#let's do something since all the dramas are airing on the weekend and it's boring during the week

[btsgotjams27]

this is us ~ jjk | 20

✨ title: this is us | (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap, best friend’s brother ✨ playlist | ✨if you haven’t read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) ✨ a/n: I'm not crying, you are. if you must know, I've been dreading this chapter because it means we're one step closer to the end 😭 but I do have some things up my sleeve hehehehe and you'll find out what it is after the epilogue 💖 we've come so far and thank you everyone for coming alongside their journey. i wouldn't be here without your questions, lovely comments and reviews. i owe so much to all my readers. one last thing, thank you to @erica2283 for helping with this chapter. we all owe her a big hug. ✨ a/n 2: remember, we have our little TIU celebration as well! i hope you'll all be around for it. and as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts, keyboard smashes, anything 💖 hehe we've made it!!

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ epilogue ~ us

chapter 20 ~ ending credits | wc: 9.2k warnings: language, drinking, someone is preggo (can you guess who?), oc is a supportive girlfriend, jk is such a romantic and oc gets easily embarrassed, references to 10 things i hate about you and inception (ofc), grumpy grandpa yoongi, also yoongi is just the sweetest friend, jk and yoongi finally meet, do i hear some kind of bells???, jk and oc are so in love it’s satisfying to see after all this time (we’ve come so far!), and also lots of fluff cause hello there is a 💍💒⚭🎉, be prepared for all the cheesy, romantic shi--💖, they're overly gross with their use of pet names smut warnings: slight exhibitionism?, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, spitting, cum swallowing

~ 2 months since moving in together ~

Light sounds of piano and saxophone filled the air as you had been laying on this bed for an hour, moaning and groaning, and not because of Jeon Jungkook.

Your masseuse was hitting all the right spots, getting every knot and kink in your wound-up body, and for that, you'd blame your boyfie.

Hyunie and Yuna wanted a girl's day without husbands, boyfriends, kids, or distractions. And who would say no to that?

"I don't know why we don't treat ourselves out more often," you said, turning to Yuna as she sipped her wine.

"It's been too long since we've all had a self-care day," Hyunie commented. You and Yuna agreed. "Oh my gosh! Your nails are perfect!" She pointed out your neutral beige nails topped off with lavender French tips and tiny jewels perfectly placed on each nail.

You wavered your fingers, letting your new manicure sparkle and glisten in the sunlight. Pastels and neutrals were your go-to. You were too much of a chicken to step out of your comfort zone.

“I think we need to do this once a month,” Yuna said, staring at her nails, which reminded you of Tiffany’s robin-egg blue.

“You both deserve it, mamas.”

Hyunie giggled, placing a hand on her growing belly. She was still in the early stages of pregnancy. At the start of this self-care day, she texted a sonogram photo to you as you were undressing for your massage. You screamed and started crying, practically scaring your masseuse.

“What are you and Jungkook up to this weekend?” Yuna asked before swirling the pasta with her fork.

“He wants to go to this gaming convention or something. It’s being held at this big arena.” You didn’t know anything about video games. You searched the internet to see what they even did at gaming conventions.

“Boring!” Hyunie cried out.

You rubbed your temple. “He wants to go, so I’ll go to support him.”

“You’re gonna be such a good wife—” Hyunie remarked before Yuna kicked her under the table. “Ow,” she muttered. “I mean, you’re such a good sport! Supporting your man like that.”

You blinked at your friends, wondering what was up with them today. You gave them the bombastic side-eye as they were pretty giggly and tightlipped.

Hyunie laughed off her comment, trying to play it cool. “Don’t mind me and my pregnancy brain. Also, remind me to kick my husband’s butt for knocking me up! I mean, there are some nice benefits.” She looks down at her chest. “But everything hurts already.”

“Welcome to the pregnant life, my friend,” Yuna jokes.

You chuckled. “I can’t believe Kim Taehyung is gonna be a dad.”

“Right? No, but I think he will be a good dad.” Hyunie hummed softly, rubbing her belly.

“He’ll be great, and I’m sure he can always ask Namjoon questions,” you said.

“Namjoon still doesn’t know what he’s doing half the time–actually, both of us,” Yuna laughed. “But that’s just parenting 101. There’s no guidebook or anything; you just google everything and hope your kid doesn’t turn out to be a turd.”

“Yuna—” You rolled your eyes.

“What? I’m not saying Indie will be, but I just want my kid to be a good human.”

“Well, you’re doing a great job raising your little human,” you say to Yuna, then turn to Hyunie. “You and Taehyung are going to do great, too. You have us if you need anything.”

You gripped Jungkook’s hand as he led you through the sea of people. The commotion of excited fans buzzed in the arena. Booth after booth of fan-made merch, the newest games, and sponsored goods were lined up like a maze. Your eyes wandered, scanning to see if anything interesting caught your eye.

Jungkook was in deep conversation with an old colleague from Netmarble, who was working on a new game set to be released. Your lips turned into a pout, and you turned around to see what could keep you busy as you let Jungkook do his thing.

“So, you’re telling me that this virtual reality game is like Inception? The movie?” You narrowed your eyes at the young man trying to sell you on this new game. Anything could be turned into a game, you supposed.

“The possibilities are endless,” he shrugged, continuing to go in-depth with this game.

You had been in conversation with this young man for twenty minutes and turned to find your boyfriend had disappeared. You sighed, “Great.” How were you supposed to find him now?

Checking your phone, which only had 5% left, you knew you should’ve grabbed the portable charger. Maybe you could somehow find Jungkook in this sea of fanboys.

A sudden screeching, humming noise made everyone grimace, covering their ears. The sound of someone thumping a microphone, followed by an ‘ah, ah, ah,’ went through the speakers.

“Everyone, we have an extraordinary presentation today. Would you please turn your attention to the screen?”

The lights dimmed, the crowd quieted, and everyone’s eyes were focused on the illuminated screen.

“You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you.”

You froze, your heart thumping, and your stomach fluttered at the angelic voice. Hearing the song made you weak in the knees, wanting to crumble down to the ground. This scene from 10 Things I Hate About You was your second favorite to Kat’s monologue.

Jungkook is shown on the screen. He has a mic in hand and a grin plastered on his face. He’s putting everything into this little performance like it’s one of his late-night karaoke sessions, except this time, he was performing in front of thousands of people and a live broadcast instead of just you and Bamie.

“You’d be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much.”

The screen splits in half, and now your face is also shown in front of thousands of people; then you notice the space around you, along with the camera pointed directly at you.

You didn’t think Jeon Jungkook was one for grand gestures, but maybe you were wrong. Suppressing your smile, you closed your eyes and hid your face in your hands.

He continued singing, making his way over to you. The grin he’s sporting never leaves as he finally stands before you.

All eyes are on you and him.

You leaned forward and whispered, “What are you doing?”

Jungkook sets the mic beside you, and the music dies down. He wiggled his eyebrows, pulling out a blue velvet box.

He got down on one knee, staring up at you. “It is an honor and a privilege to love you, and I want to love you every day till I die. I can't promise there won't be difficult moments, but I wouldn't want to go through life with anybody except you.”

You sucked in your lips and licked them to keep your excitement at bay.

“If you allow me to, I want to choose you every second, every minute, and every hour. I’ll show you what devotion is and how it’s deeper than the ocean.”

Your eyes twinkled as you lovingly stared at your romantic boyfriend. “Yes–” you interrupted him, furiously nodding your head.

He knitted his eyebrows and pouted. “You didn’t let me finish.”

“Don’t need you to–”

He opened his mouth and closed it again. “Just–let me ask you,” he whined.

You huffed, giving him a deadpan expression. You figured he would only get to do this once in a lifetime. Maybe you shouldn’t take away his thunder.

Jungkook took the oval Alexandrite ring from its box. He rose to his feet. “Will you marry me?”

At this moment, you needed someone to pinch you and wake you up from this dream. Could this be a virtual reality like the Inception game from earlier? Would your totem fall over or keep spinning?

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” You cupped his face, eagerly kissing him, forgetting about the thousands of people watching you.

His bunny smile and dimple are on display for the world to see, and his starry eyes shined brighter than the gem on your finger. It’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him.

Cheers and screams echoed throughout the arena as you kissed him again. Your lips entwined, his hands threaded through your hair, pulling you as close as he could. The smell of his cherry chapstick filled your nostrils, becoming intoxicating.

Jungkook pulled away, peppering kisses on your face as you let out soft chuckles. “I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

The first person you texted was none other than Min Yoongi. Since Hyunie and Yuna were in on the whole ‘pamper/self-care day,’ they already knew what was happening. Hence the secrecy throughout the day.

You 10:27 PM [ image attached of engagement ring ]

Grumpy Grandpa 10:30 PM 👍

You 10:31 PM That’s it? All I get is a thumbs up.

He knew how much you despised the thumbs-up emoji, but he told you it was the highest compliment anyone could ever get from him.

Grumpy Grandpa 10:35 PM 🎉

You 10:36 PM 😑

Grumpy Grandpa 10:40 PM Okay fine. 👍👍👍👍👍👍 Happy?

You 10:41 PM 😐 I guess

You 10:45 PM Anyway, will you come to our engagement party?

Grumpy Grandpa 10:50 PM You’re already getting married. Why spend more money on an engagement party?

You huffed and clenched your jaw as you sat in bed, staring at his message.

You 10:52 PM Because we’re in love and need to celebrate it a million times over and over until everyone is sick of us. 🥰💖🥰💖🥰💖

Grumpy Grandpa 10:54 PM I think I'd rather die a slow death…

You didn’t bother to text anything back. Instead, you tucked your phone underneath your pillow as Jungkook crawled into bed. You inched toward him, your back against his chest. He draped his arm around you, kissing your head.

“Hi, soon-to-be-wifey,” he chuckled, pressing himself into you.

“Hi, soon-to-be-hubby.” You wiggled back toward him.

“Who were you texting?”

“I was texting Yoongi to see if he’d come to our engagement party.”

“What’d he say?”

“That he’d rather die a slow death.”

Jungkook laughed, kissing your shoulder. “Oof–I like him.”

You turned around to face Jungkook. “You’d be okay, right? If Yoongi came to our party?”

His lips thinned, and his brows drew together. “Yeah, of course. He’s your friend. If you want him there, then I want him there.”

You hummed. “I love you.”

“Love you more.”

If there was one person you wanted Jungkook to meet, it was Yoongi. Honestly, you’d miss the banter and bickering relationship between you. But maybe Yoongi would be willing to accept Jungkook and possibly become friends. One could hope, right?

You 9:01 AM I don’t know if you planned to come, but we had to cancel the engagement party.

Grumpy Grandpa 9:15 AM Damn, he doesn’t wanna marry you already? I get it, though. I wouldn’t wanna marry you either.

You 9:16 AM 👊👊 Min Yoongi, I’m gonna pummel you!

You 9:17 AM If you must know, the place we wanted was overbooked, so we’re gonna cancel and save money for the wedding.

You don’t hear from Yoongi for another hour or so. He must be busy with an upcoming film or something.

Grumpy Grandpa 10:02 AM Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you.

You 10:36 AM 🤨

Grumpy Grandpa 10:55 AM My friend has a place you can use for your engagement party if you want.

You 10:56 AM You don't have to do that.

Grumpy Grandpa 10:57 AM The offer is expiring in 3…..2….

You 10:57 AM Ok! Ok! Where's the place?

Strolling through the home, you wonder what you did in your past life to have a friend like Min Yoongi. You crept through every corner of the house but couldn’t find him.

There was one last place you hadn’t checked: the terrace. Making your way through the kitchen, you saw him standing outside. The view was incredible, overlooking the ocean. This place was a few ways away but worth the drive.

The corners of your lips curved into a smile as you closed the sliding door behind you. You observed the grumpy grandpa in a fuzzy yellow cardigan looking at the scenery before you.

“Hey.” You stood, nudging his arm.

He turned and hummed, acknowledging your presence.

“Thanks for letting us use this place. It’s amazing. Better than anything I imagined.”

“It’s my friend’s place,” he quickly corrected you, sipping his iced coffee.

You leaned against the glass, looking at him, nudging him again. “Can you just accept my gratitude?” you pouted, sporting your best puppy eyes.

“Fine. You’re welcome.”

You giggled because you got your way. “Come on, I want you to meet Jungkook.”

He grunted, not moving an inch.

Tugging on his yellow sweater a few times made him give in. “Let’s go, grumpy.”

Jungkook and Taehyung were busy bringing decor and food in, and Yoongi had somehow disappeared from the terrace to the kitchen. You blame being the bride-to-be because everyone needs your input on where to place everything.

“You okay?” Jungkook asked, scanning your face.

You hummed, nodding your head, and broke out into a warm smile. “I’m good. Better than good, great actually.”

He raised his eyebrow, sporting a thin smile. “Okay,” his tone is hesitant, but he trusts you. “I’m gonna help Taehyung finish bringing everything in; then we can start the party, hmm?” He kissed your cheek before running off.

An arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you in for a hug. You turned to see a friend from your most recent TV show.

“Hi, Minji.”

She squealed, pulling you into a tighter embrace. “I can’t believe you’re getting married!”

You beamed a grin from ear to ear, enjoying the buzzing excitement. You watched as Yoongi appeared from one of the bedrooms, strolling toward the terrace again. You’d have to grab him to introduce him and Jungkook when you could.

“Let me see the ring,” Minji said, holding her hand for yours. “Oh my god. This is such a pretty gemstone. Does it change colors?” The ring sparkled and gleamed with every twist and turn. 

“Sometimes it can be a deep green to blue, sometimes even purple or a deep red depending on the lighting and angle,” you explained. It was one of the reasons why you preferred this stone over a diamond.

When you were looking through rings, you told Jungkook that if your wedding/engagement ring didn’t look like he went through a crazy journey and a cursed lake to get it, then you didn’t want it. It is a bit dramatic, but you wanted your ring to be special and unique.

“It’s so pretty and, honestly, so perfect for you.” She hugged you again. “When’s the wedding?”

“Soon—in a month or so.”

Minji’s eyes widened.

“Yeah—don’t ask me how wedding planning is going,” you let out a light-hearted laugh.

You and Jungkook didn’t see the point in waiting. You loved each other and couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your lives together. Plus, neither of you wanted a big wedding. You just wanted to celebrate with family and friends.

Throughout the night’s festivities, Yoongi opted for something stronger, a classic glass of whiskey, to be exact. He sipped on the drink with a hand in his pocket, watching the sky become painted with hues of coral and lavender. This was one of his favorite spots in this house.

“Hey, man.”

Yoongi turned to see the groom-to-be. He nodded, sporting a thin smile, before taking another sip of his whiskey.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, holding his hand.

Yoongi suppressed a smile. He thought it was funny how you’d spoken about him to your soon-to-be husband. “So, you’re the famous Jungkook, hm?” Yoongi switched the glass to his other hand to shake Jungkook’s.

He shies away from Yoongi’s comment. “Ah, I hope she didn’t bore you too much talking about me.”

Yoongi softly chuckled and wanted to respond but held his tongue. He’d be a good friend and keep your pain a secret.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “But I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Letting us use this place. It means a lot to the both of us,” Jungkook paused, stuffing his hands in his pants pocket as he looked off into the horizon. “And thank you for being there for her in a way I couldn’t.”

He knew how important Yoongi had become in your journey when you and him weren’t together. And if Yoongi weren’t there to support you, maybe you and him wouldn’t be together right now. He wished there was a better way to show his gratitude.

“I didn't really do anything. I just listened to her ramble, watched her cry, eat, and drink a lot.”

Jungkook softly chuckled. “You did more for her than you think. Thanks again.” He held his hand out for Yoongi to shake once more. Yoongi stared for a moment before reciprocating.

Yoongi couldn't hate the guy you were about to marry despite the pain Jungkook had caused you. He was nice, handsome, and had a stupid death grip. Could probably beat him up. He even surprised Yoongi by taking the initiative to introduce himself first. Well, if that wasn’t the mark of a man who truly loved you.

He watched Jungkook walk over to you, hugging you from behind and kissing your shoulder. You wrapped your arm up to his neck, turning to kiss his cheek. You were happy, and that’s all Yoongi wanted for you.

The guests begin to dwindle, and you have some room to breathe. And you make it a point to talk to Yoongi before you leave. You felt like you hardly saw him the entire night. He was doing his own thing. Was he always like this in a social setting? You guessed you hadn’t seen him much outside of hanging out with Hyunie and Taehyung.

“Are you ready to go?”Jungkook asked.

“You go ahead. I’m just going to find Yoongi and thank him again. Is that okay?”

He nods. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be in the car.” He kisses you before leaving.

You wandered throughout the house, peering through each room. Yoongi was sitting in a darkened room, sipping on what you assumed was another glass of whiskey.

Standing in the threshold, you knock on the frame, getting his attention. “Hey, stranger. You’re not much of a party-goer, are you?” You chuckled, taking a few steps forward.

Both hands are holding his glass while he’s leaning forward in his chair. “Are you guys heading out?”

“Yeah, just packing everything up.”

He hummed. “Have a good night.”

You don’t move from your spot. Your hands are entwined, thumbs twiddling with one another.

Yoongi knits his eyebrows. “Everything okay?”

You flash a small smile. “Thanks for letting us use your place tonight.” Yoongi perked up. “You know how I knew?” You pointed at the cat figurines on the bookshelves and the desk. “You had the same ones in Phuket.”

He made a disgruntled noise, scanning the room at his little porcelain collectibles.

You chuckled. “You don’t have to lie to me, Yoongi, saying it was someone else’s place, but thank you again. You’re a good friend.”

Yoongi has always been the supportive one. He was there for you when you were at your lowest of lows, and you’d be forever grateful. And even if he would never outright announce to the world all the things he’s done, he cared for you in such a delicate, subtle way that was completely different from everyone else.

“You ready to go home?” Jungkook brought your palm up to his lips, pressing a kiss against it.

You hummed and smiled. “Home. I like the sound of that.”

~ one month later ~ ~ a week before the wedding ~

Bam sat at your feet while you were finalizing the seating chart. Jungkook passed out on the couch, lightly snoring away. He had been staying late because of all the late-night karaoke and cooking sessions.

You 11:56 AM Hey, I’m going through RSVPs, and I haven’t gotten yours. Can you let me know if you’re coming to the wedding?

You don’t hear a response from Yoongi for the rest of the day until a phone call comes in after dinner.

Grumpy Grandpa Incoming Call

“Hey.”

Hey, sorry, I just saw your text. My new film is shooting the next day after your wedding, so I might have to leave early depending on what flight I can book. But yeah, count me in.

“Okay, awesome. Are you bringing a plus one?”

He scoffed. “Yeah, no.”

“Okay, I’ll sit next to Taehyung and Hyunie so you won’t feel lonely or awkward.”

“‘Kay, sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

Jungkook walked in with Bam after their nightly stroll around the neighborhood as you checked off that Yoongi was coming on your planning app.

Bam wandered over to the pen, drinking water from his bowl, and Jungkook greeted you with a kiss.

“Whatcha doing?” He plopped right beside you, laying his head on your lap.

You card your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. “I was just talking to Yoongi. He was confirming that he’s coming to the wedding.”

“He’s a cool guy. I like him.”

Flashing a small smile, you continued running your fingers through his hair. “Yeah, he is.”

“He didn’t say much when we were at his place, but he just seems like the type of guy who quietly cares for his friends.”

You chuckled because that encompassed everything Min Yoongi was as a friend.

“He seems very open-minded and knowledgeable, probably about the most random things.”

“Have you been studying him or something?” you asked, continuing to play with his hair.

“No, I just—want him to like me.”

You chuckled at his comment. “You’re cute.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, pinching your arm. He sat up, shoulder to shoulder with you, nudging you.

“Yes?”

“I know we said we wouldn’t get any gifts for each other, but I couldn’t resist.”

You turn to him, narrowing your eyes. “Kook—”

“I know!” He lowers his head. “So, do you want it now or later?”

You closed your eyes, holding out your hands.

“Okay, okay! Hold on!”

Jungkook sprinted toward the bedroom, holding a box when he returned. Bam was passed out on his blanket, not caring what his parents were up to. 

He placed the box in your hands. “Open your eyes.”

You peek with one eye, and it’s a beautifully wrapped gift. It reminded you of the one that Hyunie wrapped your boudoir album in. Jungkook watches as you shake it from side to side.

“I’ll just—leave you alone.”

You purse your lips, raising an eyebrow at your soon-to-be-husband. He kisses you before leaving you alone with the gift.

You undo the twine and carefully remove the kraft paper. Lifting the top cover, there’s a photo album identical to the boudoir one you have.

Did Jeon Jungkook take risque photos for you?

Carefully, you take the album out, moving the box beside you. Your fingers ghost over the front cover before having the courage to open it.

The noise you made awoken Bam, but he ignored you and went back to sleep. You raced to the bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

“What is this?” you questioned, blinking at Jungkook. You held the album open to him, dressed in a tight white tee and leather pants. He looked like a 90s heartthrob, and you were scared to look through the rest, but you may have seen him shirtless in a blazer and jeans.

“You don’t like your present?”

You shook your head. “No, I didn’t say that.”

Jungkook giggled. He propped his arms on the bed, legs spread, a cocky smirk on display.

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

He showed off his pearly whites and wiggled his eyebrows. “Is it working?”

You wandered over between his legs and nodded. “Yes.”

You wondered how it was your wedding, and you were still running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Hyunie and Yuna helped when they could, and you even recruited Minji to be your day-of coordinator so that you wouldn’t have to make all these decisions on your wedding day.

But after a hectic day, you were glad to finally rest and lay your head on the comfy pillow and fluffy duvet. The bed you laid in bore too many memories of you and Jungkook—the two of you getting high, being horny as fuck, and him getting it in the wrong hole. This cabin held many fun memories, and you were excited to add more.

You tugged on the string lamp, turning off the light. Digging deeper into the bed and pillow, you breathed a sigh of relief, ready to go to dreamland.

Just as you were drifting off, a buzzing from your phone awakened you, and when you lifted it to see who it could be—it was none other than your soon-to-be-husband.

You answered the video call but didn’t care to turn on the lights because he broke the rules you had placed for the wedding.

“Kook, what are you doing? You’re not supposed to be calling.”

He’s not wearing a shirt through the screen as the fluffy, white duvet covers him. “Says who?” His elbow props up his head while he’s staring at you.

“Says tradition.”

“Who cares about tradition—Come on, baby,” he pouts, causing a frown and puppy eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. It’s just for one night.”

“Let me talk to my girlfriend before she becomes my wife,” he pouted.

You chuckled. “It’s just a title.”

Jungkook’s offended and scoffs. “Oh, it’s so much more than just a title.”

“You’re going to call me your wife instead of your girlfriend. No big deal.”

“It’s a big deal, alright! I’m honored to be your husband.”

You rolled over on your stomach, propping the phone against the pillow. “Okay, hubby,” you cleared your throat. “Everyone—this is my husband.” You giggled. “You’re right. It has a nice ring to it.”

“See! What did I tell you?”

The both of you quiet down.

“We’ve come a long way, hmm?”

“Yeah, and you’re worth every single step.”

Rolling onto your back, you pick up the phone, then dramatically fan yourself. “Kook, save some words for your vows tomorrow.”

“I have a never-ending list of things I could say.”

“Are you just a boy filled with pure fluff and love?”

He shies away, covering his face with the duvet. “Why, yes, I am.”

You chuckled, furrowing your head further into your pillow. “It’s late, and we have an early day tomorrow. We’re getting married, remember?”

“How could I forget? I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, hubby.”

“Night, wifey.”

The hustle of decorating the cabin was finished the night before, and with Minji, Jimin, and his girlfriend’s help, everything was coming together. The only thing you had on your agenda today was getting married to the love of your life.

Your hair and makeup were in full swing as your makeup artist put the finishing touches on lipstick. You didn’t want anything too glam. Simple and minimal was your mantra for this joyous occasion.

Soft clicks from a camera could be heard from behind as Yuna helped tie your silk top. You and Jungkook opted to capture the wedding on film and digital. It would give it a nice touch of vintage vibes.

Hyunie whistled as she got a close-up of Yuna tying your top. “Wait until Jungkook sees you in this!”

“Stop–it’s just a dress.”

Hyunie shook her head no. “It’s not just any dress. It’s your wedding dress. Trust me. It hits differently.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “And it’s a two-piece, so whenever you wear these pieces separately, you’ll always have some wedding feels.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your silk skirt with the thigh-high slit. You wanted to be practical with your wedding dress. You didn’t want it wasting away in the back of the closet, never to be worn again, so you opted for classic pieces that you can wear again.

Yuna sets the veil’s comb into your hair, letting the tulle drape down. She stood beside you, tilting her head with a smile beaming from ear to ear. She took your hand, making you look at her. “Hey, sis.”

“God—Yuna. Don’t make me cry right now! We just finished my makeup.” The back of your neck began to warm up, and you could feel the tears forming behind your eyes. You fanned yourself, hoping it would stop them from falling.

“I can’t believe this day is finally here.” She dabbed the corner of her eyes, gently wiping away her mascara. “Okay—I need to go check on Indie. Make sure she’s all set. I’ll see you two later.” Yuna tightly embraced you before leaving.

Hyunie takes your hand. “Are you ready, my beautiful bride?”

You faced outward to the breathtaking landscape. The sun is shining, warming up your exposed skin. Closing your eyes, you inhale a deep breath, not taking this moment for granted. You want to savor it, keep it locked up to revisit.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook had been watching you from afar, enjoying this moment. Like you, he wishes he could put the world on pause so it could just be the two of you—a point in time where nothing else mattered but you and him.

Jungkook takes his time and chuckles when he sees you tired of standing, waiting for him.

He approaches, wrapping his arms around your waist, removing your veil to kiss your shoulder. He whispers a ‘hi,’ rocking you from side to side.

You leaned back, pressing into him. “Hi,” you repeat as Jungkook kisses your temple.

His kiss sends chills throughout your body. You close your eyes again, and your relationship with Jungkook flashes before you. An overwhelming sensation overtakes every fiber of your being. Your home wasn’t just four walls and a fridge. Instead, it was four limbs and lips to kiss. Jungkook was your home.

“Can we just stay like this for a little while?” He squeezed you tighter. “Before all the chaos?”

You giggled and hummed, turning around to kiss him. “I love you so much.”

It felt like an eternity to finally be standing before him, but the two of you made it–nothing was standing in your way, save for Namjoon, who was performing the ceremony.

Everyone had their turn down the aisle: Yuna walking with Jimin and Taehyung, and even Bam and Indie made the crowd laugh as the flower girl and ring bearer. Bam kept trying to eat the petals as Indie threw them. Yuna had to entice Indie with chocolates as she stood at the end of the aisle.

You were patiently waiting inside, your arm linked with Jin.

“This is your last chance to run,” he teases as you nudge your hip into his.

“I didn’t go through hell and back not to marry Jeon Jungkook.”

Jin chuckles. “Well, come on. Your groom is waiting.”

The acoustic guitar starts playing, ‘Everything’ by Kina Grannis through the speakers. Everyone turns toward you, watching as you descend the aisle with Jin. Camera clicks are heard in front of you as Hyunie snaps away.

You’re donning a silk two-piece, an open-back top with a tie, and a skirt with a thigh-high split. You opted for a dried flower bouquet of lavender and baby’s breath, and Jungkook had a matching boutonniere.

Your eyes focus on none other than Jungkook. He looks dashing in his classic suit. His soft curls frame his pretty face, and his hands are folded as he patiently waits for you. The corner of his mouth curved up into a grin. He shyly looks to the ground before flicking back up, dimple and bunny smile on display.

When you reach the end, Jin hugs you and whispers, ‘Go get ‘em, tiger.’ You chuckle and turn to Yuna, handing her your bouquet. Jungkook takes your hands, and you stand facing each other in front of Namjoon.

It’s like you have tunnel vision; no one else matters but you and him. You can see Jungkook’s eyes glistening as Namjoon continues his wedding script. Jungkook squeezed your hand a few times before you realized Namjoon was talking to you.

All eyes were on the two of you, ready to exchange vows.

You turn to Yuna to retrieve the vows you had prepared. “I was not expecting you. I was not even looking, but somehow, you came to me as if you knew what I needed. I used to believe that finding someone who would love me would be difficult. I know I’m not the easiest person to love. I’m an over-thinker and don’t convey my wants and needs well, but I’ve found someone who thinks they can take on the challenge.”

There’s light laughter among the guests. Jungkook grins, looking at the ground before flicking back to you.

“There may be times when I’m insecure and spiral into the abyss, but if you’re by my side, I know you’ll always be in my corner, fighting with me and helping me every step of the way.” 

You paused and flashed a soft smile, trying to hide your tears. “Jeon Jungkook, you are my dream come true, my world, the joy in my heart. Thank you for loving and accepting me for who I am, my flaws and all.”

You stopped again to dab the tears falling from the corner of your eyes. “And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life falling in love with you over and over again.”

A stillness remains after you finish your vows. Your eyes quickly glance at the crowd. There are smiles and tears of joy among them.

Namjoon takes the microphone from you, handing it over to Jungkook. He sniffles before clearing his throat and grabbing a piece of paper from his jacket pocket.

He unfolds it in his hands, and you can’t help but notice a slight tremble. “It’s easy for me to love you, which scares me. I’ve never wanted anything so much as I want to hold you every waking minute and every night while I sleep. The question I used to ask myself was ‘How do I love you?’ and now it has become ‘How do I ever stop?’”

“I’ll choose you again and again from start to finish. I’ll choose you when my heart is full, and I’ll choose you even when the days are hard. Maybe I’ve already loved you in a million different ways and through different timelines, but I’m so glad that we’re here now, and I get to love you in this lifetime.”

“There are no more what ifs, what could have been. It’s just you and me saying yes to each other forever. We deserve our happy ending.”

Jungkook looks up to see you holding a tissue, patting your cheeks from the tears. He sees past you and Yuna, also in tears. He lightly chuckles to himself.

The two of you have gone through enough, and Jungkook was right. You didn’t have to live with the what-ifs and the what could have been. This timeline brought you back to him. You could think of many things that could’ve happened—you not taking that meeting in LA, being unable to pick yourself back up, you and Jungkook not breaking up and trying to make it work. But ultimately, you knew you needed to grow, mature, and figure things out before you could be standing here today saying, ‘I do.’

Namjoon proceeds through the rest of his ceremony script by exchanging the rings and, finally, the last thing on the agenda.

“Jungkook, you may kiss the bride,” Namjoon announces.

Jungkook takes a few steps forward, cupping your face and staring into your eyes. “Finally.” He leans forward, closing his eyes. His lips find yours like a magnet.

Cheers from family and friends are boisterous, along with the music that cues up as the two of you are ready to walk down the aisle.

You stand with Jungkook hand in hand. He looks over to you and kisses you again. He lifts your arm, shaking it, yelling a ‘yes’ as the crowd cheers again.

Minji ushered you and Jungkook to a private bedroom, telling the two of you to eat before the reception festivities. But, of course, Jungkook had other plans.

He locked the door and eagerly pressed you against the wall, making you yelp. “Five minutes, that’s all I need.”

“You’re pretty confident, hmm?”

"I can't let this moment go to waste."

"Kook," you whine into his mouth. "Someone's gonna come looking for us."

"Good. I'll tell them we're coming," he grins before kissing you again.

Your hands are flushed against his chest as he trails kisses along your jawline and neck. His hand on the small of your back, pressing you into his growing bulge.

Your fingers tug on his jacket lapels. You're tempted to take off his blazer, but you're in the middle of your wedding celebration. You couldn't get carried away.

He kisses back up your neck, finding your lips again. Shifting your skirt to the side, his hand finds warmth between your legs. He palms against your clit, rubbing circles. He catches your moans with his kisses.

"We can't be so loud, baby."

You unbuckle his belt and pop the button on his dress pants, undoing his zipper. You cup your hand around his hard, clothed erection, stroking him. He gently grabs your hand, making you withdraw from him.

"You first."

He moves your panties to the side, his finger sliding between your folds, spreading your arousal.

"Are you ready for me?"

You loll your head back, jaw slack, making some kind of noise in agreement. He inserts a finger, his palm pressed on your clit again. He starts pumping in and out before adding a second finger. Your walls clench around him when he speeds up.

He squeezes your breast, then pinches your nipple. You're already crumbling, and it's been mere minutes, but your desire for him started long before this.

Jungkook drops to his knees. He gathers your skirt for you to hold. He pulls down your panties, making you step out of them. He flings it off to the side before relishing in you again. He attaches his mouth to your clit, licking and sucking, tugging your legs closer to him. He hurries down further, trying to get to your entrance.

Your hands thread through his hair as he reinserts his fingers. He looks up at you, eyebrows knitted, a stray hair falling as you bite down on your lip, holding in whimpers. Saliva is running down his chin as he continues lapping, trying his best to consume all of you. He pulls away, kissing your clit, nudging his nose into it. At the same time, he's curling his fingers, hitting the sweet spot. He lifts your leg onto his shoulder so he can get better access. He kisses your thigh before attaching his lips to clit again.

You're aching for a sweet release. Your heart is racing, and the fear of someone coming to look for you heightens, and you start rolling your hips, desperate to reach your climax.

"Mm, right here, Kook. Just like that."

His eyes meet yours, and he smiles, knowing he could make you cum quickly. He continues lapping and flicking, finger fucking you. The sensation is too much to handle, and you need to stabilize yourself. He sets your leg down, and his hand grabs the flesh of your ass.

Your skin heats up, hands curl tighter into his hair, the building pleasure causes your legs to shake, and your thighs are closing in on Jungkook. You're biting down on your lip, holding back the moan, desperately trying to escape. You're losing all composure when the tension finally snaps, and you reach your release.

He doesn't let go when you cum. He continues to overstimulate you until you have to push him away. You lean down to kiss him, your slick lingers all over him, and you have to clean him up before he goes back out.

"Fuck–you're so sexy," he says between kisses.

"Your turn."

Jungkook hums. "I'm not gonna last long."

"Then it'll be just like our first time again," you tease, remembering when you sucked him off on your couch.

"Baby–do you have to bring that up right now?"

You giggled and let go of your skirt, reaching to put your panties back on. You nodded, smirking at him. "You can never last long when you’re excited."

"Baby," he whines, letting out a huff.

You kiss him. "I love making you feel that way."

You play with the elastic on his underwear, tugging them down. Jungkook watches as you grin and grip his cock. It involuntarily twitches in your grasp. You have no time to waste. People are waiting for you both.

Kneeling before him, you wrap your hand around his shaft, pumping and twisting his length. Your thumb rubs the pre-cum dripping from him, and then he lets out a sharp hiss when you flick your tongue at his tip. Spitting on his cock, you spread your saliva up and down his shaft with both hands, stroking him.

You peer up at him, and his eyes never leave yours. He’s captivated by this pretty view. You take him in your mouth, swirling your tongue, moaning against him. Laying your tongue flat, it runs along the underside of his cock, following the prominent vein. Your lips are slick and swollen, trying to take more of him in.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Jungkook bites his lip, gently thrusting forward.

Your lips part around his cock, only taking in the head. Your hand wraps the rest of his shaft, stroking him, and your free hand gently plays with his balls.

A breath is hitched in Jungkook’s throat, his eyes half-lidded, almost rolling back when you take him in inch by inch until your nose is pushed into him. 

There’s a knock on the door, and someone tries to open it. “Hey, are you guys almost finished eating?” Minji asked through the door.

The two of you look toward the door. You’re busy gagging on Jungkook’s dick, and he answers, “We’ll be right there.”

You return to sucking and stroking, more frantic than before.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses a few more times, bucking into you. He cups your face, making you look at him. “Where do you want me to come?”

You quickly pop off, “Mouth.”

He visibly gulps, his cheeks burning at the thought of you swallowing his cum during your wedding. The muscles in his abdomen tighten, the building pleasure ready to explode. Lightning ripples through him, sending shockwaves throughout his body as he finally cums in your mouth. Jungkook groans when you continue to milk him for all he’s worth. The sweat forming on his head trickles down his face.

You wipe off the trailing saliva and swallow his cum. As you fix your skirt and top, Jungkook stuffs himself back in his underwear and pants. The two of you look at each other, smiling like idiots.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said, inching closer to kiss him.

Jungkook smirked, wrapping his arms around you. “I can.”

You cleared your throat. “We should scarf down our food and return to our wedding, hmm?”

Wedding festivities were in full swing—smiles, laughter, and chattering filled the outdoor patio. Delicious food in your bellies and mixed drinks coursing through your veins.

Jin walked to the area where the band was playing, his fingers tinkering on the glass to get everyone’s attention.

“Why, hello, beautiful people—and by beautiful people, I mean me.”

You and Jungkook make a face at each other.

“I’m kidding! Everyone here is dressed to impress, and ladies, if any of you is single, come find me afterward.” He looks at Jungkook, and he’s glaring back at his friend.

Jin clears his throat, “Anyway, I’ve seen the highs and lows of your relationship, and I’m honored to be standing here, witnessing how love can withstand so much as long as two people continue to fight for and fiercely love one another. I promise I’ll always be there to support the two of you as best as possible. And remember me when you need a god-parent for your kids.”

You and Jungkook look at each other, shaking your head.

Jin holds up his glass, proposing a toast. “To the bride and groom, may you continue to show us what true love is.”

Everyone raises their glasses, saying “Cheers,” clinking their glasses with one another at their tables.

Yuna stands, walks to Jin, and retrieves the microphone from him. “Hello, everyone. I’m Yuna, the bride's best friend and the groom's big sister. I’m sure some of you are wondering if I was okay with their relationship, and at first, it came as a shock, but as their relationship progressed, I realized how pure their love was for each other. They’ve even taught me a thing or two about love, and if you’ve seen them from the start until now, you’ll see how far they’ve come, and I can’t wait to see what their future holds. I love you both so much.”

Jungkook nudges you, handing you another tissue. Even though this relationship was hard for Yuna to accept, you’re glad she never gave up on you, on Jungkook. If she never trusted the two of you and cheered you on, it would’ve been another relationship you’d have to grieve. But you’re so glad it worked out.

Jin returns, speaking into the mic, “Now—there’s been enough crying for the night. It’s time for the first dance of the bride and groom.

Jungkook stands, holding out his hand for you. He leads you to the dance floor; you let the train of your skirt drape behind you. The piano intro of the chosen song comes on. His hand sits on the small of your back, pressing you closer to him, his other hand holding yours. You press your cheek against his, close your eyes, and breathe everything in—you and him now.

You love holding his hand. The softness of his fingers electrifies every nerve in your body. You love listening to him breathe; it’s a calm reminder for you to slow things down. You love the warmth radiating off his body and onto yours. You love looking into his starry doe eyes and feeling like everything will be okay.

Entwined, all that we are is defined By each others shipwrecked hearts and I Shiver to think what would have been if I wouldn’t have seen you in time Would we pass by?

“I love you,” Jungkook whispers, kissing your cheek.

A warm smile eases onto your face. “How long will you keep telling me that, hmm?”

He gazes into your eyes. “Forever and ever.”

You giggle. “I like the sound of that.”

Like parachutes and air balloons Or satellites and lonely moons We’d still be drifting far apart But thank the stars we are entwined

The two of you continue to sway to the song until it ends, and the next song comes on, and you just know that Kim Taehyung requested it. The full-on blaring horns and cymbal percussion filled the speakers on blast.

Yes (whoo, ow) It's so crazy right now Most incredibly, it's ya girl, B (yes) It's ya boy, Young You ready?

And the first person on the dance floor, dragging Park Jimin to the floor? None other than Kim Taehyung. 

You and Jungkook look at each other, bursting out into laughter. He had pre-gamed before the wedding even started.

“You wanna sit this one out?” Jungkook asked, raising his eyebrows, and you nodded, letting the rest of the crowd have a turn enjoying the reception.

You’re mingling through the tables and greeting friends. Jungkook has Indie in his arms; she’s giggling and squealing at the top of her lungs as she twirls around, and Bam circles and barks at the two. You love watching Jungkook with Indie, and it makes you wonder if you’ll get to have that with Jungkook one day. You’re hopeful and believing for the best.

Namjoon, Jin, Taehyung, and Jimin all take turns whisking you away from your mingling to dance with you. Throughout the night, you’ve been preoccupied with guests, and then you see the one person who hadn’t greeted you and Jungkook yet.

You walk over to Min Yoongi, who’s in a black suit and tucked in a white tee. This is the most you’ve ever seen him dressed up. He’s kept his hair long but put in some effort to style it.

Like clockwork, there’s a glass of alcohol in his hands. He’s looking elsewhere when he notices you. He’s focused on your eyes; then you see him explore your face and flash a gentle smile.

You hold out your hand. “May I have this dance?”

“I don’t dance,” he grumbles.

“Oh, you’re such a liar! I’ve seen you dance.”

“Yeah—when I’m drunk and I’m not drunk enough yet,” he whines.

“Come on. It’s my wedding day. You can’t say no to me.”

He blinks. “No.”

You roll your eyes and drag him by the hand. He leaves his glass on the table, fumbling after you.

“Just one dance, and then you’ll be a free man.”

Yoongi groans as he stands before you. Your hands are on his shoulders, and his hands are on your waist, and you’re both at a respectable distance from one another.

“See, it’s not that bad, is it?”

“It’s horrible actually. Think I’m allergic to dancing,” he teases.

“Shut up, stupid.”

“You shut up,” he spits back.

“You can’t tell me to shut up. I’m the bride.”

“Have you been using that excuse all day?” He narrows his eyes at you.

You show off a cheeky smile. “Yep!”

Yoongi shakes his head, and he beams his gummy-toothed smile.

“Did I get a smile out of Min Yoongi?” You gasp dramatically.

“Consider it your wedding gift.”

You roll your eyes again, and you smack him on the shoulder.

“Yah—” he frowns. “I was going to give you your actual wedding gift, but I’m taking it back now.”

“What?” Your eyes widen. “No, no, no! What is it?”

Yoongi steps back, reaching for something in his pocket. He pulls out a small rectangular box and hands it to you.

The music continues as you flip open the box, and in it, you see a silver titanium spinning top and a silver bishop chess piece, but just like in the movie, it’s hollowed out.

“There’s debate on Cobb’s totem being his ring, but considering you and Jungkook have wedding rings, it seems redundant.”

You chuckled to yourself at the gift. Only Yoongi would get you something like this. “What does it mean?”

Yoongi looks around, and your eyes follow him. His gaze returns to you, along with a soft smile. “This—you and Jungkook—it’s not a dream. It’s real.”

You turn away from him, your heart aching gravely, your eyes glistening from the silly but not-so-silly gift.

“Are you,” Yoongi pauses, “crying?”

You tut, still turned away, quickly wiping your tears. “No, I’m not crying.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to turn to him. “Hey, what do I always say?”

“It’s okay to cry, just don’t cry alone,” you say monotonously.

He laughs. “Well, at least you remember something I’ve told you.”

You looked at him, your eyebrows knitted. “I listen,” you retort.

The song ends, and the DJ lets guests know only a few songs are left.

“Well, I have to head out. Early roll call tomorrow—you know the drill,” Yoongi says, stuffing his hands into his pants pocket.

You nod. “Thanks for coming. You don’t know how much it meant to me.”

“I wish you and Jungkook all the best,” he flashes a thin smile, and then he pulls you in for a hug, his cheek pressed against yours.

The unexpected display of affection catches you off guard. He’s not known to express affection, but you soften, giving into his embrace.

Yoongi withdraws from the hug, locking eyes with Jungkook as he waits for the two of you to finish. Yoongi gives a small smile, as does Jungkook.

“I’ll see you when I see you?”

The corner of your eyes crinkle as you smile, bidding him farewell.

Jungkook wraps his arms around you from behind, inhaling your scent. “Ready to go home?”

You hummed, nuzzling into him. “Let’s go home, hubby.”

A deep groan escaped your lips when you rolled onto your side, but Jungkook blocked the way, and you couldn’t move further. Your body ached in every nook and cranny. Jungkook did not go easy on you last night.

You sat up with weary eyes, staring at your husband, who was sound asleep, snoring away as if you had nothing to do today, but that was far from the case.

The two of you were setting off to the Maldives later tonight. Jin had taken Bam home after the wedding to dog sit while the two of you are off on your honeymoon.

You shoved Jungkook a few times, and his only response was grunts. “Kook, we need to get up,” you whined, kicking him a few times.

“Mm? Kook is not my name,” he said in a muffled tone as he faced you.

You huffed, clenching your jaw. “Husband, hubby, the love of my life.”

His eyes are closed, and he beams from ear to ear. “Yes, wifey?” He peeked an eye open before shifting into an upright position beside you. He opened his arm up for you to cuddle right in.

You shake your head at your silly husband, kissing his chest. He’s never going to grow old of you calling him that, is he?

“I love you.”

He giggled. “Is that it?”

You hummed.

“I love you more.”

Throughout your wedding day, you couldn't help but think of your relationship with Jungkook. You never expected to fall in love with your best friend's younger brother. You were on the rebound; he had just moved back from LA. It seemed like a lifetime ago that the two of you were sneaking around, getting caught by Yuna. It's strange how life works, how everyone gathers at life events, and this time, instead of a family reunion—like the one where you saw Jungkook again—everyone gathered for a more cheerful occasion, celebrating the two of you.

Chapter One of your life was never-ending, full of life and love. It was messy and complicated, but you felt like it was finally coming to a close, and Chapter Two would be the beginning of something much more beautiful for you and Jungkook.

✨ epilogue ~ us

[canirove]

Meu Amor | Chapter 14

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Masterlist

"You can still come if you want. I'm sure I'll be able to get you a pass."

"I've already told you that I'm fine. You enjoy Monaco with Ivan, and I the weekend with my family. It's been ages since the last time I was able to do it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am."

"Ok. Brown or navy?" Rúben asks, showing me two t-shirts. He's packing while I just lay in bed and stare at him, which has become one of my favorite activities. Especially when he is topless.

"Brown."

"Brown" he repeats, putting the navy t-shirt back on his wardrobe and carefully folding the other one.

"You know, next time you come to stay with me in London, you could fold all my clothes. And maybe organize them too. Just like you did with the kitchen."

"So I do all the work while you just lay there looking sexy?" he smirks.

I've been staying in Manchester with him for the past week since all the work I had left, now that the season is over, can be done from my phone or my laptop. And while we are at home, I basically live one of his t-shirts (not the City one) and my knickers.

"Yes, that's the plan" I shrug.

"Will I be getting something in return? What will be the payment?"

"The satisfaction of seeing how good you are at your job."

"That's not the type of satisfaction I enjoy the most."

"Isn't it? I can't think of any other type of satisfaction" I say, teasing him.

"What a pity" he says, going back to folding his clothes and putting them on his suitcase.

We stay in silence for a while, and I let myself fall on the bed with a big sigh, looking at the ceiling while hating myself. What an idiot I am. My teasing has been a complete failure, and the fact that nothing has happened is making me want him a lot more than before.

He keeps moving around the room, going to the bathroom to pick some things as if nothing happened. As if I wasn't laying in his bed horny and frustrated. And I can only think of one thing that would make him go feral and give me what I want.

"Where did you put your City shirt? This one is making me feel too hot" I say, getting up.

"On that drawer over there" he says, raising an eyebrow.

I move towards it and take out the shirt. There is a mirror on top of it, and on the reflection I can see Rúben's eyes fixed on me as I get changed.

"Much better" I say, still looking at his reflection. When our eyes meet, I feel my heart skipping a bit, my knees getting weak. He is looking at me as if he could devour me right there. Just what I wanted.

"I'll let you finish with your packing" I say, turning to look at him. "I'll be downstairs getting something to eat."

"You are not going anywhere, meu amor."

"But I'm hungry."

"So am I" he says before lifting me in the air and throwing me in the bed while I just giggle like an idiot.

"This trick won’t forever work on me, you know?" he says as he starts kissing my neck, his hand under my shirt.

"Then I better use it as much as I can while it does."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Oh, there she is!" my mum says as I walk through the door. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too" I say, hugging her.

"Your father is on the living room watching the cars."

"The cars? What cars?"

"It's called Formula 1, Helen" I hear him say.

"Cars" my mum shrugs.

"Hello there."

"Hello sweetheart" he says when he sees me. He's sitting on the couch, a beer on his hand.

"Since when do you like watching Formula 1?"

"I got into it last year with all the drama with Hamilton. It can be very boring, but also very entertaining. How are you? You look good."

"She's glowing" my mum says behind me. "Looks like the new job is suiting you well."

"It is, yes. I can't complain."

"That's what I like to hear" my dad says. "Oh, look. You must know those guys" he says, pointing at the tv with his beer.

Mason Mount is on the screen, talking with a Red Bull mechanic. Next to him is Foden, and next to him... Rúben. Rúben in all his glory. Holy shit.

"That Dias boy... We should sign him. Imagine having him with Varane instead of that big head of Maguire. Don't you agree?"

"Uh?" I say, my eyes still fixed on how good Rúben looks.

"Rúben Dias. Do you think we should sign him? I think it would be a good deal, he wouldn't have to move from the city where he already lives. Daughter, are you listening to me?"

"I'm gonna go upstairs and unpack" I blurt out. If I stay for a bit longer with my dad while having Rúben on tv looking like that, I may say something I'll regret later.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

The next day my brother and his wife join us for lunch, my father convincing us all to watch the race with him later.

"It'll be a fun one, you'll see!" he says while eating.

But little did he know...

"I'm tired of waiting dad" my brother says. "It keeps raining and they are not racing. Can't we watch something else?"

"No" he says, the remote control in his power.

"Who are you texting?" my brother's wife asks.

"No one" I say, quickly locking my phone so she can't see anything.

“It didn’t look like no one. Are you seeing someone? You know you can tell me.”

“You have a boyfriend?” my brother asks.

“Who has a boyfriend?” my mother also asks, showing up out of nowhere.

“She has” my brother says, pointing at me.

“You have a boyfriend?” my father asks, joining the conversation.

“Can you all please shut up?” I yell.

“She definitely has a boyfriend. Remember when I found out about Sebastian? She had the same reaction” my brother says.

“I did not.”

“Yes, you did. You yell at us and then ran away. Which is what you were about to do, isn’t it?”

“No” I say, sitting down on the sofa. But yes, it was exactly what I was planning on doing. Running away so I don’t have to talk to them.

“Who is he? Is he from work?” my sister-in-law asks.

“Kind of” I sigh, knowing that I won’t be able to get away from their questioning.

“Is he a football player? Are you a wag? Football players kind of are part of your job” she asks.

“You are dating a football player?” my mum asks.

“Is he famous? Do I know him?” my brother asks.

“Wait, wait, wait. Is he the one who follows you on Instagram?” my sister-in-law asks again.

“What? Who?”

“I can’t remember his name, it wasn’t an English one. But I do remember he was hot. Very hot. That’s how I saw that he followed you, because a friend told me to check his profile. Then I saw that you followed him, went to check if you had posted anything new, and saw that he followed you back.”

Fuck. Shit.

“Rúben Dias?” my brother says, looking at his phone.

“How did you find that so quickly?” I ask.

“I also follow him, he is my gym motivation. How did I not notice?”

“You follow a City player? And you are dating him?” my dad asks.

“Who is this Rúben? Can I see him?” my mother asks.

Oh, God. It’s over. I can’t lie to them now. Not after all this.

“Ok, fine, yes” I say. “I’m dating Rúben Dias. And no, I’m not being ironic.” After I say those words, they all start bombarding me with questions. All but my mother.

“Mum, are you ok?” I ask her, ignoring the others.

“This is him?” she says, showing me the phone on her hands and the photo my brother had picked. It’s one from the day they won the Premier League, one where he is with the trophy and showing his biceps. Only God knows for how long I’ve stared at that photo myself.

“Yep, that’s him” I say.

“I’m gonna have the prettiest grandchildren out there! And Rosie is gonna be so jealous! Look at him! Is his arm really that big in person? My God, child.”

Is my mum thirsting over my boyfriend? I think she is, yes. And that is not something I expected to happen the day I told my family about Rúben. Not even my dad seems to be mad about the fact that he plays for City, and that was one of the things I feared the most. He actually is… smiling.

“Are you ok with me dating a City player?” I ask him once everyone has calmed down a bit and the Formula 1 race has finally started.

“It’s not ideal or what I had expected” he says. “But like your mum said yesterday, you are glowing. You are happy. Very happy. And I’m sure he has a lot to do with it. That’s what matters.”

“Thank you, dad” I say, trying not to get too emotional. He doesn’t say anything, just smiles at me. But that simple gesture is enough.

[chudleycanonficfest]

Lover

Day 8, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: Lover (or, five times Lavender felt Ron slipping away, and the one time she didn't)

Author: adenei

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Lavender Brown, but also heavy insinuations on Ron x Hermione 

Prompt: 5+1

Rating: T (for fabricated insinuations)

TW: Teen heartbreak and all the drama that comes with it.

Author's note: While I am primarily a Romione writer, I could not get this idea out of my head. So, here's a little Lav redemption. After all, she was only a girl who fell for a boy and pursued a perfectly unattached boy.

******

9 November 1996

I think he knows his hands around a cold glass 

Make me wanna know that body like it’s mine.

-I Think He Knows

The Gryffindor common room was aglow in crimson and gold, filled to capacity for the celebration of today’s victory against Slytherin. Seamus and Dean managed to smuggle in a boatload of Butterbeer for everyone, which masked the two bottles of Firewhisky Seamus was passing around their inner circle. Parvati and Lavender were lounging in the same armchair on the far side of the room.

  Lavender’s never been one to pay close attention to a Quidditch match. Sure, she was all about the parties and house spirit following a match, and if Hogwarts had a cheer squad, she’d be the first person to sign up. But sitting in the stands, watching a match for an indeterminable amount of time? She could think of at least five other things to do that didn’t involve the wind claiming victim to her hair as players whizzed by on broomsticks.

  Now that they were inside and out of the crisp November air, she could enjoy the party with her friends. Though, it’d be much more enjoyable if a certain redhead would stop flashing a grin in her direction and just come over to talk to her instead.

  “You're staring again,” Parvati chided.

  Lavender sighed in response. She couldn’t help it. He’d filled out over the summer, and Quidditch training had been kind to his physique. Red hair wasn’t a feature she ever gravitated to in the past, but freckles and those bright blue eyes were her downfall. Not to mention his infectious smile and the way he was always able to make everyone around him laugh. Ron Weasley was a good guy, and Lavender wanted to get to know him better.

  “He’s single, right?” Her fingers twirled her curly blonde hair between her fingers as she watched him take a swig of Butterbeer from the cold glass in his hands.

  “As single as the last time you asked me,” Parvati responded with an air of nonchalance in her tone.

  Lavender wasn’t surprised by her bored tone. There was only so much they could talk about when it came to Ron, considering neither knew that much about him. She contemplated Parvati’s response, weighing the options of trying to pursue something. A voice in the back of Lavender’s mind was screaming at her to ask what her other roommate’s thoughts were on the matter concerning Lavender asking Ron out, but Hermione was nowhere to be found. 

  Besides, did it really matter what she thought? Hermione has had all the time in the world to make a move on Ron if she really wanted to. She had no claim on the redheaded Gryffindor. As far as Lavender knew, he was fair game, and at the rate Ron kept glancing in her direction, she was sure it meant something.

  So, Lavender swiped the bottle of Firewhisky from the space between Parvati’s legs and the arm of the chair, where she’d been keeping it hidden, and took a large swig. She’d need the liquid courage for what she’d just decided to do.

  “What are you—” Parvati started to ask before Lavender cut her off.

  “I’m going for it.”

  Without another thought, Lavender hopped off the chair and marched over to Ron, who had just set his empty glass down on the table behind him. She still hadn’t made up her mind about whether she was going to say anything or not and let the wide lopsided grin that erupted on his face decide for her when he saw her approaching.

  “Hey, Lavender! What’d you think of the—”

  Lavender didn’t wait to hear the rest of Ron’s question as she threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips. His eager response paired with his hands finding a home on her hips egged her on as she refused to break the kiss right away. It was sloppy, and he was inexperienced, but he didn’t pull away at her advances. 

  I can teach him a thing or two and whip him into boyfriend material in no time.

  When they finally did pull apart, it was to a chorus of catcalls around the room. A coy smile passed over her lips as she asked, “should we find someplace a little more private?”

  ♚

20 December 1996

  Kiss me once, cause I know you had a long night

Kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright

Three times ‘cause you waited your whole life

~Paper Rings

  “So, what do you want to do tonight?” 

  Lavender bounced up and down on the sofa next to Ron. It was the last night before the Christmas hols, and she wanted to make the most of it since she wouldn’t get to kiss him for two weeks. But something was off. Ron seemed distracted, and he kept looking past her, which was beginning to grate on Lavender’s nerves.

  “Er, I don’t know. I’ve got a lot of packing to do still, so I’m not sure if we should really—”

  Lavender was taken aback as Ron threw himself at her, lips clashing together even though he was just in the middle of telling her he was too busy to do anything. Lavender cracked an eyelid open to see Hermione shoot them a disgusted look as she crossed the room and waited by the portrait hole. She clamped her eyes shut a moment later when she sensed Ron’s twitch.

  She wasn’t going to complain about snogging her boyfriend in the middle of the common room, but she kept her ears open.

  “Ah, Granger, looking delicious as ever.”

  Hermione was going to the party with Cormac? She must really be desperate to want to go with that sleazeball. 

  “Let’s get going,” Hermione responded in her usual clipped tone. “I’d rather not be in the vicinity of that much longer.”

  Lavender tried not to be offended by Hermione’s icy words. Ron didn’t deserve to be treated like rubbish, and neither did she. It’s not like Hermione had laid any claim on Ron. She tried to refocus her attention on the snog, but Ron pulled away as soon as the portrait hole closed.

  Huh, well, that was odd.

  “Well, I should go and get packed, then. I’ll see you in the morning?”

  What just happened? Is he really going upstairs after snogging me like that? 

  Lavender was thoroughly confused by Ron’s actions. Nothing seemed to match up tonight, and she didn’t want to leave things like this at the train station tomorrow. She needed to know what was going through his mind.

  “Won-Won, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Doesn’t seem like ‘nothing'. Why’d you start snogging me when Hermione came down the stairs?”

  “What? I can’t snog my girlfriend? It had nothing to do with Hermione.”

  Ron sounded convincing, but Lavender was still hesitant to believe it.

  “Are you sure? 

  “Yes.”

  Lavender noticed how Ron’s ears turned a bright shade of pink and wondered if he was hiding something. Even if he was, he was her boyfriend, and she decided to trust him. Switching gears, Lavender asked him the other question that was weighing on her mind.

  “Not that I care who Hermione’s going to the Slug Club party with, but why McLaggen? Everyone in Gryffindor knows to stay away from him.”

  “Dunno. Why do you say that?”

  “You don’t know? McLaggen doesn’t like to be told ‘no’.”

  “He—what?” Ron groaned and rubbed the back of his neck while his nostrils flared in annoyance. Or was it anger?

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, well, she shouldn’t be going with him in the first place.”

  “Why?” Lavender peered intently at Ron, waiting for an answer.

  His cheeks were flushed as he shook his head, eyes darting to the boy’s staircase as if he was looking for an escape.

  “Er, no reason…”

  “Won-Won,” warned Lavender.

  “I—er, I think I was supposed to go with Hermione tonight.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Lavender sensed his immediate attempt to backpedal the conversation before he even spoke. He was already standing and moving around to the backside of the sofa. Even as he attempted an explanation, Lav gathered the impression that he was trying to convince himself more so than her.

  “Well, she never officially asked me! Besides, we got into a huge row, and now I’m with you, so it doesn’t matter. Look, Lav, I’m tired, and I’ve got a lot to do. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Without another word, Ron disappeared up the boy’s staircase, which left Lavender on the sofa, reeling at his words. How had she not known that Hermione had asked him—or tried to ask him—to the party?  He wasn’t trying to get back at Hermione by using Lavender, was he?

  No, that’s ridiculous! He fancies you! You wouldn’t have spent a whole month together if he was trying to get back at your roommate. 

  Lavender pushed her discomfort over Ron’s actions to the back of her mind. She’d know if he wasn’t interested. He probably just misses his friend. It was really a shame Hermione couldn’t be happy for Ron, or Lavender for that matter. But Lav wasn’t going to do anything about it, not while she had Ron all to herself. Maybe she was being selfish, but Ron was her boyfriend, and she intended to keep it that way.

♚

5 January 1997

  Said I’m fine, but it wasn’t true

I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you

~Cruel Summer

  Lavender was chomping at the bit to spend time with Ron upon their return to Hogwarts the Sunday after New Years, but obligations kept getting in the way. Apparently, Ron was busy with rounds and Prefect meetings during the entire train ride back to the castle, and then Harry had scheduled a team meeting after dinner. She’d given up the hope of seeing him that evening and settled on waiting for him to go down to breakfast the next morning. 

  Lavender hoped Ron wasn’t embarrassed because he never bought her a Christmas gift. They were only together for a month, and there wasn’t a Hogsmeade weekend where he could have gone to buy her anything anyways. And since Harry was staying with the Weasleys, she assumed there were more safety wards in place, so the chances he could get to Diagon Alley to shop for her were slim too. 

  It’s not like she intended on getting him a gift, either, but when she saw the opportunity to get two lockets at buy one get one free, she couldn’t resist. She’d purchased one for Parvati’s gift, and her mother had always taught her to never pass up a deal, so she’d had the locket engraved with ‘Won-Won’ and sent it to him for Christmas.

  When Ron came barreling down the stairs the next morning, Lavender was so excited that she pounced on him, which caused him to flail backwards and almost topple over. 

  “Won-Won!” She left a sloppier than intended kiss on his cheek as he turned his face.

  “Hey, Lav. Er, sorry about yesterday.”

  “It’s fine, are you ready for breakfast?”

  He nodded as they exited the portrait hole. They were halfway to the Great Hall when Lavender attempted to engage him in conversation again. She knew he wasn’t a morning person, but she wasn’t willing to wait another few hours.

  “So, how were your holidays?”

  “Huh? Oh, they were good. Yours?”

  “Wonderful! I love going home for Christmas. My younger brother was so excited to see me. I picked out a toy broom for his gift this year, and he spent the whole two weeks riding on it! I was so sad to say goodbye to him again, but Easter will be here before we know it. Maybe you can come home and meet my family for Easter hols.”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah, sure.”

  Lavender could sense from Ron’s lackluster response that he wasn’t paying attention. So, she followed his gaze, and of course, there was Hermione, most likely darting off to the library or wherever she went to avoid her former best friend. Her blood boiled at the way she was treating Ron. At least that’s what she was telling herself. She certainly wasn’t jealous of the way Ron was watching her.

  Lavender reached up and gently turned his face back to focus on her. “Did you like your gift?”

  “Y-yeah, it’s great.”

  “Are you wearing it?” Her hand slid down to feel his chest. Maybe it was concealed under his uniform.

  “Er, no. I—uh—I’ve got it tucked away under my pillow for safekeeping.”

  “Why? You aren’t embarrassed of us, are you?”

  “N-no! I just like to—uh—keep it close when I’m sleeping so I can dream of you!”

  Lavender suppressed a laugh at his attempt to give an excuse to not wear it. It was sweet, no matter how ridiculous it sounded. She threw her arms around him and squealed in response to his reasoning. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel uncomfortable, so Lavender figured a positive reaction would make him feel better about the whole ordeal.

  “That’s so sweet, Won-Won! I’m glad you liked it!”

  His face turned a blotchy red as they entered the hall and found a seat at the Gryffindor table. Lavender chose not to press the issue anymore as she turned to her thoughts instead. Maybe the locket wasn’t the best idea to give a boyfriend of only a month. But she’d never felt this way before. Seamus had been a fun fling, but with Ron, she felt different. He made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and she hoped she hadn’t given him the wrong impression with the gift. 

  She’d just have to make it up to him in other ways. Yes, that was it. Lavender would make sure he knew how much she cared while also making sure his eye didn’t continue wandering toward her roommate and his former best friend.

  ♚

14 February 1997

  Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

~Lover

  Lavender sat alone in the empty classroom, waiting for Ron to show up after rounds. Rounds! Why did he have to have rounds today, of all days?  It was completely and utterly unfair. He promised her he’d meet her in the empty classroom near Gryffindor tower as soon as rounds were over, but it was already ten past eleven, and he was nowhere to be found.

  She hadn’t gotten him anything this time for fear it might embarrass him again, just like the locket. Oh yes, she’d heard Harry telling Neville about his Christmas present while she was searching for a book in the library, and she heard every excruciating detail of how mortified Ron was by it. Apparently, it wasn’t under his pillow after all. It was hidden in the bottom of his trunk. So, for Valentine’s Day, she opted to give him something he could hang onto in his mind instead. 

  At least, that’s what she planned. Lavender took to pacing the classroom for another ten minutes before resigning to the fact that Ron wasn’t coming. A pang of disappointment rippled out from her heart, and she tried to convince herself that maybe he’d forgotten. But ever since they’d returned from Christmas hols, she felt Ron pulling further and further away. Before the two week break, they’d gone off to spend time together every night, snogging in empty classrooms and broom closets, and sometimes even a late-night walk around the castle. Now, she was lucky if she could pry him away from his studies twice a week to spend some quality time together. 

  Sure, they ate meals together and sat next to each other in their shared classes, but it wasn’t like they ever talked that much. Come to think of it, every time she’d try to ask about his life, he’d always deflect to her. And of course, Lavender never had a problem finding something to talk about with her family because she wanted to share everything she could with Ron. Yet now, she was wondering if he actually cared or if he was just being polite.

  Thoughts consumed her mind as she walked silently back to Gryffindor tower. By the time she entered the common room, it was deserted. Part of her thought about checking to see if Ron was back in the dorms, but the other side told her it wasn’t worth it. It’d be his own fault if he got caught sneaking around after hours without her since he’d ditched her on what was supposed to be the most romantic night of the year. 

  The last thing she wanted to do was go up to her dorm and face Hermione’s smug look when she found out Ron ditched his girlfriend tonight, but she wasn’t about to hang around the common room like a rejected piece of garbage. 

  Ron is still yours. Not hers. Even if tonight didn’t go as planned, still make her remember that.

  So, when she entered the girl’s sixth-year dorm, Lavender plastered a smile on her face. Parvati was sitting on her bed while Hermione’s curtains were closed tight.

  “Hey! I was wondering when you were going to show up. Have a good night?”

  “Oh, it was the best!” Lavender gushed. “Ron was so sweet and romantic. He gave me some chocolate frogs, which I know are his favorite, and I gave him...well, you know.”

  She made her voice sound as suggestive as possible, and if Hermione was listening, then that was her own fault.

  “I need to freshen up now. I’m rather sweaty from all that we got up to. And then I should head to bed. We’ll talk more in the morning, Par, I promise. Ron thoroughly wore me out, I’m exhausted.”

  What neither girl realized, though, was that Lavender let out a good cry in the shower instead. Because her boyfriend ditched her on her favorite day of the year.

  ♚

2 March 1997

  Cause I can’t pretend it’s okay when it’s not

It’s death by a thousand cuts

~Death by a Thousand Cuts

  “I’m sure he’s just on a lot of potions, Lav. I wouldn’t think too much of it.”

  Parvati was attempting to comfort her best friend. Lavender had had a rotten weekend. Ron was poisoned yesterday, on his birthday of all days! Not that the day mattered. He was still poisoned, and he could have died!

  What did make it worse was that nobody thought to tell her until well into the afternoon. She’d burst into the Hospital Wing to find his best friend, sister, and her sitting vigil at his bedside. Lavender didn’t think she’d ever been so livid in her life. And then he’d croaked something out in his sleep that sounded like a name, but it was not hers.

  She felt the entire relationship slipping through her fingers. When did things start to take a turn for the worse? What went wrong? Surely he still fancied her because if he didn’t, then why hadn’t he called things off?

  Because he does still fancy you. Of course, he does! Don’t worry about her. She means nothing to him. 

  Lavender tried with all her might to believe it, but it was becoming harder and harder every day. And despite her best friend’s attempts to make her feel better, it wasn’t doing any good. Parvati wasn’t outside the Hospital Wing with Lav when she overheard Ron talking to Harry and asking for Quidditch magazines. There was no question that he was awake, but as soon as she walked in, Ron ‘magically’ appeared to be sleeping again. And Harry had the audacity to cover for him!

  She’d tried to go see him two more times that day, and both times he was ‘sleeping.’ Something happened, and he was avoiding her, and it hurt. But how could she call him out on it when he was ‘asleep’? 

  She thought about whether she should confide in Parvati or just internalize her feelings. Parvati had been there through everything, but Lavender decided she wasn’t ready to bring up her speculations until she had more proof. So instead, Lavender chose to keep her thoughts to herself.

  Did she want to break things off with Ron? No. Was she willing to do what it took to keep him around? Yes. So, Lavender resolved to do whatever it took to keep Ron interested. She’d back off, not be as needy, and keep things cool and breezy. They could make this work. She was sure of it.

   ♚

2 April 1997

  And I don’t want you to (go) I don’t really wanna (fight)

‘Cause nobody’s gonna (win) I just thought you should know

~Miss Americana and the Heart Break Prince

  Lavender entered the common room after Divination to see Ron sitting on the couch next to Harry. The two were furiously scribbling on parchment, and Lavender couldn't help but roll her eyes at what she assumed to be a last-minute attempt to finish one of his assignments. Even so, she figured she’d surprise him and see if he could be persuaded to take a break and go for a walk instead.

  She dropped her bag behind the sofa and covered Ron’s eyes with her hands. “Guess who!”

  “Oi!” Ron flung his arms back, sending ink droplets flying over his and Harry’s parchment, as well as the table and upholstery of the sofa in the process.

  Lavender ripped her hands off his eyes and apologized with a pout. “It’s only me, Won-Won. I just wanted to surprise you.”

  “Oh, er, sorry, Lav. I’m busy right now. I need to finish Snape’s Defense essay.” 

  The words sounded apologetic, but the lack of sympathy in Ron’s expression caused unease to bubble up in Lavender’s stomach. Usually, he’s better about hiding his disinterest in showing affection around his friends. But the way he’d acted just now made her feel like he was downright repulsed by an innocent touch.

  “But that essay isn’t due until tomorrow. I still have to put the final touches on mine as well. Maybe we could go for a walk now and work on it together after dinner?”

  Sure, the snogging was brilliant, but that’s all they ever seemed to do. She wanted to make things work between them, and after five months, she knew they’d never have a successful relationship if it stayed strictly physical. Besides, that clearly wasn’t working in an effort to keep him interested anymore.

  “Sorry, Lav, I can’t. I’ve got rounds tonight.”

  Another pang of hurt emanated in her chest at his rejection. “Oh, well, maybe I could work on it with you now, then?”

  She knew what his answer was going to be before he said anything. He was already packing up his things. 

  “Er, maybe on another assignment. I’ve got to hit the library before dinner and see if I can find one more source. I’ll meet up with you later, though, yeah?”

  Ron was already out of his seat and headed for the door without bothering to wait for a response, which further solidified Lavender’s suspicion that it was an offer he didn’t intend to follow through on. Ordinarily, she would have given him the benefit of the doubt, but it’d been three weeks of him avoiding her ever since he and Hermione had reconciled. With a heavy sigh, she picked up her bag and headed for the girl’s dormitory, where she passed Hermione on the stairwell.

  “Let me guess, Ron’s busy?” Parvati asked, saving Lavender from having to retell the excuse.

  “Yeah. He has rounds tonight, I guess.”

  “Huh.”

  “What?”

  “Hermione has rounds tonight, too. Padma said they switched back for the month.”

  Lavender felt as though a fifty-pound weight had been placed on her chest as her heart constricted at Parvati’s news. She knew this was coming but refused to believe it, choosing instead to turn a blind eye to all the signs. A tear escaped out of the corner of her eye as she tried to come to terms with the fact that no matter what she did, Hermione was going to win. Which led her to wonder whether Ron had ever truly been hers at all.

  Well, good. If Ron’s not interested anymore, then he can be a man and break things off. And if he’s too much of a coward to do it on his own, then I’ll do everything in my power to help push him along, all while reminding Hermione that he’s still mine in the process.

Maybe it was spiteful, but Lavender no longer cared. Deep down, she knew their relationship was probably doomed from the start, but that didn’t lessen the pain. Perhaps she never stood a chance, especially knowing his relationship with Hermione never was a typical friendship, but Ron could have told her no all those months ago if that was the case. Their fleeting relationship may have come to pass, but at least Lavender had the memories of time spent together to look back on when he had cared. Because he had cared once, right?

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight  - Chapter 15: Hiccup

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~4300

Rating: PG-13 (brief language)

Summary: Almost four weeks since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: And we’re back! Since it’s been ages... Previously on Fight or Flight - Hana had learned that Barthelemy and Godfrey were working with Auvernal from Kiara, but Liam didn’t seem motivated to take much action regarding that fact. Leo had gotten money and belongings to Riley, who shared an intimate moment with Drake when she returned to their hotel.

This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

Liam let out a sigh as he changed the channel back to CBC. He needed to be actively watching, probably should be taking notes, in all honesty. This hour of programming consisted of discussion with three of the most connected political pundits in the country. It was the easiest and most reliable way to get a feel for the leanings of both the journalists and the common citizens, and it aired every weekday, so it was far more up to date than waiting for the biweekly polling.

The issue was that the panelists were revelling in the recent turn of events with such glee. It was understandable, he supposed. This was the most exciting political turn of events this country had seen in centuries. It put the mild speculation that he was Bridget’s biological father, a rumor had surfaced around the time of his announcement that Drake and Riley’s child would be heir and had briefly flared again at Bridget’s first public appearance when people had seen that she indeed looked like a child with some East Asian heritage, to shame. This wasn’t just baseless gossip and stirring the pot to increase ratings. This was true turmoil, plain and simple. There was a relative unknown carrying the power of the Crown, the current Queen-regent had been “kidnapped” and not seen in weeks, citizens were protesting daily, and this was all expected to last for months until the Conclave, where all the tension and drama would culminate in a vote among the five major noble houses to name a new monarch. The journalists and talking heads had a seemingly endless feast in front of them. All of it at his expense.

He took another sip of his scotch as he tried to focus on the screen ahead of him. If he could figure out how to gain a majority of the public’s support, then he could apply some pressure to Kiara and Landon prior to the Conclave vote. Not that he was naive enough to think that would be enough to assure that he would regain his title, but at least it would be one more piece of ammunition in his arsenal.

“The protests outside of the Capital aren’t going to be as easily quieted as the ones in Valtoria, Victor,” Francine Giorano stated, leaning forward and gesturing across the table to Victor Blussé. Blussé was the moderate on the panel, while Giorano was a staunch traditionalist. “They have had fears about the role the essentially-American Walkers played in our government for years, and look how right those fears turned out to be.”

“How is any of this the Walkers’ fault, Francine? This can all be traced to Barthelemy Beaumont!”

“The Conventus Nobilis was written into our foundational laws for a reason, Victor,” chimed in Willa Hyllop, the final member of the panel, added to the program in the past year to bring in a more modern, pro-democratic viewpoint.

“Surely you aren’t saying you are on the side of Beaumont, Willa! He represents an even less progressive faction than Liam Rys ever did.”

“I may not agree with everything he stands for, but I will always support measures that place some checks and accountability on our monarchy,” said Hyllop with a shrug. “Besides, the fact that Rys surrounded himself with yes-men and granted titles and appointments on the basis of friendship since he ascended the throne did little to convince me that he was the ‘progressive king’ he swore he was. He was more of the same, just without the aggressive rhetoric of his father.”

“And look how that turned out! Lest we forget, he stood by while Auvernal brought warships to our shore last year,” added Giorano.

Liam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Giorano and Hyllop were never on the same page about anything, and here they were, agreeing that he had been an ineffectual king. He tuned out Blussé’s response, knowing that some lukewarm rebuttal from him was going to do little to bolster his confidence. The fact was simple - his fall from grace was widespread. There were few left who saw him as worthy of the title of king. He had failed, completely and entirely.

 “Liam?” Olivia’s voice cut over the television. 

Liam opened his eyes to find her staring at him from the lounge’s doorway, a frown cutting across her face. He forced a smile as he gestured for her to join him. “Just taking a little break from hearing how incompetent I am.”

Olivia’s green eyes narrowed at his poor attempt at humor, but she strode over to him, joining him on the couch, undoubtedly taking in the blank notepad, the untouched stacks of documents, and the glass of liquor that sat on the table in front of him. “Well, that’s the perception we’re going to have to work to change.”

He tipped his head to rest along the back of the couch, sighing as he did so. “I know, Liv. It just seems so impossible at the moment.”

She didn’t say anything for several excruciating seconds. He rolled his head to the side, taking in her face, concerned eyes boring into him as she slid a hand around her neck, her blood-red nails digging into her skin. “We’ve got months still, Liam. Calling our goal impossible is premature.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right, and I’m all ears if you have any recommendations for where to start.”

“Well, I got confirmation that Landon and Emmeline’s driver is loyal to us, so Ray is going to approach him at the Derby this weekend to see if he might be willing to earn a little extra cash by divulging some secrets. And their new head of kitchen has a brother with significant gambling debts, so that’s another lead worth pursuing.”

“Sounds good, Olivia.”

“Now, as far as next steps for you, I was hoping you might give reporters a few minutes for questions before the derby.”

Liam swallowed, his brain scrambling to come up with a reason, any reason, against her suggestion, when his phone vibrated on the table, the name “Bastien” flashing across the screen.

“Why is he calling you?” Olivia asked. All Liam could do was shrug as he leaned forward, grabbing his phone and swiping to accept the call.

“Bastien?”

“I don’t have long,” he started, not even taking the time for a greeting. “I don’t know if you are in touch with Drake, but if you are, you need to let him know that they need to get out of Athens.”

“What are you-”

“Rashad is negotiating with Greek authorities right now to allow the King’s Guard to be the ones to make the arrest. We are waiting on the tarmac for clearance to fly to Athens.”

���How-”

“He’s requesting Greek surveillance of their hotel until we get there. They need to leave now.”

“Bastien, what-”

“I have to go.” And then, the line was dead.

Liam sat there, numb and frozen, trying to process the slew of information that had just been dumped into his lap by his former head of security. 

“What the hell is going on?” Olivia’s voice drew him out of his daze, prompting him to set down his phone on the couch, digging frantically through the stacks of papers.

“I need my burner.” He heard his voice as if he were an outsider observer. It was thin and shaky, frail and panicked. His hands shook as he felt around the table in front of him, knocking over a pile containing reproductions of the accounts of the last Conclave, dozens of papers spilling onto the floor.

“Liam, what the fuck did he tell you?”

“They know where they are. We have to warn them.” All his frustrations and pain related to Drake and Riley suddenly felt so petty, so ridiculous. The stakes were higher for them, always had been higher for them. They were about to get arrested over wanting to keep custody of their daughter. And while they left him to fend for himself, left Cordonia in a state of political upheaval, he knew that was a price that was wildly unfair.

“Who knows where they are? Rashad?”

“Yes,” said Liam, shoving more and more documents around the table. Where was his burner?

“How does he know?”

“I don’t know! Where the fuck is it?” Liam swiped his arm across the table, books and papers flying, the sound of glass breaking echoing through the room as his scotch tumbled to the ground.

A strong set of fingers with sharp red nails slid around his wrist, holding him still. He took a rough breath as he turned to face Olivia, who was eyeing him as she tugged her own burner out of her pocket, only breaking his gaze to glance down at the screen, tapping three times before holding it to her ear and looking back at Liam.

The few seconds of silence on her end were maddening, but then she was speaking, her voice curt and all business. “Drake, authorities are coming. You gotta go. Now.”

Liam tried to rein in his rapid breathing, tried to calm his heart rate down to something more human. “The King’s Guard is flying into Athens. They are leaving now. Rashad asked for Greek surveillance until-” but Olivia nodded at him, cutting him off.

“I don’t know how. But your hotel is about to be under Greek surveillance until the King’s Guard arrives, so you guys have to get moving. Good luck.” She hung up at that, letting out a massive sigh. “Shit,” she breathed out after a few seconds, her eyes bouncing back and forth before she slammed them shut, clearly planning and preparing.

Liam felt her fingers trembling around his wrist for just a second, but then she let go. She pushed herself off the couch with a flourish. “Find your burner. I’m gonna make some calls, but we need to destroy any evidence that we were in contact with them,” she said, nearly jogging towards the door.

“Olivia…”

She spun around and let out a little breath before walking back towards the couch. Her hand settled on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze as she gave him a nod. “We warned them as soon as we could, but we need to be the ones worried about the big picture right now. And things will only be worse for them if you and I are arrested, right?”

All he could do was nod. She was 100 percent correct.

“Okay, so find your burner. I’ll be back in a little bit, Liam.” And with that, she was off, a woman on a mission, leaving him sitting there, shaking on the couch, just trying to find his footing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Hana shook hands with the final citizen, a woman in her late 40s who had been born and raised in Valtoria.

“Thank you so much, Your Grace,” she said, smiling as she returned the handshake.

“Of course. Just because our country is going through a period of transition doesn’t mean that I am going to ignore the needs of Valtoria’s citizens.”

The woman thanked her again before turning and exiting the formal dining room, the location Hana had chosen for the first Citizen Open Forum she’d scheduled. The large table provided ample seating, but the room was close enough to the main entrance to make it unlikely that anyone could wander into private areas of the estate without being caught by staff. 

Olivia had been irritated when Hana had told her she was opening up the estate to the public. “You are giving Barthelemy’s people free access,” she told her. But Hana knew that she couldn’t just sidestep her duties as a duchess. Not only would that weaken people’s perception of Liam by association, but morally she just couldn’t do that. The country was in such turmoil because of a few members of the nobility trying to wrest power from some other nobles. For her citizens to be left neglected due to the whims of the highly privileged was ethically something she couldn’t allow to happen. So she’d hosted the forum, hearing directly from Valtoria’s residents what she should prioritize to improve their lives, but made sure to instruct her staff to notify her immediately if anyone was caught wandering too far from the dining room or bathroom. It was the best she felt she could do under the circumstances.

However, the last citizen had now vacated the estate, and Hana couldn’t help but let out a contented sigh. It had gone well, she thought. She had clear budgetary priorities to request at the upcoming meeting between the social season’s derby and the stop in Lythikos. Plus, one of the leaders of the protesters in front of the estate had come, and conversation with him had been productive. Obviously, she couldn’t outright tell him that she wished she could be right out there with them, carrying a sign that said “She’s their kid,” but he had given her a knowing smile when she told him she saw no reason to intervene when Cordonia citizens were just exercising a right to free speech. He had all but promised her that the protests would stay peaceful and would not target her for her assumption of the role of Duchess of Valtoria.

As she wandered into the kitchen to make herself some tea, she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. She turned on the tap to fill the kettle with one hand as she moved to answer the call with the other.

“Olivia, how are you?” she asked, watching the kettle fill.

“Do you not answer your phone anymore?”

Hana frowned, pulling the phone away from her ear and swiping the screen. “I don’t have any missed calls, Olivia.”

“Not this phone. I’ve called you no less than ten times.”

She turned off the tap and set the full kettle on the counter, a nagging thread of anxiety and fear worming its way into her heart with that statement. “What’s wrong?”

“Turn on the news.”

Hana spun around, finding the remote laying on the island and turning on the television mounted in the eat-in nook.

“-these exclusively obtained photos show a woman who appears to be the former duchess, Riley Walker, conversing with the former Crown Prince, Leo Rys, at a bar in Athens.”

The screen filled with a low-quality image, clearly zoomed in several times. The lighting was a sort of orange color, and the faces were grainy and fuzzy, but there was Riley, although her hair was clearly dyed a much lighter color. Leo’s face was only seen in profile, not as identifiable, but he was obviously talking to her. The screen changed to a new photo, Leo a bit more recognizable in this one, passing Riley something.

“Oh no,” said Hana, leaning against the counter.

“-clear evidence of collusion between the former Crown Prince and Riley Walker, who has been charged with treason and kidnapping of the monarch,” the anchor droned on, but Olivia’s response drowned out the quiet volume of the television.

“Yeah, that’s an understatement. So what was so pressing that you were ignoring your burner?”

“I had the forum with the citizens, and I thought if I was carrying two cell phones, that might-”

A massive groan from Olivia cut her off. “Whatever. Well, you need to destroy your burner. Now.”

“But what about Riley and-”

“I warned them. Hopefully they are able to get out of Athens, but nothing else we can do there. It’s time to protect ourselves.”

“Olivia, what-”

“I gotta go check on Liam. Destroy the phone, Hana. And don’t call me.”

“Why can’t I-”

“-Liam is definitely going to be questioned since Leo is now known to be involved. We can talk at the derby, but if they start monitoring our phone records, I don’t want to give them any reason to think we are scheming.”

Before Hana could as much as tell Olivia she understood, she heard the line click dead. Taking a few seconds for some calming breaths, she centered herself before she climbed the stairs to her quarters, a pit of dread cementing itself firmly in her stomach with each step. She reached her room and opened the top drawer of her dresser, pulling the burner phone out from underneath her nylons. Sure enough, she had dozens of missed notifications from Olivia, and a couple from Maxwell as well. Well, she knew what those were regarding. No need to deal with them at this point. Instead, she walked over to her dressing table and grabbed her manicure kit.

She wandered down the hallway towards the lounge, taking in the quiet and calm. It was odd; the estate probably had more people in it currently than it had for most of the time Riley and Drake had lived there. Hana didn’t feel compelled to aggressively minimize the staff presence like they had, far more used to having employees around from her upbringing. But staff were expected to be as discreet and silent as possible, to make themselves scarce, particularly in the private quarters. 

No one had ever called Riley quiet. There was a certain vibrancy she brought to any room, and her voice and laughter were always echoing through the halls. And even though Drake wasn’t the most talkative, he certainly would quip, snark, and joke in the privacy of his own home. Of course, once Bridget was born, there was more noise and energy and life than ever before. Now, it was just Hana and the corgis. The estate felt hollow and soulless.

Once in the lounge, Hana shut the door behind her firmly. Anderson glanced up, but quickly draped his head back over Vera, all the dogs curled up on their giant cushion in the corner. Hana knew that the maids had cleaned the lounge yesterday, so she was unlikely to be found there. She sat down in one of the armchairs, and pried the cover off the back of her phone using her cuticle pusher. All the electronic components stared up at her, ready for her to do her worst. But before she could bring herself to kill the only connection she had to her best friend, she flipped the phone over and sent one last message to Riley.

I love you all. Stay safe. I’ll find a way to get in touch when I can.

Letting out a sigh, she turned the phone back over. She spent the next 15 minutes prying off motherboards and any chips and cards she could find, dropping them one by one into her container of acetone nail polish remover. Then, she removed the battery before placing the remaining elements into the fireplace. She would just have to store the battery under her floorboards until she could figure out how to safely dispose of it. 

She started a fire, then curled up on the couch, tugging a quilt over her lap as she watched her only connection to the first person to show her unconditional love melt and warp, eventually turning to ash. Tears started trailing down her cheeks, dripping onto her blouse and the quilt, but she didn’t care. She was devastated - for herself, for her found family, and for her country. At some point, Anderson jumped up to join her, nestling in against her legs.

“I miss them so much,” she said, dropping a hand to the top of his head. “So, so much.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Bridget was wailing in her crib, but Riley didn’t have time to calm her. She needed to pack. Now.

When Drake had called her, she knew something bad was happening. He’d left with their passports this afternoon to take them to a cousin of a friend of someone Drake had met at the restaurant, someone who was supposed to be able to help with fake documents and forgeries. The plan had been to change their names and their country of origin, allowing them to catch a flight to the States without getting stopped at the airport. The final destination once there hadn’t been decided. Drake had wanted to go to Texas, but Leona’s presence scared Riley. She had already sold out their safety for a quick payday once before.

But that debate was a moot point now. So was the uncertainty about this unknown forger on whom they were relying. Drake had called, frantic and alarmed, clearly running and somewhat out of breath as he spoke to her. Telling her Olivia had called to warn them they were about to be arrested. Telling her to pack. Telling her they needed to run.

So Bridget was unceremoniously dumped into her travel crib as Riley tried to shove everything into the duffel bags from Leo. She knew she should leave the impractical things, like the framed photos, but those would incriminate their friends. So they had to come with. Toiletries seemed essential, too. Some of the clothes were going to have to get left behind. Some of the toys as well. She had to be able to carry everything in one trip. She had to get to the car as quickly as possible. 

She knew it had probably been less than five minutes since Drake had called, but it felt like she was moving too slowly, taking way too long. Drake hadn’t given her any sort of time frame. Who knew if Olivia had even given him one. But for all she knew, police were rounding the corner, waiting for her in the hallway, about to burst through the hotel door. So she shoved and crammed and squeezed everything she could into the duffel bags and the diaper bag. Those would go over her shoulders, the crib would collapse and go in one arm, Bridget in the other. That would have to be good enough. 

Once she was sure that the bags were as full as they could be, she pulled Bridget out, placing her on the floor as she scrambled to collapse the crib, fumbling with the locking mechanism for just a few seconds before it folded in on itself, allowing her to tuck it into her elbow. By some mad miracle, Bridget was hanging close by, not trying to crawl away to explore and cause trouble. Maybe she was frightened by the way Riley was acting. Regardless, it was a blessing.

Knowing she was as ready as she was going to be, she loaded everything up and grabbed Bridget, pausing just briefly to juggle their possessions as she opened the door. She didn’t bother closing it behind her, just moved as quickly as she could with her load down the hallway, down the stairs, through the lobby, and around the corner to the street where their car was parked. No one tried to stop her or talk to her, so she took the time to toss everything on the ground and properly latch Bridget into her car seat. Then, she threw everything in the hatchback before climbing into the passenger’s seat and locking the doors behind her. Bridget continued to cry, but there was little Riley could do to comfort her at this point. All that was left to do was wait for Drake.

Drake had told her to meet him in the car, but she didn’t like feeling exposed, sitting where anyone could see her during broad daylight. Add to that the fact that she was in the passenger seat, so she wouldn’t even be able to make a quick getaway if need be. Her piss-poor driving skills were just one more area where she was making their life harder, but there was no way to fix that right now. All she could do was hang tight. She was contemplating what in the car she could use as a weapon if it came down to it when her phone buzzed. She swiped to answer instantly when she saw it was Drake’s number.

“Drake, where are you?”

“Around the corner from the hotel. You in the car?”

“Yeah. How did-” but before she could get her question out, she saw Drake through the driver’s side window. She let out a little yelp of surprise before reaching over and unlocking the door, handing him the keys as soon as he sat down. 

He didn’t even bother to say anything, just started the car and eased off the clutch as he shifted into first gear, pulling out onto the road. Bridget quieted soon after they got moving, but Riley didn’t feel any better as the yelling and screaming subsided. She just stared at Drake, one hand braced on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift, his neck and shoulders so tense and coiled, he looked ready to burst.

“Where are we going?” she finally chanced asking.

Drake shook his head, never taking his eyes off the road. “I don’t know. Out of Athens.”

“Then why are we making so many turns?”

“Don’t know if we were being watched or followed. Gotta lose anyone who might be tailing us.” His voice was clipped and frayed. He sounded about five seconds away from losing it completely. Riley wanted to hold his hand, to comfort him in some way. But she didn’t want to distract him, both from driving and from the tiny amount of control he had over his emotional response to everything that was unfolding. After all, they weren’t safe yet. So she just nodded and grabbed her phone off her lap.

“I’ll pull up some maps, okay?”

He nodded and let out a rough breath at that. “Thanks, Walker,” he said before flipping on the radio. “Can you try and find us a news station?”

“Drake, I won’t-”

“I’ll translate.”

And so they were off, unsure where or how far they needed to go to be safe. All they could do at this point was keep moving forward.

Perma: @walkerswhiskeygirl​ @octobereighth​ @kimmiedoo5​ @mom2000aggie​

TRR/TRH: @twinkleallnight​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @mskaneko​ @axwalker​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @marshmallowsandfire​ @kingliam2019​ @sirbeepsalot​ @texaskitten30 @princessleac1​ @ladyangel70​ @debramcg1106​ @masterofbluff​  

Drake/MC:  @no-one-u-know   @iplaydrake​

FoF: @burnsoslow​ @bobasheebaby​

[poedameronloverx]

Who’s Looking After You?

Life in Lockdown - Masterlist

Poe Dameron x F Solo Reader

Hey everyone! Hope you’ve all had a lovely week. Here is the next part of my series. 

Big mentions of covid again this week so if that’s going to upset you then I full understand if you want to give this a miss. Also mentions of anxiety.

But we also have more of reader bonding with BeeBee and a nice wee heart to heart between her and Poe. And then there’s Finn asking the questions we all want the answer to!

Month 3 – May 2020

Rose's illness came and went without too much drama. Her symptoms suggested COVID but she hadn't been as ill with it as a lot of other people had. Poe had a few symptoms too, they started off pretty mild. He decided to stay in the house just incase so you had taken over BeeBee's walks. The little dog was confused at first, wondering why his best friend wasn't walking him but he soon got used to it and was happy to be out with you. You and Rose were taking turns to look after Poe. Finn was still keeping out of the way due to his work, so the two of you were working around one another and your work schedules to check on how Poe was feeling. After a few days he started to feel worse, his throat was sore and he had no energy. You made him soup and checked in to make sure he was looking after himself.

“Sweetheart, you're going to get sick” he protested as you moved his pillows around to help him get comfortable.

“I'm not worried about me, I'm worried about you!” you replied “And I'm going to continue to worry about you and take care of you until you're back to your normal self!” 

You fussed around him some more, making sure he had everything he needed before you had to head back to your desk for a zoom meeting.

“So, when are we going to talk about it?” Finn asked, a few nights later as you sat down to dinner with him and Rose.

“Talk about what?” you asked

“This sexual tension between you and Poe”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on! You can't pretend, it's so obvious that you like him and it's obvious that he likes you so once he's better you should do something about it!”

“Wait, did he say something?” Rose asked “Because you didn't tell me he liked her back!”

“Hold on!” you butted in “You told Finn?”

“I'm sorry! I know I should've kept my mouth shut but it's Finn and he promised me he wouldn't tell Poe!”

“And I didn't!” Finn replied “But I just think you two deserve to be happy and being together would obviously make both of you happy!”

“You guys need to stop getting involved. Poe doesn't like me in that way and that's totally fine. He's my friend and I don't want to lose that if you guys make this awkward so please stop!”

“We won't make it awkward” Rose replied “We won't say another thing”

You couldn't sleep that night, everything Finn had said was going round on loop in your head. BeeBee slept soundly at the foot of the bed, he'd taken to sleeping in your room most nights. You climbed out of bed and looked out the window. The rain was falling onto the peaceful street. It had been raining for a few hours and puddles had already formed everywhere. You decided to head downstairs to get a glass of water, the lack of sleep was beginning to annoy you. When you walked into the living room, you were startled to see a figure sat on the couch.

“Poe? What are you doing up?”

“Couldn't sleep” he replied “I'm feeling a lot better so I figured there was no harm in having a little wander round the house since everyone was in bed!”

“As long as you’re alright” you replied

“I am, wanna sit with me for a while? You’ve been taking care of me so you’ve probably passed any risk of catching this”

“Yeah, may as well since I’m wide awake”

You could feel him staring at you, he hadn't put the lights on in the living room. Only the small lamp in the dining room was giving any light.

“Tell me honestly, are you doing okay? You had all the stress with your dad being ill, then you looked after Rose and now you’re looking after me. Who’s looking after you sweetheart”

“Honestly Poe, I’m fine. Keeping busy keeps my mind off of not being able to see my family. I like looking after you guys. I enjoy walking Bee, I like making the soups you’ve taught me and when I’m not working I like cooking dinner for us all”

“You’re too good to us. Even just letting Finn and I move in and completely throw your life into even more chaos by taking over your home”

You glanced at him and smiled.

“I like having you here” you replied “It’s good to have a group to hang out with. Rose and I would bicker about stupid stuff when we just spent weekends together. We would’ve been a nightmare alone for all these weeks. I like being able to spend time with her but then have the option to walk away from her and hang out with you. I’m not going to lie and say these past few weeks have been easy and amazing because they haven’t, they’ve sucked. Not knowing if my dad was going to be alright or not whilst not being able to see my mum was torture. Then Rose getting ill and now you, I feel like I’ve constantly been worried and my anxiety has been terrible but I really am alright”

“Can we make a deal then?” Poe asked

“What kind of deal?”

“Well I’m worried about you and how much you’ve taken on, so how about once a week you have an evening to yourself? Run a bath, or just have a lie down. Whatever you want. It would just make me feel better to know that you were taking a break!”

“Alright, deal” you replied “Now tell me what else is on that mind of yours?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well Poe Dameron, I can basically see the cogs turning under that beautiful hair of yours. So tell me what's on your mind”

He sighed “My work is struggling. The pandemic has hit us hard and they don't know if we'll be able to keep going. I might lose my job”

“Oh Poe, I'm so sorry. Is that why they stopped you guys working from home?”

“Yeah, there wasn't enough work for us so they told us not to bother. We're still going to get paid for now but I really don't know how long that's going to last for”

“I'm sure something else will come up” you replied “And if not, you know we're all here for you. You'll never find yourself out on the street”

“Thank you sweetheart, that really means the world to me!”

A few days later, you were getting ready to take BeeBee his walk. You’d been working that morning, once you’d finished you had time to make a pot of soup for lunch, re-organise the living room and dust every surface in the room. BeeBee was very set in his ways and always knew when it was walk time. He wouldn’t let anyone forget it either, his usual tactic was slowly wandering over to where you were and nudging your ankle with his nose. You were just putting your coat on when Poe walked into the room.

“I’m feeling much better and I’m going stir crazy in this house. Fancy some company?”

“I dunno, what do you think BeeBee, should we let your dad tag along? He might cramp our style!”

The Corgi wagged his tail with excitement when he saw his best friend was ready to take him out for the first time in over a week. BeeBee had always enjoyed the attention you gave him whenever you went to see Poe and Finn, or if they’d brought him over, but living together had meant you and the little dog had bonded a lot more, especially when you had to walk him. He was spending a lot of time with you rather than Poe.

“I think he’s alright with it” you chuckled

“I think he’s replacing me” Poe pouted “You’re now his favourite person in the world”

“I mean, can you blame him? I’m awesome!”

“That’s true! But don’t let your head get too big or you won’t fit out the front door!”

Rose wandered into the room, she smiled when she saw Poe putting his coat on.

“You’re feeling better! That’s great”

“Much better. And I absolutely cannot wait to go outside”

“Enjoy the fresh air! But remember if it’s too much, you need to rest”

“I will Rose, thanks. I’m sure Y/N will take care of me and make sure I’m not over doing it”

“Damn right I will”

The walk was nice, you took it at a slow pace so Poe wouldn’t get tired too quickly. BeeBee seemed to have an extra spring in his step now that his dad was back walking him. You did a lap round the park before Poe said he was tired. You found a bench and let him sit down whilst you threw a ball for BeeBee. When the dog got bored of the game you sat down next to Poe.

“You doing okay?”

“I’m fine sweetheart, thanks”

“Do you fancy a coffee or anything?”

“Nah, just your company is enough for me”

You ducked your head, hoping he wouldn’t see your embarassment. You smiled as BeeBee ran around chasing after a bird that just wanted to sit on the grass. May had been an extremely difficult month with Rose and Poe both being ill, Poe’s job being at risk and not being able to go and help your mum look after your dad. 6 weeks of being in lockdown had been hard, your anxiety was flaring worse than ever and some days felt more of a struggle than others. You were glad to be with your friends and BeeBee. Facetime had been a lifeline to keep in touch with your parents, your brother and sister in law and your two nephews. You just hoped it wouldn’t be too long until you could see them in person.

So thats us for this week. I hope if you read it you enjoy it and as always your comments and suggestions would mean the world to me. I’m kinda lagging behind with where I wanted to be with this series in terms of how many chapters ahead I had written so if you guys have any suggestions of things you’d like me to write in this then please do let me know <3

[smellysluna]

The one where Adrien dances with you

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Adrien Agreste & [YOU]

Warnings/Tags: mostly swearing and PDA but very mild, fluff you’d say?

Summary: you meet Adrien at a gala hosted by the Vanilies in London, you confuse Adrien for Felix but your misunderstanding quickly turns into something else.

Note: I feel like the ending kinda sucks a lot but mblerghh i don’t want to wait to post this, enjoy babes!

Graham de Vanilie Group invites you to a Fundraising Holiday Gala. 7th of May 2020. Six o’clock in the Buckingham Palace. 

The last time the Graham de Vanilie Group hosted a fundraiser was a few years back, right before one of their CEOs passed away. You place the invitation card back in the envelope you received from Félix. You’re startled by the sudden invite and glance at your best friend.

“I suspect that the black envelopes were your choice?”

Félix nearly flinched. After all, he does his best at hiding feelings and intentions; he does fool most people but you always knew him better than the palm of your hand. So when the blond tried to suppress his astonishment, you almost smirked.

“You never fail to surprise me.” His voice is flat and deep but it quivers right at the end.

“You’re way too predictable.”

You place the open envelope onto your desk. When you turn around, you notice Félix’s leg go in an up-and-down motion. He was waiting for an answer, you knew, but he wasn’t going to ask for it. You step up to your walk-in closet and go through the dresses.

“It’s been a long time since I bought a gala dress,” you yell to Félix.

You didn’t hear how he walked into the closet. For whatever that means, you never notice when he sneaks up on you but you’re used to it by now. 

“Do you want to match, for old time’s sake?”

“That’s brilliant, Félix! Are you free this weekend?”

He falls silent for a moment, pursing his lips. “I could create an opening in my schedule on Saturday morning.”

“It’s settled then. Saturday at 9:30 we’ll get some breakfast and then—”

“I said I could, not that I would.” 

You stare at him with the utmost hateful look you could muster. “You fucking asshole.”

Turns out that Félix did clear up some plans to go shopping that weekend. As planned, you had chosen clothing that matched. When the day of the gala came, Félix told you to meet him at the venue because he had some responsibilities as one of the hosts. He had to receive guests and be there for his mother.

You arrive at Buckingham palace with your parents and as soon as you get in, the three of you are greeted by the remaining members of the Vanillies. You and your parents split ways. 

Félix looked as dashing as ever, his suit perfectly matched your long dress. He had his hair slicked back as usual but it seemed that he used a more than necessary quantity of gel. 

“What’s with your hair today, I can see myself in it.” You joked.

“Thank you, your hair isn’t any better,” he replies coldly.

You scoff, “tell that to my hairdresser.”

“I just might.”

“Sure you will, wanker.”

He glares disapprovingly and dismisses you. “Go bother the waiters. Maybe get something to drink while you’re at it. You’re tolerable when drunk.”

You just smile at him and let go of the bickering. “I better get started, then.” You leave Félix tending the rest of the guests.

“Hey,” he calls out, “I’ll find you later.” You nod at him and keep walking, swaying your hips in exaggeration just to annoy him.

The Buckingham’s ballroom wasn’t as spacious like the usual contracted venues by the Vanillie Group. It only seemed fair, though. Most of the guests already there were closer to their inner circle —comfortable enough to invite but just as brave.

The ballroom was clear enough to recognise the people you knew and had to greet for the sake of politeness. If you’re lucky there will be some entertainment. You move toward the clique the teenagers had unconsciously formed with a smile. 

After some boring interactions with the biggest snob —according to you and Félix— known as Vanessa you excuse yourself and ditch the posse to find Félix. You remark at yourself that the room had filled generously within an instant. Now you only wonder in which corner the tolerable snob had secluded himself to. While executing the quest, you straighten your posture out of habit.

The next thing, you see the back of a blond head. The posture and the shoulder build was right… Why was Félix’s hair suddenly not gelled back? You had to find out and on the way to wisdom you wondered whether his mother forced him to get rid of the excessive amount of gel he used. You grab his hand and turn him around. 

Not taking a good glance, you say unladylike —the way you always talk to him—, “what did you do to your hair?” You glance around and play with his hair, wondering how he managed to wash his hair in this place. “You were never planning on looking for me, weren’t you?” You glared at the blond.

You expected Félix’s stoic-stone-cold stare but instead you were met by a stupefied smile. There’s no doubt that it’s the same face but the expressions don’t match. At your approach the blond scratched his neck.

“I think you’ve mistaken me for my cousin,” he smiles and your face widens in shock. It feels like your heart just fell to the core of the Earth.

You let go of his hand and apologize frantically. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t notice you weren’t Félix.” You cover your face. “This is so embarrassing, I’m sorry.”

Félix’s cousin uncovers your face carefully but instead of looking at him, you keep your gaze on the floor’s carpet.

“Don’t worry —It’s not your fault! Everybody confuses us both.” He keeps silent for a moment. “Hey,” he tries to get you to look at him, “it’s okay —it really is.” Giving into his words, you glance up at him.

His stare and your stare cross. You take him in entirely. Even though he had the same face as someone you knew like the palm of your own hand, he felt like a different person. But he was a different person! Realising this, your heart ached in a way it had never done before. The air hitched at the back of your throat and neither the blond neither you said anything, you were both speechless.

He cleared his throat in what felt like a moment of paradise, the spell broke. 

The music in the ballroom becomes louder. “Would you like to share a dance with me?” He offers an open hand and a bright smile. 

With a twinkle in your eyes, you lay your hand in his. “I’d love to.”

He guided you closer to the musicians at the far end of the ballroom. At the center of the far end, on top of a podium connected to a pair of stairs, were the Queen’s and King’s thrones. Both seats were vacant but you knew that the Queen was somewhere nearby, you greeted her not long ago. 

At the far end walls were another pair of stairs connecting to each side of the wall; on the left was the string orchestra and on the right was the wind orchestra. You found yourself stranded in between.

The blond preserves his grip on your hand and faces you. In response, you put your arms around his shoulders.

You scoff, “even Félix holds me closer.”

At the comparison, the blond in front of you tensed. He pulled you closer out of sheer stubbornness.

Then most certainly, you’re reminded that he’s not Félix. The contact sent shivers down your spine. The feeling of him, so close, ricketed your heart. You were sucked into your own world where there was only him, the music and you. Too dumbfounded to notice anybody else, you begin to dance. Luckily, you had incorporated into a slow waltz. The both of you moved loosely without any missteps. 

An unseen force pulled you into his eyes, your will was to weak to pry you away from staring at him. Not once were you tempted to talk to him, you had everything you needed. His hand on your wait, your arm on his shoulder and a magic connection. 

A few steps later, your heart calmed down and only then you dared to speak. “I’m (Y/N), (Y/N) (L/N).” He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back.

“Name’s Adrien, Adrien Agreste.”

You bite your lip, scolding yourself for ruining your applied lipstick, as you both keep moving rhythmically to the orchestra. “Agreste..? I’ve never heard of you,” the spell your eyes shared had long broken so you move your eyes around the moving ballroom, “or seen you.”

You heard him chuckle and it was so precious you imprinted it to your memory. It was dumb, really, but you couldn’t help it. “You’re Félix’s friend,” he told you as a matter of fact but the short sad smile doesn’t go unnoticed. “I imagine he never said he had a cousin.” You wanted to reply first but nodded instead. 

“Why has he never talked about you?”

Adrien pulled you closer unconsciously but your heart rate spiked in an instant. “The short version of the story is that his mother’s twin is my mother but she married Gabriel Agreste and moved to France with him.”

You let the untold drama to sink in. You imagine what secrets these two families were keeping and you grin to yourself. Juicy rich people drama. 

Before replying to Adrien, you avoid biting your lip as to not ruin the professionally applied make-up. “That explains a little,” you guide Adrien into the pace increased music, “but I’d love to hear the full version.”

In your head, you created Adrien as somebody sweet and always polite, a soft person but when he takes the lead in your waltz… you realize he’s not as soft as you had pegged him for. 

“Maybe later, My Lady.”

The tempo gets stronger and faster and gracefully you keep following the rhythm. The room starts spinning and you only have a focus on the boy with the green eyes. The music is loud and it drums in your ears or maybe it was your heart beating so hard, you weren’t sure. You were having fun, and you keep the flow going without even skipping a beat. Your feet hurt from your heels but you couldn’t even feel the pain. The trumpets sang loud, the violins serenaded violently and your heart drifted ecstatically. The smile on your faces wouldn’t leave and you thought you were tiptoeing through the sky. Quite frankly, dancing with Adrien Agreste felt liberating. 

It wasn’t until the tempo slowed down that you were aware that you had broken a sweat. You recalled the times when you danced with Félix, not even a drop of sweat. He’d always push you to your limits but you kept up with him effortlessly. With Adrien it was different. You weren’t just shuffling your feet, you were dancing! Enjoying it! Feeling it! You had been dancing and not once your mind wandered somewhere else. You were dancing with Adrien Agreste and nothing else mattered. 

Sometime later, after catching the attention of many, you decide to go outside for a rest and cool down. You stopped at the palace’s entrance stairs. The guards on the bottom kept their position still. Nonetheless, you were a sweaty mess, you hoped your make-up hadn’t melted away but you were certain that the lipstick had faded away.

The both of you were engaged in a pleasant conversation and kept smiling at eachother. You were getting to know one another, you asked him about life in Paris, he asked you about life in London.

“I’ve been wondering,” Adrien pauses and looks around, “do you love Félix?" 

You furrow your brows in deep thought. You felt like answering with the truth but you just met him. Nevertheless, you wanted to tell him. So you do. 

To distract yourself from Adrien’s visage, you lean on the stairs’ rail. "I thought I did." 

A moment of silence passed by until Adrien asked what it is that you meant.

"It’s not like I’m confused or anything —I know I like him. It’s just,” you bite your bottom lip, trying to keep it in but it was too late, “there’s this other girl who’s in love with him too. And, honestly, Félix is better off with her.”

Adrien stands up from the stairs indignantly. “You can’t just… give up!” he says, desperately. 

You look at him surprised, for a moment, still not used to the expressive emotions on such a familiar face. 

“It’s not that I’ve given up. It’s that I’m okay with how Félix is. I’m okay with the small amounts of emotions that he shows. I’m okay with his cryptic behaviour. I wouldn’t change any of that —I couldn’t.”

You straighten your dress and stare at anything, just to keep your mind away from the aching in your heart. 

“But Bridgete… she can make a difference in Félix. She makes him a better person, even if it’s a little. She can make him grow and become the one he needs to be." 

You stare into Adrien’s glassy eyes, ready to give your heart the final blow. Adrien stares back at you and his heart churns.

"I’d just bring him down." 

Adrien didn’t realise he was clenching his jaw. He tries to loosen his grip on himself but he just couldn’t.

“I don’t know what to say.” Adrien sighs feeling identified to some extent and sits back down on the stairs. “I mean, I guess I understand you.”

You gaze at the back of Adrien’s head, you notice he relaxes his shoulders after you sit down next to him and it makes you smile slightly. He keeps his gaze on the ground.

“It’s just that I keep trying and trying and I get nowhere. We’ve gotten closer over time, yeah, but I’ve done zero progress.” 

You lean into him to give him some comfort and he places an arm around you in response. It felt so natural to the both of you —it was scary how close you felt. Who knew how intimate a dance could be.

“I feel so hopeless sometimes.” 

You lift your head up from his shoulder and stare into his eyes. His gaze was blankly set on the ground and his eyes were a shade darker outside. It’s funny how only now you notice those little details. Like the reflection of the lampposts’ light shining in his eyes. Like the way he kept clenching and unclenching his fist. Or the way he kept biting harder and harder on his bottom lip…

You can’t recall when Adrien faced you. Nonetheless, Adrien clearly noticed when you kept staring at his lips. He especially noticed your silent ragged breathing and your excessive lip licking…

You started leaning into Adrien. You could feel his hot breath. You were too scared to look into each other’s eyes and before your lips met, Adrien hesitated. The way he had made you feel tonight gave you the courage to just go for it. So you go in to kiss him. You felt confident and hopeful but Adrien stopped you. 

"I’m - I’m sorry. It’s just…” Adrien couldn’t get the right words. “I’m sorry." 

Your heart feels heavy in your chest. That night, you broke your own heart twice. The first time was about your discordance with Félix and the second time… by kissing a guy you just met. How ironic, you fell for the same face twice. 

You stand up abruptly. You really don’t want Adrien to see you red-eyed and puffy. You decide to flee from him and never see him ever again.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. We don’t know each other at all —it’s my fault.” You approach the entrance at the top of the staircase and before you get inside you tell him goodbye without a second glance.

He ponders for a moment. Figuring out what just happened. He thought a few seconds had passed before he ran after you.

“Shit! I’m stupid!”

He wondered how could you be so fast, you wore heels and a long dress. It seems that he had spent more than just a few seconds before he realised that you were his chance to become better. You might’ve not been Félix’s opportunity to become a better man but you sure as hell were Adrien’s. And it only took him one evening (and a few extra minutes) to figure that one out.

He figured you got back into the ballroom and he was right. Just as he was about to apologise to you and tell you how he actually felt after meeting you, he was met with Félix’s hostile glare. You were slouched between his arms and Félix held you tight, so tight he could see veins. Adrien paled in an instant, he darted glances between you and Félix without cease. 

Félix’s jaw was set in a tight knot. His cousin had hurt his best friend and he imagined what had happened. He knew his cousin’s heart was set for Ladybug. He even thought bitterly of her name. Such a boyish and stupid crush. He thought he couldn’t despise his cousin even more but there was Adrien, proving him wrong. 

He could imagine what happened, you always seemed to have a fancy for blonds. Ironically, Félix wondered how you could have fallen for his face but not for him (little did he know). It left a bitter taste on his tongue. While he intently stared at Adrien, he took you away from the ballroom —somewhere only he could get in. And before you left the ballroom altogether, you curiously glanced at where Félix had been looking when he tensed. That was the last time you saw Adrien Agreste in that ballroom.

When the event ended, you locked yourself in your room. Your parents barely noticed your distant behaviour; it happens when they constantly work. 

Sooner than later, the next week arrived and so did Félix. He knocked on your door and let himself in. You were in your pajamas, looking terrible. You haven’t combed your hair since the shower you took on Friday and haven’t brushed your teeth either.

“I have to say, you look worse than I thought you would.”

You glare at him with red and puffy eyes, “I haven’t stopped crying since Thursday, Félix. It’s pathetic… I’m pathetic!”

“Yeah, you are pathetic.”

You rub your eyes. “Yeah, thank you for your support.”

“You better. I’m the one who got you away from there.”

In the beginning you thought that he could brighten your mood but it seemed to be doing quite the contrary. Before he arrived, you managed to calm down and stop crying. Your efforts weren’t paying off because you were at the brink of tearing up again.

“Could you just… not say anything? At all?” You sigh. “I just need you to be here. By my side. Nothing else.”

Félix felt like saying something, actually comforting this time… but the defeated look on your face convinced him otherwise. He lay on your desk your favourite sweets, to which he received a smile from you, and sat down on the end of your bed.

“Fine, just get here,” he looks away, embarrassed, “and cry it out. You won’t be alone this time.”

You put your head on his lap and purse your lips. “I don’t feel like crying anymore.”

He looks into your eyes and groans, “you fucking wanker.” You just giggle at his pink cheeks.

Sometime later you were forced to go to Paris with Félix. Well, you weren’t really forced. Félix’s mother asked you to come and give support to her and her son. They were going to visit the man that stole her sister. Also because it was the day she had disappeared. 

You thought it wouldn’t do any harm to get out of your house, out of London and spend some time in the city of love. Maybe you’ll find a Parisian to get your mind off of the blond who’s been as of late haunting your dreams.

Turns out it was a bad idea. Paris was covered with Adrien’s face. It didn’t matter where you went: there he was, smiling with that stupid cute face and stupid smile. You thought you had gotten over him these past few weeks but all these pictures of him made you fall for Adrien Agreste all over again. 

You’d remember that intense dance you shared and that conversation in which you felt you could trust Adrien with your whole life. If you stared long enough at his picture, your heart would break too. Being in Paris was nothing like you thought it would be. It was so confusing. The scenery was amazing and beautiful but you barely enjoyed it. These feelings of discomfort and contempt were complicated. Sad you felt your heart being broken one too many times; happy you fell for the same guy all over again. You knew you had to get over him but the signs of the universe wouldn’t let you.

So instead of going back to England with the Vanilies, you decided to spend some time alone in this melancholic city.

It was weirdly filled with pigeons in the capital when you finally met the famous Ladybug and Chat Noir. 

It felt unreal to have Ladybug in front of you, talking in a language you don’t understand. You picked up a couple of words from Félix like idiot and stupid. He likes to mutter your idiocy in French.

"Sorry, I don’t speak French.”

Ladybug’s eyes widen, she doesn’t speak English. Even if you didn’t understand what she was yelling at her partner, she was impressive. Let’s face it, if it came to it, you’d be gay for her. As soon as that embarrassing thought crossed your mind, someone landed behind you. 

“You’re in luck, Ladybug, since it seems I’m fluent in English." 

You didn’t bother to look behind you, you were sure it was Chat Noir. Ladybug seemed to be a more impressive sight than anything, except for… that… that… that damn Agreste! You cursed internally, more worried of your internal battle than the one you were physically involved in. It seemed that Adrien Agreste wasn’t going to leave your mind anytime soon.

In a swing, Ladybug left you alone with Chat Noir, not before giving you a reassuring smile. 

Chat Noir cat walked in front of you, a smug smile adorning his face. When he saw your face, he tripped on his own feet and fell, wide-eyed. 

It was wrong to laugh at him, he could’ve been hurt, but you couldn’t help it. A hero trying to show off but failing? That’s hilarious. 

You dismissed Chat Noir’s incredulous look of embarrassment at a failed athletics check. In reality, he was freaking out. Even still, his heart bubbled at your laughter. It was just like the way you laughed with him in Buckingham Palace, the only difference was you weren’t in his arms. 

Your laughter died down when you noticed he wasn’t standing up. With tears in your eyes, you offer your hand to help him up. "I apologise for laughing, I haven’t had a good laugh in a long time." 

He took your hand in his and didn’t want to let go when he got to his feet. He had to let go. 

"Don’t worry about it.” He knew he was taking too long on following the instructions Ladybug gave him. His baton was ringing, Ladybug was calling. He didn’t pick up even though he knew he should do what’s right for Paris’ safety. Do what’s right for the people —not him. It hurt internally to let you go again. “Look, I have to get back to the battle, so I’m gonna take you somewhere safe. Please, be careful.”

Chat Noir finished the battle as soon as possible, skipped his usual fistbump with Ladybug and got back to you. But when he returned to the spot he left you, you weren’t there anymore. 

His heart sank into his stomach. 

Until now, it hadn’t occurred to him why you were here. Why were you even in Paris? By any chance, were you looking for him? He doubted that. Why would you look for him? If anything, he should be looking for you!

The pit in Chat Noir’s stomach grew heavier, his heart beat so loud he hardly heard his own thoughts. What was he even feeling? The only thing that felt right was you. You in his arms, laughing at those possé’d jerks. Shit! He must find you.

The only thing he could think of being of use was Félix. He’d ask for your number and call you and—. No, it would be dumb. Félix wouldn’t even give Adrien your number. Especially not after that look he received in the palace. He could still try… He’d beg for it if he had to.

“Ugh, how do I even ask him?” 

Chat Noir pondered various outcomes —none of them seemed to go well— all the way to his house. In a matter of seconds, Adrien freed himself from the suit and stared at Félix’s contact number.

“What are you doing?” 

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago, Plagg.”

“You don’t seem to be doing anything.”

Plagg caught on his bullshit. Thing is, Adrien was too scared to push the call button. He hasn’t even thought of a proper way of asking your number or even greeting Félix. So lost in thought… 

“I guess you found out, hah?” Félix answered. 

It seems that Plagg accidentally pressed the call button. Adrien was at a loss for words. He still doesn’t know what to tell Félix.

“Hello? Can you even hear me?” Apparently, Adrien took too long to think of something to say.

“I — uh — yeah.”

“‘Yeah’, what? That you found out or that you can hear me?”

“Both.”

“Fine, what do you need?” Félix inquired, clearly annoyed.

“Phone.”

“Phone?”

“Number.”

“Number?”

“Her phone number.”

“Her phone number?”

“Yeah, her phone number.”

“Her phone number.”

“Right.”

Silence.

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”

Adrien paced even faster around his room.

“Wait! No! I need you to give me her phone number.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I asked.”

“Right. You’re not getting it.”

“Because I like her.”

“You like her.”

“Yeah.”

“You son of a—. You made her cry!”

“I went after her!”

“You were too late!”

“Please.”

The line suddenly died. Félix hung up. Adrien was sure this was the only way so he readied himself to call again but he was interrupted by a message.

Félix

Contact: thy dumbass

Félix

if she comes back more broken than when she left i will kill you

Félix didn’t want to let you go, he didn’t want you to be with Adrien. Yet, he had to give you a chance to be happy and maybe, he’d hope, his cousin fucked up. Maybe you could give him a chance but it seems that he waited way too long.

Now that Adrien had your phone number he didn’t know what to do with it. He could call you… and then what? He could send you a text, explaining himself. Yeah, that seemed right. It was the longest text message he has ever written. He reread it nine times before erasing all of it before he could hit send. 

Maybe he isn’t worthy of you. After all, he should’ve been the one that found you instead of the other way around. He should’ve gone after you.

It was true that he couldn’t stop thinking about you, he couldn’t keep you a secret so he talked to the person he trusts with his life. Ladybug had been understanding, she even talked about her own love life. She had never been willing to talk about it. The team had reached a milestone in trust. Whenever they had doubts, they’d talk to each other and point out things that the other didn’t realise. However, Ladybug had been most successful, she listened to Chat Noir’s suggestions whereas Chat didn’t follow through. Maybe this one time he will.

“I think you need to tell her to meet somewhere. Have some tea or something. Isn’t that what british people do the most?”

“This is so embarrassing, Ladybug. What do I tell her? ‘Hey, let’s meet and have tea!’ That’s so dull.”

“You say exactly that!”

“What? No way.”

“If I were right there I’d take your phone and text her myself. Now don’t be a chicken, I’m getting tired of you weeping.”

Adrien squeaks when he sends that simple message to an empty chat waiting to be filled. 

“Did she answer!?”

“No! I just sent the message! How—Oh, God! She replied!”

“What did she say!?”

“‘Who is this?’ uh.”

“Chat, you idiot! Tell her it’s you!”

“Fuck, I’m scared.”

“Come on!”

“Okay, okay, I said it. She read it — she’s not replying. Wait, wait, she’s typing!” Adrien gripped his phone so tight his knuckles were white. “She said ‘okay’.”

“Go on, then! Tell her when you can meet and where! I’m hanging up now, I’m actually with some friends. Good luck, Chat.”

“Thanks Bugaboo.”

As soon as he hung up he texted you when you were free.

(Y/N): whenever, really, all I’ve been doing is wandering around 

Adrien: do you have time now? I’m free until my fencing class

(Y/N): uh, yeah, where do you want to meet? Don’t make it complicated I don’t know this place much

Adrien: where are you now?

(Y/N): at a cafe by the eiffel tower, but I’d like to rest at the hotel first, my feet hurt

Adrien: Le Grand Paris?

(Y/N): yep

Adrien: I’ll pick you up after my fencing class, should give you enough time to rest

(Y/N): ok

Adrien: looking forward to see you again

The texting ends there. Adrien can’t wait to get to fencing class and get over it. You, on the other hand, pay for your tea and race to the hotel. What did that heart mean..? You were dying to get to your hotel room and take a long hot shower, you were basically crawling up the walls of the elevator. 

A few hours later you get a message from Adrien that he’s on his way. Honestly, you were ready an hour ago, you had never been so nervous to meet someone. You slowly made your way down to the entrance. You were going to make him wait but the moment you step outside you see a car pulling up.

Adrien: I’m here

He steps outside and spots you immediately. Fuck, you looked beautiful. He walked up to you even though he wanted to run and spin you around in his arms and kiss you all over. 

It was awkward seeing one another after everything but when you both caved for a hug. It felt so right. Your hearts pounded. His hair was still slightly wet, probably from the shower he just took. He smelled like citrus too. 

Adrien broke the hug and stared deep in your eyes and before he could stop it, he was leaning in for a kiss. Lips barely touching, he hesitates but you close the gap. It was much better than the hug. His lips were soft and plump. It wasn’t your best kiss but the feelings you got from him were amazing. Together, you could teach him to kiss the way you want to him which means he’s gonna have to practice a lot of kisses with you.

“Sorry it took this long.”

“The wait was worth it.” 

He smiles at you and you kiss again.

[schrijverr]

'Till Death Do Us Part

Part 9 out of 13

When Alex has to bring Philip to work, he and Thomas discover that they both have something in common: they lost their love. They form an unexpected bond and connection about this that grows into something more.

A medium burn with parental feelings about Philip and flowers.

On AO3.

Ships: Jamilton

Warnings: very brief death mention

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 9: Ambrosia Means ‘Love Returned’

Alex woke up to Philip shaking him, he mumbled something and turned over in an attempt to get away from the waking hands. He hid against the warmth at his other side, faintly aware that the heat in question was Thomas.

“Papa,” a little voice called out.

“Wha?” he groaned groggily.

From the other side came a chuckle, then Thomas rich early morning voice came: “Hey, Pip, maybe let your Papa sleep a bit more. What do you need?”

“I’m hungry,” there was a pout in Phillips voice and Alex knew he would have to get up to feed his kid. He couldn't just ignore him if he was hungry, bored was another story, but hungry…

“Then I’ll make you some pancakes, kiddo,” Thomas voice was a savior.

“Really?” Philip asked, Alex usually didn’t make pancakes and they were a treat that Philip treasured.

“Yeah, really, I’ll be there in a sec,” Thomas promised and Alex heard Philip leave the room. He shifted and an arm came to drape over him then a kiss on his forehead. He snuggled closer to Thomas, who chuckled: “I have to go, you just sleep a bit more, okay?”

“Y’re a h’ro,” Alex mumbled, faintly hearing more laughter as he drifted away again along with the sounds of someone getting dressed.

When he awoke again, it was to Thomas gently shaking him and soft saying: “Hey, darlin’, I’m heading to Jemmy now, if you wanna get to Herc’s in time, you might need to consider getting up now.”

He blinked heavily, but opened his eyes, seeing Thomas’s crinkled eyes. He smiled back and sleepily said: “I’m up, I’m up.”

“I can see that,” Thomas grinned, pecking his nose then his lips, before getting up, “Have a good weekend and brush your teeth.”

Alex gave him a lazy thumbs up, before sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Slowly he made his way through his morning routine, happy to see Philip already dressed and well fed with a few left over pancakes for himself.

As he drank his second cup of coffee he spotted the flowers. A warmth flood through his body and he fished his phone out of is pocket to look up their meaning.

‘Declaration of love’

The world paused, but the words stayed unchanged. No matter how much he checked again, they remained bold and true.

Had Thomas not realized the relevance of the flowers? He’d said he’d seen them on his way back home, but he would have checked, just to be sure.

Right?

Neither of them had spoken those word out loud. Alex certainly felt them, but God, he was so scared of messing up on this first good thing since John’s death. He didn’t want to be the one to drive Thomas away by saying it first, but-

But what if Thomas felt the same?

What if this was his confession?

Thomas of all people understood why they were both so scared to say that they hadn’t, evenafter practically moving in together and caring for Philip together. Thomashad done that with only love and care.

Zero complaints.

Alex knew there was love in those actions. Love they both had allowed to be left unsaid, because saying it meant that it could be ripped away.

Maybe Thomas was ready to tell him, but didn’t want to give him that moment of pressure or face it if Alex wasn’t at that point. Maybe this was a tentative push to take a step both were ready for, while also being woefully unprepared.

God, what was he going to do?

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Philip who tugged on his sleeve and said: “Papa, you said we were leaving when the clock was at 11:15, it’s 11:10 now.”

“Ah, yeah, yeah,” he blinked and chugged his coffee, deciding that he would just ask Herc later today or in the evening when Philip was asleep.

When they got to Herc’s apartment he gathered Philip up in his arms and threw him in the air, catching him again and giving Alex a minor heart attack even though he had seen this go right many times before.

“How is my favorite nephew doing?” Herc asked Philip with a grin, “You doing okay at school, little man?”

“Uncle Herc!” Philip cheered, hugging Hercules tightly, before telling him that he was being very smart in his class and how he had very elaborated stories with his friends.

“That’s great, dude,” Herc smiled as he put him down, then he pulled Alex into a hug and asked: “And how have you been, man? Life treating you right? Thomas too?”

“Yeah he has, Herc,” Alex smiled into the other’s shoulder, relaxation washing over him in familiar and comforting arms. God, Herc gave the best hugs.

“Good to hear, good to hear,” Hercules nodded as he let them into the apartment.

Philip was delighted to visit his Uncle Herc again after he hadn’t been able to pick him up from school for a while due to the busy days. He spend most of his time breathlessly recalling everything his Uncle had missed, before pulling him into playing a story of his own making, which Herc in turn roped Alex in too.

It was a good day and Alex’s cheeks hurt from smiling by the time Herc was making them burgers for dinner.

“Really, what have you been up these past few days?” Alex asked, beer in hand and leaning against the counter while Philip busied himself with Lego's Herc had at his house for him.

“Been great, man,” Herc replied, “Taking advantage of the bit of freedom to play some games, you know. I’ve been helping out at the youth center too.”

“That’s so cool,” Alex nodded, “You seem happy.”

“I am, ‘Lexi, I am,” Herc agreed, “Never thought I’d make it this far, but look at me now.”

“I’m proud of you, Herc,” Alex told him, “You deserve all of this so much.”

“Come on, dude, no need to make me cry in my burgers,” Herc said in teasingly, but Alex felt the hint of truth in there, so he dropped it.

It was only after Herc – special request from Philip, who bluntly informed Alex that Herc had the coolest stories – had tucked Philip into the mattress on Herc’s floor that Alex brought up the flowers to him.

“So, what do you think?” he finished recounting his analysis of the flowers.

“I think that you’re overthinking it and you just need to go with your gut,” Herc told him.

“Yeah, but what if my gut is wrong?” Alex argued, “What if he really just saw them and thought it would be nice and now I’m making a mistake by telling him how I feel.”

“You can’t really go wrong by telling him how you feel, ‘Lex.”

“Yes, it can,” Alex protested, “Maybe he doesn’t feel the same or it’s too soon and everything will fall apart around me, I can’t have that. I’m not the one ruining it.”

“And maybe you ruin it by not engaging in it, Alexander. You can’t predict every outcome, but honesty is the best road. If he isn’t in this long haul, you better find out now, rather than later when both you and Pip are in too deep.”

Alex rubbed his forehead and groaned: “This is too fucking hard. I’m not made for this. Me and John worked. With him it was easy, I can’t do this. I can’t. I need to go.”

“No, you don’t.”

“But-”

“Alexander, listen to me and listen close, okay?”

Herc look at him intently and Alex nodded.

“Every since this between you and Thomas started you’ve been happier again. We all see it, okay. Even Burr commented on it when I was last picking up Pip after he played with Theo. If even Burr is willing to admit there is something, then there is something, okay?”

“I mean, I guess,” Alex knew he was right.

“You’re not giving this up just because you’re having a hard time with your emotions. And you don’t get to say that between you and John everything was always sunshine and rainbows, okay. I know you love him and that you remember the good stuff the most – and I want you too – but I had both of you on my couch plenty of times.”

“I know that, Herc, but with John I know how it ended. It had a happy ending – well, as happy as someone dying can be – with Thomas it’s just unknown. I don’t like not knowing things.”

“And that I know, ‘Lex,” Herc agreed, “But it’s pretty clear you both love each other, so saying it can only make you stronger. I promise you, it will be fine.”

“But what if it doesn’t?”

Herc took a deep breath and fought the urge to slap Alex and call him stupid. He knew what this all meant to him, but by God, was this just the height of dumbassery.

“You said it yourself that Thomas wouldn’t just buy the flowers without checking their meaning, he knows what he gave you,” Herc said, “You also know he knows you, he’ll know you will check too. If you don’t engage, he will think you don’t love him. And you do love him, right?”

“Yeah, I do, but-”

“Alex, my man, my dude, I am not sitting here and watching you get into some soap opera, romcom miscommunication plot line. I’m just not. I love you with my whole heart, but I am not watching that plot unfold,” and with that Herc had reached his stupid limit.

At Hercules’ outburst Alex paused and thought it over without mentally wantingto refute all of Herc’s points so that he wouldn’t have to face this.

“I’m stupid, you’re right,” he groaned, “Fuck, you’re right.”

“Thank you.”

“How will I tell him though?” Alex immediately found a new problem to stress about, making Herc roll his eyes fondly.

“Maybe just say: ‘Hey, love you’, like a normal person,” Herc shrugged, knowing Alex wouldn’t take his suggestion.

“No, I need to tell him he was a dick about telling me with flowers, because it made me stress about it all,” Alex shook his head, then his eyes lit up, “I’m gonna give him flowers too, put the ball back in his court. Ha, he should know who he’s playing against.”

“Drama queen, it’s not a game, you idiot.”

“Potey-to, potah-to,” Alex shrugged, waving his hand vaguely, “I’ll acknowledge the flowers he gave me, not say it outright, but imply it and based off his reaction words may or may not be spoken.”

“God, you’re an idiot,” Herc face palmed.

“But I am a genius idiot and you will put respect to that, Herc,” Alex grinned, with a plan in mind he could allow himself to relax again.

“Whatever, man,” Herc just told him, before pulling out a deck of cards, “Let’s just play some cards, alright? I still need you to tell me how you think frat boy khaki cargo shorts were okay.”

“They have pockets!”

“Not a good excuse,” he handed Alex the cars, “You deal.”

Alex shuffled and dealt the cards, letting Thomas drift out of his mind and focused on spending time with Herc.

The next day passed in quite a similar fashion and before Alex knew it he was driving to work on Monday morning with his own bouquet in the passenger seat.

He was feeling a bit jittery, but mostly excited to see Thomas again, it was crazy how quickly he’d gotten used to seeing him every day and how much he missed him in the past weekend. He quickly parked his car and walked into the building, happily noting that Thomas was already there.

Since he had to bring Philip to school from Herc’s house– the boy had pleaded and he hadn’t been able to say no – he was slightly later than normal, but this worked in his favor.

Walking down the hall, he took a deep breath in front of Thomas’s office, before throwing the door open and stating: “You cannot confess that to me in flower language and expect me to handle that in any way shape or form.”

Thomas startled loudly and clutched his chest as he processed the words and sight in front of him. Alex was holding out a bouquet of flowersthat Thomas recognized all too well, since he had studied flowers relating to love to form his own confession: ambrosia and moss rosebud.

He relaxed at the sight.

“I never pegged you to be the type to use someone’s own tricks against them, darling,” he smirked, leaning back in his chair.

He watched as Alex relaxed too and grinned: “Well, then you’ve underestimated how much of a petty bitch I can be, Jefferson.”

At that Thomas snorted and sighed: “Sometimes I wonder why I love you.”

It was the first time the words had been spoken out loud and both smiled instantly at them, even if they were meant to be a tease.

The atmosphere shifted and Alex put down the flowers before pulling Thomas in a hug and pecking his lips as he whispered against them: “Love you too.”

After a moment of quiet Alex whispered: “I missed you this weekend.”

“Missed you too.”

“Wanna come over tonight? Me and Pip are gonna make pasta.”

“I’d love that,” Thomas told the top of Alex’s head, which he was cradling gently. He just held Alex against him, not yet willing to let him go.

They just stood there for a long moment, until there was a knock on the door and both jumped apart, while Thomas called out: “Come in.”

“There you are,” the door opened to reveal Washington, who somehow managed to look both not amused at all, while at the same time very amused at their position.

“Sir,” Alex greeted, attempting casual. They weren’t doing anything improper, but he still felt like he should be guilty.

“You two were late for the meeting,” Washington informed them with a grin, “I think I can vouch for you, but I do need to be sure that we don’t have to have a conversation about office romance protocol.”

“Sir,” Alex squeaked.

While Thomas protested, mortified: “We weren’t-”

“I joke, I joke,” Washington assured them, “Come on, I have some documents you can pretend to carry, no one will ask. I know you two well enough to feel safe leaving you by yourself in a room at work,” there was a slight warning there and both nodded quickly.

As they walked behind Washington, Thomas hissed: “That was the most awkward thing ever and I’m blaming you.”

“Me? Why me? You were the one doing the hugging.”

“And you were the one with the flowers.”

“You started it.”

“I didn’t do it at work.”

“Oh please, you would have shit your pants if I hadn’t said anything all day.”

“True. Love you.”

There was a pause, then a sigh: “Love you too.”

They entered the meeting with happy matching grins and a lot of paperwork. It was crazy how they had confessed their love moments before and they were now yelling at each other about whether or not they should start a branch in France.

Alex grinned and looked Thomas straight in the eyes as he refuted his best argument with a bit of company policy he had dug up from God knows where. He saw Thomas scowl, before rolling his eyes and smirking back.

As Thomas walked by on his way out, he stopped by to say: “You’re a fucking scoundrel and I will refute you next time, dick.”

“Love to see you try, Tommy,” Alex replied, “Wanna get lunch?”

“Hell yeah, I do.”

They ate lunch together, but after that the day moved pretty quickly and when Thomas got home to Alex and Philip in the kitchen with Alex attempting to teach Philip to make pasta, he hadn’t seen him all day.

Thomas stopped in the doorway and watched the two for a while. Alex was standing behind Philip at the counter, guiding his hand with a knife as they cut a few tomatoes.

After a few moments of watching, Alex looked up and spotted him. He raised a brow: “How long have you been lurking there, creeper?”

“Long enough to fully appreciate the view,” he smiled back.

“Uncle Thomas!” Philip called out, “Papa is teaching me how to cook!”

“I can see that, kiddo. Next time I have to cook, I know who to call to do it for me,” Thomas told him.

Philip looked incredibly proud of himself as he nodded: “I will be the best cook.”

“Well, Mr. Master Chef, don’t you think you need to watch where you put the knife?” Alex intercepted the little hand that was about to start waving the big knife around.

“Ah, yes, Papa,” Philip said apologetically.

“No problem, buddy, just be careful around the sharp objects,” Alex ruffled his hair.

In that time, Thomas had walked over and kissed both on their forehead. He told Alex: “Hey, your afternoon okay?”

“Yeah, it’s been, you know, emails and stuff.”

“God, do I know,” Thomas grimaced in sympathy, “How ‘bout you, Pip?”

“It was good, we did crafts today,” Philip informed him.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we had lots of glitter. Me and Theo made a glitter-man together,” Philip said excitedly, “We named him George and he came to life and started to chase us and I got shot, but it was okay because Theo brought me back to life with a paper confetti spell.”

“Oh wow,” Thomas said, feeling bad for Ms. Dolley, who likely had been the one to clean that up.

After dinner Philip played a bit more until bed time, not that Philip really wanted to go to bed when Alex announced it. “But Papa, I still need to charge the castle,” he pouted.

“The castle will still be there in the morning, Pip,” Alex told him, “Besides, castle sieges are best done in the morning, when then troops are well rested and the guards tired.”

Philip looked between his toys and his Papa, then protested: “But all the troops are already in place, calling it off would give away their position.”

Alex sighed and rubbed his brow. He hated having to be stern to Pip, but he had already been so lenient the weekend at Herc’s, so he really couldn't let him get away with it if he wanted to have a bit of credibility later.

“That sucks, buddy. I know you wanna keep playing, but you need to go to sleep,” he squatted next to Pip, “You have school tomorrow and it’s already late. There are a few rules and I made them with your well being in mind, so I’m sorry, but it’s bedtime now.”

It looked as if Philip was on the fence and just needed a small push, so Thomas interjected: “We can read another chapter of the Ranger Apprentice.”

At that Philip lit up and he started to put his toys away, while Alex mouthed to Thomas: “Thank you.”

Thomas got off the couch and asked: “Do you want me to tuck him in?”

“Would you do that?” Alex asked, “Sorry, the whole weekend was busy, fun but busy, and today Adams came by my office and I’m just tired.”

“Hey, no problem, love you.”

“Love you too.”

Both were so excited about saying it and Thomas couldn't help but kiss Alex, before turning to Philip and clapping his hands: “Okay, let’s get this show on the road, wanna race to the bathroom?” and with that they were off while Alex collapsed on the couch.

After an hour Thomas came back and plopped down next to Alex and said: “Your child is just as manipulative as you.”

“What did he get you to do?” Alex asked with an amused look.

“We read two chapter, because it ended on a cliffhanger and he knows I’m invested too and he has pleading eyes and I feel like he’s aware of it,” Thomas pouted.

Alex laughed and draped himself over Thomas, saying: “I will claim no responsibility for that, he has Johns eyes.” “God, then I get why you got with him,” Thomas informed him, making Alex giggle, then Thomas added, “But he definitely has your people reading skills and he knows when to use them.”

“Yeah probably,” Alex agreed, sounding proud.

“He’s also going to use that against you, you realize that, right?” Thomas asked him, when he heard the tone.

“Oh, he already does,” Alex grinned, “I just have to learn to tell him no or hope he will listen to reason and agree with me.”

“Oh my God,” Thomas snorted.

“You know you love me,” Alex singsonged.

“Sadly.”

“Rude.”

They fell quiet for a moment, then Thomas asked: “Wanna talk about Adams coming by your office, you didn’t say before, but you sounded stressed.”

“Nah, he was just being a dick, the usual,” Alex shrugged.

“I’m gonna punch him.”

“Please don’t, I’ve had enough awkward conversations with Washington about you for the rest of my life.”

“Enough?” Thomas sounded curious, “Was one enough?”

Alex blushed: “I’ve had two more.”

“Really?” there was an unnecessary amount of glee in Thomas’s voice in Alex’s opinion.

“Yeah, when I came over to you the first time, he was like ‘You and Thomas!?!?’ with a lot of suggestiveness and I had to be ‘oh, no sir, not like that,’ but then a while later it was like that and he did the eyebrow thing and said ‘I thought it wasn’t like that?’ and then I had to come back on my word. So yeah, awkward. I think he even gave me a shovel talk, but for both of us.”

Thomas laughed at him and Alex pouted: “You’re being a meanie.”

“Sorry, darlin’, still love you.”

“Yeah, love you too,” Alex said, it was quiet for a beat, then Alex asked: “What made you decide on now?”

“What?”

“I mean, why did you get the flowers now? Was there a reason?”

Thomas paused and thought about it, then said: “Uhm, picking up Philip from school, actually. The- the teacher referred to me as his parent and-”

“Oh, God, I’m sorry, I didn’t tell her that, if you’re uncomf-”

“Alex, how many times do I have to say that I don’t mind taking care of Pip. I enjoy hanging out with him, he’s a good kid and I don’t mind,” Thomas assured him.

“But-”

“No, buts,” he said sternly, “As I was going to say, after that I realized how much you two had made yourself at home in my heart and I didn’t really wanna loose that because I was too scared to tell you how much I love you.”

It was quiet for a moment and Thomas waited anxiously for Alex’s reply to his confession. Then softly Alex said: “Well, I’m glad you did.”

Relief washed over Thomas and he smiled, pulling Alex against his chest to that he could kiss him on the forehead. He replied: “Yeah, me too,” then he was reminded of his mostrecent call with his mother, which had increased after his birthday, and he added: “I did have another motivethough.”

Alex quirked a brow: “Really? Do enlighten me.”

“Well, my Ma has been nagging me a bit, she does it lovingly and embarrassingly,” Thomas said, “Since she has issued an invitation to you and Philip to come to Monticello with me over the summer and I promised her I’d ask you, but I didn’t.”

“So, telling me you loved me was your response?” Alex asked, curiously while also amused.

“I mean, based on your reaction to said declaration, it would be less scary to ask you to come,” Thomas shrugged.

“You- you want us to come?” Alex sounded insecure.

“Of course I’d want that, I just didn’t know if you would and I didn’t want to force you to come if you didn’t. My family can themselvesand there’s a fat chance at least one of my sisters, probably Mary,will be there and you’ll be interrogated by Ma, which is not only scary, but also embarrassing. Well, mostly for me, the embarrassment that is,” Thomas rambled.

“I’d love to go and I’m sure Pip would too,” Alex cut him off.

“You- you’re sure?” Thomas double checked.

“Yeah, I want to see baby pictures of you and hear embarrassing stories, that sounds great,” Alex grinned.

Thomas pushed him lightly: “Shut up. Ma is going to give you way too much food, I hope your know that.”

Alex’s eyes shone and he said: “Actually, I don’t mind, so ha, suck it.”

“Idiot,” Thomas told him fondly.

“It’s your idiot, idiot,” Alex grinned back.

After a beat Thomas said: “If you don’t wanna go or back you’ll tell me, right?”

“I will, promise,” Alex promised, “Don’t stress about it, I’ve heard you wax too much poetry about the Virginian countryside not to be curious.”

“Only if you’re sue.”

“I’ll ask Pip tomorrow, if he’s in, you can tell your mom.”

“Your not nervous at all?”

“If you want me to say no, you can.”

“No, no, no, I want you to come, but usually people find meeting parents a big deal and you are being very chill about it.”

“Ah, well, I guess it can never be as bad as when I met John’s parents, which was subsequently also the last time I eversaw them, and from what you told me about your mom, she sounds like a lovely lady and I think we can get along.”

“What happened when you met John’s parents? It sounds like there’s a story there.”

“Oef, that is a story and a half. Remember why they’re not in Pip’s life anymore?”

“Homophobic, transphobic assholes,” Thomas recalled, before going: “Ahh, I see.”

“Yeah, let’s just say that they didn’t appreciate me being the Alex John had told them about,” Alex said, “They hadn’t picked up on the gender neutral language and had decided that Alex could be a girl’s name, so that was a jikes.”

“I can’t even imagine.”

“Oh, no you can’t, my meeting them lasted twenty minutes, then me and John got a hotel,” Alex recounted, “We stayed in town just long enough for me to meet a few of his cool siblings before we left. Haven’t seen them since. It had been the last straw for John, so I respect that. I don’t even know if they’re aware of Philip’s existence.”

“Wow, that- that sure is something.”

Alex laughed at Thomas’s response: “Yeah, it is. Not really my go to party story, I gotta say,” Thomas snorted and Alex send him a pleading smile andsaid, “So, Designated Survivor? I wanna know what happens.”

Thomas looked and said: “And you say he got it all from John. But sure, I’m curious too.”

“Fuck yeah,” Alex went to set it up, “And don’t bash tested methods.”

“Dork.”

“Love you too.”

The next morning Alex was sipping coffee still in his pajamas while Philip ate his breakfast. Thomas came in, clothed for the day and freshly showered. He kissed Alex and said: “Love you, sleep well?”

“Hmm, yeah, love you too,” Alex hummed back, “You?”

“Yeah, good,” Thomas was a bit more awake, but not overly so, “How ‘bout you, kiddo? Have a good night?”

Philip studied the two of them, before he nodded: “I fought a dinosaur, but then he was nice and we were friends and explored, before we turned into eagles and became kings of a floating castle.”

“How nice.”

With Thomas there, Alex left Philip to shower and dress himself. It was relaxing how he could now do that after waking Philip up instead of having to do it way too early in the morning every day. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Philip on his own, but just to be sure.

When he came back it was rushing out the door. Thomas off to work while Alex drove Philip to school.

While they were in the car, Philip asked: “You said you love each other yesterday and this morning.”

“Astute observation,” Alex nodded, then glanced at Pip in the rear view mirror, “Means, well spotted,” he clarified, “Me and Thomas do love each other, we just started saying it now.”

“Why now?”

“Because it was all very new and now we both felt comfortable with it.”

“Didn’t you love each other before that?”

“We did, but sometimes we don’t say it yet,” Alex tried to think of an example, “Uhm, you know when you and Theo became friends, did you immediately say you were best friends?”

Philip thought about that, then shook his head: “No.”

“And why was that?”

“Because I didn’t know her long enough to be her best friend, but one day I felt I was and she was too and now were bestest friends.”

“Well, this was kind of like that for me and Thomas with saying ‘I love you,’” Alex explained.

“So you and Uncle Thomas are best friends?”

“A bit more than that buddy, think more like Auntie Eliza and Auntie Maria, but then a bit newer.” Alex said and Philip hummed thoughtfully then nodded in understanding.

They drove in silence for a bit more, then Alex said: “There was actually something I wanted to ask you, is that okay?”

“Yes, what is it, Papa?” Philip looked at him curiously.

“Well, Thomas invited us to come to Monticello in the summer break, would you like that?”

“What’s Mothello?”

“Monticello,” Alex corrected, “And it’s where he grew up, so we’ll be staying with his mother and maybe a few of his siblings. It might be more people you don’t know than you’re used to, so if you think it’s too scary we don’t have to go, alright. Just be honest with me.”

“Is his mom kind of like my grandma? Like Grandma Martha?” Philip asked.

Alex really hoped he wasn’t overstepping too much, when he answered: “In a way, I guess so, buddy,” it wasn’t as if the Schuyler parents hadn’t taken a liking to him as well. If it got too far he could fall back on that example, not pushing Thomas to be a dad.

Though, fuck ifwouldn’t thatbe amazing.

Philip seemed satisfied with his answer, because he said: “I wanna go.”

“Alright, buddy,” Alex replied, “If you’re sure, but if you want to think about it more, now is the time to say so, because otherwise I’ll tell Thomas okay and then it’ll be harder to say no later.”

“I’m sure,” Philip said with conviction, so Alex believed him.

“Then that’s a plan,” Alex smiled, before parking in front of the school and getting out to unbuckle Pip and let him go.

Once Philip was ready to go, Alex asked: “Am I getting a kiss?”

Philip gave him a kiss and Alex gave one back, before wishing Philip a good day and waving him off, making sure to keep watching until he had reached the doors of the school safely. On his way to them he saw him meet up with Theodosia and he smiled as the two kids greeted each other.

A quick scan and he saw Burr himself, he waved and the other nodded back politely, before both got in their cars and drove to work.

Burr was more an acquaintance than a friend, but it was funny how they kept running into each other. First in the army, then at college, before seeing each other at work (Burr worked in Public Relations) and finally running into each other at their kid’s school.

At work they rode the lift together, Burr getting off first, with surprisingly little fighting between them, though that was mostly due to Burr’s stoic politeness than Alex’s lack of trying.

He walked into the office and to the break room where Thomas handed him a cup of coffee as he said: “You need to stop drinking that much coffee.”

“And I love you too,” Alex loved this new way of ending a discussion, “Philip is in, by the way. He seemed excited about it.”

“That’s good to hear, I’ll call Ma tonight.”

“Cool, what are you doing today?”

“Probably not much, why?”

“Oh, just wondered if you were up for dinner at my place?” Alex asked nonchalantly.

He had been doing this more and more, Thomas noticed. At first he hadn’t paid it much mind, because Alex usually had a good reason and it wasn’t until he had spend a full week there once that he had noticed it.

Thomas was more at Alex’s place than his own.

Not that he minded, he thought it was sweet and if Alex was willing to take the lead there, he would gladly take it. He smiled: “Sure, we ended on a cliffhanger.”

“Which we?” Alex teased, “You and Pip with Ranger’s Apprenticeor us with Designated Survivor?”

“Would both be an acceptable answer?”

“Dork,” Alex said, before walking away to his office.

“That’s your dork, Mister,” Thomas called after him.

As he turned into the hall, he made a pirouette type movement, in which he blew Thomas a kiss and replied: “I know, don’t forget to call your mom.”

From the chair Angelica broke her silence: “God, you two are sickeningly sweet.”

“Jealousy isn’t a good look, Angie,” Thomas stuck out his tongue.

Angie stuck hers out in retaliation, before saying: “We need to catch up soon, okay? I’m thinking lunch and I want details, but now I have work to do. And so do you, don’t think I’ve forgotten that you still need to send me those files.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Thomas saluted and quickly sped off, not wanting to face Angelica’s wrath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

I am incapable of writing a miscommunication plot lines, just because I get too much second hand embarrassment from it. So, I shall acknowledge what could have happened and not do it, bc I will hurt my own feelings, lmao

Btw: “pirouette type movement” → think ‘water tribe’ from ATLA

The bouquet was ambrosia and moss rosebud, because ambrosia alone is boring, since it doesn’t have flowers. Moss rosebud means confession of love.

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 2

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - Ghost Encounter

Before that incident occurred, Lin Yan didn't believe that there were ghosts in the world. He studied history during his undergrad and continued straight into doing his master's in archaeology. When he was on an expedition with his professor, he picked up the bones of a dead body and plucked a jade cicada from the mouth of a mummified body. Ghost stories were always something joked about in their dormitories. If something happened to people after they died, then the world would know about it. For example, if someone picked up the imperial blue bowl of the emperor, the old man would notice and stand up, shouting: "That's mine!" How interesting.

The dead should just let the dust from the past settle and stay quiet.

Lin Yan had just finished dinner when things changed. He didn't live in the school dormitories. He had moved into the apartment his parents had set aside for him when he got married because of the fights his old roommates in the dorms had with their in-laws on the phone. This apartment was much closer to the school, and he had been living alone since then. He cooks alone, plays games alone, and travels halfway across the city to visit his parents on the weekends. Lin Yan is one of the tens of thousands of small researchers in dozens of colleges and universities in this city. If he makes great accomplishments, his future will be bright, but if he's average, then he will be lost in the crowd.

That day, he made himself Fried Sauce Noodles. Once the minced meat was boiled, it was mixed into the sweet stir-fry noodle sauce. The noodles were drained out of the pan, topped with the sauce, and it was delicious. Lin Yan took the bowl and sat in front of the computer, watching "My Old Memories of Old Beijing" and eating the noodles.

The air was humid and stuffy in the early summer weather. Suddenly, halfway through the movie, a clap of thunder rang out outside. It didn't take long for large raindrops to pour down, and the thin lines of water on the window glass became a curtain of rain, pattering against the windows.

Lin Yan was busy turning off the video. Before his computer had fully shut off, a bolt of lightning flashed across the night sky. With a snap, the computer went black.

Afraid that something might happen, Lin Yan complained and unplugged the computer from the socket. He used a desktop computer specially equipped for 3D restoration renderings of cultural relics. As soon as the power came back after the thunderstorm had passed, he would have to submit a repair request.

Tomorrow, he'd have to trouble Yin Zhou to repair the machine again.

Suddenly, a strange feeling washed over him.

Cold, inexplicably cold, sending a shiver up his spine.

He didn't know when the temperature of the room started to drop. He didn't even notice it while he was watching the movie. Now it feels like he was inside an ice cave. The cold is coming out from all corners and enveloping his body. The sweat on his body turning cold, his t-shirt sticking to his back.

Lin Yan vigorously wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans, thinking about how the weather must be cooling down because of the rain, and decided to get up to find a long-sleeved shirt. Before he could get up, his eyes glanced at the computer screen and nervously sat back down.

With the lights on in the room, the situation in the room was clearly reflected on the dark computer screen. In front of the screen was Lin Yan's face, and behind him was the window, which opened wide inward, and the curtains were swept around by the wind. It was the "person" standing in front of the curtain that made Lin Yan frozen from head to toe.

That's not it; it was more like the shape of a person - a person wearing a strange hat.

Lin Yan stared blankly at the things on the screen, a sense of panic slowly creeping up his spine.

It must have been a clothes hanger that he forgot to move, there's no need to jump to conclusions. Lin Yan pulled at the corner of his clothes, took a deep breath, and swung his head around.

Nothing was there. Everything in the house looked normal. The only difference was that the raindrops were coming even larger, the rainwater twisting into small streams on the glass and flowing down.

His suspenseful heart began to calm down.

No! Lin Yan went numb all of a sudden. Not only was there no one there, but the windows were clearly locked, and the curtains were tightly tied on both sides. How could they be blown by the wind? What he saw in the reflection on the screen just now. . . what was going on?

An illusion! It must be an illusion! Lin Yan clenched his jaw. He couldn't help but pinch himself to keep himself sane.

There was a small electric crackle. The power went out, and the whole room fell into silent darkness.

Almost at the same time, the indicator light of the computer monitor suddenly flickered. The two small red lights looked like blinking eyes, accompanied by the squeaking sound of the whirring motors. The screen that was in a completely power-off state glowed green as if the screen saver had been switched. It's like a procedure.

No. . . Wasn't there a power outage? Lin Yan was completely speechless. His whole body was pushed back into the chair by the sudden and weird atmosphere. Then the screen flashed and, as if someone was typing, large characters appeared one after the other on the screen, piercingly red.

"The first day of the month of Wushen; the death date is approaching."

Another clap of thunder boomed outside the window.

Lin Yan swallowed hard and stared at the line of words on the screen. He tried his best to calm himself down, but his mind went blank.

It must be. . . It must be Yin Zhou pranking him.

He was a professional programmer and technical expert. Messing with the program to mess up the power grid. It must be boring to try and scare yourself or something.

"The first day of the month of Wushen; the death date is approaching."

The line of red letters flashed on the screen twice and disappeared. The computer then powered back off. Only Lin Yan's heavy breathing remained in the dark room. He took out his cell phone from his pant pocket and tried to call Yin Zhou. Before he pressed the call button, there was a heavy and repetitive tapping on the windowpane.

"Taptaptap. . . taptaptap"

He couldn't see anything in the heavy curtain of rain.

Lin Yan suddenly jumped up and leaned against the computer desk, staring out the window. This. . . this was the twelfth floor, what could be knocking on the window?

"Taptaptap. . . taptaptap"

The knocking increased as if someone were waiting impatiently.

Materialists couldn't stand immediate losses. Besides, creatures always have the instinct to avoid danger. The atmosphere was so strange. Lin Yan grabbed the car keys from his pocket and rushed out of the house without looking back.

The rain fell harder and faster, and the normally bustling three-ring road was empty. There was only the heavy rain curtains and thick fog. Lin Yan turned on his headlights lights all the way. He hoped to find an exit that was bustling with life and filled with a large crowd. In one night, his normal life was completely messed up. There was no signal from his cell phone and no signal from the radio. He seemed to be isolated in a corner of the world and was just driving around endlessly.

Lin Yan glanced at the fuel gauge. He was running out of fuel as he went further down the road, but he had not found the exit of the overpass. He was a native to this country and yet he was trapped in the city that he had been living in for 22 years. Just saying it was absurd enough to make anyone laugh.

The low-beam light couldn't illuminate the road very far. Under the warm yellow light, only the dense lines of rain could be seen falling diagonally, washing down his windshield. There was a wide road in front of him, turn after turn. There were no people, no cars, and even the sound of the GPS reporting how many kilometres were left was inaudible and his speed on the speedometer was barely visible. Lin Yan looked straight ahead, for fear of missing any fork in the road.

After travelling on the highway for nearly three hours, Lin Yan finally began to panic after passing the IKEA billboard multiple times over.

A deep thought came to mind.

The ghost was making him go around in circles.

The arrow on his fuel gauge was almost at 'empty'. Lin Yan slowed down. He thought he couldn't keep driving forward. Obviously, there was a force trying to stop him. What he should do is to sort out his thoughts and find a solution instead of continuing to drive around aimlessly. He didn't dare think about what would happen if he ran out of fuel.

Lin Yan pulled the car over, leaving only his hazard lights on, then sat in the car and began to think about what happened at night.

Power outages, computers that suddenly freaked out, strange reflections.

The first thing that came to mind was that someone was playing a prank, but he immediately denied it. If it was just the problem with his computer, he might still suspect the unreliable programmer Yin Zhou, but the knocking on the window, preventing him from getting off the highway, and blocking his mobile and radio signals; none of that was this guy's style. Lin Yan searched his mind for a long time to find a candidate that might want to scare a friend like this, but he came up with nothing.

He himself was a very good person. He was a good student from elementary straight through his master's. Apart from skipping classes to play Warcraft, and handing notes to his classmates during an exam, he basically had no blips on his record. He has never even played any tricks on girls, let alone his immediate friend group. Even if someone wanted to play a prank on someone as revenge, that wasn't how Lin Yan handled things.

Lin Yan was a person who, even when he ate toothpaste and cookies on April Fool's Day, still believed that he was just eating something mint-flavoured. To understand what was going on, Lin Yan could only find the solution by going through his process of elimination. By the time he can go through his hilariously incompetent system of thinking, he has probably already vomited up three litres of blood.

Lin Yan rubbed his temples and thought hard. Someone was threatening him in an inexplicable way, or was outright declaring war.

Lin Yan turned on the cell phone's calendar and entered the date of the first day of the Wushan month. The small square immediately jumped to the corresponding date: July 15 and the gates of hell would be wide open.

Something is wrong, Lin Yan thought.

When he looked up again, there was suddenly something that hadn't been there before that appeared in front of his car.

A figure stood near the side of the road as the heavy rain poured down. The figure didn't seem to notice Lin Yan was there, neither holding an umbrella nor wearing a raincoat, quietly standing with his head held down under the dim street lamp. The fog everywhere made Lin Yan unable to see his appearance. He could only make out that it was tall and he was wearing weird, oversized clothes. The caring Lin Yan wanted to offer the figure a ride. Even though he can't really protect himself right now, but he can at least provide some shelter from the rain.

An empty highway, rainy night, a strange individual on the side of the road, this unfortunate picture seemed suspicious at first, but Lin Yan saw something a little more depressing.

The figure seemed. . . very lonely, like waiting for a resolution that will never come.

Lin Yan re-started the car after making sure all the doors were locked, and slowly slid forward along the roadside, thinking that after being trapped in this endless loop for so long anyway, it was more useful to see if this person might be able to help him break the cycle.

When he was less than ten metres away from the person, Lin Yan suddenly froze as though a gong went off beside his ear. He finally realized why he felt there was something wrong with this figure. This person had no shadow.

The streetlamp was casting light on this person, but there was no shadow at his feet. The place where the shadow should have been was just the shape of the streetlamp reflected in the puddle, which was shaken by the continuously falling rain, rippling and disturbing the surface of the water.

Lin Yan knew what he had encountered almost instantly.

He was covered in a cold sweat, he couldn't keep a grip on the steering wheel because of his clammy palms. There was a bitter taste in his mouth. He slammed his foot on the accelerator, not caring how much fuel he had left. He didn't even care if there was any road ahead, he just knew subconsciously that he had to get away.

40km, 60km, 80km, 90km. . .

Suddenly a car sped out in front of him. Lin Yan was stunned, and instinctively stepped on the brakes and jerked the steering wheel to the left!

"Squeel--" After the extremely sharp and piercing sound, the front bumper Lin Yan's Audi A4 was just a few centimetres away from the Buick's back bumper as he brushed past it. Immediately after, Lin Yan drove into the bushes and the car shook before getting stuck. After it stopped shaking, the windshield was covered with holly leaves.

The car had almost been totalled.

Lin Yan lay on the steering wheel, panting heavily, his whole body was frozen.

"Knockknockknock." Something harshly knocked against the car window

Lin Yan jumped nervously and stared at the glass in horror. When he could see the face of a man, he let out a long sigh, and then rolled down the car window.

"Who the hell taught you how to drive? If you were so desperate to die, just tell me and I'll beat you to death!"

A series of harsh curses about his ancestors gave Lin Yan a sense of joy, bringing him back to reality. He almost rushed out and hugged the Buick driver.

"No. . . I'm sorry, I've been on this highway for three hours. I just found my way. I was a little excited, sorry, sorry."

Lin Yan wasn't paying attention to what the other driver said, and couldn't help smiling bitterly since the driver must really consider him an idiot.

The Buick driver stared at Lin Yan for a while, then suddenly stopped the curse, and muttered, "You look like you've seen a ghost." He took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and handed one to Lin Yan: "Did you come across something weird? Smoke a cigarette to calm your nerves. You should bring out a protection charm next time. We all have strange experiences at night every now and again."

Lin Yan got out of the car, and the driver lit the cigarette for Lin Yan. The two stood side by side on the roadside. Strangely, cars began whizzing by on the road. There were rows of shops and tall buildings lit up on both sides of the street where there was originally only fog and dark shadows. Even the rain from earlier had stopped.

Lin Yan took a puff of cigarettes and calmed down, and said in surprise: "Have we met before?"

The driver smiled indifferently: "It often happens, especially in places with a lot of accidents. The more deadly the accident, the more evil will be left behind."

Lin Yan nodded. He didn't know how much his materialistic worldview changed from this information.

After sending the driver away, Lin Yan whipped the sweat off his forehead and took out his phone to check the time. The screen showed two text messages and three missed calls, one every half an hour on average within the past two hours. Lin Yan opened his settings; the phone wasn't muted, the volume wasn't very loud but it was enough from him to hear it. It confirmed that the signal had been blocked this whole time.

Message 1: "Will you come out for a drink? The regular place."

Message 2: "What are you doing? Answer the phone!"

Both the sender and the caller were Yin Zhou.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[funkymbtifiction]

How I Write, How I Dream: ESTP Edition

Mod: An ESTP asked permission to submit this, since she noticed I do not have an ESTP ‘How I write stories’ description in the archive to match this series. What follows is in her own words.

ESTP: How I Write, How I Dream

So this submission is like 6+ years late topically, I think, but it’s an understatement to say I get side-tracked easily. First I had to be self-aware enough to actually determine my type with confidence, and then I had to remember to write this up. Hopefully it’s an edition that’s better late than never – in any case, I thought it might be fun to contribute, given the frequent lack of Se-dom voices in things like this.

I’m aware that I might be in a comparatively small group as a regular ESTP writer, let alone one familiar with personality typology, but I wrote my first short story at nine for a 4th grade assignment, and then my first full story/intended book when I was eleven, (both of which I immediately proceeded to act out on the playground), so it’s sort of always been a part of my normal retinue of hobbies/coping mechanisms/diversions/distractions. Usually I find that I write the most when I’m bored or otherwise dissatisfied with my real life – sort of using it to spice things up with more exciting events, even if they’re regrettably fictional. I also suspect that I use writing to experience all the interesting things I find myself unable to physically do, at least for the moment – not unlike what your ISTP contributor described. I think sometimes that I use it to subconsciously work through certain concepts, too, until I understand them holistically. It’s like it gives me a way to actually engage and interact with a philosophical concept through tangible expression – through embedding it into [fictional] human behavior. Like how I understand the nuances of the concept of apostasy better for having walked through the plot of Silence (2016) with Scorsese than I would have if it was still just a definition in a theology textbook. Application helps me. (I also had a counselor a while back who told me that I used my writing to work through the emotions I hate to process in real life, but I was never wholly convinced of that or the connection of my plots to my real life events, so jury’s out, I guess.)

When I was a kid, I liked to read a fair-ish amount. Spies were oftentimes my favorite topic, but I also wanted eagerly to be one and owned probably every kid spy gadget ever manufactured for sale at the Spy Museum in D.C., to which I dragged my parents practically every weekend so I could crawl through air vents, etc. However, my favorite children’s series of all was actually the Ingo series by the late Helen Dunmore, which provided me with exciting, nature-based, and [mostly] emotionally satisfying adventures in my lifelong favorite unpredictable environment – underwater. (I also dragged my parents constantly to our local aquarium.) As I got older, the frequency of my reading dropped, and I now find myself usually pulled more towards nonfiction.

[Note – I just realized a lifelong quirk with me and books. I’m sort of ridiculously set on *seeing* the books I own. I mean, I know what I own, but I still constantly get out every book I own on a particular topic just to see them all at once. It makes the knowledge more cohesive for me to concentrate it visually, I guess. Even just the covers. Anyway.]

My writing habits are kind of awful – in that, like alluded to above, I pretty much only write when I either a) am seized by a great idea, or else b) have nothing better to do. I have little ambition to actually publish or anything like that, regardless of encouragement, and I prefer to think of my writing as just a diversion, an amusement for myself alone (though I do crave minimal approval, as I do in anything). In any case, as soon as the pressure of a schedule is attached to my writing, it drains of all joy for me. Much like your ISTP contributor described, I think I hover somewhere between plotter and pantser, depending on the story. Too much planning leads to my feeling like I have no incentive to actually write it, as I’ve already experienced it, and too little leaves me spinning aimlessly with no real direction. I write both prose and screenplays, and the rule seems to hold true for both, overall. Also, whenever I have a problem in my plotting or characters or whatever, I find that I have to step away, go be busy with something else, sometimes for a long while, and when I come back everything just falls into place. I guess unconscious Ti and/or Ni finding solutions? I’m not totally sure how/why that happens.

As my inclusion of screenplay format may suggest, I experience my stories in an incredibly visual way. I think sometimes that my narratives come across very much like movies, with all the requisite limitations and usual lack of character introspection. I feel like I pretty much focus on the observable actions of my characters – I find describing any kind of extended rumination highly unnatural, at least most of the time. Even my planning is highly visual. I have a tendency to graph, chart, draw, and plaster my options all over the walls. It’s ridiculous sometimes, but in many cases I just have to be able to see them all next to each other, even if there’s no other information provided. Like my books, mentioned earlier. It helps clarify my plot choices in my mind. It’s also a quirk/weakness of mine that I am often entirely dependent on outside images for descriptions. I need to find a real person, place, or thing to base my fictional ones on physically if I hope to have any kind of concrete knowledge to allow description. Again, it helps solidify them/it in my mind.

I have another weakness in my writing that often results in much incredulous laughter – I’m often entirely blind to any hidden meaning or symbolism in my own writing. I might get the vaguest sense of something being a good line, but be unsure why until my ISFJ friend starts praising my deep, archetypal references and crafting – and then staring at me when I clearly have no idea what she means. It’s happened several times by this point, and though it makes me laugh, I’ll just blame it on the subconscious inferior Ni. I pretty much never have any kind of goal of being symbolic or laden with deep meaning. If I were ever to try that, I think it would massively stress me out.

In terms of editors, beta readers, or whatever else we want to call those who give solicited criticism – that’s just what I need/want. Criticism. For the most part, I’m incredibly thick-skinned about my writing and would be absolutely fine if someone told me that it was utterly terrible and the whole thing needed revising down to the very concept. That may be because I think many of my concepts are lackluster to start with. But nothing frustrates me so quickly as readers unwilling to actually [and harshly] criticize. I always tell them that I want him/her to rip it to shreds. I mean, that’s the only way it’ll get better. (I’ve made mistakes before by assuming that other writers feel this way, too – my sister did not appreciate my input.)

I write almost exclusively dramas these days, I guess, though of varying subtypes. (I also maintain the availability/ready accessibility of about 10+ stories at any given time of active writing. I bounce between them sometimes based on what I’m feeling like at the moment or what I have a new thought about.) I have a sort of historical drama thing that takes place in the 1680s, a modern drama prompted by a premise of genetic engineering, a Most Dangerous Game kind of hunting/weapons thing, a detective story in the immediate aftermath of WWII, a classic deserted island story, a thing involving the phenomenon of stigmata… the list goes on and shifts constantly.

However, while I’ve typically enjoyed writing, here’s the omnipresent rub – engaging with it for any great amount of time makes me really unhealthy emotionally. I’m pretty sure that after like two or three days primarily working on a story without other overriding priorities, or like six or seven with those scattered distractions, (at best), I’m plummeting straight down to my inferior functions. My historical stories do this even more quickly, because they oftentimes seem to require more mental effort. I get super irritable, drown in self-loathing, start to think that everything real that I want is never going to happen – it’s really not good. The fact of the matter is that while writing is a fun diversion oftentimes, I go insane doing it for too long, because I need to get out and engage. (Thanks to my pesky Se-dom, daring to ask for more than just incessant fidgeting.)

When I do write, however, I’m known for my in-depth research, my character-driven plots, lines some people in my life seem to think are witty or something, and emotional depth, believe it or not. I’ve been complimented on it, as well as my tendency to accurately portray mental/emotional illness. I don’t know. I’ve never thought I was overly talented at such things, but then again, I never paid much attention. Even this write-up has been hard – analyzing my writing like this. It’s not a strength of mine to scrutinize my own habits.

After all, I’m busy – I have to go blast Maroon 5 as I jump off a 20-foot wall yelling, “Parkour!”

I am an ESTP, remember? ;-)

[ohkiyo]

pairing: Goshiki Tsutomu x Reader

warnings: none

word count: 2, 863

a/n: I got sidetracked so many times while writing this XD.

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shiratorizawa navigation || main navigation

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Rest days were very rare for members of any sports clubs, especially when a very important tournament is just right around the corner, and just as practices are good, taking a break and resting those tired muscles is very important as well. 

That is why, when Coach Washijou announce yesterday that they’d have the weekend off, members of Shiratorizawa’s boys’ volleyball club use it as an opportunity to finally do the plans they have been holding on for a while now.

Therefore, when Goshiki called you last night to tell you he’d be taking you on a date the next day, you were ecstatic. Letting out an excited squeal, startling your roommate in the process who was watching a movie while you jump around in your room, still talking to your boyfriend about your plans for your date. 

Your roommate was definitely looking at you funny, watching as you were talking so fast she couldn’t even understand what you were saying, so she just shook her head and continued watching her movie.

The two of you didn’t really plan anything extravagant, just a stroll around the mall or anything mundane, you don’t really care, you’re just glad you can finally have your boyfriend all by yourself for the whole day. Currently, the two of you were in your favorite clothes shop in one of Sendai’s malls, going through the various assortments of apparel they offer.

Browsing through the rack of sweaters and jacket, a certain clothing item caught your attention; you took it from the rack and giving it a closer look. It was a black colored hoodie, with a little animated bread with a smiley face and the words peanut butter printed just below it was the design, situated on the upper left part of the chest area. It was big, but you have always preferred clothes that were twice your size, they were more comfortable.

Going through the rack again, you saw another one, similar in color, a similar animated bread with the smiley face but this one says jelly, the position of the design was the same but it was smaller, closer to your size than the one you are currently holding.

Realizing that it was a couple hoodie, you walk up to your boyfriend and showed it to him.

“Tsutomu, look!” you said, holding up the two hoodies for him to see. He examines it, the cute design definitely catching his attention.

“Can we buy this?”

“Sure!”

After paying for your items, the two of you went to the mall’s rooftop where restaurants with open areas were operating. It was mostly the go-to place for most shoppers since the tables were placed in an open space, surrounded by many potted plants and a beautiful fountain in the middle, not only that, the fresh air is a good addition as well if anyone wants to get away from the stuffy smell the mall’s air conditioners were usually giving.

“It looks so good” Goshiki said, as the server place your food on the table, you could feel your mouth watering just by the sight of it. Immediately digging into the plates of food, once everything you’ve ordered was served.

“(Y/n)-chan, have you tried this one yet?” Goshiki pointed at the plate of chicken in front of him, you shook your head, swallowing your food.

“It’s really good” he took a piece of chicken with his fork and feeding it to you, watching as you slowly chew on the piece of meat. Your eyes went wide, a little hum leaving your lips at the various flavors exploding in your mouth. 

It was just fried chicken, but it was a lot different from the ones you have had, probably because of the spices the cooks put during preparation.

“Tasty, right?” you nodded your head as he fed you another piece chuckling at how your cheeks were bulging with so much food.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, on a table, a few feet away were three pairs of eyes watching the exchange like a hawk.

“I didn’t know he has a girlfriend” Yamagata leaned forward as he squints his eyes, trying to have a closer look at the girl to see if he recognize her.

“She’s probably just a classmate” Reon said watching as his other three companions decided to ignore their food and focus more on the cute display of affection happening in front of them. 

It’s not even considered PDA, they were just sharing their food something people normally do, but for them, who had been around the first year far too long would know that this was new, even they were surprised. 

They know Goshiki is not good at talking to girls, they could clearly remember how he chokes on his own spit the other day when he was talking to one of the members of the girls’ volleyball team. 

“She’s probably more than just a classmate” Tendou wiggled his finger at them, sliding his plate towards Ushijima and telling him to finish it.

“A friend maybe? They look close” Semi offered, as both he and Yamagata followed Tendou’s action, Reon sweatdrop watching as the third-year captain silently accept all the foods being given to him. 

“What? No!” Tendou objected, an offended look on his face as if they had just insulted his favorite manga “You’re all clearly underestimating Tsutomu, he’s tall, he’s cute, he’s smart and good at sports. He’s like a mini Wakatoshi-kun if you ask me!”

“So, you think Wakatoshi is cute?” Yamagata raises an eyebrow at him, crossing his arms over his chest as Semi’s mouth formed into the widest grin Tendou has ever seen.

“You know he’s right over there, you could tell him that you have a crush-“ 

Tendou clamp a hand over Semi’s mouth as he sneaks a glance towards Ushijima who seemed to have not heard what any of them was saying, and was more invested in his food than pay them attention. He let out a sigh, before turning his head to the two.

“We don’t talk about that here”

Semi remove his hand a smirk on his face “Alright, but we’re going to have a discussion about it later”

“They’re leaving” 

They watch as the duo walk away, hand in hand, something that did not go unnoticed from their prying eyes.

“Guess they really were a couple”

"Told ya!”

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"Hmm, what to watch" you tap your chin as you look at the various movie posters that were showing that day. The movie options weren't even that interesting to begin with, half of it was romance dramas while the others were just poor adaptations of movies from other countries. 

Goshiki let out a sigh, about to suggest that you do something else when another poster, all alone in the far corner of the wall, caught his eye.

"(Y/n)-chan look" he tugs at your blouse as you turn to look where he was pointing, you squint your eyes reading the details written on it. It was a promotional poster to this year's Eigasai [1], the list of movies to be shown were listed in bullet forms and the selected malls where it would be showing printed at the bottom.

"That's today" you look at your boyfriend who nodded his head and the two of you went back to the rooftop, walking towards the area where the screening for the Eigasai selected films were being held.

"Their movie line up this year is good" you muttered, as you read the titles of the multi-awarded films.  Recognizing how most of them were movies directed by famous directors.

"Let’s watch this one" Goshiki pointed at the poster, the title The Boy and The Beast catching your interest, you nodded your head as the both of you stood in line to get your tickets.

Once that was done, you made a quick purchase for your snacks before going inside the cinema, sitting in your designated area as you waited for the movie to start.

The projector was playing an ad as people slowly fill in the empty seats. You adjusted yourself in your seat, leaning back as the lights start to go dim, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn as the movie's intro starts playing.

Among many villages of beast in the world, the busiest is here, called Jutengai. The number of beast living here is about a hundred thousand.

“This is a very good way to start a movie” Goshiki commented eyes never leaving the screen as he took a sip of his drink. You nodded your head in agreement.

“I know, right?”

A long time leader among them proclaimed he shall retire and become a god. While pondering which god he shall be, since a new leader must be named should he decide, he ordered everyone to prepare a candidate.

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"That was probably the worst horror movie I've ever seen in my life" Semi grumbled stomping out of the cinema as he let out a huff “People were hyping it up so bad on social media, that I thought it was going to be exciting or something"

"That was definitely a flop" Tendou added shaking his head in disappointment.

"I demand a refund"

"I don't think that's possible Eita" Reon could only offer a pat on the back, before casting a glance at the second years who they had bumped into while waiting in line for their ticket "I think I saw Kenjirou fell asleep somewhere in the middle"

Shirabu shrugs his shoulders, moving his bangs away from his eyes to have a proper look at his upperclassman "It was boring"

"We should have just went to Eigasai instead" Kawanishi patted the giant poster displayed beside him. Popping a popcorn in his mouth as he watches Semi grab Tendou by the collar of his shirt and shaking him.

"You made me pay ¥1,800 [2] for a movie where I could've just watch it for free!"

"Now, now Eita-kun it was an honest mistake. We didn't know the film festival was today"

Tendou tries to explain but Semi just shook him harder, while an oddly pale-looking Yamagata stood beside Ushijima, not saying a single word since they had exited the cinema.

"Are you okay Hayato?" Ushijima asks, looking at him.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine" he answered before a thought went through his head 'What the fuck you mean that movie was boring?! It was terrifying!' He had to resist the shiver running down his spine as he could still remember some scenes from the movie.

He was definitely having nightmares tonight.

“By the way. Have you seen Tsutomu today?” Tendou asks pulling Semi off of him “He’s on a date!”

The two second years raise an eyebrow “A date?”

“Yeah- look there he is!” the redhead stretch his hand and pointed to Goshiki and his date walking towards the escalator. Laughing amongst each other.

“C’mon let’s go!” he gathered them all and started pushing them towards the direction the two have gone, completely ignoring their protest.

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"I didn't know there was a park here" Goshiki mumbled a stunned look on his face as his eyes surveyed the area. It was big, a lot bigger than the ones near the neighborhood areas, there were gazebos, a picnic area where tables were already set up overlooking a wide lake with wild ducks swimming around. A playground at the far corner complete with a seesaw, a slide, a sandbox, and a jungle gym.

"Me neither" you added taking a seat in one of the many benches as a sudden realization hit you "Gosh we need to go out more. How long has it been since we went off campus?"

Goshiki thought for a moment before answering "2 months"

"2 months?!" you gaped at him, as he tried to recount the days but it stayed the same "How?"

"High school happened" the both of you let out a heavy exhale, pulling you closer to him as the two of you watch the rest of the park goers enjoying their afternoon.

“I had fun today Tsutomu-kun. Thank you” you said squeezing your boyfriend’s hand as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Really? I’m glad” he smiled down at you, planting a kiss on the crown of your head as he adjusted himself, resting his head on top of yours. 

“Achoo!” 

“Tissue! Tissue!” 

“We don’t have any more tissues!”

Kawanishi sniffled, a pained groan leaving his lips as he sneezes once more. The itchy feeling in his nose irritating him as he took Shirabu’s offered handkerchief. 

“Taichi-nii?” 

Kawanishi raises his hand in a small wave as you frown, walking up to him while rummaging your bag for the tissue you had packed earlier.

“What are you doing standing near the flower beds? You know you’re allergic to them” you took hold of his wrist as you pulled him towards the picnic area where there were only grasses and trees present, the other following after you two.

“Sorry” he blew on his nose, as you gave him his antihistamine pill and a bottle of water. Semi doesn't even question why you're carrying an anti-allergy pill with you, he's just glad Kawanishi was immediately given some medication.

“You know her Taichi?” Tendou tilts his head to the side, eyes blinking in question.

Kawanishi nodded his head “She’s my younger cousin” he answered as he turned you to them, telling you to introduce yourself.

“Hello, my name’s (L/n) (Y/n) nice to meet you” you bowed as they introduce themselves to you one by one.

“You’re Tsutomu’s girlfriend, right? We saw you two earlier” you nodded your head, smiling at Yamagata as he started patting Goshiki on the back, while Tendou keeps on ruffling his hair until it was messy, saying something how he didn’t tell them that he has a cute girlfriend and why he didn't introduce you to them earlier.

You chuckled, turning your attention back to your cousin who's sniffles had finally calmed down. You gave him another piece of tissue, stepping to the side as a couple walks past your group. You scrunch up your nose as the familiar smell of strong perfume went up to your nostril, before a sneeze finally left your lips.

"You too?" Semi asks, growing worried by the second as a barrage of sneezes left your lips. Goshiki sitting you down beside your older cousin and offering you the almost empty tissue pack.

"It was the perfume" you wave your hand at the couple that was already a few feet away, but the smell of their perfume still lingering in the air.

Tendou and Shirabu had to pinch their nose, trying to prevent themselves from accidentally inhaling the scent as Yamagata tries to stop himself from gagging "I don't know what it was but it stinks"

Reon nodded as he tried to wave away the awful smell, while Ushijima doesn't even look affected in the slightest. You let out another sneeze rubbing your temple as you start to feel yourself getting a headache, Kawanishi doing the same.

Looks like it’s going to be a miserable weekend for the both of you.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

You stood beside the two coaches, a smile on your face, and a notebook in hand, as your eyes scanned the face of the new team you will be managing from now on. You had just finished introducing yourself to the team, waiting for Coach Washijou and Coach Saito to finish their pre-practice reminders.

“Starting today she will be your new manager so don't screw it up!" 

"Yes sir!" was their collective reply as Coach Washijou nodded his head, satisfied at the energy they seem to possess.

"Good, now start warming up. We're starting with spiking drills today"

With that, they disperse and walk over to their own area and started stretching. Thoroughly preparing their body for the strenuous exercise they will be doing today.

"It's funny how we just met (Y/n) a few days ago and now she's our manager" Reon mused, as he twists his body to the side.

"I offered the position to her" Ushijima said as they look at him "Shirabu mentioned that she's an outstanding student and I think she would be a good addition to the team. Someone reliable to help take care of everyone"

"You're fast"

"It would be a shame if she were to manage a different a club, and also..." he pauses meeting their eyes as his lips twitch into one of those rare smiles they have seen "... She would be an excellent motivator for Goshiki"

He motioned his head to where the two first years were talking to each other, Goshiki was sporting a very wide smile on his face, visibly vibrating on the spot as the girl wrap his fingers with some tape. Which was odd, he doesn’t even tape his fingers.

Probably an excuse to talk to her more.

"They're cute together aren't they?" Semi commented, watching as Goshiki sneakily gave his girlfriend a peck on the forehead before jogging towards the court.

"Yes they are" Tendou nodded his head, as silence enveloped the both of them before Semi spoke up again.

"So... about your crush on Wakatoshi"

"Eita-kun, shh!"

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

[1] Eigasai is a Japanese film festival held every August, I think. They would have screenings of the best Japanese films animated or not, and the best thing about it, it’s free! You just have to make the effort to wait in line. I search up google and unfortunately, it’s an event only available in my country, at least that’s what it said, but just for the sake of this story, I decided to include Japan as well. hehehe

[2] According to Google, that’s the actual price for movie tickets in Japan.

[afternoonteawithme]

A Perfect Match

Fandom: MZDS / Pairing: WangXian / Rating: T / WC: 2761

(read it on AO3)

“Don’t you think Professor Wei and Professor Lan would make a great couple?”

Halfway down a long aisle and hidden behind tall rows of stacked bookshelves, Wei Ying froze in place, one finger still on the spine of the book he’d just pushed back onto a shelf.

Since he was the only Professor Wei on the faculty, he figured it was a safe bet that he was the Professor Wei being talked about. There were, however, three Professor Lans at the college, and he was suddenly beyond intrigued to find out which one he was being paired with.

Quietly, he eased down the aisle, ducking down enough to see through a gap in the shelves to the open study area beyond. He’d just spotted the group of students sitting around one of the tables when that same young, enthusiastic voice rang out again, remarkably loud in the silence of the library.

“I mean, wouldn’t they be perfect together?”

“Oh please.” A second voice sneered. “In what universe?”  

That voice was more familiar, in a ‘this kid is really annoying’ sort of way, but Wei Ying still couldn’t put a name to it. He angled his head to the side to get a better look, and thought he’d found the first speaker. Just as young as his voice had sounded, the boy leaned back in his chair as he stared dreamily into the distance, not even pretending to pay attention to the books that lay scattered in front of him. Wei Ying knew who he was, sort of - the son of Secretary Ouyang from the school board and, so far at least, a fairly decent student - but for the life of him couldn’t remember the kid’s actual name.  

“Just imagine it, though. Professor Lan, with all that restraint and self-control and the way he’s just so regal all the time, and Professor Wei being all like…like…like that.” The enthusiastic Ouyang waved his hand through the year in a way that made Wei Ying’s mouth twitch. “They’re perfect for each other.”  

“I repeat, in what universe?” The sneerer sneered, and Wei Ying’s dusty memory clicked his name into place. Jin Chan. Already a pain in the entire faculty’s ass though they were barely two months into his freshman year, largely due to his father’s insistence that the world – and the college – should revolve around his son, though Jin Chan’s own inability to open his mouth without annoying almost everyone in his vicinity helped make him even more memorable.

Unknowingly proving Wei Ying’s point, Jin Chan continued, “Professor Lan’s so tediously boring, and Professor Wei-”

“Professor Lan isn’t boring!” A third student at the table spoke up, and Wei Ying saw, without surprise, that it was Lan Jingyi – the second most easily irritated by Jin Chan student in the freshman class. “You just don’t like him because he told you he’d fail you if you tried to make someone else do your assignments again, and he won’t take your dad’s bribes to raise your grades.”  

Jin Chan, predictably, sneered yet again. “Please. His classes are boring and useless. I’d have dropped them already if they weren’t a requirement.” He sniffed. “And besides, your grades suck compared to mine.”

Half rising from his seat, Lan Jingyi thumped a hand onto the table. “They do not.”

“Enough.” The boy sitting beside Lan Jingyi reached up and smoothly pulled him back into his chair. “You guys are neck and neck, and if you don’t actually start working on this project you’ll both fail Professor Lan’s class anyway.”

Jin Chan rolled his eyes. “As if we could fail with you in our group, Wen Yuan. You’re his pet, he’d never sully your reputation with anything but a top grade.”

Lan Jingyi was on his feet again. “Look, you dickw-”

Wen Yuan cut him off by jerking him back into his seat, and then turned his head to look at Jin Chan. Wei Ying couldn’t see Wen Yuan’s expression from where he stood, but he clearly saw the way Jin Chan dropped his eyes away, shutting his mouth as he scowled down at his books.

The enthusiastic Ouyang paid no attention to the almost fight, or to Wen Yuan’s earlier nudge to get back to work. “I mean, the aesthetics alone would make it worth it. They’re both so pretty.”

Lan Jingyi lifted his head to stare at him across the table. “You’re saying they’d make a good couple because you think they’re both attractive?”

“No, no. They do make a beautiful picture whenever they stand next to each other, but that’s just a bonus.”

A wide grin spread over Wei Ying’s face as he had a brief flash of himself standing beside an angrily yelling Lan Qiren. Nope. They probably didn’t mean that Professor Lan.

Lan Jingyi shook his head. “I just can’t see it. They’re opposites – I mean Professor Wei is always talking in class about how we need to learn how to break the established rules, and Professor Lan is…well-”

“He’s obsessed with rules. And my father says Professor Wei is a radical, and a danger to the college and to his students.” Jin Chan sniffed, raising his nose into the air even as he avoided looking in Wen Yuan’s direction. “He says he should be fired immediately.”

“Your dad thinks everyone should be fired.” Lan Jingyi shot back.

“Clearly, this college is full of sub-par staff and teachers. My father said he’d never have sent me here if he’d known, and he’s already looking at transferring me as soon as he finds a suitable alternative.”  

“I wish he’d hurry up.” Lan Jingyi muttered, and then winced away from the elbow Wen Yuan jabbed into his side.  

Still ignoring the drama around him, the enthusiastic Ouyang let the front legs of his chair drop to the ground and braced his elbows on the table. “I mean, I don’t think it would ever happen, but you have to admit they’d be such a great match. You think so too, don’t you Wen Yuan?”

Wen Yuan looked up from the book he’d been pointedly nudging into Lan Jingyi’s hands. “Me? I’m not sure why-”

“Remember this morning, when we were in the staff lounge and we saw Professor Wei talking to that Nie guy from the school board? They were playing around and I said they looked like they were friends?”

“Yes, I remember. And it’s Chairman Nie, not ‘that Nie guy’.”

“Well when we were leaving I saw Professor Lan watching them too. He actually looked kind of angry – and then he sort of rolled his eyes and walked away. So I think he has a crush on Professor Wei.”

The rest of the occupants of the table, and Wei Ying, all stared at him in shock.

“Are you serious?” Jin Chan demanded. “You made this whole thing up because Professor Wei and Chairman Nie were being loud and obnoxious and Professor Lan got irritated at them? Ouyang Zizhen, there’s something wrong with your brain.”

Ouyang Zizhen – and Wei Ying didn’t think he’d ever forget that name again - just sighed, and shook his head sadly. “I feel bad for him, pining like that. I mean, Professor Wei seems like such a flirt, but he’d never notice if someone like Professor Lan liked him unless they whacked him over the head with it, and Professor Lan isn’t the type to ever get pushy.”    

“You’re so stupid.” And Jin Chan was back to sneering as he pointedly grabbed one of the books piled in the center of the table and flipped it open. “I can’t believe I wasted my time listening to you.”

“Oh, but you’re related to Professor Wei, aren’t you Jin Ling?” As he spoke, Ouyang Zizhen turned towards the far end of the table. “Isn’t he your uncle or something? Maybe you could put in a good word for Professor Lan.”

Wei Ying blinked, and then eased a couple inches over until he finally saw the fifth member of the group. Jin Ling sat with his head down, shoulders hunched, and an aura that told Wei Ying he desperately wanted to be anywhere but there.

“I have nothing to do with any of them. Leave me alone.”

“But Jin Ling, this could be Professor Lan’s only chance at happiness!”

Jin Ling looked up, and Wei Ying had to bite back a laugh at the expression on his nephew’s face. “Can we just get on with the project?”

“Yes. We need to get back to work.” Wen Yuan spoke with gentle firmness. “If we don’t get this assignment done before the library closes we’ll have to meet again over the weekend and I don’t think anyone wants that.”

As all the boys, including Ouyang Zizhen, turned back to their books, Wei Ying soundlessly backed up and escaped from the other end of the aisle.

He was laughing to himself as he hopped down the stairs to the basement floor of the library. He still didn’t know which Lan they meant, though he was mostly sure it wasn’t Lan Qiren. It could be Lan Huan, except he didn’t think Lan Huan had rolled his eyes at anything in his entire life, ever. Lan Zhan, however…

He strolled along the aisles, and to his great pleasure found Lan Zhan at the very back, sitting at a desk in one of the alcoves tucked away behind the last row of bookshelves, his head bent over the thick book lying open in front of him as he made precise notes on the pad of paper at his side.

With a grin, Wei Ying slid onto the desk, his hip nudging the heavy book away.

Lan Zhan shot him a look, then straightened the book and turned back to the note he was making on his notepad. “What are you doing, Wei Ying?”

“Well, apparently some of the students think we’d make a perfect couple, so I decided I’d find you and see what you thought about that.”

“I see.”

Wei Ying leaned back, resting on his hands as he stretched one leg out in front of him, studying his shoe. “Apparently, you’ve been pining for me, but no one thinks you’d be pushy enough to make a move.”

“Mm.”

“I have to admit that made me laugh a little. I almost wanted to interrupt and tell them some stories about their regal Professor Lan, but I thought it might be too early in the school year to shock them that much.”

“Mm.”

“Actually, they might have been talking about your brother, or even Lan Qiren. I couldn’t really tell.”

“Is that so.”

“Uh-huh. I figure they meant you, though, because it can’t be your uncle – he’d cut out his own eyes if it meant he could see me less often. And Lan Huan would never be obvious enough about it if he did have a crush on me for anyone but you to figure it out.”

“He does not.”

“No, I didn’t think so. Well then, that just leaves you. So, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you have a crush on me?” Wei Ying leaned forward, his arm blocking Lan Zhan’s view of the page as he stretched across it to adjust the neatly knotted tie around Lan Zhan’s neck.  

“Wei Ying, stop playing around.”

Slowly, Wei Ying trailed the tie’s length through his fingers, before letting the silky fabric drop. “But I have to check, because you see, apparently I’d never notice if someone like you liked me unless you whacked me over the head with it.”

Lan Zhan sighed, then quietly closed the book, set it aside, and looked up into Wei Ying’s laughing eyes.

“I still have work, Wei Ying. Go play somewhere else for a little while.”

“But Lan Zhan, this is important. They said you looked jealous when Nie Huaisang and I were talking earlier, and I wouldn’t want you to misunderstand.” Wei Ying’s smile widened when he saw he’d managed to get Lan Zhan’s full attention. “It isn’t Nie Huaisang I like, after all.”

“I know.” Lan Zhan dropped his gaze away, back to his notepad, but Wei Ying saw the way the straight line of his mouth had softened, curving up ever so slightly.

“You do? That’s good. So you weren’t jealous, then?”

“Wei Ying, I need to finish writing up this assignment.”  

“I guess you weren’t, then. Oh, unless..” Wei Ying paused, then deliberately widened his eyes as he lifted one hand to his chest. “Unless it’s not me you were jealous over. Maybe you have a thing for Nie Huaisang?”

In one smooth motion, Lan Zhan pushed back from the table and stood.

Wei Ying watched, grinning broadly, as Lan Zhan slid into place between his legs, placing his hands flat against the desk on either side of Wei Ying’s hips.

“Wei Ying.”

“Hmm?” The way Lan Zhan’s upper body pressed him backwards made it a little hard for Wei Ying to catch his breath.  

“I like you. Only you.”

“Oh.” Wei Ying truly couldn’t think of a response to that, so he just wrapped his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck, lifting his mouth to meet Lan Zhan’s. “Good, then.”

But as he felt Lan Zhan leaning into him, Wei Ying couldn’t resist one more comment. “Wait, wait, maybe I misunderstood those boys entirely. Maybe they thought Nie Huaisang and I were the ones who’d make a perfect couple.”

Lan Zhan shifted his hands until he gripped Wei Ying’s thighs, yanking his hips forward as he said one single, clipped word.

“No.”

  A little more than ten minutes later, Wei Ying managed to catch his breath long enough to register the voices coming towards them. He turned his head just as all noise cut off abruptly, and saw the same group of students he’d been eavesdropping on upstairs standing a few yards away, gaping at them.

Well, three of them were gaping. Jin Ling was glaring, and Wen Yuan had his face slightly turned away as he used one hand to hide what looked suspiciously like a laugh.  

Jin Ling sighed, loudly. “Why do I have to deal with you guys like this at school, too?”

“Oops.” With a wicked grin, Wei Ying pressed a hand lightly to Lan Zhan’s chest, nudging him a few inches away as he let the leg he’d wrapped around his waist drop. “Sorry, kids.”

Lan Zhan stepped back from Wei Ying, giving him room to slip off the desk, and turned to face the boys with a calm, dignified expression on his face, as if his hair wasn’t still mussed from the hands that had been buried in it a few seconds before. “Can I help you with something?”

Wen Yuan glanced at the rest of his group, before evidently deciding no one else would speak. “We had a question about the project due on Monday. One of the librarians said you were back here.” He sent Wei Ying a rueful smile. “Alone.”

“Well then, I’ll get myself gone.” Wei Ying leaned down to pick up the suit jacket he’d tossed onto the floor, handing it to Lan Zhan as he started past.

He was almost to the group of boys when he heard Lan Zhan speak from behind him.

“Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“My tie.”

Wei Ying blinked, then looked down at the pale blue silk tie hanging loose around his neck. “Oh, right.” He walked back to Lan Zhan, dropping it onto his outstretched hand.  

The way Lan Zhan’s lips curved in response made Wei Ying’s heart thump in his chest.

Shaking his head at Lan Zhan’s lethally growing abilities, Wei Ying turned to leave, only to find that their whole audience had backed up a step.

“Actually, That’s ok.” Ouyang Zhizen had grabbed a couple arms and was forcibly urging the rest of the group to move faster as they kept easing backwards. “We’ll just figure it out ourselves.”

A little perplexed, Wei Ying watched the rapidly retreating students disappear around the end of the closest bookshelf. A second later he heard Ouyang Zizhen say, almost at a wail, “Jin Ling, they’re already dating?”

“No.” Jin Ling’s voice was full of exasperation. “They’re married. And they’re always like this.”

As their footsteps faded away, Wei Ying turned, leaning into Lan Zhan as he grinned up at him. “We are always like this, aren’t we?”

“Mm.” And with that, Lan Zhan dropped his mouth back to Wei Ying’s to continue where they’d left off.

[shijiujun]

For TangFei :) Person A accidentally falling asleep on the sofa while watching a movie at Person B’s house and waking up in the morning to see that Person B has covered them with blankets and made them breakfast

a snippet out of those days Shao Fei was living in Tang Yi’s house before shit went down XD

--

Even though Shao Fei said he was here to protect Tang Yi and thus should stick to the Xing Tian Meng leader no matter where he goes, when Tang Yi has to run a gang-related errand, he always glares at Shao Fei to stay home. Tang Yi might have let him into his house, but having a cop potentially stick his nose into anything that has to do with the gang leaves a bad taste in everyone else’s mouth, and Shao Fei understands that to some degree.

Still, this is the fourth consecutive evening that Tang Yi has skipped out on dinner and chased him home after work hours. Shao Fei’s used to how abrasive Tang Yi can get sometimes, especially when he doesn’t want to elaborate, but four evenings all on his own is a huge, quiet house is unnerving.

Bored, Shao Fei switches the television on and goes through the channels in a lazy manner. Nothing catches his eye - one channel is broadcasting a reality fashion and beauty program, while another one is showing the latest episode on some Taiwanese family drama. 

They’re at... wow, episode 512 already, Shao Fei frowns.

Finally, he turns to the kids channel and Shao Fei enters the world of a singing snowman, a girl with white hair who can make magic ice, a moose, and another couple going on an adventure. He might as well, since nothing interesting is on for the night.

Halfway through another rendition of Into the Unknown, Shao Fei gives in to the lull of sleep, his eyelids getting heavier with every second. He’ll just nap for a tiny bit... just close his eyes for that fifteen minutes at most, too lazy to get up for real and head upstairs.

In his dreams, he sees that singing snowman with the carrot nose, hears the loud songs that Elsa and Anna are singing, and when the wind blows, he shivers, cold.

Immediately after, however, in the blur of restless sleep, Shao Fei is suddenly encased in warmth as something heavy lands over him. The songs in his dream disappear as well, leaving only blissed silence. He exhales deeply, finally comfortable enough to slip deeper into sleep.

A hand caresses at his head, the tough so light that Shao Fei is convinced that this is a really, really nice dream.

===

For a long, drawn out moment, Shao Fei wonders where is, and why there’s someone moving about in the kitchen. The aroma of bacon and eggs wafts through the air, the smell familiar and comforting. He doesn’t often lie in - police academy drilled waking up early into him, and it is rare for him to sleep beyond 7am even on weekends.

Judging by how bright the rays of sunlight are, falling gorgeously onto the kitchen space and the man in it, it is definitely way after his usual waking hour.

He pushes himself to a sitting position, and then a heavy weight drops from his shoulders onto his laps.

Startled, Shao Fei stares at the thick duvet.

How...

The last thing he remembers is the snowman singing some song again before he fell asleep. He remembers falling asleep seated up as well, so... how did he end up lying on the couch, with a blanket over him?

A little mortified and embarrassed now as the answer dawns upon him, Shao Fei turns stiffly towards the direction of the kitchen, where Tang Yi is obviously making breakfast.

Did Tang Yi do this for him after returning home yesterday?

How terrible did he look asleep on the couch? And Tang Yi saw his sleeping face?!

Before he can panic even further, the sound of plates being set down on a hard surface interrupts his thoughts.

“You want milk or coffee with breakfast today?” asks Tang Yi.

“... c... coffee,” Shao Fei stammers in reply.

He rubs at his eyes, making sure they’re clean, before ambling his way over to the dining table and sits at his usual seat. Shao Fei doesn’t dare to look at Tang Yi, and instead buries his head in his bread. 

“I didn’t realize Officer Meng likes to watch Frozen,” Tang Yi comments suddenly, and Shao Fei nearly chokes.

“I don’t!” Shao Fei protests, “I- It was just on when I fell asleep, I don’t even know what the movie is really called-”

He trails off, because Tang Yi is chuckling, and that’s when Shao Fei knows the man is just pulling his leg. Annoyance and embarrassment first surfaces, but then...

Shao Fei hasn’t seen Tang Yi laugh like this before, not even after he moved in a few weeks ago.

Fine, he thinks, he’ll let this pass.

Who asked Tang Yi to look so handsome laughing like this, his features accentuated under the beautiful light they have today?

--

*Taiwanese family dramas are RIDICULOUSLY long I’m not even exaggerating. They usually at least go on for 200 episodes, no season breaks or shit. One of the famous Taiwanese family dramas all Chinese people have seen or heard of at least is this one called Love (爱) and it had 800 EPISODES. EIGHT HUNDRED. Singapore broadcasted a one hour episode everyday and it took years to finish, AND THERE WERE TWO ROUNDS OF REPEATS IN THE YEARS AFTER IT ENDED.

⭐  from these sleeping prompts ⭐

[slashingdisneypasta]

Teen!Chucky /Charles Lee Ray x Reader || Oneshot

Title: Night Time Air 

Notes:

·         Y/B/F: Your best friend

·         This was inspired by Season 5 Pretty Little Liars when Caleb and Alison are rocky and Alison tries to tell Hanna not to be with him, and she goes ahead and gets back together with him. 

·         Told you I would overuse this gif. 

·         I should be doing requestssssss

Plot: 

Chucky is the boy at your school, that is well known for all the bad things he has done. He has no respect for anyone except… maybe you… and he is unpredictable, which is exactly why your friend, your bitchy, not-really-your-friend, frenemy-that-you-only-spend-any-of-your-time-with-because-your-real-friends-like-her tries to order you not to hang out with him.

You don’t take it well.

Warnings: Language maybe? 

~~~

It takes a few seconds before I can clear my enough, and stop myself from jumping to the conclusion of what she’s trying to tell me. Demand of me. “What?”

“You shouldn’t hang out with him anymore. I mean, I know he’s pretty and everything,” With a roll of her eyeshadow heavy eyes, she tries to infer to me, that my friendship with Chucky is so skin deep. Again, I bite my tongue and stop myself from saying anything, but oh, are there things coming to mind that I wish I would say. “But he’s never been any good, since kindergarten. I’m just looking out for you, you know. You know that I love you.” Oh, sure.

My blood boils at her words, and the fake way she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows, the  touch she manages to land on my arm before I flinch away that makes me feel disgusting. She has to be aware that we are not friends, and there is no one else around so where does she get off saying this stuff to me. Demanding something, from me like she’s got any authority. “Maybe you didn’t sense my complete disbelief the first time through your hairspray; I understand chemicals can interfere with alien sensory technology. So, let me say it again. What?”

“Woho,” She laughs, but I see under the thin, unimpressive veil of counterfeit that completes her look of total bitch, that she was not expecting a snap back like that. “Wow, Y/N. No need to get salty… “

Something about the night air has made me confident tonight, for sure. Because at school, there’s no way I’d say these things to her. I’m glad I came out tonight! “I don’t know where you think you get the authority to tell me what to do, but you’re mistaken.” Nervously, I glance past her into Y/B/F’s house to see if they were looking at us, because the last thing I need is drama with the others after this, and then stonily back at Jane. “Tell the others whatever, I’ll set it straight tomorrow. I gotta go, I happen to know where Chucky’ll be tonight.”

She narrows her eyes and looks miffed, but I’m already turning around, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket and walking off down the street. God, I’m glad I said that. Its been dying to come out since I realised I didn’t like her in the first place- it might stir some trouble in our group, but its better she knows I don’t like her then to let her keep thinking she any control in my life. Besides, I’d kinda… I’d much rather go see Chucky then stay in and play forced Monopoly with her for the rest of the night, and wake up in the morning with moustache drawn on my face.

When I get to my destination, I don’t see him but I don’t get to wonder if he just hasn’t come to the playground tonight like he brags he does every night -like some edge master on the big screen,- because he calls my name and I turn around to see him walking over from another street. “What are you doing here?” He stops in front of me on the woodchips and stuffs his hands in his trench coat pockets, grinning down at me in a way that gives me the strangest feeling that he’s glad I’m here. “Thought you’d be… Ahhh, I dunno, enjoying skimpy girl sleepover activities? See, I listen to you. Unless I got the day wrong?” I wish we could move somewhere else, maybe walk around, but he’s just standing and looking at me with his grin like I’m a weeping angel.

Instead of staying there and talking about my run in with Jane, although I’m sure he’d love to hear about it -he doesn’t like her either. One of the many things we talk about when we’re together,- , I turn and head for the swing. “Skimpy girl sleepover activities? Sounds like you put some thought into that!” I tease, sitting in a swing and pushing off. There’s something very free, about playing on a playground when its dark, and no on else is around. I suddenly get why its such a popular teenage stereotype. Not too far out of my comfort zone like most adult things that I want to do or am being pushed to try, but still new.

He laughs. “Would’ve come by and visited if I knew where your girl friend lived.” Turning my head, I watch Chucky come around and get in the other swing, but not push off.

“You would’ve been disappointed. We had intensive plans to snuggle up in our skivvy’s and raincoats and watch Singin’ In The Rain. But I would’ve made room for you!” Which is true. I would. I definitely would. I’d love to ‘accidentally’ fall over and snuggle with him. Totally would. Any day. Yes.

Watching him grin to himself at my dumb joke gives me little tummy squirms, so I take a deep breath as I swing and look away. “Oh well. Glad I get you, tonight. They always seem to win your time.”

“They’re my best friends… “I say, falling backwards and feeling my hair fly after me, on either side of my face. Then turn and grin at Chucky, curiously. “You’ve never expressed any desire to hang with me more, before.”

“Well its not like I have many friends apart from you… “He trails off, but his face doesn’t reveal any sadness or forlorn desire to change that. I know, for a fact, that he doesn’t like anyone else at our school. He has nicknames for them all! And none flattering. He turns to me sharply, causing my heart to seize in my chest. Oh my god. “Custody agreements, how would I go about winning weekends with you?”

Rolling my eyes, I look away and keeping swinging, distracting myself from him. “Mm, payment’s a bit dear,” I mutter, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough to be a mutter to myself. I wanted to reply, but I don’t want him to hear the rest of that quip. Which is ‘Its you have to kiss me’.

Seems the night air isn’t just making me confidently mean, tonight…

“I bet… “He says back, not quite to me and under his breath, the same as how I said it. Then he gets up from the swing and looks around, shifty eyed. “Let’s walk around a bit.”

He looks bored, so I slow down the swing and pop off, not noticing he moved right in front of me until I’ve hopped right into him. “Nice going, pal! Smart move!” I exclaim sarcastically, and push out of his arms and away from his face, which is grinning cheekily and laughing.

“Dunno what you’re complaining for, I’m not the only one who got to second base just then! Wanna try for first?”

“You’re very funny.” I say, forcing an irritated tone through my smiling face. Its times like these, when I thank having a crush on such a loudmouth and tease. “As if.”  

“Yeahh, right. Whatever, come on.” He starts walking, scooping me up on the way, walking with his arm over my shoulders… like friends. Friends. This is friendly, I remind myself quickly. These moments, when he touches me and acts like we’re a couple, are when I curse having a crush on such a loudmouth and tease. We walk around the park, not leaving the gleam of the streetlights, but leaving the mulch of the playground for the grass surrounding it. After a while of conversation about school, and other kids in our class -never touching his father or mine, this night time playground acting as sanctuary, - , we hit a lull in the conversation, and I watch our feet wading through the luscious grass, due to excessive levels of rain recently. My fingers feel like icey poles. He hasn’t removed his arm from me the entire time we’ve been walking, though, so at least the rest of me is warm. “So, what happened to your sleepover anyway. Cancelled or did you blow them off?”

“Uh… I blew it off.” For you. Of course, I don’t utter the last words. Too much of a chicken shit to finish the deal, even feeling the night air on my cheeks.

“There’s my bad girl.”

“Hah,” Thank god, its too cold for my cheeks to heat up. I glance at his face, and do a double take. He’s waiting for the rest of the story! Uhhhhh… “Um, well, we… Jane said something annoying, you know.” Flashing him an awkward half-smile, I see he’s still waiting for the kicker and look away again, picking up his other hand and lacing my fingers through his, to distract me. “Here, warm my fingers up, they’re icey.” As his fingers willingly wrap around mine, I don’t have to glance to feel his look edging me on for the rest of the story. I sigh. “Well, she said something dumb about not wanting me to hang out with a certain bad boy loner type with yucky hair, and I didn’t feel like sticking around.”

“I’m gonna ignore the part about my great hair for the moment, because I’m too chuffed that you stuck up for me… “Remarkably, somehow, his voice is grinning, as he slows us immediately too a stop and moves to stand in front of me, loosening his arm around me just enough to do so, but not letting go so I’m kind of… well, I’m enveloped in him. I can smell his familiar shampoo and aftershave, and feel weirdly, wonderfully small in front of him, who is taller. Which is usually not too noticeably because he isn’t magnificently tall, but he is… 3 to 5 inches taller than me? And because we’re so close, you can tell.

Embarrassingly, I just stand there silently as he grins, and brings our linked hands up to his mouth, to tap a kiss to mine. What? What? WhAT! This is not… this cannot just be friendly, can it? I glance away from his blue-blue eyes, so I can gather my voice back. “Not a big deal.”

“Maybe not, but I like it.”

With nothing else to use my voice for, because I can’t think of anything else to say, I look back up at his, our hands still close to his mouth a grin on his lips. There, I decide to do something. I decide to make or break our friendships, to see what happens, to do something I want to try.

I decide to kiss him.

I tilt my head, and pull down our hands and close my eyes, not allowing for any second thoughts before I get up on my toes and hopefully touch his mouth with mine. I remember wondering what happens if I actually get his chin or his nose, before my lips connect with his and everything goes starry.

Because immediately like he was prepared for it, like that, he kisses back. Pulling me in comfortably with his arm and letting go of my hand so he can cup the side of my neck, his thumb resting on my jaw. I use my new freedom to bunch his coat in my fist, and bring him warmer to me. Not that it could get much warmer for me, with his mouth laying a long, soft kiss to me.

This is definitely the ideal outcome to my decision.  

“Took way too long for you to do that, sweetheart.” Is the first thing he says post-first-kiss, husky and quietly, against my lips as he looks from them to my eyes which is way too attractive a power for a teenage boy to have if you ask me, before kissing me again, this time deeper and with his tongue. All I can do is stand there and try my best to reciprocate the sheer, hot passion that somehow he’s able to convey to me without words, despite this being my first kiss, to the best of my mediocre abilities.

“I… didn’t know you were waiting for it,” I say, when he seems done for more then 2 seconds. A flash of a smile crosses his face, rolling his eyes.

“I wasn’t obvious enough for you??”

“No!”

“I said that I’m glad I get you tonight!”

“That’s code for ‘Kiss me’???”

“Yes!”

“Well, I’ll remember that now!”

He sighs in exasperation while smiling, which is good because I’m grinning too. “Do you wanna just make out some more?”

“Oh, yes, we shall. Good idea.”