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🎵🦉🌙 hihihi here are some funny images for u :3
🎵 (last song you listened to?): 920LONDON by ada rook! i still haven't heard the album yet but i snagged some time to watch the music video lol. it good, i might talk about it some more later :3
🦉 (morning person or a night owl?): def a night owl, i hate getting up sososo much. honestly for a long time i maintained a pretty solid sleep cycle, i would like go to bed early, sleep for ~9 hours, get up earlyish, it was crazy. now i've gone and fucked it up but it's okay i'm tired all the time either way so i might as well be balling
🌙 (how long have you been on tumblr?): about five years, one month, and three days (but who's counting?). i had no idea what i was getting into, an online acquaintance insisted i made an account because of how cool they thought the site was and then i never talked to that person again because this became my primary (and eventually only) social media
#hi violet hiiii <33#man i could talk about that a lot actually. i was using a different social app avidly for a couple of years before this#(and that's it's own long sequence of stories)#and then i made this account and was like okay. what do i do though.#spent a couple years continuing to be cringe as fuck before growing up a little#i was really scared of interacting with people bc of some not good interactions i had on Previous App but i eventually made some mutuals#(hello mutuals)#and now i've spent the last two years being funny as fuck. and the whole time i've been constructing my entire personality around my#presence on this website. which is very healthy of me i'd say#+ s/o leaf with whom i have been mutuals since we were like fifteen. wild#*char noises*#char asks
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Ok, I have a lot...from everything. Lot to say, a lot thought..
First...Still.. Holy Fuck!! I can't believe it! I waited for this from the beginning! Omg! 10 years from my life! WOW! AND THEY DID IT!! THANK YOU! I watched the last episode yesterday and I couldn't stop myself and I keep going back to that scene. After I watched the episode, after I ate, after I went to bath, before I went to sleep, after I wake up, after I brushed my teeth.. I think by now I spent hours to rewatch this scene... Holy fuck I'm insane... And now?! I can wait them to continue their journey as a couple .. Go on silly dates, make idiot couple cringe jokes to each other.. Beat Salem and grow old together and have a little farm where they will spent their days... Maybe having children together... I just can't express how happy I'm... And I'm sooo soooo glad that CRWBY was SO brave that they didn't leave things for the last part, the last episode, and we really can see them together as a healthy cute couple. IT WAS PERFECT!!! No.. IT'S PERFECT!!!
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I am sorry for my earlier question regarding Nicasia… It was not meant for discourse baiting… but she is a very unsympathetic character in my view…. But I did not mean to discourse bait. I am genuinely curious why you find sympathy for Nicasia….
first, i'll give you the general disclaimer: i'm not really in the business of defending villains because 1) they don't need saving (that's the great thing about them), 2) it's not my job to make you like them, and 3) there are so many villains in TFOTA, if i spent my time trying to defend every single one to you, i'd be going through almost the entire cast of characters (and probably sound like a broken record by the end of it).
nobody wants that.
so, if you're here with an open mind, i'll give you some points that are more specific to Nicasia's character and why i've grown to like her. if you're not interested in hearing a defence for her character, keep scrolling, this is not the post for you.
a. i'll be the first to admit that i didn't truly like Nicasia until i came up with Nicaryn.
so i'm aware part of my sympathy for her is purely self-indulgent. which is fine. i'm allowed to like a character "just because".
i want to believe there is a world where her and Taryn could end up together, and i know that would never happen if Nicasia continued on her trajectory of being a massive dick to everyone.
but obviously Nicaryn isn't for everyone, and they certainly aren't canon (even if it just makes sense), so i won't use the ship as a main talking point.
1. i sympathise with Nicasia precisely because she is so young and so flawed. these are the qualities we can relate to.
think about it. everything else about Nicasia is entirely unrelatable. ethereal beauty, immortality, royalty. hell, the girl can grow a fish tail and breath underwater. but an ethereally beautiful, immortal mermaid princess who is still subject to making erroneous decisions, behaving erratically, and having selfish motives?
somehow, that makes her character less far fetched. somehow, that is relatable.
the most we know about her is that she comes from a cold harsh place with a cold harsh mother who would use her daughter as a political pawn for her own agenda. but Nicasia is also a teenager who has recently had her heart broken. what is more relatable than young love lost?
and if it wasn't truly love that broke her heart, it was probably the feeling that she has failed her mother and her kingdom by ruining her chances with Cardan that broke it. either way, if you've never had your heart broken before, let me tell you how it goes:
it makes you go insane. and not in a sexy way.
when we're young, and full of a riot of emotions and hormones, we make mistakes. we act in horrid awful ways that make us cringe. being young and full of hormones doesn't excuse us from the mistakes we make. but it doesn't make us any less deserving of love or any less capable of change/growth, either.
if you can't sympathise with being young and overwrought and fucking up, then i have to conclude you've either never done anything wrong (and are lying to yourself if you think that's true), or you haven't yet viewed your 17-20 year old self through the rear-view mirror of life. in which case, you either have to take my word for it, or wait a couple years for Nicasia to truly make sense to you.
2. more importantly, i don't care much about what Nicasia did to Jude in the Undersea or at school.
i care more about Jude and how those things made her feel and how she overcame the things Nicasia did to her.
were Nicasia's actions fucked up? absolutely. but if you haven't noticed, this entire series is about fucked up things happening to fucked up people in a fucked up little world.
just because we have one (fictional) character's very biased (fictional) perspective, doesn't mean other (fictional) things aren't happening to the other (fictional) characters at the same time. there are many sides to this (fictional) story we haven't seen.
do you get where i'm going with this? it's fiction. these people/places/events, as much as we might wish them to be real, are not real. so morals should have nothing to do with appreciating a character.
reading fiction, liking fiction, or liking fictional characters does not equate to condoning their actions irl. my enjoyment of a character does not say anything about who i am as a person. just because your fictional friends jump off a bridge doesn't mean you're going to do it irl, right? realising this is a fundamental part of critical reading.
it is very dangerous rhetoric to presume that a person's fictional preferences reflect anything of their real life ones.
3. to wrap this up, cos i'm honestly getting a little bored hearing myself speak on this topic, one of the very big reasons i like Nicasia is her potential for growth.
like so many of the characters in TFOTA, Nicasia is flawed. so, so flawed. which makes her interesting. if you like perfect characters in perfect worlds where everything aligns to your personal morals and is "for the greater good", i'm sorry to say this probably isn't the series for you.
instead of judging Nicasia et. al. for doing the things they do, i ask myself "why do they do this?", and i am happy to report that thinking of the text through a curious lens, rather than a judgemental one, has never failed to increase the enjoyability of my reading experience by at least ten-fold.
the imperfect state of Nicasia's character lends itself very well to the potential for change and the makings of another story.
we even see towards the end of QON, when Jude asks Nicasia for help, Nicasia does not scorn her. she gets down on her knees and begs Jude to save Cardan. the princess of the Undersea. begs. she tells Jude how much Cardan loves her. Nicasia. who was once jealous and heartbroken enough over Cardan so as to shoot one of his alleged dalliances. she willingly attests to his love for another person—for Jude, whom she hated.
now, i don't think anyone would say we should be worshipping at Nicasia's feet for being humble for 2.5 seconds. and we can certainly still be wary of her in the future. but i think it points to a fact of growth that people don't like to see, much less commend. growth is slow, it is clumsy, it is not all at once. it's concerning how people only want to see the final product, instead of all the messy steps in between.
besides, just think– if every character were polished smooth by moral superiority at the end of every story, there would be no more stories left to tell.
–Em 🖤🗡
more theories & analysis
#gorgeous gorgeous girls read and understand Oscar Wilde's Preface to The Picture of Dorian Gray 😌#asked and answered#fantasyfox10123#tfota#jurdan#nicasia#the folk of the air#jurdannet#the cruel prince#the wicked king#the queen of nothing#holly black#my analysis
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Life As We Know It {Chapter 14}
Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.
Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.
Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby’s blogs! >>@snelbz
Life As We Know It Masterlist
Shelby’s Masterlist
Tara’s Masterlist
Cassian was up far before Nesta, but that was to be expected.
He had worn her out, after all.
In all honesty, though, she had worn him out, too. And he sure as hell wasn’t complaining.
It had taken him a while to fall asleep the night before, to fully digest everything that had happened between the two of them. He didn’t regret it, not for a second, but it was…strange. Nesta Archeron was the last woman he thought he’d find himself in such a situation with.
It had been a pleasant surprise, to say the least. Even when he had finally fallen asleep, it was all he dreamt about.
His hands on her body.
The little sounds that fell from her lips.
The feeling of his mouth against hers.
The feeling of being inside of her.
Dressing, he crept downstairs, not wanting to wake her, and made a pot of coffee. Sitting at the kitchen table, he ran a hand through his messy hair.
Cassian had no idea what was going to come this morning. Was she going to pretend it never happened? Was she going to be mad or say that it was a mistake?
He sure as hell hadn’t thought it was a mistake. He’d loved every minute of the night they’d shared, but he knew that a line had been crossed between them.
He was going to let her decide what would come next.
It wasn’t two minutes after Cassian pulled a pan of crispy bacon out of the oven, he heard a door open at the top of the stairs. He smirked, but felt a sense of dread as footsteps slowly descended towards the kitchen.
Nesta appeared, dressed in long-sleeved flannel pajamas. She stopped in the doorway and cleared her throat.
“I made breakfast,” Cassian said, gesturing to the display on the countertop.
“Thanks,” Nesta said, scratching the back of her head.
“Care to join me at the table?” he asked.
Nesta hesitated, then nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”
Cassian said nothing more as he made her a plate, then himself one, and carried them to the table. He was already popping a piece of bacon into his mouth when Nesta sat.
“So,” Cassian began. “How are you?”
“Good,” Nesta answered, a little too quickly. “You?”
“Good,” Cassian said, nodding.
Silence ensued.
They ate quietly. Cassian glanced at Nesta from time to time. Nesta did the same. Eventually, Cassian dropped his fork on his plate and ran a hand through his hair.
“Alright, this is ridiculous,” he said.
Nesta raised a brow. “What is?”
“This awkwardness,” Cassian said, laughing quietly. “I mean, we fucked, right?”
Nesta nearly choked on a piece of bacon. “We….”
“Had sex,” Cassian finished. “We did, and you know what? It was good. But when we went to bed, it was awkward. And this morning? Still awkward. Why is it awkward?”
“Because we had drunk sex,” she said, laughing, despite herself. “We got drunk and we hooked up, like horny teenagers and…” She shook her head, and looked up at him. And she burst out laughing.
“And we’re adults,” he said, laughing along with her. “We made that choice. I liked that choice. I’d make that choice again.”
Nesta’s laughter quieted. “I know. I don’t either, but…”
Cassian took a drink of his coffee, smirking. “Was it not the best sex of your life?”
Nesta began blushing, and she bit her lip as she moved the eggs around her plate. “I plead the fifth.”
“That’s a cop-out answer,” Cassian said, his mouth full.
Nesta laughed. “So what?”
Cassian’s grin said plenty. “Fair enough. I mean, it was a one time thing, right?”
“Right,” Nesta said, without any hesitation. “So, there’s no need to feel awkward, right?”
“Right,” Cassian agreed. “We were letting off some steam, some stress, and now we’re fine.”
“Exactly,” Nesta said, scooping up a mouthful of eggs.
That silence resumed.
A few minutes later, Nesta said, “It was pretty good, though.”
Cassian chuckled. “Oh, I know.”
She kicked his shin beneath the table.
His grin widened.
“What do you have going on today?” Cassian asked, at last.
“Work,” Nesta answered, simply. “You’ll pick Nyx up?”
“I will,” he promised.
“Great,” she said, taking a drink of her coffee. She glanced at the clock and jumped to her feet. “Shit, I need to go get ready.”
“Go,” he chuckled, shooing her off. “I’ll handle the kitchen.”
She glanced around at the room, which was still a wreck from the night before. Her bikini top was looped over one of the drawer pulls and she blushed.
She couldn’t believe it.
She had sex with Cassian, her sworn enemy for years.
And the most surprising thing of all? She had liked it.
A lot.
He hadn’t been lying when he said it would be the best sex of her life. There was no comparison, whatsoever.
Even waking up after a fantastic night of sleep, Nesta still felt amazing. She was relaxed, albeit a bit sore. Nearly giddy.
And all because of Cassian.
*
Since the accident, Nesta hadn’t spent nearly as much time at the restaurant as she usually did. And not nearly as often as she liked. Her staff had absolutely understood that she needed to get accustomed to her new life and how things worked, but as she hurried between the dining room and the kitchen, she couldn’t help but feel like she was in a bit over her head.
Granted, her mind kept trailing back to the activities she’d had the night before, which flustered her to no end every time she thought about them. She was staring at an open laptop in front of her, the PDF of the new menu staring back, when she heard a throat clearing from the doorway of her office.
She glanced up and found Helion standing there. He was her general manager and made sure everything ran smoothly when she wasn’t there, and he was a blessing in her life.
“What’s up?”
He looked around before slipping into the chair across the desk from her. “You going to tell me what’s got you spacing out so badly today that you mixed fresh salmon into the chicken salad base?”
Nesta cringed, but tried not to show it. “I wanted to try a new recipe. If it bombs, it bombs.”
Helion lifted a brow, not believing her lie for a second.
“What?” Nesta asked.
“Did the walk of shame this morning, did you?” He asked, a familiar mischievous glint in his eye.
Nesta hesitated. “Is it still a walk of shame if you never leave your house?”
Helion’s brows furrowed but then the dots connected. His mouth fell open as his eyes widened. “You fucked the hot uncle?”
Nesta groaned, her face falling into her hands.
Helion had no sympathy. He asked, “Is he the one that’s sitting at the bar asking for you?”
Nesta’s hands fell and she met Helion’s eye.
Helion shrugged. “Didn’t think I just came back here to chat, did you?”
“I…” Nesta was up before she could even think through what she might say to him, rounding her desk and hurrying towards the front of the restaurant.
She wasn’t sure if Cassian’s mid-day appearance was a good thing or not. On one hand, he may have stopped by with Nyx after picking him up from Elain’s. On the other, what if something was wrong? What if Nyx had had a bad night or something had happened? Her steps slowed and she paused before she left the kitchens, taking a deep breath.
Nothing was wrong. She wouldn’t accept any other answer. Tucking her loose hair behind an ear, she pushed through the door.
But she didn’t find Cassian sitting at the bar.
It was Balthazar, whose brown eyes she met and her smile faltered, but only a little. She had it back in place before he had time to notice.
“Figured out how I recognized you,” he said, as she approached from the other side of the bar.
“I see that,” she laughed, softly.
“Turns out I come here often,” he continued, his smile growing. “Turns out, so do you.”
“I would say I make an appearance here from time to time,” she agreed. “So, stop in for lunch?”
“I had the day off,” he explained, shrugging. “Errand day.”
She was just now noticing the designer sweatpants and hoodie he wore. His sneakers alone probably cost a couple hundred dollars.
Apparently the rumors were true…
Doctors made good money.
“And this was on your list?” Nesta asked.
Bal chuckled. “Well, last night I got to thinking that I’ve seen you here once or twice. It just clicked. So, I googled the restaurant, and, believe it or not, the owner’s picture is on the website.”
“Huh,” Nesta chimed. “Funny.”
“Mhmm,” Balthazar crooned. “I thought so. So, I thought I’d come visit and, yeah, maybe stay for lunch.”
“Well, lucky for you, the lunch special of the day is the prime dip, and I must say that it’s absolutely delicious,” Nesta said.
He closed the menu on the bar top in front of him. “Sounds perfect.”
“Give me just a minute to get that for you, and I’ll be right back. Can I get you something to drink?” She asked, sliding the menu below the bar.
“Drink drink or just to drink?” He asked and his smile did strange things to her stomach.
“Oh, I don’t have a liquor license,” she said, scrunching her nose. Too many hoops to jump through, but she would have loved to serve wine with her food. The pairings she would come up with were tempting. “Water, your everyday sodas, and homemade fruit teas.”
“Fruit tea, huh?” He tapped a contemplative finger against his chin.
She couldn’t have stopped the grin if she tried. “Has that piqued your interest?”
“Depends on what flavors you have,” he said, folding his arms across the bar. “I’m very choosy about my fruit tea.”
She laughed, quietly. “Mango, raspberry, strawberry, and passion fruit.”
“Passion fruit,” he repeated. “I like the sound of that.”
“Okay,” Nesta said, quietly with a little smile she couldn’t stop, and hurried back to the kitchen.
Helion was waiting for her behind the swinging door, grinning from ear to ear.
“Not him,” Nesta said, sweeping past him.
“Still handsome!” Helion called after her.
Nesta ignored him, not wanting to give him too much information on her current man-drama, even though she could tell he was far too invested in her private life.
After putting his order in, Nesta was heading back into her office and shutting herself inside, if only to shut out Helion.
When she had rounded the corner and saw it wasn’t Cassian, there was the tiniest bit of disappointment that she had to quickly push away. Then again, it also meant that everything had apparently gone okay with Nyx, which Nesta was happy about.
She and Cassian had been a one time thing.
Yes, they had called a truce, but it didn’t mean anything more than them being civil with one another. It meant co-parenting. Maybe even one day becoming something that resembled friends…but nothing more.
She tried to focus on the proof of the menu she was editing, tried to pay attention to the descriptions she typed out and the pictures she selected as focal points. But after she ended up choosing the wrong picture three times in a row, she closed her laptop and sighed, letting her face fall into her hands. She was distracted and she genuinely couldn’t tell if it was due to the man sitting out at the bar or if it was thanks to the one at home.
Balthazar’s order was up, and Nesta was delighted to find that someone, most likely Helion, had brought him his tea. When she set his plate down in front of him, his tongue swept across his bottom lip, and Nesta couldn’t help but notice.
“This looks amazing,” he said.
“And your tea?” Nesta asked.
“Pretty good,” he grinned.
Damn his smile. Every time he smiled, Nesta couldn’t help but smile back.
“Well, it was great seeing you,” Nesta said, and she meant it. “I should get back to work, though, I’m pretty booked.”
“Of course,” he said, understandingly. “I get it. I did want to ask you, though, if you were free on Saturday night?”
It was only a few nights away, and at first, Nesta hesitated, but then she thought it was ridiculous that she was hesitating, so she said, “Yeah, I’m free.”
“Good,” Bal said, cocking his head to the side. “How about that date, then?”
“I’ll have to check with Cassian,” she said, and when his eyebrows raised, she added hastily, “To make sure he doesn’t already have plans. It’s- We alternate who gets weekends off, and I made a deal with him last weekend.”
Balthazar nodded, and he took another sip of his tea. “Well, then you just let me know if Saturday will work and if not, we’ll figure out another day.”
She smiled and nodded. “Okay.” Nesta turned and was almost back to the door leading to the kitchen when she turned and said, “Lunch is on me today, by the way.”
His own smile was dazzling when he said, “My compliments to the chef.”
With a shy wave, though Nesta wasn’t sure she had a timid bone in her body, she was through the door and headed back to her office. Helion was on her heels a second later, trailing her through the doorway.
“One minute, you’re banging the hot uncle and the next, a Greek god asks you out on a date?” He said, his brows flicking up. “You apparently have fate on speed dial and I need you to give me her number.”
“Shut up,” she groaned, collapsing into her chair. “Don’t you have orders to help cook?”
He hummed quietly as he left her to her thoughts, but did as she said, finding his way back onto the grill line.
Nesta glanced over at the clock. Only two in the afternoon. It was going to be a long day.
*
Nyx blew a raspberry, landing a spray of sweet potato directly on Cassian’s face. His body stilled, but when Nyx started giggling, Cassian’s body quickly relaxed.
“Very funny,” he said, ruffling Nyx’s hair as he stood and went to the sink. After tearing a paper-towel off the roll, he held it under the faucet and wiped off his face.
The front door opened and closed.
“Hello?” Nesta called.
“Kitchen!” Cassian replied. “Nyx is making a mess!”
Nesta was in the kitchen in no time, hurrying to Nyx and kissing his chubby cheeks. “Hi, my love. I missed you. Yes, I did.”
Nyx babbled incoherently in response.
“How was your day?” Cassian asked, wiping off the last bit of potato from his eyebrow.
“Long,” she admitted. “Right before I was about to leave, a shipment of fresh ingredients came in that I needed to get stocked and inventoried.” She dumped a few of the strawberry-banana puffs into her hand and popped one of them into her mouth. “If I have to count another head of lettuce today, my head might explode.”
“Well, fortunately,” Cassian chuckled. “There are no heads of lettuce here for you to count.”
“Have you eaten yet?” She asked, heading for the fridge. “I’m starving.”
“There’s pizza on the way,” he said, attempting to get another spoonful of sweet potatoes into Nyx’s mouth. “I wasn’t sure when you’d be home, or if you’d feel like cooking.”
“You’re a blessing,” she sighed, and sat down at the kitchen table. She watched as Nyx continued to spray food into his face and chuckled quietly. “You want me to take over?”
“Nah,” he said, leaving the splattered sweet potato where it stuck to his face. “No need for both of us to get covered.”
“How gallant of you,” Nesta chuckled, opening the fridge and pulling out a can of Coca-Cola. She rarely did caffeine, but after the day she had, it was necessary. “I, um, did have a question for you.”
Cassian looked over his shoulder, brow raised.
Nesta couldn’t help but smile at the specks of sweet potato that covered his face.
“I was wondering if I could go out Saturday night,” Nesta said. “I mean, I know last weekend I went out, and I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness-.”
“With the doctor?” Cassian interrupted. His tone wasn’t hard, but it did seem uncertain, or another emotion that Nesta couldn’t quite place.
“Yeah,” Nesta began, cracking open her can. “He came by the restaurant today and asked me to dinner on Saturday night. I told him I’d have to talk to you about it first, since I said I’d have Nyx.”
“I see,” Cassian said, turning back to Nyx.
“If it’s an issue, if you have plans, I don’t mind telling him no-.”
“You should go,” Cassian said, shrugging. “I have no plans. I can stay here.”
She blinked, watching him. “You’re sure?”
“You sound like you don’t want me to be sure,” he said, glancing at her over his shoulder. “Are you looking for a reason to say no?”
“No,” she replied, quickly. “It’s just… After last night-.”
“We hooked up,” he shrugged. “We blew off some steam, in a very physical way. But that was that, and, like we said this morning, it was a one time thing, yeah?” She nodded. “Alright, then if you want to say yes, say yes. I can watch Nyx.”
She hesitated for a second, but her smile grew. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeated, and gave her a smile of his own. “Go relax for a bit, I’ll let you know when the pizza is here.”
She nodded and was about to head up the stairs, but she turned around, wiping the smeared baby food off his face and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, Cass.”
He mumbled something and waved her off, and she grabbed her phone from her purse before she hurried up to her room.
After changing out of her work clothes and into something far more comfier, she fell back on her bed and unlocked her phone.
Balthazar’s messages were soon pulled up, and Nesta was sending him a text.
Saturday sounds great. Pick me up at 7?
She didn’t wait for his response before tossing her phone aside and going through her nightly routine. She figured she would eat and call it a day.
She was beat.
After washing her face and pulling up her hair, Nesta walked back into her room just as her phone lit up on top of her comforter.
Balthazar.
I won’t be a second late.
#nessian#nesta#cassian#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acosf#fanfic#fanfiction#nesta x cassian#cassian x nesta#shacmc lawki#collab#snelbz x tacmc#sjm
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Piano Man - USWNT x Reader
Reader is nervous her first camp and is incredibly shy with the team. She opens up after she relaxes while playing the piano she finds in the hotel.
Note, I have already decided it will be two parts, but I needed to cut this first part off before I got out of control. It’s also tentatively a Lindsey Horan x Reader, so let me know your thoughts on that.
Note 2.0, anon who sent this, hope this surpasses expectations.
Sonnett paused in the doorway, listening to the soft melody floating through the large, empty ball room. Y/N flew over the keys of the piano with ease, her eyes closed, playing the song by memory and feel alone. Emily stepped fulling into the room, the door closing behind her, the sound personified in the quiet room; the music immediately stopped, Y/N’s eyes shot to see the blonde cringing by the door.
“I’m so sorry Y/N,” Sonnett rushed out, her voice echoing in the now silent room.
“Oh no Emily, I am sorry. I did not mean to wake you up,” Y/N shook her head, now resting her hands in her lap, eyes cast down.
“Ugh it’s still so weird you only use our first names,” Sonnett chuckled as she approached the younger woman at the piano.
“I’m Ms. Sonnett,” Y/N’s eyes flashed briefly to the blonde before they went back to her lap.
“Nope, that’s worse!” Sonny slid onto the piano bench, pushing her shoulder against Y/N.
“I, oh,” Y/N paused, brow creasing while she tried to figure out how to respond to the blonde defender.
“I’m kidding Y/N, you can call me whatever you want, it’s just going to take some getting used to,” she placed a soft hand on Y/N’s fidgeting fingers.
Y/N nodded her head, hands pausing, “I’m not used to using nicknames or informal use of last names. It’s always been sir or ma’am, Mr. or Ms.”
“It’s alright Y/N, I was kidding, people just never call me Emily except my mom. Lots of people on the team mostly go by nicknames or last names. But if using those makes you uncomfortable, people will get used to it,” Sonnett soothed, rubbing her hand on Y/N’s back. “You’re really good at piano by the way,” she motioned to the piano in front of them.
“Thank you,” Y/N blushed, “I have played since I was little. Playing was supposed to help my dexterity to become a surgeon.”
“You were going to be a surgeon?” Sonnetts eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“According to my parents I was. Dad is a cardiothoracic surgeon, mom is a obstetric and gynecological surgeon. I was supposed to be neurosurgeon.” “Dude, that’s,” Sonnett paused, “how do they feel about you playing soccer?”
“They, I, we,” Y/N stuttered, “We haven’t spoken since I moved to Arsenal. But last we talked; they really weren’t happy at the idea of it.” She looked down ashamed, “they won’t talk to me until I have M.D. attached to my name.”
“I am so sorry Y/N,” Sonnett rubbed her hand up and down Y/N’s back.
“My life was pretty much planned out before I was even conceived. Soccer was never meant to be part of the plan. I got lucky, though, NCAA division one athlete sounded really good to them,” Y/N shrugged, “my parents loved it when Stanford offered me a full ride.”
Sonnett just continued to nod along, resting a hand on her thigh. Understanding why Y/N had seemed so distant to everyone the first couple days at camp. That she was still working to figure out who she was, fighting against so much of her upbringing. “You should be proud of yourself Y/N. Play me something, then let’s go back to bed.”
Y/N gave the defender a large grin, bringing her hands up to keys and playing a beautiful song, a melody Sonnett couldn’t recognize but enjoyed. Y/N looked so relaxed, her fingers confidently moving across the keys.
As she finished, she brought her hands back to her lap, shy about the blonde’s reaction. “I’m sorry for over sharing a little bit.”
Sonnett tugged the younger woman up, to lead her back to their rooms, she kept a hand on the small of Y/N’s back, “you don’t need to apologize Y/N. You looked so relaxed when you played.”
“Piano was the only thing that made me feel completely at ease growing up. I used to hate it though, I resented it, resented that I was good at it. Then I had to practice more, so I just learned to accept that they had full control.” Emily pulled her into a hug as soon as they got into their room, “you can be whoever you want to be with the team Y/N. No one here is expecting you to anything except what you want to be here.”
Y/N tensed slightly in her arms. This was the most she had opened up to anyone, ever. Most people assume she is like her parents, arrogant and stuck-up, only focused on herself. She had spent her time at Stanford and now Arsenal trying embrace her true self, to feel her own feelings for once. It was slow, she was learning, she was developing herself. She knew who she wanted to be, how she wanted to act, but she needed to unlearn a lot of things engrained in her along the way.
“Thanks Emi- , Um, Sonnett,” Y/N shyly smiled at the defender as they both slid back into bed.
Y/N was quiet the next morning while she and Sonnett went down for breakfast. As they entered the banquet room, Y/N tried to pull away to an empty table in the back, but Emily tugged her towards her table. “Sit with us rookie,” Sonnett gave her a soft smile, reassuring her.
They both sat down, Sonnett quickly joined the conversation, Y/N sat quietly, just watching everyone around her.
“So Y/L/N,” Rose got her attention across the table, “ready for Sammy and I to come kick Arsenals ass after camp?”
Y/N’s perfect posture straightened up even more, eyes growing wide when she saw all eyes on her, “oh, um, I think it will be a good game.”
Rose rolled her eyes, turning next to Mal to continue a conversation. Y/N deflated, eyes dropping back to her plate, picking at her food.
“It’s aright dude,” Sonnett leaned over and whispered in her ear, “just relax, you’re over thinking it.”
Kelley watched the interaction, tilting her head to the side, trying to figure out their dynamic. Sonnett noticed the other defender watching them, she nodded to the shy girl next to her, trying to encourage her to join them.
“Hey Y/N, how is the first year at Arsenal?” Kelley caught on quickly.
“It is good, I am really liking it,” Y/N gave a very basic answer, “the transition from college to profession was a bit of a learning curve, but I think I’ve settled in quite well.”
“Someone was paying attention in media training,” Lindsey teased her.
Y/N blushed, looking down again.
“It’s alright kid, you don’t have to give us media answers, you can answer how you want,” Kelley reassured her.
Y/N turned to look at Sonnett, needing the reassurance, who nodded and encouraged her. Lindsey creased her eyebrows, it hadn’t been her intention to make the younger woman feel uncomfortable, she made a note to find the girl later to make sure she apologized.
As everyone filed out of the room, Kelley grabbed Sonnett arm, pulling her away from everyone. “Son, what the fuck was the that? It looked like Y/N hated every second of that.”
Sonnett looked around to see who was listening, “she didn’t hate it, she’s just figuring it out. She was forced into a box growing up, so she’s, like, finally getting to be herself.” Kelley nodded along. “Last night she told me about her parents, it kind of sounds like us. Lots of pressure from her parents to be something she isn’t, trying to fit her into their mold. Just keep your phone on tonight.”
Y/N snuck out of her room again later that night, Sonnett sat up in the bed, sending out a message to a few other players to join her.
The group met outside the large doors of the ball room Sonnett had found the younger woman in the night before.
“Just you know, don’t be jerks or anything,” Sonnett awkwardly instructed before easing the doors open.
As the doors opened, everyone heard the melody Y/N was playing on the piano tonight. They all eased into the room, doing their best not to disturb her while she played.
“I’m sorry I woke you up again Emily,” Y/N’s eyes opened, widening when she saw the amount of people there tonight.
“Eww it’s so weird hearing you called Emily,” Rose scrunched her face up.
“Yupp, Y/N’s a first name kind of person,” Sonnett smiled, sliding onto the bench like she had the night before.
Lindsey slid onto the other side, pushing a random key, “Okay, so that was good, but can you do you this?” the midfielder rolled her knuckles across the keys, playing the simple beginner song. Y/N didn’t hesitate, smiling and began playing the same tune on the other end of the keys.
“Alright Y/L/N, put Horan to shame, show us what real pianist can do,” Kelley teased. Y/N smiled at Emily, she knew what the defender was doing for her.
She took a breath, feeling the tension ease from her body, her fingers sliding effortlessly across the keys. The players all watched, mouths dropping, she was phenomenal.
It was the most relaxed they had seen the rookie since camp started, her jaw finally unclenched, her shoulders dropped down, the nervous energy that radiated off her was gone. Y/N played the last note, some of the nervous energy returning, her fingers fidgeted with each other in her lap. Tentatively glancing up, she saw the impressed expressions on every ones face, her eyes shot back to her lap, embarrassed at the attention.
Lindsey hesitantly reached a hand out, stopping the younger woman’s fidgeting fingers. “You are so good Y/N,” Horan tried to emphasize how impressed she was, how impressed everyone was with her.
“Thank you,” Y/N answered softly, feeling the heat rising up her neck.
“Seriously kid, that was incredible,” Kelley leaned against the side of the piano, everyone else following suit, coming closer to the timid rookie.
Y/N tried to resume her fidgeting, Lindsey held on tighter, rubbing her thumb across her knuckles. Emily bit her lip to watching the action.
“If this soccer phase doesn’t work for you, you could definitely play piano,” Rose tried to jokingly tease.
Y/N instantly tensed up at the wording, that soccer was a phase, that she would change her mind, that she would eventually do what her parents wanted.
This time she succeeded in pulling her hands out of Lindsey’s grasp. Everyone now noticing how tense she had become again, knuckles turning white in fists.
Lindsey let her hand fall to Y/N’s thigh, giving what she hoped was reassuring squeeze. Sonnett rubbed a hand up and down Y/N’s back, “she was kidding,” she leaned and whispered in her ear.
Everyone could feel the awkwardness in the room, Sonnett the only one with any idea of why the sudden change.
“Um, not that you have to worry about soccer not working, you’re kind of awesome at that too. Like, are you not good at anything?” Rose awkwardly back tracked, shooting Sonnett a look to try and figure out what she said to cause the tension to return in Y/N’s shoulder.
“Yea, umm, thank you Rose,” Y/N could feel the heat spreading from neck to her cheeks, stiffly nodding her head, keeping her eyes downcast.
“No seriously kid, you are fucking amazing. Burke needs to start kissing your ass to get you with us at Spirit. Rose is just jealous she’s not as cool as you,” Kelley flicked Rose’s ear next to her, Rose turned and smacked Kelley’s arm, the two beginning to jokingly swat each other’s hands.
Y/N flushed even more, feeling the heat all the way to the tips her ears now, she started to wring her hands together again. Lindsey slid her fingers between Y/N’s hands, allowing her to fidget with them. Y/N chanced a glance at the midfielder, biting her lip.
“Alright Y/L/N, what’s the deal? How are you amazing at piano and soccer? You’re supposed to get sports or arts, not both,” Ashlyn asked, genuinely interested.
“My parents pushed me to play when I was younger, it was supposed to help me be a future surgeon, increases finger dexterity,” Y/N mumbled quietly.
“Sorry, so you’re a professional soccer playing, pianist, doctor?” Lindsey’s thumb paused its movements. Everyone else’s eyebrows shot up; they had all seriously misunderstood the young player.
“I am definitely not a doctor, much to my parents disappointment,” Y/N shrugged, trying to hide how much that simple sentence alone hurt. Lindsey squeezed her hand.
“Well, they shouldn’t be, you’re incredible Y/N. You have worked for your goals, did what you wanted to do, are growing into an amazing athlete, and an amazing person. Be proud of who you are and what you’ve accomplished,” Kelley stopped wrestling Rose, eyes serious as she spoke to the younger player. She understood now why Sonnett had pushed the younger woman to engage with them this morning, and why she looked so uncomfortable. “I get it, we get it,” she motioned to the rest of the women around the piano.
Y/N brought her gaze up, hesitantly looking at each face, all of them showing sympathy, understanding, approval. She felt understood and these women hardly knew anything about her, but they wanted to. The women on either side of her offered physical comfort easily, neither of them realizing how much it meant, how touch starved she felt, how much she wanted to lean into the midfielder next to her.
“Like I said last night Y/N, you can be whoever you want to be here,” Sonnett squeezed her shoulder, gently pushing to Y/N to lean into Horan on the other side.
Lindsey felt the pressure against her shoulder, easing their hands apart, she slide her arm around Y/N’s shoulder, tugging her closer, reaching her far hand across the allow Y/N to grip it again.
Y/N released a breath, tension easing at the pressure Lindsey kept across her shoulders, her body sagged further into the midfielder. Lindsey let out her own breath, smiling to herself when she felt the younger woman relax at her presence.
Y/N suddenly felt exhausted, the relief coursing through her, a weight on her chest she didn’t know was there, gone. Lindsey tightened her grip when she noticed Y/N sage more into her side.
“Alright sweetie, I want to know more about the future doctor, but you look ready to pass out against the Great Horan there,” Ali shot the brunette a wink, causing her blush at being caught.
The pride player began to shoo everyone else out of the room, allowing Y/N to ease herself up from the piano bench. Ali could tell the younger woman felt embarrassed again, that she wasn’t used to people supporting her so effortlessly, that this unconditional support was new.
Lindsey trailed beside Y/N and Sonnett back to their room, she wanted the pressure of Y/N against her again, her hand in hers again.Sonnett slid into the room, making sure to push Horan into Y/N and giving her a pointed look, before closing the door behind her.
Y/N looked at the door confused, she was exhausted, she just wanted to sleep now. The interaction with the group had left her unexpectedly mentally exhausted.
“Hey, I just wanted to apologize for breakfast this morning,” Lindsey started, shifting in place, tucking her hands into sleeves to prevent herself from reaching out, at Y/N’s tilted head she continued, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable about your ‘media’ response. I should have gotten to know where you’re coming from.”
“You don’t need to apologize Lindsey, you didn’t say anything wrong, I shouldn’t have taken it so personal,” Y/N reassured.
Lindsey nodded along, biting her lip, “I would like to get to know more about you, and you give me all the media answers you want,” Y/N smiled. “and I know it’s been said lots tonight to you, but it’s true, you can be you here, you can take your time and figure it out too. They might all be overbearing sometimes, but they’re all here to help you.”
Now Lindsey did step forward just half a step, she couldn’t help being drawn to Y/N. Y/N bit her lip, she was trying to find the confidence to lean herself into Lindsey again, to ask her for a hug.
Thankfully, Horan saw the hesitation, and closed the distance herself, slowly reaching around the smaller woman and tugging in for a gentle hug, “don’t overthink it, be you, she seems pretty impressive.” she placed a delicate kiss to her cheek before pulling away.
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Beautiful Stranger || Minghao
artist!minghao x f!reader
w.c: 4.5k
warnings: angst, fluff, its a little suggestive, self doubts
notes: In celebration of my baby’s birthday I did a thing and I’m not sorry. Happy Birthday Hao!!!
Enjoy and let me know your thoughts.xx
masterlist
Xu Minghao is a beautiful mystery that was often left unsolved.
He prefers it this way.
Minghao realizes this after his first heartbreak. Then again after his second heartbreak. After his third, he decides to give up. If love wasn’t in the cards for him then why should he bend over backwards to reach it?
When he reached his twenties and everything spiraled out of control way too fast for his liking. He painted like his life depended on it because realistically in his universe it did. He got around using people for his pleasure and then left them out in the cold just like it had been done to him. Minghao didn’t have time for love, nor did he want it. He reserved his love for his canvases, paintbrushes, and different colors of monochromatic paints.
Then he met you.
His monochromatic colors were replaced by the sweet strawberry pink of your lipstick. His paint brushes swirled around his canvases to the melody of your laughter. Before he knew it a piece of you had infiltrated all of his paintings. Whether it was the exact shade of blue from the shirt you wore that day or the sparkling gaze behind your eyes that resembled his night sky.
He had fallen for you, for the girl that visited the university gallery every Wednesday morning to sit in front of his atrocious paintings that were unfortunately displayed as part of his final project before graduation.
At first, he never said anything, just watched you from afar wondering what thoughts were running through your head as you admired. Did you think his paint stroke pattern was lacking? Did you think he should’ve chosen other colors? Did you think his choice in reds was too dramatic?
Whatever you were thinking, it drove him insane not knowing.
He would pace for minutes before entering the gallery every Wednesday morning. Sometimes he hoped you wouldn’t be there so he could judge his own paintings in silence. His wishes never came true, as none of them ever did but it didn’t hurt to try.
“Are you stalking me?” You asked one Monday morning. After your fourth visit, you had noticed him silently walking around the gallery, sneaking glances at you from the peripherals of your eyes. At first you had assumed he was an art enthusiast like you, and admired the artwork that was displayed. Then you caught him waiting for you outside of the gallery one morning, only entering a few minutes after you had. It could’ve been just a coincidence that morning, but when it started happening more often it scared you.
So you changed your visiting dates. Opting for every Monday instead of Wednesday an hour later than your usual time. It had gone smoothly for a week until he caught on and that’s where you were now.
“Hello,” You waved your hand in front of his face, his features paralyzed in shock only until he caught sight of your hand. “Are you stalking me?
Minghao shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets, “N-No, I-I um...these are my paintings.” He shrugs and signals with his head around the four paintings that haunted him day and night.
“So, you’re telling me you’re the The8?” You ask in disbelief as Minghao cringes. There were days when he regrets choosing that as his pseudonym. After all, he was eight when he created it after coming home from his first art lesson. But letting go of it would be letting go of that little boy whose dreams were bigger than his body and he couldn’t disappoint him especially not now.
“Just Minghao is fine.” He nods and takes his hands out of his pockets before drying them against his jeans. “Do you actually like my paintings?”
You scoff before rolling your eyes, “No I just like sitting here.” Minghao’s face falls causing you to let out a shy laugh before shoving his shoulder away playfully, “I’m playing with you I love them actually.”
“Why?”
“That’s a stupid question the The8.” Minghao rolls his eyes before breaking out into a smile as he waits for you to continue. “They’re not peaceful, in fact, I sometimes find them overwhelming to look at but they bring me peace.” Minghao’s cheeks have never felt hotter than before, his heart is palpitating at an uneven time. No one has ever described his painting the way you have and he feels like he’s going to throw up.
“That’s a stupid reason.”
Minghao is now painting nonstop
“When are you going to paint me like one of your French girls?” You ask, chin on his naked chest as you draw patterns against the ridges of his stomach. You have no artistic talent but you love creating invisible masterpieces against his skin. He’s the only one that can see them and he loves it.
“I don’t have any French girls.” He rolls his eyes before sitting up against your headboard and grabbing his discarded boxers and putting them on. “And that’s not the quote.”
“Alright Titanic enthusiast, let me live out my fantasy.” You joke and Minghao laughs as he lays back down bringing you along with him. You pout, “When are you going to paint me?”
“Who says I haven’t already?” He smirks down at you and captures your lips with his in a slow sensual kiss. You sigh against his lips and pull him close, “I think you’re lying.”
“Impossible lying is a sin and I am a child of God.”
“And here you are consummating outside of marriage, God is disappointed in you Hao.” You peck his lips one last time before sitting up. You stand up taking your sheets along with you. Minghao stays laying down on your bed like it was his very own. He watches you closely, taking in the way your skin glows against the light of the rising sun. The way your hips dip when they meet your thighs and he can’t wait to go home again to his canvas, monochromatic paints, and paintbrushes.
If he knew that meeting you would cure his unfortunate art disease he would’ve tried a little harder to find you.
Six months ago his mornings consisted of him rushing out of bed, getting dressed as fast as possible so he makes it to the university art gallery before you. Now his mornings consist of him rushing out of bed, getting dressed as fast as possible to bring you breakfast before you leave for your morning class.
Most days though, you end up pinning him against your front door before he could mutter a ‘good morning’ to you. He doesn’t complain though, he loves the way your body melts against his. Like you were made for him, and fuck he loves it so much he wants to die.
If he were to believe in soulmates he would think you were his.
Minghao’s parents find out.
When he went away for university Minghao lied and told his parents he was studying business communications. He wasn’t sure if they had believed him or if he didn’t care but he had spent four years studying art without their knowledge. He was living in a peaceful fantasy not sure when he’d have to wake up and tell his parents the truth. That their trust fund had gone to a degree where nothing was guaranteed.
He guesses that time is now.
Minghao and you have officially been dating for two months. And he decides to take you home for Christmas.
At first you had declined, told him that he should spend Christmas with his parents and that you were fine staying on campus alone until New Years. Your parents had gone on a couples retreat. It was needed they weren’t doing so hot for years now so you didn’t mind. Minghao on the other hand wouldn’t take no for an answer and that’s how you ended up with him hand in hand on the front door step of his childhood home.
“I should’ve stayed Hao, what if they don’t like me?” You practically yell at a low volume. Minghao rolls his eyes and brings your palm up to his lips. He leaves behind a reassuring kiss before ringing the doorbell again.
“It’s impossible to dislike you. By the end of the night they’ll probably like you a lot more than me.” He reassures bumping his shoulder against yours lightly. You stumble a little and Minghao pulls your hand to keep you from falling. His arm comes to your waist and he’s about to kiss you when the front door falls open. The two of you caught, the guilt rushing towards your faces as his parents stare back at the two of you with wide smiles.
“Don’t stand out there for too long, you'll catch a cold.” His mother's soft voice sounds and wraps around the warm porch light. They open the door further, Minghao’s grip on your hand gets tighter as he pulls you into his home. The warmth wraps around you like a protective blanket and you find yourself never wanting to leave.
For the remainder of the night until dinner Minghao doesn’t leave your side. His hand is on you at all times whether it’s on your arm, or appropriately placed against your back. His mother shows you around the small but big enough for their tiny family house, while his father finishes dinner in the kitchen. When the three of you reach Minghao’s childhood room you feel the tears brimming in your eyes.
His walls were covered with paintings he had made while growing up and seeing them displayed makes you feel proud. You see the improvement and growth in every single one as they’re sequenced by years. Your favorite one is the one he painted when he was thirteen. He notices you lingering on that one for longer than usual as his mother’s voice echoes off his navy blue walls. He never understood what it was about his art that made you forget the world around you, and you never once could explain why to him without changing the subject right away. He just hopes that one day he can get it out of you to understand your admiration.
“You like it?” Minghao whispers in your ear and it makes you jump. He chuckles as his arms find their way around your waist, the panic rushes through you at the speed of light.
“Minghao your mo-“
“Dad called her down to help, it’s just us right now.” He kisses your cheek and stays there before trailing soft kisses down your neck. He kisses it lightly, the goosebumps appearing against your arms. “This was a mistake I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
You go frigid against his chest, as he continues to kiss down your neck until it reaches your sweet spot. “W-Why?” You move your head to the side, giving him more room. He smirks, sucking the spot he’s memorized like it were his color theory notes.
“I’m immorally thinking of every single way I can have you falling apart while my parents are downstairs.”
“Dinner is ready!”
You should’ve kept your mouth shut, that was a problem you always had and it never resulted in anything good.
Somewhere in the midst of dinner you had briefly mentioned your love for Minghao’s artwork and how proud you were that his paintings were being displayed at the University gallery. But you hadn’t known that Minghao had lied and never told his parents what exactly he was studying.
“We’ve been paying for a useless degree?” His father forcefully drops the fork against his plate, a loud clang sounds through the small dining room.
“It’s not useless, it's what I love.” Minghao fights back and stands up, “This is why I didn’t tell you, I knew you wouldn’t approve.” He pushes in his chair, hitting the table making you and his mother jump.
“Of course we wouldn’t, you’re never going to get anywhere in life with an art degree. I didn’t raise you to be a lowlife artist.”
“You barely raised me at all.” Minghao tugs at his roots, he sends you a glare and leaves the room. The tension evident in the room and you don’t know if you should stay seated or follow him. When you hear the front door shut and you go with the latter.
“I-I’m sorry, dinner was amazing.” You stood up and pushed your chair in carefully. You knew you should’ve stayed home, but that was before when you feared his parents weren’t going to like you. Now you should’ve stayed home because your big mouth was always causing trouble.
You made your way around Minghao’s house as fast as you could and walked out forgetting about your coat and purse.
The bone chilling cold gives you whiplash as soon as you walk out. Your eyes land on Minghao, his foot tapping impatiently against the snow covered ground. He’s looking at head into the dead of the night while a cigarette burns in between his fingers. You knew he smoked but he had reassured you it wasn’t a problem and he only did it to relieve himself of all the unnecessary stress. He had stopped though, when you had become his stress reliever instead, but now you were the cause of his stress.
“I-I’m sorry I didn’t know.” You hugged yourself in a poor attempt to keep yourself warm. Minghao scoffed and brought the white stick up to his lips. His eyes closing in pleasure as he takes a long drag. “If I had known I wouldn’t have sai-“
“Sometimes I wish you would just stay out of my business.” He huffed. He flicks his finished cigratte onto the ground and crushes it beneath his boot. “You had no business in telling them.” He sends you a glare and shakes his head in disappointment. You feel the tears start to well in the corner of your eyes and you dig your nails into your arms to keep yourself from letting them go.
“I didn’t know. What was I supposed to do?” You throw your hands up in the air. You were frustrated with the situation and upset with yourself. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go, but you always managed to ruin every good thing that came into your life. And this was no different.
“I don’t know, not say anything.”
“I just wanted to show them that I don’t care what you do because I’ll support you no matter what.” You sigh, a shiver goes through your spine as he stands up. You take a step back, the look in his eyes giving the bitter winter cold a run for its money.
“I don’t want it.”
Minghao misses you.
Since Christmas he hasn’t been able to paint anything. His mind keeps going back to the look of hurt on your face as soon as the words left his mouth. The tears that fell when you walked down the steps of his porch, shivering, out into the freezing cold. He didn’t run after you because he was afraid you finally saw him for who he was. Someone that was undeserving of your heart of gold. But he stayed and smoked two more cigarettes before walking into his childhood home.
Minghao hasn’t spoken to you in three weeks and tries to fill the void with his cigarettes, to let the poison smoke consume his entire body. Every time he finishes a pack in one sitting he feels even more disgust towards himself.
He wonders if he should call you and apologize for that night. His mind constantly tells him no while his heart continues to yearn for you. He misses your delicate touch burning his skin, he misses getting lost in your soft eyes. He misses your voice and how it sounds like a warm melody even when you’re upset. He misses you like crazy that he feels like he’s losing his life.
The blank canvas before him laughs at him, his constant frustration with himself grows as the night envelops his makeshift studio in his tiny apartment. He needs to paint. He needs one more painting before graduation, one more and he'll be out of the educational art cuffs. One more and he’ll be free to do whatever he wants. But he just can’t because all he sees is you, your hurt, the greyscale of his cigarette smoke and the bright light of his phone as his thumb hoovers over your contact name.
He almost lets himself cave in too. If it wasn’t for the soft knocks on his front door he would’ve finally called. He feels the blood go up to his ears as he realizes the time. No one in their right mind would show up at his front door at two in the morning. Unless it was you.
He lets his feet carry him towards his door. Minghao knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up but had always been a hopeful kid no matter how many times his hope had been knocked down. He takes a deep breath, his long fingers wrapping around the door handle and he rips it open like a two day old band aid. Your tired eyes meet his miserable ones for the first time in three weeks and he feels like he can breathe again.
“I-I...um...come in.” He steps aside scratching the back of his neck. His hair was getting long again. He usually would’ve cut it by now, but you had once told him you loved how boyish it made him look. So he keeps it.
“I’m here to pick up my stuff.” You walk past him. Your oversized hoodie swallows you whole and he can’t help but want to feel your warmth against him. He stays put in his side of the room taking in your appearance, your hair was a different color, a lighter shade than the one he had last seen you in. He loves it. “Minghao my stuff please, I’m tired and want to go home.”
Minghao panics and he closes the space between the two of you, his arms find their way around you and pulls you close. “Don’t leave please, I’m a coward who’s scared and I lo-I-I’m just sorry for everything I know you deserve better than someone who’s never going to amount to anything but please for tonight don’t leave me alone. You can forget about me in the morning if you want, just not tonight please.” He begs into your neck.
Minghao has never once cried for another person, not during his first three heartbreaks, not when his dog died. But the thought of losing you forever shatters him and he finally allows himself to weep.
After the initial shock of having him close to you again after missing him for what seemed like years. You hug him back. His sobs take over the dead silence of the night as you hold him, smoothing out the wrinkles of his paint stained t-shirt. You missed him more than air and although you were still upset with him. The two of you still had many things to talk about, all you wanted to do was hold him the same way he’s held you during moments of pure vulnerability.
“I’ll stay.”
Minghao is in love and he doesn’t know how to tell you.
His paintings don’t hang in the university art gallery anymore. They’re locked away in the storage closet in his apartment. All of them collecting dust, except for two.
When the two of you graduated. The art gallery took down his paintings to display the incoming freshman’s artwork. You had gone with him for moral support as the two of you watched his most hated--your favorite paintings come down. It was a bittersweet moment for the two of you but you could tell it had affected him more than he led on.
“When I get my first paycheck I’ll buy one off you.” You whispered to him as he walked you back to your dorm room. Minghao stops dead in his tracks, his eyes brimming with unshed tears as he grips his two largest canvases in his hands.
“Why would you do that?” He shakes his head before closing the distance between the two of you.
“Because I love your paintings idiot.” You roll your eyes and hold the small canvases you were holding against your chest. “And I love you.”
Minghao’s world stops. It freezes and goes blank. He swallows slowly to make sure he’s heard you right, and when he notices your shaking hands gripping his precious canvases he’s positive he has.
“No you don’t.” He blurts out before he can think and he sees the hurt flash across your perfect features signaling that he has fucked up. He doesn’t know how to handle your confession. Everyone he has ever loved laughs in his face and tells him he was an idiot for thinking they would ever feel anything for him. He almost waits for you to retreat your statement but when you don’t he feels his heart against his throat.
“Fuck, fine sorry I said anything.” You scoff and turn around, walking as fast as you could to create all the distance between the two of you. You knew you should’ve never confessed, you knew he would never feel the same way as you did. You were chaos, too much to handle, at times to clingy and not even that good of a fuck to keep a man. But there had been a little pocket of hope in you reserved for Minghao and sometimes he stared at you for longer than a person should stare at another. So you took your shot. Knowing you could have possibly read all the lingering touches and stares and blatantly obvious signs wrong. That you would end up in another heartbreak but you had really thought your subconscious had been wrong.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, girl.
Wait, wait, stop walking.” Minghao yells looking around frantically and setting his paintings against an isolated light post. He uses all the energy he has left in him and runs after you. His shoes forcefully stomping against the cracked pavement. Minghao’s mind is running at miles an hour and the only thing he can do is laugh because of how badly he wants to kiss you. Tell you you’ve been the sole owner of his heart ever since the first time he spotted you silently admiring his terrible paintings all those months ago and paint.
Is this really the life of an artist?
He’s an idiot, the biggest one on this planet but for the first time in his life, he’s determined to not let the best thing that has ever happened to him slip away.
You have no choice but to stop at the streetlight and Minghao catches up. His breathing is ragged, his fake glasses are slipping down the bridge of his nose, and his hands are shaking from the adrenaline surging through his veins.
He places his hands against your shoulders making you jump, “Minghao forget I said anything it was a mis--.” His mouth is on yours before you could finish your sentence. His hands travel down your back and he pulls you closer, crushing his paintings in between your bodies.
“I love you too,”
Minghao is nervous.
The day he’s been looking forward to and dreading for the past three years has finally arrived. His nerves course through his body like shocks of electricity and he feels like throwing up. When he met you all those years ago, the only person who encouraged his unachieveable dream, in the stupid university gallery, he never once thought he would end up here.
“Baby, are you ready?” You peak your head into the green room, the dark shade of red adjourning your lips catches him off guard. His hands itching to grab the sketchbook and pack of pastels he kept in his bag for moments of random inspiration. He refrains when he remembers he has people waiting for him. People who have gone out of their way to come to see him, his paintings and the opening of his highly anticipated art gallery.
You walk in and close the door behind you. You stand in Minghao’s path and he stops pacing.“I can tell Jun to stall for a few more minutes. He has the crowd wrapped around his finger with his terrible jokes, I mean some of them aren’t that bad but still they aren’t good.” You put your hand against his cheek, your thumb soothing away the worry lines around his perfect mouth.
“How many people are out there?” He whispers and puts his forehead against yours. He thought his nerves were bad on his wedding day, but he’s sure this takes the cherry. He won’t tell you, even though he has a hunch that you already know.
“Last time Mingyu and your father updated me we had reached a few hundred.”
“A few hundred.” Minghao’s eyes grow wider than the moon, his nerves get worse. “I can’t go out there. What if they don’t like me?”
“Look at me Hao.” You place two fingers underneath his chin and raise it. His pupils are wide with uncertainty and you do everything in your power to keep yourself from laughing. Nothing was cuter than Minghao when he was nervous. “You always sell yourself short, these people fell in love with your paintings and I have no doubt in my mind that they’ll love you. I mean honey look at where we ended up.” You offer him a smile before leaning in to place a soft kiss against his plump lips.
“Yeah but that’s different. I was a nobody back then, no one had a preconceived notion of me then. I’m afraid these people might expect a broken artist with a smoking habit and that’s not me. At least not anymore.”
“Who cares what they might think of you, this isn’t about them. This is about you and your dream, don’t let the opinions of strangers ruin this for you.” You nod your head rubbing your thumb over his lips to get rid of the residue left behind by your liptstick. “If it makes you feel better I’m here and so are your parents and your friends. We’ll always support you baby.”
Minghao takes a deep breath and nods shyly. “Can you just hold me for a while. I want to be yours only for these last few minutes of freedom.”
“Minghao you’re making it sound like you’re selling your soul.” You giggle and fix the loose strands of hair that had fallen against his forehead.
“I’ll stay.”
Xu Minghao is a beautiful mystery that was often left unsolved.
Until you walked into his life and took your time to solve it.
#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#seventeen x y/n#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen fanfic#seventeen scenarios#seventeen minghao#minghao x reader#seventeen Drabble#minghao scenarios#Minghao Drabble#the8 scenarios#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#the8 fluff#the8 imagines#the8 drabbles#the8 angst#the8 x reader
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A Favor: Part Eleven
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: first chapter after acosf!! im sorry for how short this one is, but acosf wrecked me and writing this put me back together. i hope it does something similar for you ❤️
***
“You say you’ve been doing better lately?”
The therapist’s office is plain, a little gloomy, but big windows overlook the center of town that make Nesta feel less suffocated.
She nods, “Yeah.”
“How would you describe ‘better’?” Dr. Bond— Lana, she insists on being called— has been endlessly patient with Nesta’s non-answers so far. Nesta almost feels bad and decides to throw the woman a rope.
“I’m not alone anymore,” she says. “I used to be alone all the time, but now I have friends, sort of… and a boyfriend.” She still loves that word. It’s never tasted so exciting before.
“You were always alone before this, then? Or were there just people that you didn’t consider noteworthy?”
A scowl rises to Nesta’s mouth. Damn, she works quick. “I was raised with two sisters in a one-bedroom apartment. I never got to be alone, but then I grew up, and…” Her mind wants to skip over the time she spent in college. “For the last couple of years, I holed up in my own place. Never wanted to talk to anybody or see them. If people took an interest in me, I shut them down because I didn’t have an interest in them.”
“You missed a few years,” Lana notes.
“What?”
“You’re twenty-four, and you moved out at eighteen. Where were you before getting your own place?”
Numbness seeps through Nesta at the question. She knows she can ask Lana to change the topic, but that will only bring it back later. “I had a boyfriend in college,” she says flatly. “I lived with him for a few years, but like you said, it isn’t noteworthy.”
“As a fellow lone wolf, I disagree.” Lana’s clinical polite face is unchanging. “Any person who you trust enough to let into your life is noteworthy.”
Nesta says nothing.
“I’m interested in these people you’ve chosen to trust,” her therapist continues after a beat of silence. “Why don’t we start with whoever you trust most?”
Nesta snorts. This she can talk about.
“His name is Cassian. I’ve been living with him ever since my apartment got flooded a couple of months ago, and he’s always been a good friend to me.” She sits there, thinking about what else to say. “I think I like him more than I’ve ever liked anybody.”
“This is the new boyfriend?”
Nesta nods.
“Do you compare him to the old one?”
Nesta doesn’t know what this lady’s angle is, but she answers carefully, “I used to. Back when I first moved in. I haven’t done it in a long time, though.”
“Why not?”
The answer is simple. “There’s no need to. He’s not comparable to anybody.”
“Is that why you opened up to him after two years of self-imposed isolation?”
Nesta looks away. “It wasn’t isolation,” she defends. “It’s just… after a lifetime of being subjected to the gaze of strangers, I wanted to hide. I liked hiding.” Mostly.
“What does that mean, the gaze of strangers?”
Question after cool question, this one. Nesta struggles to find a proper answer.
“You know how,” she starts slowly, “as soon as you start school, you’re placed into this bubble with a bunch of people who don’t know you and have no reason to care about you? There’s a shift in how you view people, and how people view you. And I thought I could leave it behind once I graduated high school, but it followed me to college and to parties and into everyday interactions.”
“What is it?”
“It’s this—” Nesta waves her hands, “judgment. It’s that thing you do as soon as you meet someone, and you try to determine whether they’re worth your time or not. Whether they’re above or below you in this made-up social hierarchy in your head.”
“Explain that more,” Lana says.
“We want to hang around people we find cool. And when we meet someone new, we inspect them, look them up and down, to see if they fit our definition of cool. We take them apart. Everyone does it, even you. And with me,” she shrugs, “I’m pretty, I wear the right clothes, I do my makeup. So at first glance, people think, ‘Oh, I can see myself getting to know her better. I can see myself liking her.’ But then they take a closer look at me, and it’s like…” Her fingers flutter in the air, trying to support her thoughts. “I can see their minds changing. ‘Nevermind, I was wrong. Nevermind, there’s something off with her. She’s a little quiet, a little weird, a little bitchy.’”
Lana narrows her eyes. “And Cassian doesn’t look at you like that?”
Nesta looks away. “He doesn’t look at anyone like that.”
It’s what used to make her so uncomfortable about him. She was incapable of fathoming his honesty, his genuineness, his kindness. She thought he was even weirder than her for it— she placed him beneath her on her social hierarchy for it.
Lana frowns thoughtfully. “And now you two live together?”
Nesta nods, then shrugs. “For the next twenty-four hours, we do. He’s helping me move back into my old place.”
Because that was another conversation she and Cassian had on Thanksgiving night. It was a long time coming, but also the perfect time.
“You’re saying your apartment has been ready for weeks? Why are you just telling me now?”
Nesta pillowed her face on his chest, not as upset at revealing the news as she would have been some days ago. “Because I was scared that if I moved out, I would lose my friendship with you.”
“That never would have happened—”
“We wouldn’t see each other every day anymore. Even if we didn’t go back to being complete strangers, the closeness would be lost.”
“You must not know me, then. I would’ve texted you every fucking hour. You’d never hear the end of me.”
“I couldn’t guarantee that back then.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “I can now.” She crawled higher up his body, lowering her voice to a secretive pitch. “Want to know why?”
“Why?” he whispered.
“Because you’re mine now. And that’s what I was waiting for while I made Lorene hold that shitty empty apartment for me. I was waiting for a catalyst, a revelation.” She pressed a kiss to his sternum. “And I most definitely got it.” The pleasant ache between her legs was proof enough. “Also,” she added, “it would be weird if you lived with your girlfriend before even having a first date with her.”
Cassian huffed a laugh. “You have a point there. We have been moving backwards, haven’t we?”
Nesta nodded into his skin.
He got a little quiet. “Still,” he said after a moment. “I’ll miss you.”
“You’ll see me every day. I’ll be fifteen minutes away.”
“I’ll still miss you.”
“I know.”
“What does talking about guys have to do with my therapy?” Nesta squirms, getting restless with the topic.
“Lots of things,” Lana says, putting down her notepad. “It gets you comfortable with expressing your feelings to me, and it teaches me about how you view the world. Besides, therapy isn’t just a rehashing of past traumas, you know. We can talk about whatever you want here, especially if it makes you feel good.”
“Well, I want to talk about something else.” She’s not spending this much money by the hour just to talk about how much she likes Cassian— she can go to Cassian for that for free.
“Like what?” Lana asks smoothly.
She’s offering an opening, finally, to the real reason that Nesta’s here.
Nesta pulls at the sleeves of her sweatshirt, wondering where to start. “I feel like I’ve been growing up lately,” she says carefully. “I have all these new people in my life to be responsible for, and I’m— I want to do it right. But I’m worried I won’t have room for new things until I pack up some of my old shit, so that’s why I’m here, I guess. I don’t want to hold on to all of my old shit anymore.”
At Lana’s encouraging silence, she continues, “I spent my whole life stuck in a suffocating town, and as soon as I left, I got stuck in a relationship. By the time I knew what freedom felt like, I— I’d been left behind. Everyone I knew was moving onto bigger things and all I had was this shitbag of a past. So I got a new place and started law school and called it a fresh start, but now I’m here and I’m not sure if I ever got better.”
She takes a sharp breath after everything that’s spilled.
Lana purses her lips, letting the room absorb Nesta’s words. After a long moment, she says, “Just because bad things stop happening to someone, doesn’t mean they instantly get better. It’s a good thing that you’re recognizing that before stepping into new relationships, Nesta.”
Lana glances at the clock on the wall. “I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for today, but this was a productive first session.” She offers a small smile. “Same time next week?” She says it as if it isn’t already a done deal.
Nesta nods gratefully anyway, unable to say anything else. As soon as she’s out the door, a pent-up sigh escapes her. That wasn’t so bad.
***
Later that night, Nesta doesn’t miss Cassian’s wistful stare as he takes down the painting he got her from the fall festival. Nor does she miss how slowly he packs it away.
Once the bedroom she made her home is as sparse as the day she moved in, all her things packed away neatly in boxes, Nesta wraps her arms around Cassian and pulls him to the bed. There, she lets him hold her close, their breaths and limbs intertwining as they lie in thoughtful silence.
“I can’t believe I’ll never see this room again,” Nesta says quietly.
Cassian’s eyes widen in alarm. “What do you mean, never again?”
“I’ll be staying in your room whenever I visit, remember?” Her underwear already occupies a drawer in his closet.
Cassian visibly relaxes when he remembers, then smiles. “Right. Of course.”
She lets herself sink deeper into his embrace. “I just realized you’ve never seen my apartment before.” He was waiting at the front door of Lorene’s place while Nesta collected her things all those weeks ago, but she cringes at the thought of him visiting now. The clear wealth gap between her and Cassian doesn’t usually show, but it’ll be undeniable with the cramped room she calls an apartment. “Maybe it’s best if I move back in without your help. There might not even be space there for your huge body.”
“Sounds more appealing by the minute.” He’s not joking. He tilts up Nesta’s chin so she’s forced to meet his eyes. “I can’t wait to start partaking in your life the way you took over mine. Spending nights at your place, meeting your friends, riding in your car instead of mine.”
Nesta swallows.
“I’m gonna miss you like hell, but it’ll be for the best.”
He’s right: this is what’s best for their budding relationship right now. Moving out, creating even a little bit of distance— all of it is so they can finally learn each other as lovers instead of roommates. So when they do come back together, which Nesta firmly believes they will, it’ll be stronger than ever before.
Some of their shared sadness flits away at the truth of it. She only places her hand on his cheek, content to appreciate this view— this beautiful, hazel-shaded view— without further chitchat or goodbyes.
Cassian is not as fond of the silence. “I need to tell you something,” he says seriously after a few minutes.
After only a handful of days dating Cassian, Nesta knows what he’s going to say. “Don’t,” she warns, unamused.
He grins conspiratorially and leans in even closer, until their mouths are almost brushing. “You’re my everything, Nesta.”
“Oh my god, stop it.” She squirms out of his hold and gets up, tossing the blankets off herself.
“No, come back!” He makes a grab for her sleeve. “We have to use the bed one last time—”
But she’s already running off.
***
Cassian carefully arranges the canvas painting on the wall, taking a step back to determine if it’s hanging straight. The ruby and amber leaves of the landscape stand out against the dull teal walls of Nesta’s basement apartment, but he’s just getting started.
The rest of Nesta’s things are half-unpacked from their cardboard boxes, but instead of going for the important shit first, he finds the box he specifically marked FAVES in bold letters the night before.
While Nesta wrangles to get her clothes back into her old closet in the background, Cassian crouches and rips open the small box. There, lying atop his girlfriend’s favorite trinkets and personal items, is the framed photo he snuck in without her noticing.
It’s of the two of them at the fall festival, taken mere hours before their first kiss. Nesta is pressed up close to Cassian (her excuse being that it was cold), and a genuine light fills her eyes, one that Cassian never thought he’d be able to capture on camera. Cassian himself isn’t looking at the camera, but down at Nesta with wind-flushed cheeks and a distant smile. Making sure she’s having a good time, that she truly wants to be there with him in that moment.
He never realized how close they looked in that picture until he had it printed and framed, not long after Nesta announced she was moving out. He can’t believe he didn’t see it sooner.
Standing up, he places the photo on Nesta’s wooden dresser. Nesta still has her head in the closet, moving things around, but Cassian makes no announcement of his gift to her. She’ll notice it sooner or later.
He clears his throat. “Wanna take a break and order Chinese?”
Nesta pops her head out of the closet, her ponytail ruffled and eyes narrowed at him. “Have you even been helping this whole time?”
“Standing here and looking pretty is harder than it seems, but I don’t expect any credit from you,” he jokes. “Just let me buy you lunch.”
Nesta grumbles something he chooses not to hear, but straightens up and rubs her spine with a wince. “I need a fucking chiropractor,” she mutters.
Guilt shoots through Cassian at that small wince, and he resolves to finish organizing Nesta’s closet for her before the day is over. Nesta goes on, “So? Still determined to split your time between here and the cabin?” She gestures to the apartment with an arm.
It’s really just a glorified single room, with a rusty kitchenette in the corner, a hallway near the stairs that holds the bathroom, and Nesta’s bed pushed against one wall. It’s nothing special, but Cassian loves it. Mostly because he can already envision each new nook and cranny to take Nesta against, and how he wants to wake up in that too-small bed on days that he’s too lazy to drive home.
“It’s perfect,” he says simply. Thank you for sharing your home with me, is what he really means. Speaking of homes—
Cassian digs around in his pocket, finding and pulling out a newly-minted silver key. “I almost forgot to give you this.”
Nesta frowns, coming forward to take the key from him. He uses the closeness as an excuse to wrap his arms around her waist while she inspects the object.
She glances up at him, eyes softer than they were a moment ago, lips slightly parted. “You’re giving me a key to the cabin?”
He shrugs casually. “You should’ve gotten one a long time ago.” She used either Cassian’s key or the spare while she lived there.
Her mouth is still open, and she closes it once, twice, before finally saying, “I don’t have a key to my place for you.”
“But I can get one,” she adds quickly. “If you want it, that is.”
Of course he wants it, but he keeps his face carefully neutral. “Only if you want me to have one. We’re still new, and this is your personal space.” He emphasizes your.
Nesta purses her lips, then says, “I’ll think about it.”
Cassian’s shoulders slump in relief— relief that Nesta is being honest with him instead of doing something she isn’t yet ready for. He’ll take her honesty over an apartment key any day.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he smiles brightly and shoves her toward the bed. “If we’re getting dumplings again then you can’t steal mine.”
***
a/n: fair warning that ive never been to therapy, but in stories therapists are usually a mode for character exploration and development, which is what nesta's therapy will be for.
also im so glad i got to meet gwyn in acosf and im so excited to introduce her into this fic too!! if you have ideas for her origin story feel free to share because nothing is planned yet
taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @swankii-art-teacher
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"Why didn't you fucking tell me, Wilbur?" Schlatt was trying to keep his voice low as he asked him. They were both having a bit of a private meeting in the back rooms after the presidential debates.
Wilbur tilted his head, being unsure of what caused the sudden shift of character. "Didn't tell you what?" He fixed his posture and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Tell me about my fucking son!" Wilbur's persona broke as he flitched at the sudden outburst. Schlatt noticed his own shift and went back to being in a lower tone. "About my fucking kid Wilbur. You knew how fucking long I've spent looking for him. Why didn't you tell me shit about finding Tubbo?" Schlatt walked closer to him, getting more pissed off by the second.
Wilbur took a couple of steps back, raising his hands a defensive manner. "Tubbo? I didn't know he was your kid. We just found him at the side of the road and took him in." He was quick to defend himself, not wanting to get headbutted by the ram hybrid.
Schlatt started to walk backwards as he ran a hand through his head. "Was the horns not fucking obvious for you or what?!" Not caring about wanting to stay quiet anymore, Schlatt raises his voice as both hands stretched out then dropping to his sides. He fully turned around as he looks through the cabinets in the room.
He needs a drink.
Wilbur takes a few steps foward. "In my defense, I didnt want to assume or ask the kid if he was abandoned." He walked to the long table in the middle of room and rested his arms on it, to keep it himself up. "Why would you even leave the kid in a box in the side of the road anyways?"
Schlatt slammed the two doors of the cabinets hearing the question. "Did you fucking forget where I was before you dragged me to your stupid lava and water world?!" He turned to face Wilbur, who is still trying to appear more stoic, making Schlatt more pissed off. He started to walk to the other end to meet with Wilbur again. "I was a fucking con man, dumbass! I needed the money and I needed to protect my son by hiding him away!"
Wilbur shrugged and closed his eyes. "You shouldn't have done that if you knew how risking it was to your kid." Both hands slam against the dark wood in front of him. Making him flitch back and open his eyes again, looking meeting with Schlatt's eyes. Having his eyes filled with anger and a smile spead across his face.
"Do you want me to bring up your past, loverboy?" Wilbur gotten tensed by the name. Curling his hands up into fist out of pure annoyance. "You started this shithole by making a drug van, try to start a war against god, then turned my kid and your brother into a brainwashed soilders! If anything, you're more of an asshole then me!" A small chuckle left Schlatt as he started to walk a bit backwards, wanting to make sure he wasn't in swinging distance.
Wilbur moved back from the table and tried to straightened his posture. "No, I fought for what was right. I fought for freedom, the two followed me in my fight."
Schlatt rolled his eyes, he knew Wilbur had a shitty justification for pratically children soilders. He needs that damn drink. "Yeah, alright Loverboy, you're right with wanting to have a mindcontrolled army that you forced to stay with you by guilting them. Like your younger brother and his very close friend wont follow due to them having a lack of leadership in their lives growing up. They totally didnt want the approval from a leader that they looked up to for years."
Wilbur's anger begain to grow as he tries to keep himself in line. "Philza was a great dad, he-"
"How did you know I was talking about Philza?" Wilbur closes his mouth, not wanting to lash out. It's what Schlatt wants. "Philza constantly left you guys to have an adventure. Techno left to go fight his stupid battles. And you left the younger two for your own adventures to see other places. You three left two really young kids alone to fend for themselves. What leader figure did they have?" He turns back to get the cabinets.
"You promised-"
"-to not speak of it! I fucking know!" Schlatt was quick to cut him off, not wanting to hear anymore shitty excuses. "You also promised to keep an eye out for my kid!" He finally found a liquor bottle, he grabbed the tall bottle and a cup. Schlatt turns around to face the table to open the bottle and pour himself a cup. "But you fucking turned him and his friend into a fucking mindless soilders!" He grabbed the cup by holding it with his hand over the top.
Wilbur was gritting his teeth as his nails dug into his palm. Schlatt had a small smirk. he took a sip from his cup, like a little celebration sip. "I didn't turn him into a soilder, Schlatt! The two joined willingly! I wouldn't even place my brother in harms way! I was a better father to them then you-"
Schlatt spat out the liquor and started to cackle as he places his cup back on the table. "You think you're a better dad then me?!"
Wilbur nods his head, being unamused. "Yes, yes I do."
Schlatt continues to laugh. "How about your own damn kid, Funky? Yeah, why dont you ever pay attention to him for once and leave my damn kid alone?!" There was a mixture of amusement and anger in his voice as he chugged down the final remains that was left in the cup. That deserves another drink.
Wilbur cringed at the questions before answering. "Its Fundy. And I do pay attention to him."
Schlatt gestures to Wilbur's outfit with the cup in hand. "Why are the outfits different?" He downs the drink, ignoring the burning in his throat.
"Because he's my son-"
"Pretty sure the fox doesn't like to get babied." Wilbur takes a moment to think back on the uniforms. Fundy always wore a pastel version, it does make him look like a child. But he looks like a little champion. "Pay attention to his tail and ears. It stays close to his body for a reason, he's uncomfortable and hates it." Schlatt raises the bottle and starts to drink the liquor from there.
"Shut up. You don't know anything about my son. You dont even know his name, let alone how he feels." Wilbur has changed from arguing to just being defensive.
Good, easier to piss off.
"And you do?" Schlatt raised the bottle towards him, with one hand being stuffed in his pocket. "I just told you he doesn't like and explained how I knew because I pay attention to-"
"I said shut up Schlatt!" There it is, he's breaking. "You need to leave my son out of this, he doesn't need to be ridiculed by you."
"You dont want to ridiculed, Wilbur. Im just stating facts and you're getting mad about it." Schlatt took another swing at the bottle. "Besides, if you're going to bring my kid into this by turning him into a kid soilder, then I should at least be able to tell you about how your kid feels."
Wilbur turned on his heels and went to the door. "This meeting is over, see you at the elections." He opened the door and was ready to walk out
"See ya there loverboy." Wilbur slammed the door shut.
Schlatt smiled to himself, proud of making Wilbur break his stupid character. He takes another swing at the bottle. Thankfully, his team up will help him win tomorrow and he'll be able to protect his son from that family. Its the least he can do after Tubbo needing to live with them for so many years.
#mcyt#dream smp#wilbur soot#jschlatt#lunch club#dadschlatt au#my writing#next are just mentioned#tommyinnit#tubbo#philza#technoblade#sleepy bois inc#sbi#yes I did add in more tags to this can be seen
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heather + hwang hyunjin
hello lovelies! (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧ ✧゚・: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)
this is for anon who requested a scenario based on conan gray’s heather, and i decided to add a little twist to it (because im a big baby and i cant take the angst TT) hope you enjoy! <3
STREAM GOD’S MENU AND EASY.
You faltered as you tried to match Hyunjin's pace, your high heels making the task even more impossible aside from Hyunjin's long strides. "Fuck it," you huffed and stopped mid stride, leaning down to remove the straps of your shoes, finally sliding them off one after the other.
Hyunjin took notice of your absence and quickly looked back to where you were, your heels hanging from your hands as you were sauntering towards him barefoot. "What made you think that wearing heels is a good idea?" he questioned as he walked back to meet you halfway, turning his back to you and squatting down. "Get on my back," he offered.
"I wanted to impress you, maybe even get you to like me or look at me as something more than a friend," you mentally answered him. However, you couldn't risk to lose him, at least not over some one-sided feelings you've been sheltering within your heart for the past few months.
"You're going to regret this," you playfully taunted as you snaked your arms around Hyunjin's neck. He hooked his arm around your calves, asking you if you were comfortable before carefully standing up, bouncing you up a bit to slightly rearrange your hold on him. "Come on, (y/n). I do this for you all the time," Hyunjin joked.
"You had the time of your life at that party, huh?" Hyunjin spoke after a moment of silence. You let out a heavy sigh. "I wanted to forget someone for a moment," you replied softly, afraid that he would catch on the hurt laced within your tone. "Who?" he asked.
"You."
You've been friends with Hyunjin since diapers, basically you shared more than half of your memories and life experiences with him, even some of your firsts, which unfortunately included having your first love. Yeah, you'd date someone here and there, thinking that maybe venturing out into other men would help you get over your feelings for him, there was no harm in trying, right?
But boy were you wrong.
Instead of forgetting your crush on the said boy, it remained, worse, it got stronger. No matter how many times you tried to erase your fantasies of Hyunjin, your heart and mind were stubborn -- fixated on the thought of making your love life suffer for life because you couldn't see any other way around it.
You thought of confessing, but that didn't work out for you. Not that Hyunjin rejected you or anything, but you didn't even get the chance to pour your feelings out for the male because he introduced you to her that day.
Min Yeji, his heather.
"Hello? Earth to (y/n)?" Jeongin waved his hand in-front of your face, snapping you out of your thoughts. "What got you spacing out?" he asked, throwing an arm around your shoulder and rubbing them in a soothing manner. "I'm confessing today, Jeongin," you exhaled in an attempt to calm your nerves, "I'd rather tell him now than never."
"Listen, if hyung fails to see the beautiful person that you are inside and out, then to hell with him," Jeongin reassured. "I'll personally ask Chan-hyung to teach him a lesson if he chooses her over you," he added.
You gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Jeongin," you said.
You knew it was wrong, selfish even, for having him choose between you and her and for having to confess at such an ungodly timing. You wasted all those years trying to find him in someone else when you could've just spoken your truth. Now, you were left with fighting for a spot to stay. But you wanted to tell him everything before it's too late, before you fade away from his memories, before you get replaced.
And with that, you gave Hyunjin a call. He picked up after the second ring, greeting you and telling you that he was just about to call you as he had something that he really wanted to tell you in person too. So, you guys made plans to meet up in the afternoon at the coffee shop that the both of you frequented during the weekends.
You nervously fiddled with your fingers, growing more and more impatient as the seconds tick by, feeling as if you were about to burst any second now.
"(Y/n)!"
You perked up when you heard his voice, but your smile fell as he approached you.
Hyunjin had his arm around her waist, sporting the biggest smile, one that you've never seen on him. The sight of this Hyunjin was breathtaking, almost unrecognizable as his eyes molded into crescents and his lips curved into the most charming smile. Guess that was reserved for her, huh?
You swallowed the lump in your throat as tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but you held them in and managed to plaster a fake smile on your face, like those countless times when you needed to be strong, especially when you needed -- no, when you should be happy for Hyunjin.
"Hey," you spoke as you got up from your seat, clearing your throat seconds later as you internally cringed at how weak you sounded.
"Yeji," he turned to look at her, "Meet (y/n), my best friend," he continued as he turned his gaze towards you.
That was your first time meeting her in person, but not the first time you've heard about her. Hyunjin made it known, three weeks ago to be exact, that he had been eyeing a certain someone. You still remember that night. Hyunjin was sprawled out on your bed with his head on your stomach as you lazily threaded your fingers through his golden locks. He rambled endlessly, gushing over everything about her.
Yeji leaned in for a quick hug and you returned her sweet gesture. "It's so nice to finally meet you," she beamed. "Nice to meet you too," you replied, wanting to reciprocate the excitement in her tone but you failed. "Take a seat," you invited.
You were so set on hating her and despising her throughout that afternoon, but something in you couldn't. You now saw why Hyunjin fell for her. Yeji had kind eyes, a sweet smile, a lovely personality, and so much more of what you weren't. You wanted her to be mean, maybe to even throw a glass of water at you while Hyunjin excused himself to the bathroom, only to come back and see you soaked in water. He would defend you and leave her, then it would end with him confessing his love for you, admitting that he was so blind to see it before, but now he's changed his mind. You know, just like those dramas that you spent hours watching with Hyunjin.
As Hyunjin busied himself with Yeji, you were mostly by yourself, except those times wherein Jisung would suddenly barge into your apartment and plop himself down on your couch and insist on watching dramas with you. Although you appreciate Jisung's presence, it simply wasn't the same without Hyunjin. You were so used to him -- his presence, his smell, his laugh, and his dramatic antics. It was like you had to start over again, but this time, you were alone.
Reality hit you harder as time passed by.
"--so yeah, I'm basically waiting for Chan-hyung's approval-" Hyunjin's rant was cut off as soon as he spotted Yeji a few feet away, quickly getting up from his seat to help her with her books and bag. "Hey, (y/n)," she smiled, giving you a quick hug like always. "How was class?" you asked her, trying to make small talk as the couple settled down across from where you sat. It was only then that you noticed the sweater that she was wearing. You immediately figured that it was Hyunjin's, judging from the way it drowned her petite figure and Hyunjin might have offered you the same sweater a few winters back.
You felt a pang in your chest.
"It sucks, as usual," Yeji replied as she let out a defeated sigh. "I totally feel for you," you chuckled.
"I can do your essays for you," Hyunjin cooed at Yeji, leaning in to press a chaste kiss on her cheek. You were quick to divert your gaze to your phone, not wanting to witness the affection that Hyunjin displayed. "That's so sweet of you, Jinnie, but you have your own classes too," Yeji responded as she playfully pinched Hyunjin's cheek.
You cleared your throat as you got ready to leave because a) you didn't want to third wheel, especially when you had feelings for the said partner, and b) clearly, your presence wasn't needed. "Hey, uhm, something came up with Jisung and it looks like he needs my help," you lied. "Oh, alright. We'll see you later, (y/n)," Yeji waved and you returned her gesture. "Call me if you need anything," Hyunjin stated and you nodded.
You fought back the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes as you walked back towards your apartment. Upon your arrival, you drowned yourself with school work, not only did it distract you from your current situation, but it also aided in clearing your weekend so you could squeeze in more hours of much needed sleep.
For the next few days, you decided to distance yourself from Hyunjin. It hurts, but you needed to save yourself from further heartbreak. You no longer hung out with him, you started texting him less, and then eventually, you avoided any sort of contact with him.
"Have you seen (y/n) lately?" Hyunjin nudged Seungmin, who was currently immersed in the movie that was playing on his laptop. "Yeah, I just saw her this morning, why?" the younger lad answered. Hyunjin's suspicions were confirmed, you were indeed ignoring him. But no matter how much Hyunjin thought about your new found behavior, he couldn't rack his brain for an answer. Was it something he said or did?
He came up with nothing for the past hour or so, and that's what led him to give up and just call you. "Pick up, (y/n)," Hyunjin mumbled as he paced back and forth in his bedroom, groaning when you failed to answer his call.
This continued on for days.
"Hyunjin."
"Babe," Yeji called for the blond-haired boy's attention for the second time. "Huh?" Hyunjin snapped out from his thoughts, "Sorry, I was distracted for a second."
"It's (y/n), isn't it?" she asked. "Well, yeah. It's just that I haven't heard or seen her lately," Hyunjin answered as he lowered his gaze, thinking that his response would settle wrongly with his girlfriend. He shouldn't be worrying about another girl, especially within Yeji's presence. Hyunjin expected her to lash out, but to his surprise, Yeji gave him a small smile -- it wasn't exactly out of understanding his concerns, but more of getting tired hearing his concerns. She placed her hands on top of his, "I understand, she's your friend after all. But, you do know that my patience has a limit, right?"
"I'm sorry, love. Forget about it," Hyunjin waved his hands, a motion to discard his previous statements. "Chan-hyung is hosting a party this weekend and I want you to come with me," he invited, "The boys really want to meet you."
Yeji shook her head which earned her a puzzled look from the male. "Come on, it'll be fun," Hyunjin prompted.
"Jin, I'm not blind," Yeji snapped. Her response caught Hyunjin off guard for a second. "Look, baby, if this is about-"
"I see the way she looks at you, the way she acts around you, and the way she avoids my advances. I don't blame her, though. If I were in her shoes, I would've cut the bitch already," Yeji exclaimed as a defeated smile made its way on her lips. "But instead, she's trying to be so strong and you're so stupid to not see this. Hyunjin, you've been friends with her for years, you should know her better than anyone else, maybe even better than she knows herself," she continued, frustration evident in her tone.
"Go to her, she needs you," Yeji exhaled.
[Present..]
"Hyunjin, you can put me down now," you said as the both of you neared his parked car and the said male complied to your request, letting you land carefully on the ground.
"What do you mean by wanting to forget about me for a moment?" Hyunjin questioned, his eyebrows contorted in confusion as he faced you. "I just want to forget you, get you off my mind, even for a second," you breathed out, the amount of shots that you took at the party giving you enough courage to pursue this line of conversation with Hyunjin. You already lost him and yourself, so you have nothing else to lose at this point.
"(Y/n), what are you talking about?" Hyunjin chuckled lightly, "Come on, bub. You're my best friend," he added.
And that was your breaking point.
"Well, I don't want to be your best friend anymore, Hyunjin!" you exclaimed. "I'm tired of being second best," you sobbed as you finally allowed your tears to fall. Hyunjin's smile immediately fell and his eyes widened at your sudden breakdown, you looked so hurt, betrayed -- you looked broken.
"Second best?"
"Yeah, just like how I was tonight, right?" you snapped as you flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Since Yeji couldn't make it tonight, you were left with the me," you retorted.
Hyunjin didn't respond because honestly, he didn't know how to.
"I tried, Hyunjin," you paused, "Believe me, I tried to get over you but I can't. I'm so in love with you. I tried to blame Yeji for all of this but how can I when she's been nothing but nice to me, she treats me like a sister."
"I wish I didn't wait that long, I wish I told you sooner," you continued.
"I'm sorry," Hyujin whispered. You shook your head as held your hand up to signal him to stop. "Don't apologize so that I can hate you."
You turned away from him, not wanting his eyes on you any longer. "I need to let you go, Hyunjin," you sniffed through your tears. You started walking away, still barefoot, but you didn't even bother at this point. Hyunjin's hand caught your wrist, "I'm not leaving you, at least not like this. Let me make this right, (y/n)."
"No, Hyunjin, please," you breathed out as you tried to free your wrist from Hyunjin's grasp. "I told you I'm not leaving you," Hyunjin argued, tugging you towards him and catching you in his embrace. He wrapped his arms around you, tightening his hold on you when you tried to push him off. "Shh, bub. It's okay, I'm not going anywhere," he spoke in a hushed tone and you hated the way it soothed you, causing you to lose your strength as you eventually gave into his touch.
Hyunjin gently stroked your hair as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. He waited until your breathing evened out and soon later, he led you back to his car. "I'm driving you home, then we'll talk," he said.
The drive to your apartment was dead silent. A million thoughts raced through your mind as you looked out from the car's window. Now that you've sobered up, you felt stupid for acting out. Did you honestly think that throwing a tantrum would make Hyunjin dump Yeji? No, you didn't think so.
"Why didn't you tell me anything?" Hyunjin asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He sat next to you as he handed you a glass of water. "I never had the chance. I was supposed to tell you that afternoon when you introduced me to Yeji," you confessed, taking the glass of water he handed you. "Did it ever cross your mind that it was unfair for me too?" Hyunjin suggested.
"I'm not making you choose, Hyunjin," you sighed. "I know you love her, I don't want to rob you of your own happiness. That's why I'm the one who's walking away," you added as you sipped on the drink, setting it down on the coffee table and placing your hands back on your lap.
The blonde-haired male shook his head in disagreement as he moved down to kneel in-front of you, his hands tentatively coming up to lay on your knees. "Can I at least have a say in this?" he asked. You bit your lip and gestured for him to continue.
"You're right, I do love Yeji," he paused, taking a moment to form the right words. "But, I love you more, (y/n). I don't want you in pain because of me and it's killing me right now to see you like this," he added as a tear escaped his eye, recalling the state you were in a couple of hours ago, but he was quick to wipe them away. "You could've slapped me that day, called me an asshole, or something," he said, "I'll choose you over anybody, any day. I'm sorry it took so long for me to realize."
You were left speechless, uncertain of what your response should be, so you opted to stay silent.
"Yeji actually knew this was coming, maybe not right away, but at some point. I didn't believe her when she told me you had feelings for me. She told me she felt it the moment she met you in person," he explained, "So, we thought it would be the best to part ways and that's why she didn't come with tonight."
"I'm sorry," you muttered, keeping your eyes on your lap, finding a sudden interest towards the hem of your dress as you fiddled with it. "No, baby, don't be," Hyunjin replied, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. "I guess what they say is true, huh? You never appreciate what you have until you lose it," he admitted.
Finally, you mustered the courage to meet his gaze. "You'll always have me," you said. "Good, 'cause you'll always have me too," Hyunjin gave you a small smile. You pulled him up from his position, guiding him to sit beside you. Once Hyunjin was seated, you wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his dress shirt. His scent quickly filled your senses, making you feel at home and protected, a feeling you hadn't had in a while.
"Let me make this right, yeah?" Hyunjin spoke as he held you close, one hand patting your head gently and the other rubbing the small of your back. "Yeah, okay," you agreed.
"She may be Heather, but you're (y/n), my (y/n)."
#stray kids#stray kids angst#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids x reader#skz scenarios#hyunjin#hyunjin scenarios#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin angst#bang chan scenarios#bang chan imagines#lee know scenarios#lee know imagines#seungmin scenarios#seungmin imagines#felix scenarios#felix imagines#han scenarios#han imagines#changbin scenarios#changbin imagines#i.n scenarios#i.n imagines#hwang hyunjin#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines
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Homecoming
Jai belongs to @catinabag, and is used with their permission. This was a little drabble gift that kept growing until I finally decided to just finish and post it. It’s a little lengthy, hence the Read More. Enjoy!
Fog was rolling in thick that night, but it wasn't doing much to dissuade the man lumbering along the edge of the road. Occasionally, he'd glance up at a damp street sign, grunt in acknowledgement of it, and keep going. He really wasn't relying on them, anyway. It was an... instinct, a feeling that pulled him to where he needed to be. And the closer he was getting, the stronger the pull became.
"Come to the Square," a voice whispered, simultaneously at his ear and in his brain. "Come to the Square, and you'll be home..."
Home... He hadn't seen home-- hadn't had a home-- in... God, how many decades now? Time had lost all meaning to him.
He tugged his pinstripe jacket closer around him. Fuck it was cold. Wasn't Louisiana supposed to be all muggy and swampy and hot? How many more miles of this did he have to deal with? Was it even worth it? What the hell was he even doing, really--
The honk of a car horn made him turn away from his thoughts. He glared at the car, a dull yellow taxi, as it slowed to a crawl next him. The window rolled down, and a scruffy faced driver leaned over the passenger seat and called out, "Y'all need a ride?"
Standing there, arms stiffly around him, the man hesitated to say anything. "Uh..."
The driver grinned. "Tell you what, brah, if you goin' the same way I am, and it's under five miles, no charge. Lagniappe. Deal?"
The man nodded, and quickly got into the car. "Thanks," he grunted. "'Preciate it."
"No problem, no problem." Pulling away from the road's edge, the driver continued forward. "Y'all ain't from around these parts, are you? What's your name, ami?"
"No," he said, gruffly, shaking his head. "It's Jai. Ghast." He hadn't said his real last name in years. It was almost like saying a foreign word, like his tongue didn't know how to curl around it properly.
The driver let out a short, relieved laugh. "For a moment there, I thought you was gonna say 'Gracey.' Ah, there's a family no one wants any part of. 'Cause of them, most drivers won't make rounds 'round here."
Jai furrowed his brow in confusion. "They a crime syndicate, or something?"
"Non, ami. They're all dead." His grin glinted in the rearview mirror. "Now where you heading to, Monsieur Ghast?"
Go to the Square...
"Um, the Square?" Jai cringed inwardly.
Now it was the driver's turn to look confused. "New Orleans Square?"
Jai pursed his lips and his gray eyes darted from side to side. He wagered, "Yes?"
The driver's grin widened. "You in luck, ami! That's where I be headed to." The cab took off with such force, Jai was pressed back into the seat. "Ol' Gabe, he get you there tout suite!"
Jai's knuckles faded to a pale beige as he gripped the door handle. The vehicle-- and his stomach-- lurched. And then there was a strange sensation under him, or rather, a lack of sensation. It was subtle at first, hard to pin point, and then he realized what it was: there wasn't any road under them. There should have been the familiar pings of grit and gravel under the tires. A steady whoosh from below his feet. There was an eerie whistling, however, and he forced his head to turn to look out the window.
They weren't connected to the road. They weren't connected to anything. Tiny points of lights--streetlights-- barely shown through the mist dozens of feet beneath them.
"The hell! What're you doing, you crazy Cajun?!"
"Why, I'm gettin' you to your destination, of course!" Gabe cackled. Moonlight flashed through him, betraying he was transparent.
Jai let out a heavy sigh and slumped back against the seat. How had he not figured it out? "This some kind of show you put on for tourists?"
"Gotta get my kicks somehow, ami." He gave a good-natured shrug. "Besides, one of us had to let on we was dead."
Jai was quiet for a few seconds. "Fair."
The next few minutes were thankfully uneventful, and the cab touched down on centuries old cobblestone.
Jai didn't open the door right away, instead rolling down the fogged window.
Up ahead loomed a massive, white house, a plantation-style mansion. It shone like a bleached tooth, a beacon in the misty night. The imposing black, wrought iron gate ahead of it was almost easy to miss in comparison. Even easier to miss were the strange, misshapen large stones scattered across the front yard of the property.
"This is the Square?"
"New Orleans Square is the town, but this is the place you need to be. Gracey Manor." Gabe's grin shifted into a gentler smile. "Safe travels, ami. And when you see old Beauregard, you tell him Gabe Guidry says hi."
"Beauregard?"
But Gabe was gone. The cab was gone. Jai was suddenly standing outside that menacing gate. With a long, high creak, it slowly opened, gesturing he should enter.
Jai licked his lips and ran a hand back through his shaggy black hair. Graceys. The dead people.
He straightened his jacket and stepped forward, a dirt path becoming more and more visible under his black leather shoes.
Moving forward, he got a better look at the property. A cement bird bath was to his left. A small pool was in it, but was too dark to see through. Jai had a feeling he'd regret sticking his hand in.
Near the bird bath was a statue of a smug, fluffy Persian cat. This in turn was flanked by multiple tiny bird statues. Nearby were other stone animals--a duck, a snake, a few different dogs, a monkey...
Wait...
The spacing between the animals led him to look at tiny placards under each, which all listed names and dates. This was a pet cemetery!
Cute, he thought. But then it dawned on him what those larger stones were. Who has a house flanked by a graveyard?
Beauregard…
With a new sense of urgency, he bounded up the front steps and barely stopped before gripping the enormous bronze door knocker and slamming it down three times. "Open up." His throat was suddenly tight. Angry tears welled in his eyes. "Open up, you creepy bastard!"
As if responding to his impatience, the door was pulled open with such force, Jai was flung inside. Skidding, he caught himself before he could fall.
A low voice greeted him in the darkness of the foyer. “Welcome, wayward soul.” An unseen hand helped him straighten up.
That voice… Jai knew it. It’d just been so long since he’d heard it. That tightness returned to his throat.
“Beauregard?”
A man appeared in front of him, one who was simultaneously familiar and a stranger. Thin, lanky, like him, with long, shaggy hair, only shock white instead of black. Taller than Jai by a few inches, but he always had been. They stared at one another, jaws agape, eyes wide.
Jai took a couple of unsure steps forward, but the other ran to him, and then flung his arms around him and hugged him so tightly Jai thought he’d never break free.
“My baby brother!” He pulled away, only to hold Jai’s shoulders and look him over. “It’s been so long.” His voice cracked. “You… You look… so grown up.” A tiny sob-chuckle escaped him, but he was grinning.
Jai took a moment to take in some of the new details of his sibling—the pale, blind right eye, and the scarring over it that ran from brow to cheek; the bruising left behind on his thin throat, and its answer, a thick noose that hung loosely under it like some kind of macabre tie. His green coat was threadbare at the shoulders and elbows, and his purple waistcoat was slightly too long. The pinstripe slacks were all right, but his spats were misaligned.
“You look like shit.”
Beauregard laughed and wiped his eyes. “That’s fair.”
“Sorry,” Jai said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess those last few years weren’t so kind to you, huh?”
Beauregard shrugged a shoulder, not denying it, but not providing details, either. “It’s been a long time since then.”
“And you’ve just been here, in this big ol’ house, for…?”
Another shrug. “I’m honestly not sure how long now. I don’t keep track of time anymore. I know I died January twenty-ninth of 1901, at exactly 10:35 p.m. Beyond that…” He pulled out a pocket watch and flashed the face of it at Jai. It had been stopped since his time of death. “Time has lost all meaning for me.”
“So, you’ve been here…”
“Yes.”
“All this time?”
“Yes.”
“You died here?”
“Yes…” Beau was trying not to show the mild annoyance growing at the questions. “What are you getting at?”
Jai suddenly pointed at him accusingly. “You’ve been here, living here, for ages, and you ain’t never tried to contact me even once? Even once!”
Taken aback, Beau sputtered, “Well, you—Who do you think sent out the message for you, hmm? Who do you think led you here?”
“But that was just now! You’ve had literal decades! Decades! Decades that I’ve spent away from the very last little bit of family I had left!” There were tears in his eyes. “If Eulie were here…”
“Eulie is here. This was her house.” Beau looked over his shoulder at the grand staircase leading to the bedrooms above. “I’m surprised she hasn’t come down to investigate the ruckus yet. Her or Dorian…”
Jai took a tiny pause for confusion. “Is that her husband?”
“No, her son.”
“I have a nephew?” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “And you all were livin’ in a mansion! And not one of you saw fit to find me?!” Turning on his heel, he headed back to the door.
“Now stop!” Beau bellowed. A chair cut Jai off, knocking him down into it, and it scooted back to Beau. “You disappeared!” Pointing at Jai, Beau floated above the floor. “You were the one who forsake the family! You went off to who-knows-where, while Eulalie and I were dealing with our parents’ funeral expenses, and bank possessing the house, and—” He let out a frustrated groan. Slipping back down to the floor, he slowly exhaled, and started again, in a much calmer tone. “It was like you had fallen off the face of the planet. And… And I knew you were grieving in your own way. By the time we wound up here… H-How was I supposed to find you, Jai?” Beau put a hand on his shoulder, gazing into his eyes, imploring. “When you clearly didn’t want to be found?”
Turning his head aside, Jai looked away. It was true. He hadn’t wanted to be found, not at first. But when he’d found himself deep in trouble, that’s when he’d started thinking about his family and what he’d left behind. Then… Then it was too late. Far too late. You couldn’t scream for your big brother with a mouth full of dirty handkerchief, and lungs full of river water.
Jai blinked, sending tears cascading down his cheeks. “I—I missed you, Beau. I needed you. And—And I couldn’t find you. And I couldn’t face you. Not after what I’d done. I’ve… I’ve done horrible things, Beau. I…”
“Shh,” Beau shushed him. “Do you think I’m proud of this?” He gestured to the noose. “We’ve all done regrettable things, Jai.” Gripping the arms of the chair, he leaned down. “The important thing is we’re back together, eh?” He grinned his cock-eyed grin that always seemed just a little too wide. “The Ghast boys wreaking havoc from beyond the grave!”
Jai allowed himself a small smile. “You mean it? Back together like old times?”
Beau yanked him up, and put an arm around him as he led him further into the mansion. “Not exactly. Far fewer things to worry about now. I’ll give you the tour, and you can tell me everything you’ve been up to.”
“Eh…” Jai rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s a tall order.”
“Hm, we have all eternity little brother.” Beau squeezed him to his side.
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Can’t Go Back Part 17
A/N: This chapter is pretty fluffy. We get a glimpse at how they are moving forward in their relationship since their fight. I’m planning on uploading a part from Monty’s perspective about what he’s doing Friday after school tomorrow or sometime this weekend. I hope you enjoy. Feedback is appreciated as always and much love. -Em
I spent the next week actively not checking my emails. I was too afraid to even consider if I would get emails about schools yet. It had only been a week. But you never know. In an attempt to keep my mind off of the fact that my entire future was now completely and totally out of my control, I tried to fill my time with normalcy. Things I normally did. Things that Monty and I normally did. That normalcy now included carving out an hour and a half for Monty’s physio three days a week, but we made it work.
I tried to get back into my routine. For the most part, I went to bed at the same time every night. Some days Monty went with me, other days he stayed up and did stuff for a while. But he came to bed every night. I went to the game Friday night. Scott and Charlie came over for brunch on Saturday. Justin came over to see his new best friend, I mean me, on Sunday because he picked up a shift Saturday morning. Monty and I did our own things together in the evenings during the week. I pretended to read while he played video games one night. Secretly, I was just watching him. For some reason watching people play video games was highly entertaining. We just did normal things.
We also went grocery shopping Saturday. “Are you sure you want to come with me?” I asked again.
“Yes, I’m sure Addison. Besides, we are over halfway to the store. It’s a little late to change my mind now.”
“Okay. Remember the list please.”
“I know. There’s a list and we get what’s on the list.”
“Exactly.”
At the store, I grabbed a cart and dug through my purse for the list and my pen. Monty took the cart from me without asking. I feigned an affronted look. He smirked back. Cocky bastard. I can already tell this is going to be so fun. I opened my mouth to speak when we got inside. “List, I know. And yes. I remember you’re going to make us get vegetables.”
“And you have to get at least one that you like.” He pouted. “You like carrots.” I offered.
“Fine.” He muttered. We are in a dramatic mood today. It was so peaceful when I went by myself. But I missed this. Monty went and put exactly five bulk carrots in a bag. Not wanting to fight him on carrots, I didn’t say anything. As usual, I was in charge of the rest of our vegetables.
The aisles were an easier task. There were no evil scary vegetable that I would have to force him to eat. I quickly scanned down the list as we entered each aisle. Carefully, everything was placed in the cart just so. “We need this.” Monty said, grabbing a box of cheese its.
“Is it on the list?” In response, he plucked the list and pen from my hand, and scribbled it on.
“It is now.” I rolled my eyes and grinned as he handed it back to me. His cheeky grin made me blush. I turned my back and pretended to look at something when we got to the fruit snack aisle and ignored the telltale thud of a box, make that two boxes, of fruit snacks being chucked in the cart. He didn’t write them on the list.
We both cringed at the price of meat, as usual. But we needed it so there wasn’t a whole lot we could do. I crossed things off that had been missed as we were filling the cart. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like the store was out of anything. “Oh, we need butter.” I muttered.
“Is it on the list?” Monty smirked. Like he had done earlier with the crackers, I quickly wrote it down.
“Yes.” I grinned. He grinned and stopped to kiss me on the cheek.
“I love you.”
“I love you too. Now let’s get this done so we can go home and do nothing.”
“Your wish is my command.” There was even a dramatic wave of his arm to accompany his attempt to woo.
“You are so fucking cheesy. I’m telling the guys about that one.”
“Ah, come on Addison. You love it.”
I went to grab a couple of pounds of butter and decided I could trust my adult husband to get some bread and jam on his own. When I found him in the bakery with our cart, I remembered that I married an overgrown child. There was bread. And there was jam. And also, cookies. Four different kinds of cookies. And a thing of strudel. Which, to be honest, I wasn’t that upset about because it’s like the best pastry. But the point is that it was there.
“I asked you to get bread and jam. Not half of the baked goods in the store.”
“But cookies are delicious Addison. And you like their chocolate chip cookies. And for some reason I still don’t understand, plain oatmeal cookies. Don’t even lie and say the strudel was a bad idea.”
“So, the sugar cookies and M&M ones are just to look pretty on the counter?”
“No. Those ones are for me.”
“I married a fuckin’ child.” I muttered softly. We turned when we heard a quiet chuckle behind us. A cute little old couple was watching our interaction with giant smiles.
“Mine still does the same thing dearie.” The woman said to me.
“Remember, we don’t grow up. We just get bigger.” The man smiled.
“I’m beginning to realize.” I laughed.
“See. I told you.” Monty smirked. As if to prove the point they were making, we watched as the man grabbed a container of lemon rolls and placed them in his cart. The woman gave him an exaggerated, exasperated look.
“Wait, how long have the two of you been married?” I asked when they passed us.
“Sixty-five years.” They said together, smiling fondly at each other. Wow. That’s amazing. I was still smiling when we got to the till and checked out.
Our normal routines continued for the rest of the week. School, physio, make dinner, sports, spend time together. The normalcy of it was refreshing.
“You’re scratching.” Monty said offhandedly, without looking up from his notes.
“Am not.”
“You stopped typing five minutes ago Addison.”
“I’m thinking.”
“And scratching.” I rolled my eyes and didn’t respond. I started typing aggressively loud to try and get a rise out of him instead. He didn’t respond at all. Not even an annoyed muscle twitch. We aren’t there yet. Okay. Monty’s phone buzzed on the coffee table beside me. I ignored it. It buzzed again. And then again. Before I could reach for it, he had hobble run over and snatched it out of my reach. I looked at him quizzically. He was trying to think of a reason to be hiding his phone from me. What is going on?
“It’s guy stuff. Jamie is having… girl troubles.”
“Girl troubles.”
“Yeah. His girlfriend but not girlfriend or something is doing stuff.”
“Something and stuff.”
“Yes. So, uh. I’ll be over… over there.” He motioned back to the kitchen table. “You know, dealing with girl troubles.”
“Right.” That was weird. Also, he’s going to pay for the movement in the morning. I went back to my writing and not scratching quietly. Occasionally I would look up over my laptop at Monty. He seemed to be very engrossed in his notes.
“Hey Addison?”
“Hmm?”
“Since the game got cancelled some of us are going over to Jamie’s place tomorrow after school.”
“’Kay.”
“Because girl troubles.”
“Yeah.”
“And stop scratching. You’ll only make the rash worse.”
The next morning, I skipped a shower. Cuddles were too enticing. It was a Friday so I didn’t feel like I had to look all cute. While Monty made himself a smoothie, I grabbed one of his shirts to wear because it was loose enough that it wouldn’t irritate the rash. It finally started to clear up. But now it itches. As though he could hear my thoughts, he called from the kitchen, “stop scratching.”
“Bite me.” I called back.
“If you don’t stop scratching, I will.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” He looked up when he heard me come in the room.
“I was going to wear that today.”
“You have like… fifty more in your half of the closet.”
“I know mum is a history professor, but dad is a businessman. I know he taught you fractions. What I have is not half of the closet.” I merely shrugged. He waved towards the bowl beside the blender. “Chunky monkey with smooth peanut butter.” I sat and took a bite.
“Yum. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Don’t worry about washing the blender. I’ll do it after school.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
School was pretty boring. It was the middle of November, so we were in the awkward not quite midterms but not quite ready for a new unit time. I met Monty at my locker after the last bell. He was waiting for me with Justin and Jamie. “Hey baby.”
“Hey babe. You guys have fun tonight, okay?”
“Yes Ma’am.” Jamie saluted. I shuddered. Monty tried to stifle a laugh.
“Jamie. Do me a favour and never do that again.” I placed a couple of textbooks in my locker. “I’ll see you at home. Can you stop and grab baking powder on your way home tonight?”
“Sure.”
“Why can’t you stop? You’re going straight there.” Justin asked.
“I have a date with a bubble bath.”
“Ooh la la.” Jamie laughed.
“I guess. Didn’t shower this morning and a bath is better for my itching.”
“Oh?” Justin asked.
“I’ll explain later.” I muttered. He furrowed his brow and looked at Monty. I kissed Monty goodbye.
At home, I went to wash my face so I could do the expensive face mask I had been saving for a night alone. I did an exfoliating treatment first and ran my bath. A few scented candles were set on our master bathroom counter and I poured myself a glass of raspberry juice. The book I had been meaning to get around to reading was sitting on the toilet for easy access. Okay fine. One of the books I had been meaning to read. It was very relaxing. I had to dig in the cabinet for my body scrub but found it behind a backup pack of deodorant from Costco. Luckily, the bubble bath was also right there. I poured some in to give it time to foam.
With my face mask done and washed off, I undressed and settled in the tub. The water was boiling hot, just the way I liked it. I sighed and sipped my juice, enjoying a night alone. When the husband is away, wife will pamper. The hot water helped to calm my itching skin. The scrub made my legs nice and smooth before I shaved them and exfoliated a second time. Once the necessaries were taken care of, I could start to relax. Picking up my book, I settled in for the foreseeable future. My book was so interesting and immersive, I completely lost track of time. I was still in the tub when Monty got home. “Addison?” He called when he didn’t find me in the kitchen.
“I’m in the bath.” I called back.
“Okay.” He was opening and closing drawers in our room. He poked his head in the bathroom. “Do you want a glass of water or anything? How long have you been in there?” I paused for a moment to consider. How long had it been?
“What time is it?”
“Almost seven.” My eyes widened.
“Really? Then yeah, I’ll take a glass of water. I’m going to get out right away.” He shut the door behind him and I threw my book across to the door so it didn’t get wet when I got out of the tub.
Once dry and moisturized, I left the bathroom in search of my husband. I found him on the couch scrolling aimlessly through his phone. “I missed you.” I bent behind the back of the couch to kiss his cheek.
“I missed you too. You look very cozy in your fuzzy pyjamas.”
“Why thank you.” I curtsied. He laughed happily. Settling next to him, I laid my head in his lap.
“How was your bath?”
“Amazing. Very relaxing. Oh! And I exfoliated and shaved my legs.” I grinned and lifted my pants leg. “Feel!”
Again, Monty laughed and shook his head. He still reached out and rubbed my leg though. “Very soft and smooth.”
“How was girl problems?”
“I think they’re resolved. It wasn’t as major or as difficult as we thought.”
“That’s good.” I peeked at his phone. He was watching football injury videos. Oh Sweetie. “Hey, how’s your knee?”
“It’s okay. Physio has been helping.”
“I’m glad.” He seemed to realize then that I wasn’t just asking for an update on his progress.
“Oh. I’m just watching this because some of them are funny.”
“Funny?”
“Yeah.” He restarted the video and adjusted his position so I could see too. He was right. Some of them were pretty funny.
It was family brunch Saturday the next day. Scott, Charlie, and Justin all came over. As usual, the four young men were more than happy to eat relatively work free. Monty did have to help me reach a few things and our guests helped set the table. But for the most part, I did the work. It was relaxing for me. Monty still felt a little uncomfortable having me do most of the work in the kitchen, but I didn’t mind. It was my choice to do it. I enjoyed it. And it made things much smoother when I was working solo.
Since it was just a casual pancake breakfast this week and just the five of us, I didn’t really feel a need to shower before they came over. As such, I was still in my pyjamas most of the morning. They didn’t mind. We hung out for a while after brunch together. By the time everyone was getting ready to leave around two, I decided it was time to shower and make myself feel like a human again. “I’m running Scott’s place for a bit. We have a couple of things to go over with Charlie for next week’s game.” Monty explained when I was going to shower.
“No problem. I’ll just be here writing or reading or something.” From the bathroom I could hear him putzing around our room. I didn’t think too much of it. He was probably looking for a playbook or something.
After my shower, I wrapped my towels around me, fully prepared to throw on a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater for the rest of the day. Instead, I was puzzled to find a large white box in the centre of the bed. There was a bow and a single pink Post it note stuck to the lid. It simply said wear me on it in blue ink. I frowned in confusion but opened it anyway. Nestled inside was a classic, Hepburn-esque little black dress. I gasped and covered my mouth in shock. Gently lifting the dress out of the box I held it out at arm’s length to examine it. It was beautiful. This man is full of surprises. Not wanting to wrinkle the dress, I carefully set it on the bed while I grabbed a hanger.
Once it was hung up, I put on a pair of sweats and an old pyjama shirt. In the kitchen, I found another note next to the coffee machine. This one was on a yellow Post it, also in blue ink. No coffee. Look up. I frowned again. Why no coffee? Looking up on the underside of the cabinet, I found another yellow Post it. This one had an arrow pointing towards the living room. There, yet another Post it. This one was blue. There was another arrow pointing at the coat closet. A green Post it was stuck to the closet door. Be ready at 5:00. Wear your matching black pointy shoes. Now I was even more confused. Well, it says be ready. I shrugged and checked my watch. It was just past two. I rolled my eyes at the coffee note and made myself a cup anyway. I wouldn’t need to be up all night, but note be damned. I wanted coffee. I savoured it while I let my thoughts run wild of what could be in store for my night. At home fancy dress dinner? Going out for dinner? A walk in the financial district in the city? Hmmm. By two forty-five, I had finished my coffee and started getting ready.
I carefully put on the dress after I had washed my face again. I decided to curl my hair in tight ringlets so that when I brushed them out, they wouldn’t fall flat immediately. I let them set while I did my makeup. So, I didn’t get makeup all over my dress, I draped a towel around my neck to cover it. The simple black cat eye and blue red lipstick paired wonderfully with the classic, timeless style of the dress. A neutral blush and light bronzer added colour and balance to complete the look. I carefully brushed out the curls into nice waves framing my face. Using a decorative bobby pin, I pulled my bangs away from my face. Exiting our room after putting on my tennis bracelet-a birthday gift from my Gran a couple of years ago- I looked at the clock on the stove. It was four fifty. I had ten minutes to spare. Slipping on my heels, I went through my wallet and took out my ID and credit card. I had assumed that we would be going out and Monty usually kept my cards in his wallet.
The sound of a car pulling into our driveway pulled me from my thoughts. I opened the door when the car door shut. Monty was walking up to the house in a very familiar white dress shirt and black slacks. Damn, he cleans up good. I thought it every time he dressed up, no matter how often I saw it. His eyes widened slightly, and he stopped to take in my look. I stopped him in his tracks. I blushed and did a little twirl. He whistled through his teeth. “You look. Absolutely amazing.”
“You look incredible. Have I ever told you, you clean up really well?”
“Once or twice.” He shrugged. I smiled widely. He finished his walk up to the house and took my hands in his, really taking the time to take me in. “You really do look beautiful Addison.”
“Thank you.” I blushed again. My engagement ring sparkled in the setting sun. Monty’s black tungsten ring felt cool in my hand. Together, we walked to the car. We took my car, but I let him drive. It’s our insurance. “Are you going to tell me where we are going?”
“Nope.” He said as he pulled out of the driveway.
“Okay.” We chatted quietly on the way to our mystery location. Given the time, I assumed we were going to a restaurant. When we got closer to the county limits, I realized we were going into the city for dinner. I watched the cars speeding past us on the highway in the other direction. People were eager to be getting home from spending their days shopping or running errands.
I tried to figure out where we were going once we got to the city based on the turns Monty made. I was familiar with most of the downtown and financial districts due to visiting my dad at work when I was younger. I was a little surprised when he pulled in the parking lot for the new Italian place that opened last month. I wasn’t surprised because I was concerned about cost or anything like that. We just weren’t really fancy restaurant people very often. It was a pleasant surprise.
When he parked, we walked hand in hand to the door. He was a perfect gentleman and held the door not only for me but for the couple behind us. I smiled at him while we waited to be seated. He squeezed my hand. We were seated at a more secluded table, closer to the back of the restaurant. The table was lit by candlelight and dim recessed lighting in the aisle. It’s beautiful. Our waiter came by and introduced himself as Anthony. I ordered a cranberry juice with ice and Monty got a Coke. Anthony gave us a few minutes with the menus. As soon as I saw traditional carbonara on the menu, I had made a firm decision. Monty and I sat in comfortable silence while we perused the menu. Even though I knew what I wanted, it never hurt to look at the other options.
After we ordered-carbonara for me and lobster ravioli for Monty-Anthony left us to our evening. “This is really nice.” I said, after a sip of my juice.
“I figured we deserved nice. Or rather, you deserved nice. After everything… and I know you’ve been stressed about school. So, I figured you could use a night off.” He left the obvious tension between us and the cause for it unsaid. We both knew the reason.
“It’s still nice. And we do deserve it. This dress is beautiful by the way.”
“I thought you would like it.”
“When exactly did you acquire it?” I asked, with a sly raise of my brow.
“About yesterday…” Montgomery began, “Jamie wasn’t having girl troubles.”
“I kind of figured. Have they even decided if they have anything to have troubles over?”
“No. They’re still not together. But they go places together and buy each other things. And have sex. Apparently, there is a lot of sex.”
“But they aren’t dating.”
“No.”
“Maybe he is having girl troubles.”
“Maybe.” He chuckled. Anthony came by with our orders. Unsurprisingly, the food was delicious. Mouth wateringly delicious. My eyes widened in ecstasy. So did Monty’s after he took a bite of his own food. We each shared a bite with each other and smiled. So good. So so good.
We spent the rest of our evening talking and enjoying being with each other. It was very nice. We hadn’t gotten to do the whole going out and just being together thing in a while. I pushed the last of my carbonara around on my plate. I wasn’t bored exactly. I was having a wonderful time. “Hey. Where’d you go?” Monty reached across the table to take my hand.
“Oh. Nowhere. I was just thinking.”
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“This is really nice.” I paused.
“But…?”
“I would honestly much rather be at home in sweatpants watching the new episodes of Law & Order from the other night.”
“Me too.” He giggled. I couldn’t help but giggle along with him. He motioned to our waiter for the bill. The black holder was placed in between us. Monty placed some cash inside and set it down without so much as a glance at me. He helped me with my coat and took my hand after he put on his own. As soon as we got out of the restaurant, I stopped and turned to him.
“Race you to the car.” I grinned before taking off like a bat out of hell. I heard him bark out a laugh behind me. I didn’t look back. Nor did I turn when I heard his footsteps. He wasn’t running because of his knee. They were getting closer though. Even without running, he was able to gain on me because of his gait. Running in heels was not the easiest thing in the world but I managed to beat him to the car. When he arrived with the keys, I was grinning at him, triumphantly from the passenger’s side. “I won.”
“Yes you did.” He was grinning back at me.
When we got home, the two of us changed into our comfiest sweatpants and t-shirts. I threw on my old Tigers hoodie and popped a bag of popcorn in the microwave after taking off my makeup. Monty pulled up the recorded episodes. I couldn’t tell if he wore his grey sweats on purpose or not. We got comfortable on the couch and hit play. From the get-go this episode of SVU had both of us on the edge of our seats. The popcorn was mostly untouched. I teared up multiple times. When it was over, I ripped the remote from the coffee table and scrolled up to the new episode of Organized Crime. I couldn’t stand to wait any longer than strictly necessary. Our eyes were glued to the screen for the whole hour, minus the fast forwarding through commercials. By the end, we turned to each other in shock. “Wow.” Was all I could say about it.
“The new theme song is pretty great.”
“Yes. I don’t know how to process any other thoughts about it though.”
“Me either.”
“Very worth the wait.” Monty only nodded in response. I yawned and stretched. It was getting pretty late. The afternoon coffee I had wore off a while ago.
“Tired Bookworm?” I yawned again and nodded. Monty carried me to bed and tucked me in. I cuddled up beside him.
Before falling asleep I mumbled, “thank you for tonight. Was really nice. Ni’ night.”
#montgomery de la cruz#monty de la Cruz fanfic#monty de la cruz#monty imagine#monty x reader#montgomery de la cruz x oc#montgomery de la cruz imagine#montgomery de la cruz x reader#justin foley jensen#scott reed#Thirteen Reasons Why#13 reasons why#13rw#13 rw#Can’t Go Back#cant go back#fanfiction#fan fiction#fanfic#fanfic writing#writeblr#creative writing#feedback
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A new start
In which John and Olivia move to the countryside with new identities tô start a new life post tfatws. Might be considered a fix it fic I guess? I just want my babies to have a kind of happily ever after. Hella Domestic. Also I don't live in the US so there might be some cultural and grammatical mistakes. Sue me. Hope y'all enjoy.
All the kids in the seventh grade class quickly sat down and made silence when the teacher announced they would have one of those Captain America educacional vids. They were still too young to find those cringe.
Olivia pressed the button and Sam Wilson showed up on the television. Some kids clapped, other cheered. The teacher remained in silence. Having a black Capitain America wasn't even in her wildest dreams growing up. Yet there he was. And yet Olivia couldn't help but feel a little bittersweet taste in her tongue. She was happy for Sam of course. But, an that the children on the class wouldn't learn on tv, the history of the shield is not as bright and heroic as Sam makes it seem to be.
After all her classes, before Olivia could leave the staffroom one of her colleagues called her name.
"Maria. We're going to Joe's tonight just for a couple drinks. It's still four of course!" She laughed, "Wanna come?"
Maria. Yeah. That's the name she chose. The people of witness protection liked it and so did John - now Jack. They decided to rename themselves after their favorite drink so John chose Jack after Jack Daniels and Olivia chose Maria after Tia Maria.
"I would love to but I have the thing tonight. Remember?"
"Oh right! The thing!"
Olivia gave her colleague a bright smile before leaving the staffroom. She preferred to go home by bike but at that time of the year it was super cold at Springville so the car was her option of the day. It took her half an hour to get to her new home.
The suburban house was simple. It had no second floor and no fence on the front. The walls were painted a dark green like olive and the door was carved with flowers. Olivia parked the car and entered the front door quickly to avoid the cold. The lights were all off. Olivia screamed Jack's name (just in case) and received a response from the backyard.
"I'm right here!" John said loud enough for Olivia to hear.
Olivia took off her gloves but not the scarf. She put her keys on the wooden table by the door where a couple photographs were. Usually none of them would pay much attention to them but tonight Olivia took a few extra seconds to look at one particular photograph. Herself, along with John and Lemar in their 20's. They had just gotten back from Afghanistan and spent a whole weekend partying and drinking together. Including of course jack Daniels, Tia Maria and Smirnoff, Lemar's favorite. Olivia smiled sadly before putting the photo back.
She then preceded to cross the small house onto the backyard where John was sitting by the fire. Once he heard her steps, John looked back to face his wife. His blue eyes met her hazel eyes and both of them smiled with their whole body.
"You look amazing." He said.
"I'm literally wearing work clothes Jack."
"which only makes it more amazing. Besides," he looked around quickly "we are alone... Olivia"
Olivia smiled and sat by John's side
"Okay... John."
He kissed her cheek and his thick beard made her tickle all over. Since everyone knew John's face duo to his time as Captain America he needed to keep that beard. It was the first time John ever let his beard grow that much. He said it was unconformable, but Olivia liked it a lot. It made him look like a character from a tv show they've been watching.
They just sat by the fire for a while. It was still daytime but the sky was filled with dark clouds. Olivia was the one who broke the silence.
"Crazy few months, right?" She tried to smile.
"yeah.." john tilted his head swiftly. "From hero to zero."
"Don't say that. You did your best."
"Did I?" John took a big breath. The cold air didn't bother him much. He was still getting used to it though. "I was not the hero they wanted me to be."
They both stayed in silence a little more. It was just so complicated. Olivia loved John like she's never loved anyone. Still even her couldn't say he was a saint.
"Did you bought it?" She said after a while.
"Yeahs, of course."
John grabbed a bottle of Smirnoff from the cold wet grass. They both looked at it in silence. If they had guests John would pretend to struggle while opening the bottle. Instead he opened the bottle effortlessly.
"I'll go first. Because, you known.. I won't.."
"Yeah yeah. Go ahead."
John drank like it was fucking water. His throat felt the burn but his brain remained intact. He then passed the bottle to Olivia who took a smaller dose. It was enough to make her head spin though.
"He would've loved Springville." Olivia said coughing.
"He really would!" John laughed.
Olivia laughed as well. Suddenly they started laughing out loud. But not for much. Their laughter got poisoned by grief like it did many other times in the past months. John drank so more.
"I can't believe it's been a year already." Olivia sighted.
"To Lemar!" John said.
"To Lemar!" Olivia repeated.
They continued drinking.
#john walker positive post#Olivia walker positive post#johnolivia#lemar hoskins positive post#tfatws spoilers#the falcon and the winter soldier spoilers#john Walker#olivia walker#Springville AU#FoxtrotFanfic
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4 and/or 49 for the micro story prompts, for Adiran and/or Riin? :D
Thank you for the prompt! It took me a while to think of something but it is finally here! For context, this scene takes place before the tournament, but after Adiran’s older brother has returned to the palace. Adiran was a bit more of a mess than usual for that frame of time, and wanted nothing more than to get away from it all, even if only for a while...
4. one chance AND 49. nightfall
Most evenings, Adiran spent his time in quiet reflection. And by quiet reflection, he meant locking himself in his chambers with a bottle of something that wouldn’t be missed and the shelve of books Leisha had been collecting for him ever since he’d been limited to the palace grounds. Normally, that would be enough to get him by until dawn, when he’d wake with a throbbing headache and just enough regret to make the morning miserable.
But things weren’t normal anymore. It wasn’t enough.
Nothing ever seemed like enough.
It was almost like sleepwalking, the way he ‘woke up’ from his usual routine to find himself cloaked and standing in the shade of one of the pines in the eastern garden. It was just past nightfall. Almost time.
Adiran could feel his heart hammering in his chest. Mindlessly, he pressed a hand over it, as though to still it. Smother it. Divider - do something with it, because he just realised he hadn’t even figured out what he was going to say, or how he was going to convince him, or---
“Adiran? Is that---”
“ ---Shhh! Idiot - shut up.”
As far as winning Riin over went, opening with a hissed insult probably wasn’t the wisest move. But with his heart in his skull and his hands damp with sweat, finesse was so far from Adiran’s grasp that it might as well have sprouted wings and flown across The Pale. Instead, he grabbed Riin by the sleeve and pulled him out of the torchlit path, into the shadow of one of the trees.
The branches were so low that Riin had to duck slightly just to clear them. To his credit, he hardly seemed fazed by Adiran’s sudden appearance. At least, not in the way Adiran had expected. Instead of getting angry or irritated by the interruption to his routine, Riin’s surprise melted away almost instantly. Instead, a familiar expression replaced it. One Adiran really didn’t need right now.
“What are you... are you alright? Adiran, did something happen?”
And there it was, right on schedule. The guilt. Adiran felt it like a knife to the gut. He could see Riin not-so-subtly trying to get a better look at him, squinting in the dark. “No, I’m... nothing’s wrong.” After having spent so much of the past three years with him, he could sense the man’s desire to push back the hood of his cloak. Reveal whatever ugly mark lay beneath it. Pre-emptively, Adiran reached out and grasped him by the wrists, his voice urgent. “I’m serious, Riin. It’s not what you’re thinking, okay?”
Riin searched his eyes for a moment, not resisting the makeshift restraint, but clearly skeptical. And who could blame him? It was more than a little strange for Adiran to ambush him on his usual trip out into the city. For years, he’d gone every half-turn, reliable as Valcretian clockwork. And he went alone. “Then maybe,” Riin said eventually, “you can help me out, and tell me what I should be thinking.”
Stomach lurching, Adiran released him and stepped back, almost running into the trunk of the tree in his haste. “Fuck. Right. I’m just -- I mean, I just want to...” Flustered, his eyes darted quickly to the palace, the wall, the unmanned side-gate. Focus. Damn it, he only had one chance at this. Convincing him. He couldn’t afford to screw it up.
It seemed he already was, because concern was all but etched into the lines of Riin’s face. “Adiran, I know you said not to worry, but you’re really starting to---”
--- “Take me.” The words rushed out of him before he even had a chance to check their credentials, but at the stunned look on Riin’s face, the rest hurried to catch up. “With you! Take me with you. To the city. Wherever it is you’re going. I don’t care. Just... take me too.”
The initial shock of what sounded like a very different kind of proposition was frozen on Riin’s face for a moment, his eyes wide, lips parted in what could have conceivably been the beginnings of a smile. A laugh. Disbelief. Something like that. But, after a few beats, the expression slowly faded, leaving the two of them standing there in the growing dark, nothing but the sound of trickling water and stirring insects dared share their company.
It just so happened that any silence, no matter how small, was too much for Adiran to bear right now.
“Forget it,” he snapped suddenly. Hands sweating. Chest aching. He had to get out of here. “Look, just forget I said anything. This was...” Stupid. So utterly, completely, fucking stupid. Standing there now, faced with the reality of what he was asking, a thousand uncomfortable truths seemed to crash down on his head. Riin’s contract was with his father. Not him. He shouldn’t have come here - shouldn’t have said anything at all, yet alone asked him to defy the King because... what? Because he felt like he was losing his mind? Felt pathetic? Felt utterly, crushingly lonely?
So fucking what.
“This was a mistake, okay?”Adiran continued, already bundling his cloak around him like a useless shell. “I know you can’t. I get it. I’ll just...” Mid-sentence, Adiran made what he assumed would be a fatal mistake. He looked up. Met Riin’s gaze, and found him...
... smiling?
“Oh - are you finished? If you need a little longer to, ah...” Wrinkling his nose, Riin made a vague gesture - a little like throwing something up, if Adiran was to be perfectly honest. Regardless, it was startling enough to stem his flood of words before he drowned in them. “I can wait, is what I’m saying,” Riin elaborated quickly, eyes glittering in the dim light. “It’s better you do this here, rather than down there in some tavern. There’s no need for awkward explanations when it’s just the two of us under a tree.”
Rather than down in some... wait... was he...?
“Wait... are you serious? Riin, if you’re caught doing this...” He should be elated! This was what he wanted, right? But instead, Adiran found himself shaking his head, some wordless instinct still trying to drag him back inside. Back to his chambers. Back to another night alone, where it was quiet and cold but safe. Honestly, he didn’t know what would happen if they were discovered defying the King’s orders. He doubted his father would sever his contract with a Kyriin - especially not so close to its successful completion. Worst case scenario, he’d probably end Riin’s duty as his training partner, and return him to loitering at his side like some miserable Crownsguard. But even that... “Damn it. I shouldn’t have asked. We both know I’m a selfish prick, so just do me a favour and forget I was even here.”
“Mmm, yes. How selfish of you, to be this worried about my well-being. You truly are your father’s son.” Even in jest, they both cringed slightly at the remark. “Sorry, I... what I mean is... it has been three years, hasn’t it? Has the King even told you when he plans to put an end to this?”
Sighing tightly, Adiran shook his head. “You know him about as well as I do. He doesn’t let things go.”
“You have already been punished more than enough for what happened.”
“Somehow, I doubt he’d agree.” A familiar sick feeling stirred in his stomach. “Riin, my father killed a man - hanged him in the square - just to send me a message. Just to make a point. This...” Swallowing, Adiran felt his gaze being pulled back towards the palace. “This is nothing. Not compared to that. I shouldn’t be out here.”
How could he possibly complain? He was alive. Breathing. That was more than could be said for others who had crossed the Talveran King.
Suddenly, there was a weight on his shoulder. Warm. Steady. It drew him back to the garden. Back to the tree and the trickling water and the cicadas. “You are not to blame for what your father did, Adiran.” Riin squeezed gently, leaning forward to catch his gaze. “And believe me, you are far from the first person to find themselves in a drunken brawl. Neither you or the other man deserve what happened. What is still happening.”
“But I---”
“Did you kill him? The man you fought.”
Adiran looked away. “I might as well have.”
“No - look at me.” Clenching his jaw, Adiran resisted for a moment, wishing they weren’t having this damned conversation, before finally giving in just to get it over with. “Good,” Riin said. “Now, did you order the hanging?”
“What? Of course not!”
“Then what did you demand?”
“Demand?“
“As compensation for your injuries.”
“Divider’s Own, Riin - nothing! We were drunk, and yeah, we acted like a couple of assholes. But I... I figured the city guard was just going to hold him until he sobered up. I didn’t even know I’d been recognised---”
Another squeeze, firmer this time. Adiran broke off, realising he was breathing hard. Too hard. Hard enough to have been mid-sprint. Nodding rapidly, he squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to calm down. Tried to focus on Riin’s unnatural warmth. His hand on his shoulder. His voice, softer now, as he spoke again. “Adiran... I’m taking you with me tonight. Okay? In truth, I’ve wanted to for a long time.” Something brushed gently against his jaw - the back of a finger? - prompting Adiran to raise his chin and reopen his eyes. “Listen to me. You need this. I’m glad you’re here.”
What more could possibly be said? To deny the truth was pointless. And with those amber eyes staring straight through him, how could he even begin to try?
“Why?” was all he managed instead, and the answer was delivered with a frown. Not of anger, but genuine confusion.
“Why am I glad?”
“No, I mean... why?” Realising, with the help of Riin’s flat stare, that he was being far from helpful, Adiran grunted and forced himself to try again. “You... you know the risks. Why would you agree to this at all?”
To his surprise, Riin relaxed. It wasn’t quite the reaction Adiran had expected; after all, it wasn’t exactly an easy question. But when Riin’s smile returned, warm and soft and reassuring, it suddenly seemed like it was.
“Because you asked me to.”
That was it? Just because he asked? Divider’s Own, that wasn’t a reason! Not a real one.
Was it?
As the silence lingered, Riin eventually arched one dark brow, something akin to amusement in his eyes. “Do you... need some other reason?”
Fuck, he was infuriating sometimes. Completely insufferable. Folding his arms across his chest, Adiran snorted and looked away, doing his best to reassert some kind of control over the mess he’d created. “I mean, it’d probably make me feel better about losing my shit before, yeah.”
Sometimes it was strange, how much Riin appreciated unfiltered honesty. Surprised, he started to laugh, then caught himself, glancing around gingerly, making sure he hadn’t given them away. “Well,” he continued more conservatively, turning back, “it’s a nice evening, and we’ve got a fair walk to where I planned to go tonight. We should head out.” Smiling, he slid his hand from Adiran’s shoulder to his back, applying just enough pressure to coax him gently towards the side gate. “I’ll try to come up with something better along the way.”
“Uh-huh. You’d better.” Adiran rolled his eyes, but they both knew his heart wasn’t in it. Not really. Because what better reason - what better words than the five Riin had already given - could possibly be said?
No, Adiran decided as they slipped through the gate and he found himself free of the palace for the first time in three years. To deny the truth really was pointless.
#micro story prompts#stonebreaker series#reluctant writes#reluctant replies#adiran#riin#they care about each other so much that it is physically painful#but Adiran would rather die than admit it#and Riin would shout it from the peak of a mountain if he knew Adiran wouldn't climb all the way up just to push him off#thanks for the prompt! sorry it is so far from micro hahahahah *Sweats*#<3#the-fluffynug#ya boi is stressed
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Part II
"mingi + mafia au + you shouldn't have done that"
Read Part I
2.5k, lots of people asked for part 2 to this so here you go! warnings for angst and language! hongjoong is prominent here and also scary lol. thank you!!
he said they would make an example out of you. mingi said it so easily, without a hint of remorse in his eyes.
so maybe that’s why they put a blindfold over your eyes and duck tape over your mouth, why they shoved you out of your apartment (you think by the one you knocked over the head since he seems to enjoy making you stumble blindly into walls the entire walk out of your building). your hands are sweaty and your fingers curl around the hem of your shirt, on edge.
you hate the silence, it just puts you more on edge, your heart lodged in your throat. even as one of them shoved you into a car, not even bothering to set you upright as they drove to god-knows-where. you almost wish someone would have yelled at you, wish you didn’t have to lay on your side, unable to see or really breathe properly and think too many thoughts about mingi. you missed him and he was going to kill you, or worse, and you were terrified.
by the time the car came to halt, by the time you were dragged out the car (you’d stumbled, scraping your knees on asphalt before getting yanked up so hard, you thought they were trying to pull your arm out of its socket), by the time you’re shoved forward, knees buckling under you, by the time everything seemed to finally stop, you knew you had no more fight left in you. you were still angry, of course you were, but you also couldn’t stop thinking. a part of you didn’t want the blindfold to come off. you didn’t want to stare down the barrel of yet another gun, especially not if mingi was behind it.
but, the blindfold comes off.
you blink, eyes adjusting to the bright lights around you. you can’t quite make out where you are, and your terrified brain seems to only be able to latch on to small details. like a defense mechanism. the floor beneath you a dark cherry wood, the fancy kind you see on home improvement shows. there’s no carpet. you look up. there are plants, green, bright, out of place. plastic. there’s plastic laid out around you, to catch paint. or maybe blood, your stupid brain supplies, making your heart drop.
it takes a moment too long to register the black boots in front of you, but when you do, a chill runs right down your spine as your eyes travel upwards. a man crouches in front of you. he’s small, his features sharp, but a little delicate, pretty almost. his eyes, however, contain a sort of intensity that makes your stomach churn. he radiates a sort of power that looms over him, making him bigger. all your instincts scream at you to run. but you can’t.
he smiles politely, but there is nothing kind about it. your laptop is balanced in his hands as he crouches in front of you. his voice is controlled, pointed, business-like, chilling. “so you’re the one who’s been trying to hack into our systems?”
your words are caught in your throat. you nod, quickly. the man just nods, once, before he slowly sets your laptop down on the floor in front of you, opening it.
“I'm told you have no idea who ordered you to hack our systems.”
slowly, you nod your head.
slowly, he reaches out, taps a single finger against the top of your laptop, and he says, “log in. show us where you communicate with your clients.”
you hesitate, despite everything, fingers curling into fists against the dark wood floors. your nails scratch against the hardwood, just a bit. us, he said. you glance over your shoulder and there are eyes on you, too many. mingi, too, eyes blank, expressionless, as if you’re only a stranger. that causes something to shift inside you. maybe, it’s your sanity. maybe, it’s just anger. maybe, it’s the knowledge that once you log in to your laptop and give them the information they want, you’re dead. you don’t want to die.
“I don’t log communication with my clients. not permanently.” your voice is not steady at all, but it’s the best you can do, especially as you look the man in front of you in the eyes.
“that’s not what I asked of you.” the man stares right back, unblinking, and his tone is sharp, raising just a bit.
there’s a scoff from behind you. you stare right back, straightening up, fists curling in your lap, “i’m not doing it.”
he simply raises a brow at you.
your mouth runs on autopilot, “I usually require payment before I give people information. this,” you gesture at your laptop, barely breathing, “is information. you clearly want that information, so I want something in return.”
there’s a snicker behind you, of disbelief, before silence blankets over the room, so heavy and full that it has you holding your breath. still, you don’t look away first, holding the man’s gaze.
he stares and stares until he breaks into a grin that is all teeth, “let me guess? you want us to let you go?”
"yes." you nod, as steadily as you can, try to lighten the mood, “a couple million won doesn’t hurt either.”
he snorts and, for a moment, you think he’ll agree. but, then, his demeanor changes completely, the polite smile dropping. he’s still crouched in front of you, but his hand shoots out, grabbing your face, making you yelp. he yanks you forward, making you lose your balance, until your face is mere inches from his, and he bites out, “I like your enthusiasm, but I do not tolerate threats.” you gulp, just as he shoves your face into your laptop.
“look,” he continues, “I promised mingi I would let him decide how to kill you. but, if you keep refusing to do as I asked, I might have to hand you off to san.”
he looks over your shoulder and you follow his gaze, to a familiar face grinning, too amused; you recognize him quickly as the one you nearly knocked out with the lamp and you groan internally, because, of course, you had to attack the sadistic, vengeful one. you try so hard not to think about the slight relief at what he had said, at the familiarity of mingi’s name, try not to think about the stony look passing his features before you looked at san.
“now,” he reaches out, taps your cheek, the same way he had with your laptop earlier. you barely suppress the flinch as he says, “be a good little hacker and do as you’re told.”
you hesitate, fists clenching at his tone. he tilts his head, eyes narrowing, nail digging slightly into your cheek. your heart jumps in your chest, stomach twisting. your hands move on their own accord, finding your laptop quickly. you type in your password with shaking fingers. the man’s expression smooths out at your actions, back into pristine politeness.
“good job, sweetheart.” he coos.
~.~.~.~.~
you’re shoved into him. maybe it’s the exhaustion that comes with being forced to unveil the ins and outs of a system you spent years building (to a man named yeosang), maybe it’s the tension that hasn’t left you since the screen changed on your laptop back at your apartment, maybe it’s something else, but you’re angry, scowling at the man for shoving you.
all he does is snort at your expression before looking over your shoulder, gaze pointed. and then someone is grabbing you by the shoulders, pulling you out of the room, and you look up, craning your neck a bit because he’s stupidly tall and -
“I can walk on my own.” you don’t mean to shout. it’s like all the pent-up anger from being pushed around has finally burst after seeing a familiar face. you don’t even know if he’ll treat you the same way his boss was treating you, but somehow your brain still sees song mingi and thinks safe, despite the current circumstances. despite the years.
for a moment, everything is silent, too silent, and you can’t read his expression nor his body language. you cringe when he gestures ahead, his voice low, familiar, as he says, “go down the hall and enter the third door on the left.” you don’t move. he adds, tone sharper now, “go.”
anger boils under your skin, but you follow his directions because you can still see the open door where that man, and san, and yeosang, and the others are and you don’t want to come face-to-face with any of them again.
when you open the door he indicated, you’re surprised to see a bedroom. it looks lived in. you blink, even as he shuts the door behind him, locking it from the inside. he’s so quiet as he brushes past you, to the dresser, and starts digging through the drawers. his movements are all stiff, his back tense, and your anger only grows and grows, as if his presence is allowing you the space and comfort to feel the emotions you had suppressed, both throughout the years as well as this evening.
when he finally, finally, turns to face you, your hands are balled into tight fists at your side, your body coiled so tightly, you’re afraid you’ll break.
he’s holding sweats, a t-shirt, and a towel. he says, tone clipped, angry, even though you think he has no right to be angry, “go change. if you want, you can shower, too.”
“what the fuck.” you burst and you want to scream, but your voice cracks at the last word. you stare at him disbelief. “what the fuck are you doing right now?”
“I’m taking care of you.” he snaps, sharp as a knife, nothing like the soft boy you’d known all your life. his jar is clenched, as if he is holding himself back. “you look like shit.”
“because of you.” you cry, irritated.
“no!” mingi seems to snap then, throwing the clothes and towel on the bed before he stalks forward, pointing at you. “do not fucking blame me for this. you are here because of you, not me.”
“you and your gang kidnapped me. how the hell is this my fault?”
“you’re not supposed to be here.” mingi raises his voice, not nearly as loud as your voice, but still as loud as thunder. “you’re supposed to be somewhere out in the world with a cushy desk job, a nice steady relationship, and maybe a fucking dog. you were supposed to be doing great things. you promised me you would do great things.”
the way his voice cracks, breaks away into a sort of vulnerability, a fear, causes a lump in your throat. you know he’s right. you know it. “shit happens, mingi. life isn’t a fairy tale.” your voice is barely louder than a whisper, hoarse.
“I know.” he stares at the floor, shoulders slumping, and you think he knows better than anyone. the look in his eyes tells you he's seen too much for someone his age. he sighs, “I heard about uncle. I’m sorry.”
“you weren’t there when I needed you.” your fingernails dig into your palm. he meets your gaze and the steely gaze drops, finally, finally. he looks at you the way you imagined he would have if he was there when he should have been.
“I just...I wanted to keep you away from all this.” he gestures behind you, past the door. “from me.”
“that wasn’t your decision to make, mingi.” you shake your head, trying to gulp down the lump in your throat. “not on your own.”
his eyes shine under the fluorescent room lighting and something about the way he stands there, an arms-length away from you, makes him seem so...small. there’s guilt there, in his expression, especially as he nods, “I know, I know.” he takes a deep, steadying breath, reminding you of how much he used to cry, how bad he was at holding it in, how he’s changed so much since then. he whispers, “I really am sorry.”
you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, not yet, but you find yourself slowly stepping forward, until you’re right in front of him. mingi looks down at you, with shining eyes and guilt and regret, and it hurts your heart in ways you never thought. slowly, hesitantly, he opens his arms. you step into his outstretched arms, breathing in his scent, and, for the first time that night, you feel safe. or, at least, safer than you have felt in a long, long time.
“I wish you didn’t end up here.” he murmurs, after a beat, his breath warm against the top of your head, his fingers drawing little patterns along your back as he pulls you in tight. something in his tone sets off little alarms. there’s too much guilt there, too much meaning. he shakes a little under your touch.
your fingers tighten around the back of his shirt, the hairs raising at the back of your neck as you tilt your head back, looking up at him. the realization isn’t a slow-dawning thing. you’ve always been smart. you’ve always been good at reading between the lines.
“he said you’re supposed to decide how to kill me.” you’re whispering. “is that...are you...”
you trail off as his fingers flex in your hair. you search his eyes, notice he’s not crying, like the old him would have. that there’s steeliness there, a hardiness that has your grip around his waist tightening even more.
“you were never, ever supposed to get wrapped up in all this.” he chokes out his words, emotions overwhelming. and you think, despite the years that’s separated the two of you, your history still remains, it still colors your thoughts, actions, and your memories. the love you two held for each other still brings you to your knees, despite how hard you tried to forget it. you think platonic love is harder to forget, harder to erase, and the way mingi looks at you, with fondness and guilt and deep, deep care, reminds you of that. you think he will shatter any moment when he murmurs, “we were never supposed to meet again.”
"it's okay." slowly, you murmur, “maybe, we’ll meet again someday. in another life.”
this new mingi crumbles into the old one, the one you loved so very much, his expression twisting.
“yeah?” he asks, like you hold the secrets of the universe.
“yeah.” you respond and you hope you are right.
(that night you stay up, curled up on your side, and you tell him everything he’s missed. he tells you everything you’ve missed, too. you talk and you laugh and you cry and you pretend like you’re only catching up for the sake of catching up.
you revel in how much you've missed him. maybe, you can’t forgive him (you don’t think you ever really can) but you’ve missed him terribly.
even as he strokes your hair, tears unshed, shushing you gently as the sun comes up. even as he kills you.)
#song mingi#ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez angst#mingi angst#requests#i hope yall like this!!! it's ...sad omg#also pls send in more requests!!!!
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Arrow 8x09 Brain Dump
It was...not all bad. I really want to like this. I love Mia, William and FTA. I want to enjoy BS like I did in S7. I want to see Dinah written consistently with any kind of actual character. Well, at least my love for FTA is still intact 😂😂
Mia
Kat was brilliant in this episode. Her leading lady really jumped out 😂😂 Her emotional moments hit the mark, and I think she juggled her post-Crisis new life with her old memories brilliantly.
We opened on her waking up in the Queen mansion(!), with a very yummy Diggle Jr in her bed, only it’s JJ not Connor 😱😱 She’s also surrounded by adorable family photos, showing that Oliver got his wish of her and William growing up together (and confirmation that the Olicity Love Cabin still existed!) Basically, she’s living the best life that Oliver could have wished for her, without him in it, of course 😭
Probably the most notable change in ‘new Mia’ (other than her being infinitely happier and living in a crime-free city) was her social poise. She’s been brought up in Oliver Queen’s old world, and is quite the socialite, only without any of the haughty frivolity that one might expect (I imagine we have Felicity for that 😍). She loves her life and her friends, and she defends them, especially in the face of Laurel, who seemingly does nothing but scoff at her lifestyle for the whole episode 😒 I loved her addressing the press!! That was pure Queen! Maybe the influence of a certain Aunt Thea?
Source: feilcityqueen
More below the cut…
Basically this Mia is smart and loving and happy, and Oliver gave her a warm and otherwise full life, save for finding her true purpose (which is gonna be vigilanteing, of course). So of course BS and Dinah rock up and upend it all 😂 I really liked how they made the returning of Mia’s memories a source of conflict, as well they should. It was so brutal to just return them with no preamble, to destroy what happiness Oliver had given back to her, just because, what? BS couldn’t complete her own fucking mission? (More of that later lol) Then Mia standing up to BS when she went as far as to mock Mia’s new world, just gave me life!!!
Anyway, with her memories restored, and bad guys to track down, of course Mia couldn’t resist her heroic calling and suited up, then proceeded to be the epic badass that we have grown to love.
Source: kathmcnamara
I loved seeing her struggle with her memories returning, and the guilt that they brought with them of not living up to Oliver’s legacy. At the same time, she appreciates what Oliver did for her, that all he wanted for his family and the city was to be safe and happy. She ultimately decides to remain the Green Arrow, taking up the guard of her city in her father’s memory, to protect the new world that he sacrificed himself to create.
Source: felicityqueen
We’d seen she’d developed her ‘street smarts’ in the flash-forwards, so I think she’ll end up bringing these together with her new social skills, and badass moves, and be an unstoppable force!! Hopefully that will include her old FTA team as well, and not just the two feathered ones 🙄
FTA/JJ
God this needed more FTA.
We got a small amount of William, more of JJ, what with him being Mia’s fiance (!!), and little more than fleeting glances of Zoe (!) and Connor. The disrespect!! 😂
William (who even knows his surname in this new life?) continues to hold my whole heart in his hands 😍😍
Source: oliverxfelicity
LOOK AT HIM!!!!💗💗💗
He seems to have been least affected in terms of his character, post-crisis. It’s implied that he’s running Smoak Tech, and that he and Mia grew up together and are basically each others’ ride-or-dies 😭😍😭
I truly hope if the show is picked up, that they increase the William content by a solid 1000% 😂 He brings so much heart and a certain humour and lightness, just like Felicity brought to Arrow, and Ben is such an amazing actor. The new show will need a William. BADLY. He really seems to have his shit together (in the very limited time we have seen him of course 😒), but I’m hoping that that doesn’t lead to Mia keeping her memories from him for long (although remembering who their Dad is, I’m guessing she could take a while 😂😂).
So JJ proposes to Mia at the beginning of the episode!!!! Apparently they are the love of each others lives here. Dig clearly learned from what Connor told him, and steered JJ away from becoming a murdering gangster...YAY! Although it seems that in doing so, our darling boy Connor ran into a few issues of his own 😫😫 It looks like there is no love lost between him and Mia, that he has been in and out of rehab, and is now somewhat of a bad boy 😏😏 But when they first lock eyes there is still definite history and heat there and, just HJJHDFVGDFK 🔥 BACKSTORY IS NEEDED!! Then at the end, JJ has his memories restored by scary-dude-in-cloak (who I was totally hoping would be Dig or Oliver tbh 😂), so I’m super interested to see how he copes with his dual memories!! So now Mia loves JJ, but knows he was evil and killed Zoe, and she hated Connor, but now remembers they had feelings for each other and that he is a beautiful soul, and all the shit is gonna hit the fan!!! I usually hate love triangles, but this is so exciting, with the good boy/bad boy switch up, and then the opposite memories being returned...YAAAAASSSS!! Although I’d like to make it clear that, whilst I’m going to enjoy the drama getting there, I am firmly in the SmoaknHawke end game camp!!
And as excited as I just got, all of this took up just about 5 mins of screen time 😫😫 It reminds me of what Arrow was lacking in its early episodes...heart and hope. They lucked into it with Felicity/Emily, but they have it here, ready and waiting, and are so far not using it.
Kat knows what’s what. This is the show we deserve.
Birds
There was a lot of bird action. Apparently in shaping a perfect future, Oliver saw fit that Mia never met BS or Dinah...this is why we stan 😂😂 Dinah has also seemingly been erased from the history books 😬, waking up after Oliver’s funeral (😒😭) 20 years in the future, so naturally becomes a bohemian, opens a bar and sings a lot. Cool, I’d probably do the same 😂😂 Laurel, it seems, went off to spend time with Sara, and has apparently become a solo time-traveller, trying to stop 2041 from becoming a really bad year. Righto.
Dinah was actually ok in this episode, if not hugely out of character, but that in itself has been inconsistent throughout the show, so here’s hoping that the zen-filled peacemaker that she was in this episode continues! Dinah’s new-found peace and bearability seemingly comes at the cost of Laurel being utterly awful. She rocked up in the future like Billy Big Bollocks with a huge chip on her shoulder, just sneering her way through the episode. She had such bitterness, disdain and anger directed towards Mia (and Dinah, at times) for no apparent reason, when they seemed to have somewhat bonded previously?! She spent the majority of the episode sauntering around looking down on everyone, portraying a bitchy-tomboy type, deeming anything vaguely typically feminine or not hard-moody-’badass’ as beneath her. This is not #girlpower. Fuck off.
Then we have that clusterfuck of a scene at the exhibition 🙈🙈 where BS tries to tell Mia that she used to date her Dad, before quickly correcting herself to “some version of him, anyway”, as if they were one and the same 🙄 Laurel’s continual need to imply that she knows, or has history with our Oliver is infuriating as hell. E2 Oliver died on the Gambit in his early 20s. Even if he was similar in character to E1 Oliver up until then, that person bears no likeness to the man he became. Her past with her ‘Ollie’ is entirely irrelevant to the man that was Mia’s father, who she barely even got to know at all save for a couple of episodes in S8. And not only the implication that she knew him, but then to actually try to trash him as well, to his kid?! All to push her idea that all versions of people are the same (which was refuted when JJ doesn’t even turn out to be behind the Deathstroke mask anyhow)? NO! At least Dinah and Mia were cringing along with us 😂
It’s just astounding, the turnaround they’ve managed with Laurel/BS. They already did the unthinkable in S7 and got a lot of people from this side of the fandom to empathise and warm to her, without pissing off her existing fans. I really did grow to like her in S7 (check my reviews, I still can’t believe it 😂), she was snarky, but not bitchy, and showed some heart and vulnerability. So it’s mind-blowing how they took all that growth and just obliterated it this season, and then even more so in this episode where she is just plain nasty and unlikeable.
I do think, however, that giving BS and Mia a tempestuous relationship from the off was a good idea, cos let’s face it, you can tell there is no love lost between them. But they could have made them clash in a better way than BS just being an arsehole to Mia for most of the episode. My best guess is her anger comes from Mia coming out of Crisis with a life untouched by violence, whilst her earth was still lost? (Was it? I can’t actually remember if E2 came back.) She can’t complete her self-appointed mission on her own and knows she needs Mia’s help to do it?? I don’t know. She had a lot to say about JJ supposedly being a ‘homicidal manic’...pot, kettle much?! She also seemed to find the notion of Mia initially wanting to just appreciate the peaceful life she had been given and not becoming a vigilante reprehensible, but why? BS is the one that needs to atone for past sins. Mia does not.
Stray thoughts
That cliffhanger!!! WHO TOOK OUR WILLIAM?!?!?!
The music was...not good. Especially during the fight scenes. Arrow was always so on-point with its score. I don’t understand how this can be so bad?! I did like hearing Mia’s theme in there, though, that was a nice tie-in the old flash-forwards.
Who is this Kevin that cheated on William? He must be destroyed!😡
Some of that future make-up was really something 😬😬 2040 is all about the severe/dead and unblended looks, apparently. The fashion was fabulous though!
The dialogue in the action scenes was soooo hammy.
Who is the mysterious, villainous “she”???
“Frack you!” and “I’m not interested in joining your Canary club” YAASS MIA 😂
William and Mia’s “pet rock” talk was super cute 😍
Oliver’s statue!! 😭😭😭
Hopes for the future, if series gets picked up:
Increased focus on Mia/FTA. We have such a fresh, interesting, diverse cast, with intertwined back stories ready to go for this show here already, waiting to be used. USE THEM.
A deadly outbreak of avian flu 😂🙊
Failing said outbreak...keep the birds in the background or MAKE THEM LIKEABLE. This is a chance for a clean slate!
I wanna see Papa Dig so bad. David had said we’d get to see 2040 Dig in Arrow, but looks like that isn’t going to happen now, and I’d just love to see how he is. I can also imagine David being entirely done, and not wanting to be a part of this, however, but a cheeky little cameo would be amazing 😂
SmoaknHawke to RISE 🔥🔥🔥
As it stands, I’ll watch if it goes to series, but for how long remains in question. I just know I cannot get on board with the faux feminist “heart/vulnerability/girly is ‘weak’! Let’s be hard/edgy/angry badasses and fight men and show the world we’re strong pow pow pow” narrative that BS in particular, but also the general tone of the show overall, is trying to portray. I really think that if the show is picked up that they should look to see what is working and what is falling flat on its arse. It’s in dire need of more heart and fewer birds imo, but we can have both, if they’d just write them as better people.
Thank you to the beautiful gif-makers 😘 Any uncredited gifs are mine.
💗💗💗
#Arrow 8x09#Arrow#Arrow spoilers#Mia Smoak Queen#Green Arrow and the canaries#Arrow Season 8#beccie's brain
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Family Friend: A Duff McKagan Imagine
Anon requested: Could you please do a duff imagine?😍 where reader is family friends with axl but she's been secretly sneaking around with duff and she finds out she's pregnant to him!
"Axl stop being stupid and get in the picture!" Your mother said from behind the camera, Axl laughing as he ran back over to the group, throwing his arm around your shoulders. The two of you smiled as your mom continued taking pictures, the family barbeque still in full swing. "Kids, leave poor Jeffrey alone!" Your mother set the camera and the polaroids down as she walked over to the guitarist, shooing the kids away. He quietly thanked her before going back to the book he was reading.
When you turned around, looking for Axl, he wasn't behind you so you went to go over to the table. You screamed when hands wrapped around your waist before you were thrown over someone's shoulder. It instantly clicked in your mind who it was when you saw the long ginger hair, fear instantly flooding you as you got closer to the pool.
"Axl! Don't you dare throw me into that pool!" You shouted as you tried to get away, the only response you heard was laughter before you were tossed into the pool. When you surfaced, you saw Axl at the edge, trying to hold back his laughter. "You could at least help me out of the pool, you know," you said, holding out your hand.
He leaned over to grab it and you pulled him in with you, laughing as he fell in.
"Holy shit! Axl? Izzy?" The two boys quickly turned around, smiles appearing on their faces as soon as they saw you. You instantly ran over to the two, pulling them into a tight hug. "Wow, you've grown up so much," Izzy said as he wrapped an arm around you. "Last time I talked to your mom you were just starting college," Axl said as the little group hug broke up.
You chuckled as you grabbed your luggage, Izzy offering to take it from you. "Yeah, and last time I talked to her I told her I was dropping out because it was too much to handle." Axl laughed then put his arm around you, leading you out of the bus station.
"So, what have you two been up to? Out here in L.A all alone," you asked, bumping into Izzy. "Oh you know, getting all the girls and playing all the shows," Axl joked, making Izzy roll his eyes. "We actually started a band, well, a couple bands. The one we have now though, Guns N' Roses, is pretty solid. You're coming to the show tonight," Izzy said as he put your suitcases in the trunk, Axl opening the door for you.
The three of you continued to catch up as Axl drove back to their dumpy apartment.
Once you got there, a group of boys started yelling down the Axl and Izzy. "Fucking finally! Now can we go out and get something to eat?" The short blonde one shouted, the other two agreeing. "Give us a minute to get her stuff in the apartment then we can, jesus Steven you act like you never eat," Axl shouted back, Izzy and you laughing as you followed them up the stairs.
"Are you not going to introduce us to your friend?" The one with the dark hair asked, eyeing you up and down. "Everyone, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), those are the idiots," Izzy said as he stood next to you. "Fuck you Stradlin," the shortest one said, making his way over to you. "I'm Steven, it's super nice to meet you."
You smiled at him before the other two stood up from the couch. "I'm Duff." "I'm Slash, now how do you know them?" "Dude, we told you not to be creepy and ask personal questions." "I've known Axl since we were younger, family friends, and I've known Izzy since about middle school," you explained, Axl rolling his eyes as his friends started to pry.
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The more time you spent with the boys, the closer you all got. You and Steven became friends almost instantly, Slash slowly becoming attached as well. However, there was one in particular you were really drawn too. Duff. Maybe it was how attractive he was, or maybe it was the fact that he was the sweetest man alive, but there was something about him that you gravitated towards.
Over the couple of months you had been living with Axl, you and Duff started sneaking around. At first, it was just for fun. A quick fuck when both of you were horny and that was it, but then it started developing into something else. He started writing you cute little notes and hiding them in your room, whenever you guys went out he was super protective, and he was constantly finding ways to spend time with you.
At first, you thought he was just being friendly, trying to make you feel comfortable. It never popped into your head that he might actually like you back until he asked you on a date without the rest of the guys.
"Listen, I know we haven't known each other for that long, but there's just something about you. That sounds so cheesy, but it's true. You make me feel all weird and fuzzy inside and I kinda like it. I know you're really close with Axl and Izzy, we won't even have to tell them, but please give me a chance. Please let me show you that I can be a good boyfriend," your smile grew as Duff rambled on, looking extremely adorable as he did.
When he finally stopped talking, you walked over to his side of the booth and pulled him close, placing a soft kiss on his lips. "I'm gonna take that as a yes," he whispered, pulling you in for another kiss.
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You and Duff had been sneaking around for almost two years now, still terrified of telling Axl. The only other member in the band that had any idea of what was going on was Izzy, and that wasn't by choice. You finally got your own apartment and gave him a key, him walking in at one of the worst times possible. Of course, he swore to secrecy and has somehow kept it a secret ever since, which you were extremely grateful for.
However, lately, there was something wrong. You were constantly sick, always waking up and immediately running to the bathroom to throw up. Worry started to course through you, it getting worse when you realized your period was late.
"Are you alright babe? This has been going on for a while and I'm nervous," Duff said softly as he crouched down next to you. "I'll be okay," you mumbled, instantly needing to throw up again. Duff rubbed your back in comfort as he tried to calm you down, his worry growing as well. "Will you at least go to a doctor?" He asked, feeling a little better when you nodded.
After you went and did the standard check-up, you were sent over to a gynecologist. Duff sat confused as you slowly started to panic, a vague idea of why you were here in your head.
"Ms.(Y/L/N)," a nurse said, opening the door. Duff stood and followed you back, still worried about what was happening. Finally, they sat you in a room with an ultrasound monitor and the nurse said the doctor would be with you in a moment.
Duff held your hand as the two of you waited, softly rubbing his thumb across the back of it in an attempt to keep you calm. You jumped a little when the door opened, Duff chuckling as he let go of your hand to greet the doctor.
"Hi, so I'm sure you have a vague idea as to why you were sent over to me, correct?" The doctor asked as she started sat down and looked at the papers on the clipboard. You nodded as Duff still looked lost and confused. "I'm assuming he's the boyfriend," you nodded as Duff grabbed your hand again, still lost and confused.
"Well, Ms.(Y/L/N), congratulations. You're pregnant," the doctor said, a smile on her face. Tears welled up in your eyes as Duff gasped, instantly letting go you your hand. The impending fear of him getting mad washed over you as you slowly turned to look at him, instantly being stunned by the huge smile on his face. "Holy shit, I'm gonna be a dad," he whispered to himself before looking at you, getting up to pull you into a tight hug.
All your worries went away as soon as he wrapped his arms around you, telling you how excited he was. "Do you guys wanna see?" The doctor asked, Duff instantly saying yes as you chuckled.
Once you two were back in the car, Duff instantly pulled you into a long kiss. "I can't believe I'm gonna be a dad, this is fucking insane," Duff said as he looked at you. "I can't believe it either, but also at the same time, I can. We are pretty reckless," you laughed as Duff agreed, silence taking over the car.
Both of you knew the impending doom that was back home, Axl. "How are we?" "I don't know." "Should we?" "At some point, probably." "Is that some point today?" "No, let's just go home and celebrate." "With what? It's not like we can have celebratory sex," Duff said, starting up the car. You rolled your eyes and hit his arm, causing him to laugh.
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A week had gone by, you trying to avoid the band as best as possible so you didn't break down and tell one of them. Duff had struggled the entire time, his urge to wrap his arm around you when you were around almost winning every time.
As soon as practice was over, you went to jet out of the room but were stopped by a certain ginger you had been dreading to talk to. "Wanna explain why you've been avoiding me for the past fucking week?" He asked, his voice sharp and his tone sour.
You cringed as you tried to get around him, his arm stopping you from leaving. He sighed before looking at you with soft eyes, your will instantly breaking. "Wait here, I need to get the rest of the band," he starred at you in confusion as you walked out of the room, showing Steven the room he was in.
The last person you spotted was Duff, concern instantly taking him over as you walked up to him on the verge of crying. "What's wrong? Did someone hurt you? I swear if they did I'll kick the-" "Duff, we need to tell them everything." He instantly fell silent, nodding as he grabbed your hand.
"Hey, it'll be okay. No matter what happens we'll always have each other and that's all that matters. Now stop crying, you're too pretty to cry," Duff reassured you as he wiped away the tears streaming down your face.
The two of you walked down the hall together, dropping hands before Duff opened the door to the practice room. Your nerves picked up with you saw everyone sitting down, but Duff rubbed your back before lightly pushing you into the room.
"Why are you crying?" Steven asked, instantly picking up on your emotions. You and Duff walked to the middle of the room, the group getting more and more confused.
"Well, uh, I guess we should tell you this first. We're, uh, dating," you said, grabbing Duff's hand for support. Steven was the first to jump up, congratulating the two of you. "Took you long enough to tell us," Slash said, taking a swig from his drink. "You two aren't that good at hiding things, you know," he added as you watched Axl to see his reaction.
"What else? There's obviously something else you have to say," he said, his face still blank. "Duff, why don't you tell them," you said, already starting to get the nervous chills.
Duff stood in silence for a second before sighing and looking down at his shoes. "She's pregnant." "She's what?!" Axl shouted as he quickly stood up, causing you to jump. "Dude, calm down alright-" "Calm down Duff? How the fuck am I supposed to calm down? She's been out here for not even three fucking years and you already got her fucking pregnant?"
Duff pushed you behind him as he stood up to Axl, the band watching from the couch. "Why are you so pissed? It's not like you two were together or ever were at one point." "She's like my little sister you dipshit! How would you feel if I just fucked your little sister and got her pregnant?" "I'd learn to fucking accept it cause they'd be fucking happy," Duff shouted before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the room, anger coursing through his body.
"Baby, slow down please, I can't keep up," you said as he was basically running out of the studio. He came to a full stop, causing you to bump into him. He chuckled softly, instantly turning around to pull you into him. "He'll get over it, just don't stay mad at him," you mumbled into his chest, the man nodding even though you didn't see it.
"I won't, I'm just gonna step on his toes on stage and say it was an accident." When you laughed, any ounce of anger Duff had was gone and was replaced with love for you, the two of you going to the car to head to your apartment.
#admin m#duff mckagan#duff mckagan imagine#guns n roses#guns n roses imagine#axl rose#izzy stradlin#steven adler#slash#slash hudson#axl rose imagine#izzy stradlin imagine#steven adler imagine#slash imagine#80s rock#80s rock imagine#imagines
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