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a-square-minus-one · 3 years

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Honey 10

Thank you for those who have stuck to this progressing story. Here is the new chapter. You can find the whole story on AO3 and fanfic.

I killed him.

Raven wakes up long before the team realizes she has. She can’t even register the itchy hospital bed sheets on top of her; her limbs are glued to the cot. Her chest expands as she breathes but she’d struggle less breathing underwater.

Malchior was a disgusting being. Intent to create chaos wherever he went. His only goal was to wreak havoc because he could and because no one could stop him. His life’s work was figuring out ways he could outdo his last destructive feat. His eyes only twinkled when he was asserting his dominance over something.

And she had killed him.

Or at least, separated his consciousness from its physical manifestation.

Or can you even separate that?

She made his limbs stop working.

His mouth would no longer form incantations.

Where would his thoughts go?

Would he be able to sort them or even hear them?

Or were they just whispers on another plane of existence?

Nausea makes Raven sit abruptly, the IV tugging painfully in her arm. She feels more than tastes the vomit fly out of her mouth. Chunks of yellow bits propel out onto the floor next to her, right by Starfire’s purple boots. Starfire is quick to move Raven’s hair out of the way, despite the fact that doing so sinks her boots right into the undigested food. A few tears escape Raven’s eyes.

“Star…” she groans, making a feeble attempt to push Starfire out the way but the alien just shushes her and rubs her hand over Raven’s back. A green hand extends a plastic cup of water towards her.

“Small sips,” Gar reminds her. She takes the cup out of his hands and raises it to her lips. Raven stiffens when he moves closer, replacing Starfire’s hands with his own. She stares over the rim of the cup at his torso, feeling her eyebrows crinkling. He picks up the hair from her neck. She hears a snap and feels her hair moving left to right. Then he’s at a reasonable distance again. She places a hand on her warm, now bare, neck.

“You-” she clears her throat. “-you can tie a ponytail?”

“Can’t you?” Garfield asks, looking incredibly amused. She feels her face heat up as she places the water on the tray next to her and lays back on the cot. She looks to Star’s boots and then to her face.

“I’m so-”

“Shh I will be hearing none of that friend,” Starfire says, handing Raven a wipe. Raven wipes off one side of her lips. Her hand pauses when she gets to the other side.

“How many civilians?” Raven asks, her fingers trembling behind the tissue. Garfield immediately straightens out his relaxed shoulders. His jaw tightens. Starfire looks down to her feet. Raven turns to Cyborg.

“Two.”

Two fingers touch her lips as the contents of her stomach turn again. Her eyes well up as she swallows around the undigested food rising in her esophagus.

“Ages?” she asks in an almost imperceptible voice.

No one answers.

She clenches her fingers around the wipe and presses it to her forehead.

“Ages?” she pleads.

“54 and 65,” Cyborg says; his rage is like a hot iron in her side. Raven feels Starfire’s despair pelting her on the other side like an open waterfall. Garfield’s emotions are all sharp corners and metal bristles. She can’t even bear to approach the edges of it for fear that she’ll pop and everything will come pouring out of her. She sinks back into her cot trying to tighten her core under the pressure of all their emotions. She almost finds balance in the current until she senses something, like seaweed twisting on her toes when she’s swimming in the ocean.

“You’re not telling me something,” she says, eyeing Garfield who hasn’t looked her way since tying up her hair. She almost didn’t want to ask considering how tenuous her hold on herself is.

“There was a six year old boy,” Nightwing says, entering the room with arms crossed over his chest. He leans against the doorframe of the med bay. Raven lets out a long breath. She spends a lot of her life thinking about how she breathes. Breathing is the first step to meditation. Right now she wonders what it would be like to be trapped at the end of a long exhale.

“He-”

“Is in ICU,” Nightwing finishes. She brings knees to her chest and sinks her head into them, gripping the fitted sheet on the cot. Her throat is one fire.

“We have to visit the family,” she says, looking at her team members. Everyone pauses.

“We did,” Garfield says, scratching the back of his neck the way he does when he’s pensive or nervous. Raven squints her eyes. She lays her legs flat on the cot.

“I have to visit the families,” she says, shifting to get up. Garfield quickly puts his hands on her shins and she almost kicks him off in surprise.

“You can’t,” Garfield says.

“Why not?”

“The public doesn’t love us right now,” Nightwing says, moving from his position at the door.

Then she feels it, pressing against her. Fire, all around her, filling the gaps between her fingertips, licking up the back of her knees. She almost gasps at the intensity of it.

“You’re angry,” she says, quickly looking up at Nightwing. A few strands of her hair have escaped the ponytail Garfield made for her. Starfire steps forward.

“We all are,” she says. Raven doesn’t look her way, keeping her eyes locked on the immobile Nightwing. This is a different anger. Nightwing knows she knows; their bond hasn’t faded in the years since she went into his mind.

“Where’s Malchior, Raven? Nightwing asks, his index finger twitching against his bicep. The fire around her stops all together. Something cool, fragile, and thin settles over them like a layer of frost on water. Then Raven makes the mistake of looking down. A fireball hits her in the chest like a cannon, she tumbles backwards on the cot.

“Damnit Raven!” Nightwing says. She looks up at his face, now red underneath his mask.

“Yo dude, chill out. She just woke up,” Garfield says. Nightwing whips towards him, his index finger inches away from Garfield’s chest. Raven is ashamed that she feels immediate relief at Garfield’s expense.

“How about instead of worrying about Raven you explain to me where the hell all the animosity for me came from?” Nightwing says, leaning much too far into Garfield’s personal bubble. Garfield leans back and tilts his head.

“Dude, clearly that wasn’t me.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’re not you when you transform into other animals?” Nightwing poses this as a question but the fact that each word is coming out like hisses between his clenched teeth makes it seem like he has already decided his answer.

“You know this isn’t just one of my other animal forms and could you check your tone?” Garfield asks. Raven feels his irritation like pricks from a cactus. She wiggles her fingers.

“Everytime the Beast has been present, I have been targeted,” Nightwing’s tone is even when he says this but punctuated in a manner that suggests he has ruminated on this and has already come to his own conclusions. His words sound rehearsed.

“That’s just not true and either way I’ve shown you for years that I’ve been able to control my powers as much as everyone else on the team, if not better.”

“You weren’t able to two days ago.”

“We don’t fight magical dragons everyday,” Garfield bites out and Nightwing swivels towards Raven again.

“And apparently we never will again!” Spit flies out of Nightwing’s mouth as he leans over the end of Raven’s cot. She sits up straight even though Nightwing’s words land heavy like a punch to her stomach.

“Almost sounds like you’re going to miss him,” Raven hisses back. Nightwing’s face is so red that Raven is sure it will explode off of his body.

“How can you be so desensitized to the loss of a life?”

“Jesus Nightwing relax! It isn’t like she hunted this man down, which is more than I can say about you and Slade...every six months...like clockwork!”

“And yet he’s still alive.” The muscles on Nightwing’s neck are straining as he turns towards Garfield, bumping his chest a little. Any other man would have taken a step back and on any other occasion Garfield would too but right then, he doesn’t.

“Is that because you haven’t tried or because you’ve never gotten close enough,” Garfield says, jutting his own chest outwards so it bumps Nightwing’s.

“Much closer than you did when he turned Terra into stone.”

“Dude what in the actual fuck?” Garfield growls.

“That is quite enough!” Starfire yells, wedging herself between the pair. “You have both done the crossing of the line! Friend Raven is barely recovered!”

Neither man stands down, glaring at each other over Starfire’s shoulders. “Are you going to arrest me Richard?” Raven asks, chin tilted upwards. Nightwing turns away from Starfire and removes his hand from his utility belt.

“He will do no such thing-” Starfire starts.

“You’re not being fair,” he says. Raven tilts her chin higher and arches an eyebrow.

“If you are not going to arrest me then we have more important things to talk about right now than any morally ambiguous decisions I made that there is no way I can undo,” Raven mumbles. “Even if I really wanted to.”

Nightwing runs a hand through his hair then drops both of his hands on his hips. He’s looking her in the eyes. Anyone else wouldn’t be able to tell because of his mask but she knows he is. He’s trying to consolidate all his anger into a concentrated cube. She respects the effort. Garfield, who is hunched over like his spine is ready to break through the skin of his back, clearly does not.

“We have two of your brothers in custody. Lust and Gluttony. I will be handling interrogations. You can watch from another room. ”

Raven sucks in her bottom lip. She knows her brothers better than Nightwing but she’s on thin ice with him as is. She’d have to let him cool down a little before she can get anywhere near that room.

“If you’re going in alone, I need to heavily armor you.”

Nightwing shrugs stiffly. She nods.

Behind Nightwing, Garfield takes his exit; his anger is radiating off of him like an electric heater. Nightwing looks after him, his lips in a straight line but doesn’t try to stop him.

“How much of a dick was I?” Nightwing asks once Garfield has left the room.

“12/10 bro,” Cyborg says, rubbing his forehead. Nightwing cringes.

“I’m going to go talk to him,” Raven says, looking at Cyborg and then towards her IV. Cyborg looks hesitant at first but eventually sighs and does as he’s told.

...........................................................................

“This is very carnivalesque.” Raven says as she sits next to Garfield on the roof. Garfield raises an eyebrow at her “Usually you’re the one who comes to see me on the roof.”

“What?” Garfield asks.

“Nothing,” Raven says, looking down at her feet. She’s not as good as he is at this.

“You should be in the med bay for observations.”

“With all the healing it would be very hard to kill me,” she says. She feels a few fat drops of rain smack her cheek but Garfield doesn’t flinch so she stays put. Raven looks up at the thick clouds moving in the sky.

“Do you think you’ll die like the rest of us?” Garfield asks. Random. Raven hums. “I mean your father...sorry I know it’s a touchy subject-”

“No, go ahead,” Raven says, keeping her eyes on the sky. A warmth spreads in her chest like when she drinks hot tea. It’s been nice for her to see how delicate Garfield is with her boundaries in the last couple of years.

“Trigon is immortal. Does that make you immortal too?” he asks.

“I really hope not,” Raven mumbles immediately. “I’m not a god.”

Her mind immediately goes to Malchior’s lifeless body beneath her.

“Don’t lose any sleep over him,” Garfield says. Raven hums again. “Malchior. That’s who you’re thinking about, right?”

Raven looks away from the sky. Garfield’s lashes are dark and long. He’s green almost everywhere but around his pupils there is a rim of orange that she’s always been fascinated by.

“I took his life away,” she says, curling up her bare toes. “I-I’m afraid…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Garfield interrupts softly. She feels the warmths curl through her insides again. She has to break eye contact.

“I don’t know if I made the right choice. It kind of feels...heavy? If that makes sense.”

“It makes sense.”

It grows quiet again.

“Nightwing was more angry at me than he was at you,” she says. Silence.

A few drops of water land on her thighs. She’s getting a little cold now. She had only come out in the oversized t-shirt she was wearing in the med bay. She thinks it’s Cyborg’s. It fits her like a dress.

“I think he might be right.”

Raven looks up at him, ready to protest. The protests die on her lips when she makes eye contact.

“I keep banking on the fact that I can control the Beast but it kind of sucks. He’s pulling at me all the time.”

“He doesn’t like Nightwing?”

“...He doesn’t like Nightwing’s power over me. Doesn’t like that he’s the one who calls the shots. Which is the complete opposite of me. Usually Nightwing and Cyborg are the ones measuring their dicks to see who gets to be boss.”

Raven snorts.

“Would it be so bad to let him out every once and a while? What else could he want?” Raven asks. Garfield presses his lips together. And his silence stretches like cheese. Just when she thinks it's about the tear, it stretches some more. For much longer than it should. She can’t pinpoint exactly what changes but she is suddenly hyper aware of how long she’s been looking into his eyes. She isn’t about to let on that she noticed the shift though because that would mean that it actually happened.

But maybe she should move?

Or look down?

Why isn’t he saying anything?

Did he lean forward?

Breathe Raven.

She inhales sharply.

There is a flash of lighting in her peripheral vision.

He doesn’t break eye contact.

“Can I see the scar The Beast left?” he finally whispers, keeping eye contact. Oh, that’s what he was thinking about.

She can’t think straight. What did I think he was thinking about? She pulls up her shirt without a second thought, looking down with him...

Then screams internally when she remembers she isn’t wearing any pants.

She freezes. Thunder rumbles.

He doesn’t say anything. She wonders if she’d hear him anyway over the long ‘AGHH!’ reverberating in her head.

She looks up at him; he hasn’t said anything about her lack of pants. Instead he’s staring intently at her side, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip wedged between his teeth.

Breathe. The team has changed in front of each other before. No big deal.

She wishes she can get a clear read on his emotions but she can barely get a hold on hers.

Then he reaches out his fingertips and slowly runs over the ridges of the three bumpy stripes on her side.

This time she actually shrieks out loud, dropping her shirt immediately. A few rocks on the shore explode into a million little fragments. He pulls his hands away like he just accidentally touched a stove.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry! Jesus, I don’t know why I did that,” he squeals immediately, running a hand through his hair roughly.

Aghhhhhh

“No! It’s... um...fine.Your fingers were just cold.”

The skin around her scars is burning.

Aghhhh .

He shuts his eyes so tightly that she can see little wrinkles at the edges of them. It looks like he wants to turn into a mosquito and fly away. She stays quiet. He places a hand over his eyes.

“Listen...I...I’m sorry about that. The touching,” his voice squeaks. He clears his throat. “But also giving you the scar in the first place.”

He reluctantly moves his hands away and looks at her again.

“I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt Nightwing. I don’t want to ever hurt you,” Garfield says, his skin changing from brown to green as his blush fades.

Agggghhhhh.

She hums.

Not the right response.

He sucks his lips into his mouth, face getting incredibly brown just as it was resuming its original shade.

“I-” he starts.

She looks at him.

He looks at her.

He flies away.

#bbrae

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bubbly-bungee-may · 4 years

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ZoNa Valentine’s Week: Day 4 Why I Ship ZoNa: Part 1

So because i’ve never explained why I ship ZoNa, I’ve decided to use this Valentine’s Week as an excuse to make 3 separate posts on why I ship them.

They will be long posts because I am relying on the gifs I made of the anime rather than the manga (even though the manga may be more accurate, but I just started reading the manga so give me some time lol)

OKAY LET’S START.....

So just as a preface: First and foremost these two have known each other the longest. I’m not saying that in order to be a couple you need to know someone for a long time, but in ZoNa’s case I feel like it’s an important part of their relationship.

They started out as friends then shit went down in Arlong Park (namely where Nami plays the villain for a hot second and that shakes Zoro up cause he had trusted her) but then everything was settled and they went back to being friends.

I feel like that incident was necessary not only for the plot, but for Zoro and Nami’s relationship to develop. After everything, they now have full trust in the other and their relationship was able to evolve.

This all leads me to my first reason as to why I ship ZoNa:

1. They are friends FIRST

Yes, I ship them as a couple, but I believe that all successful relationships begin as friends (that’s just my own personal belief). A foundation built on friendship and mutual understanding and trust is what I believe allows this ship to sail.

And despite the fact that everyone thinks Nami and Zoro are only capable of fighting and butting heads, they are actually very good friends who are capable of holding normal conversations.

Exhibit A (Ep.54) : Nami took notice of how Zoro was acting strange and commented on it. She’s aware of his presence and isn’t just writing him off. And this also shows that she cares about him.

Exhibit B (Ep. 62) : Zoro wanted Nami’s opinion on what the strange sound he heard was. Also Nami is taking the time to answer him; she could’ve just ignored him completely but she decided to pay him attention.

Exhibit C (Ep. 154): This is a very brief moment, but Zoro and Nami have a conversation about dropping anchor and the layout of the island. And they are both on the ship alone and idk I like to think that Zoro was waiting for Nami to be done changing so that they could go on the island together.

Exhibit D (Ep. 161): Nami wanting Zoro’s opinion as to if he saw anything. Just shows that she trusts his judgment and how she can rely on him.

Exhibit E (Ep. 161): Short conversation, but still important. Zoro is showing concern and care for Nami by telling her to be more careful. And Nami is replying sincerely.

Exhibit F (Ep. 217): Zoro notices Nami is mad without even looking at her. If that doesn’t tell you how well he knows her by now, then idk what does. But it’s also important that Zoro is listening to her concerns and commenting on them.

So YES, they can hold normal conversations, here is the proof! And having known each other the longest, they also know the other well.

Zoro can spot Nami’s money obsession anytime, anywhere. (Ep.105)

And Nami knows how much Zoro loves sake, so she went out of her way to get it for him. (look at how happy he is hehe) (Ep. 255)

And this ⤵ gif (Ep. 159) is one of my newfound favorite moments and leads us into the next reason. It’s not in the manga, but maybe the animators are also ZoNa fans....??

2. They are comfortable around eachother.

Okay, but doesn’t it seem like Zoro is teasing Nami?!?! She almost ran into a tree and then Zoro is like “oooo a perfect opportunity to tease her”. Idk I just found this part super cute. Like Zoro isn’t usually one to be playful like this, but he is with Nami and ughhh it’s so cute!

And then the multiple times that Zoro is seen sitting/sleeping next to/near Nami. It just shows that they don’t mind each other’s company and honestly (intentional or not) I think they gravitate towards each other because of how comfortable they are with each other.

Exhibit A (46): He came to sit next to her during breakfast when he could’ve sat down next to his captain. Like is this his seat? Has he claimed the spot next to Nami as his own? ..... I like to think so.

Exhibit B (48): The start of Zoro’s debt. I just love how Nami leans in and he doesn’t seem to mind it hehe.

Exhibit C (Episode of Alabasta): The circumstance here was a bit different, but I like to think that she just wanted to be close to Zoro. And idc who tf you are, but if you were in Zoro’s position you can’t just not think about or be conscious about the woman on you. Like yeah you can call yourself friends, but you gotta be at least a bit conscious of where you’re touching and what’s touching you.

Exhibit D (Ep.149) : The start of the famed drinking buddies act. Nami moved here after pouring Robin a drink so I like to think that she felt comfortable and decided to settle down next to him. So i’m guessing Zoro’s seat is next to Nami during breakfast, and Nami’s seat is next to Zoro when they’re drinking?!

Exhibit E (Ep. 193): Psssst Zoro, just scoot your hand over a smidgen

Exhibit F (Ep. 225) : Before one of my favorite parts in the Foxy Arc (that will be shown in another part hehe).

Exhibit G (Ep 228): The two of them were up here alone before Sanji came. I like to think that Nami was relaxing and then Zoro came up wordlessly and just plopped down and fell asleep (before Sanji interrupted)

Exhibit H ( Ep 554): Honestly, Zoro is used to it at this point. And this just proves that Nami believes in his strength and believes that he will protect her no matter what.

Exhibit I (569): Ah yes the drinking buddies, an upgrade from Sky Island.

Exhibit J (569): Ah yes the sobering-up buddies. I made another post (here) on this, but I like to think Zoro likes being near her so he can protect her.

Now, I’d also like to make the argument that them butting heads is actually proof of how close they are.

Nami isn’t afraid of getting close to him and giving him a piece of her mind. Remember in my previous post when Zoro does this with Nami (who is Sanji in Nami’s body). Yeah, they def don’t mind being close to each other even when it comes to arguing.

(Ep 93)

You’d think Zoro would learn that he can rarely win an argument with Nami, but nah, that ain’t Zoro. Personally, I think Zoro low key likes arguing with her. Aside from Nami the only one he really argues with is Sanji (but even then what they argue about is usually something petty). (Ep 147)

I really like this gif because it shows that Zoro is trying to explain to Nami why they did what they did. She thinks they were “beaten”, but that isn’t necessarily correct, so he was trying to get her to see the real picture.... which she didn’t. lol (Ep 151)

But if there’s one thing I noticed about Zoro and Nami’s relationship when it comes to arguing, it’s that the other party is trying to get the other one to see from their point of view; they don’t argue just to argue.

Putting aside the fact that they were arguing about marriage (although if they ever did get married I’d think Nami would want something extravagant while Zoro would just be like “whatever just wake me up when I have to go in” ah okay my imagination is running wild.. stop stop)

Anyway, this part is important because this time it’s Nami who is trying to get Zoro to see from her point of view. Of course, she can’t do so without yelling and gnashing teeth, but the sentiment is the same-she wants Zoro to understand where she’s coming from. (Ep 764)

I mean look, friends have differing viewpoints and thoughts. Yes, they may disagree, but in the end it doesn’t really matter because people can still think differently but be close. Ever heard the saying “opposites attract��? yeah, that’s basically ZoNa in a nutshell. They may argue and disagree, but I think that brings them even closer.

And Zoro is usually referred to as the “calm and cool” guy, but the fact that he easily loses his “cool” over something slight that Nami says, idk I just find that cute that she’s able to get under his skin like that.

I love the dynamic between the two. They’re opposites who like to fight, but always have each other’s backs and couldn’t stand to see the other hurt.

#zona #zonami #zonalove #zonaforever #one piece #nami one piece #zoro one piece #nami #zoro #only otp #one piece otp

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zerogate · 3 years

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Still living with his grandparents in Washington, DC, Owsley spent the summer when he was nineteen years old working as a lifeguard at a pool in Bethesda, Maryland. While doing a “clown dive” that some Hawaiian guys in the military were trying to teach him, Owsley hit the water so hard that he suffered a middle-ear hemorrhage, which then became infected. “It was my right ear and it did something to my hearing. Both ears have an entirely different character. All the highs would come in through my left ear, which is connected to the right brain, where most art and creativity come from so I’ve been developing my right brain since I was nineteen.”

[...]

The way Owsley’s hearing was affected eventually shaped the way in which he would record bands as they performed onstage. “When I got into sound and began taking acid, I developed a remarkable facility insofar as my hearing was concerned that intensified my art. I do hear in stereo, and I absolutely hear the separation, but pan pots do not move the sound for me. A stereo record done with pan pots sounds to me like a mono record. I have to put on headphones to make any difference at all, and then it’s still blurry, so I don’t ever put a single source into both channels. There’s always a second microphone, and if I want a single source in both channels, I use two because I’m only interested in differences and my ears do know that.”

[...]

What came to be known as the Wall of Sound made its debut at the Cow Palace in San Francisco on March 23, 1974. Standing forty feet high and seventy feet wide, the system consisted of 88 fifteen-inch JBL speakers, 174 twelve-inch JBL speakers, 288 five-inch JBL speakers, and 54 Electro-Voice tweeters.

In Dennis McNally’s words, the array was “not merely a sound system, it was an electronic sculpture.” Encased in a huge framework of metal scaffolding, it also closely resembled something that had only ever before been seen in a science fiction movie. Driven by more than twenty-six thousand watts of power generated by fifty-five McIntosh MC-2300 amplifiers, the music that the Dead were making came through nine different channels as well as a four-way crossover network before being fed through the amplifiers and speakers into the house.

In Phil Lesh’s words, playing through the Wall of Sound was like “piloting a flying saucer. Or riding your own soundwave.” Financed by the Dead, the Wall of Sound had cost $350,000 to develop, the equivalent of nearly $1.8 million today. At a time when the band was trying to keep the cost of tickets low, the system required a crew of sixteen to transport and maintain. The Wall of Sound took so much time to set up that two different stages had to be purchased at an additional cost of $200,000. Four trucks were then needed to haul seventy-five tons of equipment from one gig to the next.

[...]

Aptly, Kreutzmann described the Wall of Sound as “Owsley’s brain, in material form. It was his dream, but it spawned a monster that rose from the dark lagoon of his unconscious mind.” In ways that Bear himself had never anticipated, the Wall of Sound was, in Kreutzmann’s words, “impossible to tame.”

Despite all the problems, he had achieved precisely what the Dead had asked him to do. “The Wall of Sound was a system which gave every iota of control to the musicians onstage. With a central cluster and all the monitors pulled back so everything was coming from one spot, the sound turned into something that no one had ever heard before. It was loud without being too loud. It was articulate. Every single note had a space around it. Once the system was set, I could walk away from the board because it all came from the musicians, which had been my goal right from the beginning.

-- Robert Greenfield, Bear: The Life and Times of Augustus Owsley Stanley III

#quotes #grateful dead #owsley

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chickensarentcheap · 3 years

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Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 54

Title: Unexpected

Warnings: profanity

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @miss-smutty, @tragiclyhip, @ocfairygodmother, @ocappreciation

Link on Ao3

: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28860450/chapters/80096629

He hears her as she comes in; the soft click of the front door opening, the tap of her heels against the hardwood floor, the jingle of the dogs’ tags as they hurry to greet her. That almost childlike voice speaking in a hushed whisper; praising them for being ‘good boys’ and for not barking and ‘waking the demons up’. The soft rustle as she slips out of her jacket, followed by a yawn and the shuffling of tiny feet approaching him.

Before he has the chance to turn away from the dishwasher and greet her, she’s wrapping her arms around him from behind; briefly squeezing him before her palms settle on his stomach and her forehead rests against his back. For several minutes neither of them speak; her eyes closed as his calloused fingertips repeatedly drift along her forearms and over the tops of her hands. Enjoying the simplicity of the moment; a quiet and innocent display of intimacy in the security of their still and silent home. She relaxes in the warmth that radiates from his body and the smell that clings to both clothes and skin; fresh and crisp and so utterly masculine. For years she’s enjoyed that scent; reminding her of the comforts of home and the beautiful things that exist in their lives and within their relationship. Using it as a comfort whenever they’re separated; sleeping with his pillow, wearing his tees or his dress shirts, wrapping her body up in one of his hoodies. It keeps him close when he’s so far away; easily managing to chase away even the worst of the loneliness, calm her when her patience has been tested, and bring her back from the edge when feels herself slipping into the dark, hopeless place.

His fingers push through hers; lightly squeezing her hands before raising one to his lips and pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “What’s this all about? This kind of greeting?”

“What? I’m not allowed to hug my husband? Maybe I’m happy to see you. Maybe I appreciate you; taking care of the house, watching the hooligans, letting my sister borrow me for a night. And maybe...just maybe…” she playfully pinches his stomach. “...I find it sexy when you’re doing domestic shit.”

“You do, do ya?” He grins. “Just HOW sexy do you find it?”

“Incredibly sexy. Coming home to a spotless kitchen and all the kids fast asleep and every stitch of laundry folded AND packed? That makes me so hot for you.”

“Maybe that was my plan.” Placing a kiss on the top of her hand, he releases his hold and returns to putting the last of the clean dishes away. “Get all this shit done, make you all hot and bothered, have you at the point you can’t say no.”

“Like I would say no. I seem to be incapable of using that word when it comes to you for some reason. It’s why I’m in the predicament I am now; married to this insanely hot, muscly, tattooed Aussie who I let impregnate me with SEVEN spawn.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Definitely NOT a bad thing. A few more than I ever expected to have, but…” her hands glide along across his stomach and onto his sides. Running up and down his ribs before settling on his hips; playfully pinching the miniscule amount of fat that resides there. “...we do good work.”

“We do,” he agrees, and turns to face her; leaning back against the bottom cupboards with his palms flat against the countertop. “We do fucking amazing work, actually.”

Her hands slide to the small of his back and she leans her body against his; the bottom of her chin against his chest as she peers up at him. Cheeks slightly flushed; the lingering remnants of the powerful drink she’d finished just mere minutes before jumping in a cab and heading for home. “How did things go?”

“I was just going to ask you the same thing. You didn’t stick around long; after you called me.”

“I just wasn’t feeling it. That kind of place. Not really my scene anymore. Maybe when I was in my early twenties and looking for an easy pick up; a bar where the guys are so needy it’s like shooting fish in a barrel. It was like I was in this whole new, strange world that I didn’t even understand. Am I really getting that old?”

“You’re not getting old. You just make better choices now. You’re just wise. More mature.”

She groans.

“What?” he chuckles, and gently combs a hand through her hair; fingertips moving wayward strands from the side of her face and looping them behind her ear. “What did I say?”

“You said mature. Which is just a polite way of calling me old.”

“That is definitely NOT why I called you mature. You are NOT old. Far from it.”

“You’re saying that out loud, but inwardly you’re counting my gray hairs, aren’t you.”

“Maybe…”

Frowning, she slaps both palms against his ass and then pinches aggressively. “Jerk!”

“You really want to know what I was thinking?”

“I don’t know, do I? Are you actually brave enough to admit it? You may be Mister Big, Bad Mercenary, but you can’t deny you’re scared of little old me.”

“That’s because you hold all the power. Other people? They can’t hurt me the way you can.”

“I guess in your eyes, this is nothing scarier than the reality of sleeping on the couch for the rest of your naturally born life,” she chides, as her hands slip under his t-shirt. Her palms repeatedly skimming over his bare back; fingers able to find the smattering of scars by sheer memory. “Tell me,” she encourages. “What WERE you thinking?”

“You sure you can handle it?”

“I’m a big girl; I can take it.”

“Of there’s no doubt about that. And you take it very well.”

She gives a dramatic roll of her eyes, then lightly scraps her fingernails along his skin. “Considering what I’ve gone through in the past twelve and a half years, I think it’s safe to say that I can pretty much handle anything you throw at me.”

“I dunno…”

“Tyler, my husband is a mercenary. I have four sons. I have seen and heard it all. Nothing shocks me anymore.”

“All I was thinking was how you looked really beautiful tonight. I mean, you’re beautiful ALL the time, but tonight? Extra beautiful.”

A slow smile creeps across her face; dark eyes sparkling up at him in a mix of content and slight embarrassment. Still not entirely comfortable with compliments and praise; her childhood and eventual first marriage spent being constantly torn down and degraded. “That was an extremely good save.”

A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Wasn’t bad, huh? You impressed by me?”

“Very. That was extremely quick thinking on your part. You may have just saved yourself a very long time of camping out in the living room.”

“Well, I actually would just go and stay in the pool house. Try not to cross your path until you’ve calmed down a bit. And honestly…” Both hands push through her hair now; fingers slowly combing through the loosening curls. “...it’s the truth. It WAS what I was thinking.”

“Husband, I don’t care what you say, you’re a big softie.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, fingertips grazing over the smooth lines of her jaw; thumbs repeatedly brushing across the tops of her cheeks before leaning down to kiss her.

Long and soft and sweet; the slow and familiar movements of closed mouth upon closed mouth. A sigh escaping as she climbs onto the top of his feet; standing on the tips of her toes as she curls her arms around his neck. It’s a simple and innocent form of intimacy. Nothing hurried or rushed; bodies not driven by profound want and need. Just a gentle and languid mix of mouths and the tips of tongues. Calloused palms tenderly cradling her face

He gathers her in his embrace when the moment finally ends. Tucking her tightly into his chest. An arm wrapped securely around her waist and hand resting against the back of her head; fingers pushing through her hair and then gently kneading her scalp. She relishes in that physical connection; eyes closed and her arms wrapped around his torso. Enjoying the press of his cotton t-shirt against her cheek and the hard wall of muscle that lays behind it, the familiar scent that clings to skin and clothes, the warmth that radiates from his body, the sound of his heart beating deep within his chest.

The latter plays on her emotions; the realization of how close she’d come to never hearing that sound again. Remembering those first nights in Dhaka; when sleep managed to find him and she’d laid against the strong, beautiful body with her head on his chest or pressed against his back. This big, seemingly fearless man that was haunted by so many ghosts and plagued by so many demons; a troubled mind and a weary body somehow finding reprieve and comfort in HER presence. All the things he’d confessed to her; his guilt and his shame and his regret and how he’d been harbouring a death wish for years. She had lay there in that dirty hotel room marvelling at him; having gone through so much yet somehow managing to keep putting one foot in front of the other. The sound of his heart was the sound of potential and promise; he hadn’t given up and he’d admitted to finally finding something -someone- that could perhaps make him happy again and give him a sense of purpose.

It had come so close to being snatched away; both on the Sultana Kamal Bridge and during his return to Dhaka.

She tightly squeezes her eyes in an attempt to hold back a flood of tears; hands increasing their grip on the back of his shirt. He doesn’t question it; the trembling of her body or the hitch in her breathing or the desperate way in which she clings to him. Instead he drops a kiss on the top of her head and his palm slides to the middle of her back; rubbing in smooth, comforting circles.

It’s several minutes before he speaks. Both hands briefly settling on her shoulders, gently pushing her away before one hand rests on her hip and the knuckles of the other graze along her jaw. “You alright? You good?”

Nodding, she opens her eyes and looks up at him, managing a reassuring smile and a small nod.

“You sure? ‘Cause you don’t look alright. You want to tell me what’s going on? What’s got you looking like the waterworks are going to start any second?”

“It’s just been a hell of a couple weeks. And finding out about Mark and realizing that was actually him that got that close to me? It’s just unsettled me a bit. That’s all.”

“I am sorry that I kept it from you. If I’d had any other choice…”

Her hands slide down his back and onto his ribs. “You didn’t though. You did the right thing. You don’t need to be sorry. I don’t WANT you to be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. You made the right decision.”

He nods slowly as he considers her words. “Did you at least try and have a good time tonight? Was any of it decent at least?”

“Dinner was great. Conversation was awesome. I could have done without going to a bar mainly inhabited by frat boys whose balls haven’t probably even dropped yet. Do you want to know how many times I was propositioned tonight? How many times my ass was grabbed?”

“Not really, no.”

“A lot. A staggering amount, actually. Probably more times than you've grabbed my ass in the entire twelve years I’ve been married to you. But I enjoy when YOU grab it. Them? I feel like I need to bathe in a tub full of bleach.”

“You know, you could have called me. I would have come down there to bust some heads.”

“Which is exactly WHY I didn’t call you. Because you’re much more useful to me and the children than you are in jail. Let’s NOT catch any assault charges, okay?”

“I don’t know,” he chides. “Guys start sexually harassing my wife…”

“I handled them. Nothing good old fashioned public humiliation to set them straight. What about your night? Did it go okay? Have YOU been okay?”

“I’ve been good. Just been keeping to myself. Hung out with Desi and Shaena, kept the kids fed and entertained. No one broke any bones or blackened any eyes or shed any blood. That’s considered a successful night in our house.”

“That's considered a miracle,” she laughs. “You know, considering your children are feral and all.”

“You’re going to blame that on me, aren’t you?”

“Honey, you once lived in a shack in the outback with a chicken as a roommate. That’s pretty feral.”

“You fell in love with me. While I was living in that shack with that chicken. Knowing I was feral. What does that say about you?”

“It says that I have exceptional taste. That despite being feral, I thought you were insanely sexy. I saw that sparkle of a diamond under the rough. Didn’t take much for me to bring it right out in the open.”

“Comparing me to a diamond? I don’t know whether to be offended or flattered.”

“It’s a compliment, you jackass.”

“You have this uncanny ability of loving me up one second and shit talking me the next.”

“You act like that’s something new. I’ve only been like this for more than a decade. I notice you stick around. Put up with it. You haven’t told me to fuck off or packed your bags and hauled ass.”

“Well despite your downfalls, you have way more good qualities going for you.”

“Yeah? And what good qualities are those?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I mean, you can’t reach things on the high shelves, you can’t get clothes out of the bottom of the washing machine, you can’t cook for shit.”

“Go on,” she encourages, and pinches the sensitive areas below his ribs. “Get it all off your chest. I promise I won’t kill you in your sleep.”

“But, in spite of all of your many faults, I love you. And I can’t live without you.”

Smiling, she stands on her tip toes and presses a kiss to the underside of his chin. “We are so codependent.”

“A little. But I think it’s kinda of understandable, don’t you? I mean, both of us spent a lot of years not having anyone. Always had to fend for ourselves, didn’t trust anyone, didn’t let anyone in ‘cause we didn’t want to get hurt. And then we met and that all changed. I think it’s easy to see why we are the way we are; we’ve been through a lot of shit together. A lot of horrible, horrible shit.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, then squeezes his sides and smiles up at him. “But we’ve also been through a lot of really good times too.”

“We have,” he agrees. “Even in the midst of some of the really shitty stuff.”

“And we always get through things. No matter how bad they are. How many couples can say that? How many would just break and fold and not even fight for things? Probably a lot. I like to think we’re a different breed. That what we have is totally different from what they have.”

“I think it is. I mean, let’s face it; we’re both phenomenally resilient. And horrifyingly stubborn. I think you’re even worse than I am.”

“Please,” she laughs. “You are the king of stubborn people. No one comes close to you.”

“I don’t know, Me. Some of the things I’ve seen you do when you shouldn’t…”

“Tyler, you are way more stubborn than I am. Admit it.”

“You’re arguing like a stubborn person would,” he teases, and then laughs when she lands a playful, light punch to his stomach and tries to back away; a palm on the small of her back holding her in place. “How about we just call it a tie?”

“How about we say you have fifteen percent more stubbornness than I do?”

“Fifteen? I’ll go as high as five.”

“Five?” she scoffs. “You have to be shitting me. It is way more than five.”

“Seven?”

She stares pointedly up at him.

“Ten?”

“I’ll settle for ten. Even though it’s more like twelve, thirteen, but…” she squeals when he brings the palms of hands down on her ass in a ringing slap; fingers digging through the fabric of her dress and into the soft flesh. “...I’ll give it to you.”

“Good girl.”

“Where’s the littles? I expected to find you fast asleep with a couple of them on you.”

“Put them to bed.”

“You got all three of them upstairs? A couple trips?”

“I’m no two trip bitch, Esme. I got it done in one shot. Boom.” He flexes his right bicep. “Guns of fucking steel, baby.”

“So sexy,” she praises, and then tilts her face up towards him for another kiss. “I am going to and get out of this dress and take a shower. Want to come with?”

“I do, actually. You go do your thing and I’ll finish things down here and lock everything up.”

“Sounds good,” she chirps, and he presses a chaste peck to her lips. “Don’t be forever okay? I’ve kind of missed you. Even in the carnal way.”

“Isn’t that the best way?”

“Sometimes. The most fun way, that’s for sure.”

“Best way to spend any night of the week if you ask me.” His palm slides down her spine as she steps away; briefly lingering at the small of her back and then passing over her over ass.

“Don’t take too long,” she says, and reaches for his hand as she turns on her heel ; fingertips sliding over long, calloused digits and across the rough, work weary palm. And she shoots him a smile over her shoulder as she heads from the room; those big, dark eyes betraying the sadness, fear and confusion that plague her.

****

“You know what I want to do when we get home?” she asks, as he massages shampoo into her short, dark locks. “One of the first things I want?”

“Other than watching the sunset? And a long sleep in our bed?”

“I want a pink lemonade cupcake from Bitten. And maybe a key lime one too. I miss their cupcakes. If there’s anything in this world that even comes close to being better than sex, it’s their cupcakes.”

“Comes close to being better than sex? Excuse me?”

“Well maybe not sex with YOU. But sex with average lovers. Or just above average. You’re off the chart. In fact you’re so far off the chart, you’ve made an entire chart all of your own. Nothing comes even remotely close to your chart.”

“How many average or above average lovers have you had?”

“We have talked about this...many times...in the past twelve and a bit years. You’re only the fourth guy I’ve ever been with. Actually, you could be considered only the third because number two came before he got inside of me and then cried about it and instead of getting off, I had to console him and his fragile masculinity.”

“Jesus Christ,” he chuckles. “What kind of guys were you used to?”

“Mediocre ones. At best. And then you came along and I totally stepped up my game.”

“I don’t know, Me. I’m not exactly the best catch. I’m kinda...messy.”

“I will not tolerate any of this nonsense. You shit talking yourself. So you’ve got some issues…

“Some?”

“A few. But you’re not messy. Okay, maybe you were a TAD messy when we FIRST met, but you got your shit together quick. Cleaned yourself up.”

“Almost dying and being in a coma for a week and the hospital for three months will do that to you. Wean you off your vices.”

She tilts her head back and frowns up at him. “Here I was thinking you were going to say ‘it’s because I finally had a reason to clean myself up. Someone to get my shit together for.”

“I didn’t think that needed to be said. Isn’t that obvious?”

“Maybe I just like to hear it.”

“Baby…” He leans down and presses a kiss to the tip of her nose. “...you were the only reason I was even alive. Of course I got my shit together for you. I wouldn’t have; had you not been around.”

A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “You know, you always come up with the most immaculate of saves at the most perfect time.”

“Only took me twelve and a half years. I guess I’m a slow learner, huh?”

“I don’t know. You seem to be pretty quick at learning all the right things. And by right things I mean all the sexiest ones.”

“If there’s one thing I DO excel at…”

“Despite what you think of yourself, you excel at MANY things. But you just happen to be a God at things that involve being naked.”

“Well technically, we’re not always COMPLETELY naked. When I get my best ideas.”

“Without pants,” she clarifies. “I mean, they have to come off no matter what.”

“How about we not talk about being without pants?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, husband, we’re not wearing any pants right now.”

“Oh I’ve noticed. I’m just trying not to think of the naughty things that can happen when we’re naked from the waist down. Because this shower…?”

“Not exactly the easiest place to have fun in,” she finishes. “Last time you almost dropped me.”

“In my defence, I slipped. The tiles were slippery. You used too much of that gel shit. The one that smells like watermelon.”

“It’s cucumber and cantaloupe, thank you very much.”

“Whatever it is, you’re not supposed to use the whole bottle at once. Now…” he pecks her lips. “...rinse.”

His hands move through her hair when she bows her head under the full stream of the shower; gently scrubbing at her scalp before his fingers slip through the wet, soapy tresses. Clearing them of any and all evidence of shampoo; enjoying that familiar honey and coconut scent that he first encountered and fallen in love with many years before.

“You know…” she says, as he reaches for the matching conditioner and squeezes some into his palm. “...we didn’t think the whole shower thing through. When we did the renos on this place.”

“I asked you if you wanted me to blow out that one wall. Totally get rid of the sewing room and make the bathroom bigger. Why the hell do we even need a sewing room anyway? I have never...EVER...seen you sew a single damn thing in twelve in a half years.”

“I sewed your arm back up,” she reminds him. “In Dhaka.”

“Honey, I’m not talking about doing patchwork on a human with a needle and dental floss. Have you ever fixed a hole in a pair of jeans? Hemmed a pair of pants? Put a button back on?”

“No,” she admits. “But it doesn’t mean I never will. I could pick up the hobby. And be very good at it.”

“Me, I love you, but you’re not THAT kind of wife. The whole making Halloween costumes and kids clothes? That’s not your thing.”

“I don’t cook well, I can’t reach things on the top shelves or the bottom of the washer, I don’t sew. Just what DO I bring to this whole gig as a wife?”

“Your body has carried SEVEN of my kids. You grew them and you brought them into this world safe and sound. You raise them. Keep them alive. Nurture them.”

“WE do those things. As a team. I’m not a single parent.”

“You’re an amazing mum. You have been right from the beginning. And you’re an awesome wife. You put up with my shit; the job, all my mental crap, my shitty past. I mean, you married a mercenary. A killer for hire. That says a lot right there.”

“Yeah,it says I’m a few bricks short of a load,” she teases, and tips her head back to grin up at him.

“You’ve loved me no matter what. When I had nothing to offer you. When I was fucking mess. You still stuck around. And you stuck around no matter how hard I’ve made things on you.”

“Of course I have. I love you.”

“And that…” he presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose. “...is exactly what you bring to the whole wife thing. It’s more than enough.”

“You’re a sap,” she declares, and winks at him. “I love this side of you. The sweet and sappy side. Even I do have to keep it a secret from the world.”

“One day, Me. One day I promise you that I will let you reveal all my secrets to the world. When I no longer have a rep to maintain.”

“All of them?”

“Every single one.”

“Even about all your sketch books at home? And the blankie you have to have covering your feet at night? Millie’s old receiving blanket?”

“Even those,” he promises.

“Maybe I will do it during your eulogy. That seems like as good a time as any.”

Grinning, he motions for her to step under the stream of water. “Planning my funeral already, are you?”

“Oh,I’ve had it planned for years,” she chides, and then gives a squeal when he lands a backhand on one of the cheeks of her ass. “For your information…” she dips her head under the water; eyes closing as his fingers once more massage at her scalp and clear her hair of the conditioner. “...I planned it for when you’re 99.”

“You couldn’t give me that extra year? That’s harsh.”

“You’re the one who said you didn’t want to make it to triple digits,” she points out, and turns to face him. “I thought I was just living up to your wishes.”

“That’s very kind of you. Very thoughtful.” His fingers move wet strands of hair away from the sides of her face, then clears the remaining suds of shampoo from around her eyes and off her cheeks and nose.

“I always have your best interests at heart,” she chides, standing on her tiptoes as he leans down to kiss her and then reaching for the shampoo. “My turn?” she asks hopefully, and shakes the bottle in front of his face.

“Didn’t we agree on this? I wash my own hair? Unless there’s a reason I can’t.”

“Don’t be so difficult. There’s nothing wrong with me doing these things for you. I WANT to do it. You take care of me, I take care of you. This marriage isn’t a one way street.”

“Esme…”

She drops her chin to chest and stares up at him. “Tyler…”

He’s unable to resist that long; those dark, seemingly innocent eyes surrounded by long, even darker lashes. “Fine,” he relents, and retreats to the lone built-in bench at the back of the shower. “You get your way. As usual.”

“Because you love me.” She uses a set of controls on the side wall to switch the water flow from the rain shower head at her end, to the one on his. “Because you can’t live without me. Admit it.”

“I’ve already admitted that MANY times.”

“We really ARE codependent as fuck.” She squeezes a helping of shampoo into her palm, then begins scrubbing it into his hair.

“We already talked about this. We have perfectly legitimate reasons to be the way we are. We could be worse things, you know. Than co-dependent. We could be serial cheaters.”

“Or serial killers.”

He chuckles. “That just popped into your head? You thought of that because…?”

“Because I have enough rage inside this little body to do some serious damage to a lot of people.”

“Should I sleep with one eye open, or…?”

“You’re not on my list. Why would you be?”

He shrugs in response; eyes closing and his body relaxing as her fingers press into his scalp; deeply and aggressively kneading.

“I can feel the scars,” she remarks. “I bet if you shaved your head right down, you’d have a pretty good road map up there.”

“Want me to do it? Shave it?”

“Nope. I like it this way.” Her nails lightly scratch against his scalp. “Longer version of my favourite haircut on you. Feel good?”

“Feels really good.” His head falls forward; brow resting against her and his hands finding her hips. “Might put me to sleep.”

“Now that I would be a waste of perfectly good nakedness. Rinse.”

Tilting his back, he lets the steady flow of water rid his hair of suds and uses his palms to scrub and clean his beard. When he opens his eyes, her back is towards him and she’s reaching out to place the bottle back on the metal shelves in the corner. And she gives a shriek -followed by giggle- when he curls an arm around her waist and yanks her into his lap. And she presses a kiss to his cheek and adjusts her position; turning sideways and perching herself on his left thigh while her legs dangle over the right.

Her eyes close as she nestles her face into her favourite spot; that warm, safe place between neck and shoulder. And for several minutes, neither of them speak. Both her arms wrapped around his neck; his head resting back against the tiles and a palm repeatedly smoothing up and down her thigh. And she gives a long, breathy sigh when his lips find her shoulder; light and feathery kisses peppered across her collarbone.

“Speaking of being naked…”

Grinning, she pulls back to look at him. “Promise you won’t drop me this time?”

“We can do it differently. You can ride me.”

Her eyes widen and she gives a dramatic gasp. “Twice in one night? Is this second Christmas? I usually don’t get to do that twice a month, never mind twice in one day!”

With a smirk, he tangles his fingers in her hair. His voice rumbling deep in his chest as he growls, “Come here,” and pulls her into a ravenous, aggressive kiss.

*****

He’s the first out of the bathroom. Peeling the towel from around his waist, he uses it to vigorously scrub at his hair and then tosses it in the nearby hamper. He snags a clean pair of sweats from the open suitcase lying in the corner of the room; every piece of clothing that has to return with them to Australia now packed away and ready for departure in four days. He’s anxious to get home; each minute leading him closer to the moment he can sleep in a more familiar bed and feel the sand beneath his feet and between his toes. To the sound of the waves rolling onto the shore and the smell of salt hanging in the hair; the slight rustle of the surrounding trees as a breeze blows through them and the calls and the ‘chatter’ of the wildlife that takes up residence in the woods and upon their stretch of land.

“You going to check on the kids?” Esme calls from the bathroom; her voice drowned out by the hairdryer. “Make sure no one has fallen out of bed. Or sneaking Ipad time when it’s supposed to be night-night time.”

“In a sec.” He rakes both hands through his hair, then reaches for a tube of pain relief cream that sits on the dresser; eyes falling on the plastic bag bearing the name of the bodega that Esme had sat down before stepping into the shower. His curiosity gets the better of him; eyes narrowing and confusion immediately setting in at what greets him when he peers into the bag.

“What did you say?” Esme asks, as she pads into the room; combing her fingers through her now dry hair, clad in an oversized bubblegum pink bathrobe. “I didn’t hear you. Did you check on them or…?”

“I said in a sec. Babe…” he turns to face her, bag in hand. “...what’s this?”

Eyes widening, she briefly -and nervously- chews on her bottom lip. “It’s a pregnancy test.”

"Yeah, I see that. But whose? Why’s it here? Why you’d bring it home? It can’t be yours.”

Her teeth dig even harder into her lip; hands anxiously fidget with the belt on her robe.

“It CAN’T be yours. There’s no way. It’s not possible. How could that even happen? Scientifically, it can’t.”

“Actually it can. Riley said one in two hundred women will get pregnant despite having their tubes tied.”

“Okay, but we doubled up on things. I got fixed too. I mean, there’s no way you got pregnant with both of us getting things done.”

“There’s something called recanalization. It’s where the vas deferens grows back and creates a new connection and causes the vasectomy to reverse itself.”

“Wait…” he gives an awkward, uncomfortable chuckle. “...that’s a thing?”

Esme nods. “And you usually don’t find out it happened until your partner gets pregnant. Years later.”

“THIS many later? We haven’t been using anything for almost five years. Why would it wait until now to happen? Why not before?”

“It’s probably just how long it took. For things to reverse. I mean, I googled it and there were stories of pregnancies happening a decade after a vasectomy, so…”

“Jesus…” He issues a long, heavy exhale of breath and leans back against the dresser; eyes fixated on the bag still in his hands.

Tears well in her eyes. “You’re angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

“That pulsing vein in your neck says you are.”

“I am NOT angry,” he stresses. “Shocked as hell? Confused as fuck? Yeah. But I am not angry. Why would I be angry? I’ve got nothing to be angry about. You really think you are?”

“I think it’s a strong possibility.” She cautiously moves closer to him, then sinks down on the edge of the bed in front of him. “I mean, there’s signs. Things that I’ve felt before. Five times.”

“Like?”

“I’ve been moody, more emotional than usual, hungry constantly. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Yeah, but there’s some good reasons...other reasons than a baby...for those things. I mean, stress will do it. You’ve been stressed. About me, about the holidays in general, your mother, the neighbour, now all this crap with Mark.”

“I was feeling them before all that. Before we even left Australia.”

“How long before?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “A few weeks.”

“A few weeks? You’ve felt like this for a few weeks? What the hell, Esme? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t connect it to maybe being pregnant. I didn’t think it was possible either. I thought maybe it was just peri-menopause. Or I was just feeling rundown and overwhelmed; things have been crazy busy with both businesses and the kids’ after school schedules. I chalked it up to that. And then when you said you were going to do a job, I figured the worry of that just added to everything.”

“You still should have said something. If you weren’t feeling well...for whatever reason…”

“You were caught up in things for the business. It’s been insane lately. There’s been a huge influx of new clients, new hires, big high profile jobs…”

“Yeah, there has been. But you know what? None of that matters. YOU matter. I would have found a way; to deal with that and take care of you.”

“I didn’t need you taking care of me.”

“That seems to be a real theme with you lately. Not needing me.”

“Tyler, don’t even go there. We already fought about that. About me calling Riley that night and not you. And I have apologized a million times. What more do you want from me?”

“Nothing. I don’t want anything from you, Esme. And apparently you don’t want or need anything from me.”

“That is so unfair. And so far from the truth. Don’t do that. Don’t take everything as a slight to you. I didn’t keep it from you to hurt you. I just didn’t think it was anything but stress and being busy and feeling rundown. That’s it. It had nothing to do with not wanting you or needing you. Because I need you in so many ways. And not just as my husband. You know that I want you. And that I need you. In every way.”

Sighing heavily, he tosses the box onto the top of the dresser, then crosses his arms over his chest.

“This has nothing to do with how I feel about you,” she insists. “And I know you taking everything as a personal slight is just part of your trauma and your response to it and…”

“Can we NOT do this?” he interjects. “Can we not go totally off the rails? That doesn’t need to be talked about. That…” he nods down at the box. “...THAT needs to be talked about.”

“You ARE angry.”

“I’m going to GET angry if you keep saying that. I am not angry. I am confused and I’m shocked and I’m wondering how the fuck this kind of thing can happen and…” he sighs, running his palms over his hand. “...do you really think you are?”

“It’s a strong possibility. I mean, I have skipped two periods.”

“Holy fuck…” he shakes his head incredulously. “...this just gets better.”

“You know things have never been normal when it comes to that. How many times have I skipped periods and not been pregnant?”

“How many times have you skipped them and BEEN pregnant?” he counters. “More times than not, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she sheepishly admits. “Look, I get you’re frazzled and you’re confused and you know what? So am I. But getting upset with me…”

“I am not…” he snaps, then briefly closes his eyes and gathers his composure. “...I am not upset with you. It’s just...wow.”

“Just two weeks ago you brought up wanting another one. You talked about how we should both get things reversed and…”

“And we talked about it and we came to the conclusion that I didn’t really want a baby, I was looking for a way to fill the fucking crater that my son left behind when he died. Did we not agree to that?”

She nods, then briefly looks away as she struggles to hold back a flood of tears. “You wouldn’t want it then? If I am?”

“I didn’t say that. I would NEVER say that.”

“I mean, if I am, there’s options. If we’re not in a good place, we don’t…”

“There’s no options. That’s our kid. A life we made together. Just ‘cause the timing sucks and it’s totally unexpected doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want it. Do you think that little of me?”

“No!" she exclaims. " Of course don’t! I love you. You’re the love of my life. You have no idea how I look at you. How I see you. I just assumed the way you’re reacting and the way you’re talking, that maybe you think it's a bad idea.”

“Do I think it’s a great idea? No. Would I want to get rid of a kid I helped make? No. Would I love the kid with everything I have? Yes. Why? You don’t want it?”

“It’s not that I don’t want it. It’s…” she struggles to find the words; hands increasing the intensity and speed at which they fidget with the belt on the bathrobe.

He drops to his knees in front of her; prying her hands away from the terry cloth sash and gripping them tightly. “Tell me. Please.”

She looks up at him. “I love you. More than I ever thought I could love someone. And I love our life together. I never want it to end. I love our family and what we’ve built. And I love being a mom. You know all that, right?”

“I do. I do know all of that.”

“I’m going to be forty two years old; there’s a greater risk of things going wrong as a mother ages. And we’ve had complications with every single one but Millie. Look at TJ and Tanner…”

“That was just a freaky thing that went wrong. It didn’t happen again; with Brookie and Takota. They were fine.”

“I’ve had problems with each pregnancy except for the first. Bleeding and cramping and scare after scare. How many times did we think we’d lose our babies? More times than you can count.”

“But we didn’t lose them.”

“We lost one. And I lost one with Mark.”

“And you had seven perfectly healthy babies. I mean, Tanner had his issues, but got better and now he’s great. He’s the healthiest out of them. Not to mention once you got past the first trimester, things went fine. For all of them. I mean the last two didn’t even want to come out; they liked it so much in there.”

She manages a laugh. “We almost had to forcibly evict them.”

“And look how well you did bringing them into the world. Totally natural. In the water. That was fucking incredible.”

“I guess I’m just worried about losing another one. Because I couldn’t take that, Tyler. And I know you couldn’t either.”

“So based on a totally small percentage of something going wrong, you wouldn’t want a baby? OUR baby?”

“I want it. I’m just scared. Of having one. Especially now. With so much shit going on. All this craziness. It’s not exactly the best time.”

“Have any of them been at the best time? Either when they were conceived or when they were born? They’ve all been tied to bad shit in some way. That seems to be our thing; making babies or having them when shit’s tough.”

“And I’m terrified something will go wrong. Remember with Declan? When they thought maybe he had Down Syndrome?”

“I do. And you know what else I remember? I remember that you and I talked about it...extensively...many times. And that we agreed that if there was something going on with him, it didn’t matter. Because it was our kid and we could handle anything thrown at us. I mean, we even researched the first steps into getting whatever he’d need to thrive and learn. Are you saying now you wouldn’t be able to handle it?”

“I know I’d be able to. And believe me, it doesn’t matter if there are problems. Because that’s my baby. No matter what.”

“But…”

“I just...I don’t know...I just…” she sighs heavily, then clamps her mouth shut.

“Esme, if there is ever a time you need to be one hundred percent completely honest with me, this is it. You need to tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. I can’t read your mind, babe. Tell me. Please.”

“Even if it might upset you?”

“Even then. You need to tell me. What’s going on? What’s got you so worried and so scared?”

“It’s a lot of work. ANY baby. Even the perfectly healthy ones.”

“I know. I’ve been through this seven times. Eight times if we count Austin. I know what it takes. And you know that I put everything I have into it; being a dad.”

“You do. And you’re awesome at it. The whole daddy thing.”

“So then what are you concerned about? What…?”

“Children with special needs bring a lot to the table. A lot of extra stuff.”

“I know that too. I’m prepared for that.”

“Are you? Prepared for all of that kind of stuff? The amount of time that will be devoted? The possible health issues? The therapies that we'll have to submit them to? The way the other kids will feel animosity towards their sibling? The stress it'll put on our marriage? Are you prepared for ALL that?" ”

“Are you? Are you saying you couldn’t handle it?”

She shakes her head.

“Esme, please. Just tell me.”

“I’m worried that if something is wrong, it’ll get to be too much.” The tears finally fall. “It will be too much to handle and you’ll leave.”

“Baby...hey…come here…”

Dropping her hands, he gathers her into his arms; a hand on the back of her head as she sobs into his shoulders. He knows it’s a mix of things; her battle with her own mental health, her worries surrounding his, the fact her relationship with her mother finally met its drastic and painful end. And now the emergence of her supposedly dead ex husband; a man who’d caused her so much pain and torment and she’d finally gotten rid of.

“It’s okay.” The fingers of one hand gently massage her scalp; the other palm moving in slow, smooth and comforting circles in the middle of her back. “You’re alright.”

“Promise me you won’t leave. If things get really hard. If something IS wrong. Promise me.”

“I’m not taking off. No matter how tough things get. You can’t get rid of me that easily. It’s going to take either you leaving, or death.”

“Well I know I’m not going anywhere and I hope that last one isn't for a very long time.”

Pulling away, he smooths her hair away from her face and then cradles her cheeks in his palms; thumbs brushing away the river of tears. “Esme, I’m not that guy anymore. The one that runs. I haven’t been him in a long time. Because of you. You changed that. You changed ME.”

“I need you. Not just because of this. Or because of Mark. Because of so many things. I can’t do this without you. This life. I just can’t.”

“You don’t have to. I am right here.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, his lips linger against the soft, warm skin. “I’m not going anywhere, babe. I’m with you until the end. And I hope that’s a hell of a long time away, too.”

“I didn’t mean to accuse you of still being that way. The guy that runs. I didn’t mean…”

“You have every right to worry about that. I’d worry about it too. I totally get it.”

“I’m scared. Of so many things.”

“Well, me taking off shouldn’t be one of those. That’s not going to happen. Everything else? We’ll handle it. Our track record for getting through hard shit is pretty good. I don’t plan on ruining that. Do you?”

She shakes her head.

“You know what I think we should do? Before we have any more of these conversations? I think we should find out for sure. If there IS a baby. I think that’s where we need to start, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she sniffles, as gentle, calloused fingertips clean up the last of her tears. “I do. Will you stay with me? While I take it? And while I wait.”

“Like I said,” he places a soft, tender kiss on her lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth #Tyler Rake x OF #Chris Hemsworth Extraction #Tyler and Esme series #Extraction fan fic #Tyler Rake fan fic

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inspirashion · 3 years

Text

I posted 88 times in 2021

54 posts created (61%)

34 posts reblogged (39%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.6 posts.

I added 264 tags in 2021

#voltron legendary defender - 43 posts

#voltron - 41 posts

#voltron keith - 37 posts

#voltron au - 33 posts

#voltron pidge - 33 posts

#kidge - 28 posts

#keidge - 26 posts

#voltron lance - 9 posts

#voltron hunk - 8 posts

#voltron fanfic - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 103 characters

#but there' s a fic already out there but it's not going to get updated anytime soon if any time at all.

My Top Posts in 2021

An Unlikely Couple

Serial Killer Keith x Writer Pidge

(Inspired by the joke in @flannelfangirl fic: Tread Marks.

Pidge was always told that she shouldn't put all her eggs in one basket. She was a smart girl - she had her doctorate in astrophysics at 25, at a young age, she's worked on so many things, patented even more.

But, her friends told her to stop burying herself in work and try something new. So she did. Now, she's attempting to write a novel. She's read so many murder mysteries, so she decided to write one herself. But alas, she's stuck on a murder scene.

She would've tried to search for it on Google, but then again, she didn't want to raise suspicions at the company so she kept silent.

"Ah shit." She grumbled. She threw her head back and frowned. Her coffee sat on the table, her cake slice barely touched.

"Your serial killer is dumb." A voice said. Pidge's eyes snapped open and she rose up and looked at the source of the voice.

"And you are...?"

The raven-haired man shrugged. "Just a man who read your draft."

"And who gave you that permission?"

"You left it wide open on the table."

"That still didn't give you the right."

"Anyway, the killer is a fool. You can't kidnap someone like that. Chloroform doesn't work immediately. It takes about five minutes."

Pidge raised her eyebrow. "And how would you know that?"

The raven-haired man leaned back and smirked. "I'm a serial killer." He folded his arms, looking smug.

Pidge laughed. It resounded throughout the café. The raven-haired man didn't seem fazed.

"You're a serial killer?! What a joke!"

"You don't believe me? Fine. Wait until I show up in your house with a cutlass."

"I dare you, bitch."

35 notes • Posted 2021-09-16 02:25:29 GMT

Lionheart: Mages of Voltron

Bonus: Long-haired Keith

Being Half-Galra, Keith is able to use two separate Fires - the regular Fire of heat and destruction and an unusual Purple Flame that which was the combination of his father's magic and his mother's abilities.

After finding the Blue Lion and getting carried to the floating Castle, Keith became Voltron's Red Mage, his Lion and partner being Désordre - The Red Lion Deity of Fire and Chaos.

Out of the other five (yes, there are Six Mages of Voltron), Keith was the first one to bond completely with his Lion, so much so that Désordre is able to manifest in a form of Keith.

Both Mage and Lion are like two peas in a pod —hotheaded, audacious, impulsive and share one brain cell. The two, on their good days, are nothing but the embodiment of chaos, hence the nickname given to them by Lance: "The Chaotic Duo."

Additionally, both are proficient with Swords, Désordre being hailed as not only a Deity of Fire and Chaos, but Swords as well.

See the full post

37 notes • Posted 2021-10-21 02:45:51 GMT

Kidge Child

Kelsey Alexander

"My parents are wonderful artists. After all, their greatest work of art is me. So get that in your thick skulls, fucking extras."

He is the son of Keith and Katie Alexander, the Black and Green Paladins of Voltron. This boy be low on caffeine, low on hacking prowess, but damn, he sure is high on sass.

When he was much younger, Lance always volunteers to babysit because Kelsey is packing those snarky comments, it's never a dull moment with the brat around.

38 notes • Posted 2021-11-13 04:16:18 GMT

The Sword and Shield

The Voltron:LD Shield Hero AU wherein Pidge is Naofumi and Keith is Raphtalia. Dunno if this has been done before...

The thought came when I saw something about Shield Hero S2, and I felt VLD's recurring Sword and Shield theme could be applied (with a dash of romance, of course!)

Also, the original backstories of the Shield Hero characters cannot be applied here.

After journeying together for weeks, probably months, feelings start to catch and Pidge learning more about Keith’s past and how he had no one but Shiro (who's now missing) and he feels like giving up because life is throwing all sorts of shit their way, Pidge says the above...

(I'm weak.)

See the full post

48 notes • Posted 2021-08-25 05:52:01 GMT

VOLTRON ROCK BAND AU

So, I'm co-writing a vld fic and decided to do some art for it. I spent a lot of time on their hairs though *cough* Keith *cough cough*. Fic link is right below:

See the full post

52 notes • Posted 2021-07-14 04:31:55 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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maknaesdancersrappers · 4 years

Text

Devoted 2

part 9

Overall warning/s: kinkier smut (eg. voyeurism, exhibition, etc.) character death, dark themes

Just how devoted is Jaehyun to you?

prev: part 8

wc: 8.2k

You could hear voices outside. You peek out of one eye, blinded by the light after being shut for so long and automatically forced them open when you realized it was the sunlight coming from the window that blinded you. You whipped your head towards the little alarm clock on your nightstand, blinking at the red numbers that read 10:54 AM.

Shit.

You sat up, cussing at yourself when your head began to spin. Pausing for a moment, you realized you didn’t have anything planned today aside from getting groceries for tonight’s get together. Still, you scold yourself, you shouldn’t be oversleeping; not after last night’s events.

Then you heard voices outside your room again. It sounded like Jaehyun, but why was he still home? The other voice took you a moment to register, but eventually recognized it as Yuta’s. Why were they here at this hour? You swung your legs over the bed and trudged to the bathroom to freshen up. When you were done, you threw on some decent clothing and peeked out of the door.

You froze when you met eyes with a complete stranger, heart dropping to the floor as you assumed the worse. He doesn’t seem to notice your distress at his presence, respectfully bowing his head and quietly greeting you a good morning. It throws you off for a moment until Jaehyun appears behind him and smiles at you.

“Good morning, baby. Did you sleep well?”

“I,” You looked down the hall and spotted a couple more men, dressed in the same shirt as the first one, talking to Yuta, “Yeah… aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“Not today. I’m having the security cameras installed. Get your phone, by the way, so you can download their app.”

You got your phone and followed him out into the living room, where Yuta smiles at you.

“Good morning! I hope we didn’t wake you up.” He gestures to his employees.

“Not at all! If anything, I should be thanking you for doing so since I overslept.”

He motions for you to come closer, pointing to a dark gray box by the television, “Here, the QR code for the app is on the camera’s router. It saves every footage from each camera and only you two have access to it; or a third party of your choice in case of emergencies, which I recommend you doing. Jaehyun is already designated as the admin, unless you have any qualms on that.”

You playfully hum, jutting your bottom lip out and crossing your arms, “I do, actually.”

Jaehyun chuckles, “You can be the admin to it, dear.”

“I’m kidding, does it really matter which one of us is the admin?” You opened up your phone’s camera and placed it over the QR code. It sends you to a website, titled Nakamoto Technologies, that has a small text greeting Jaehyun, and a unique download button for the app. You tapped on the button and waited for it to download.

“Sir,” One of Yuta’s employees came forward, “We’re done with installing the cameras.”

“Ah, good. Please set it up as well.” He nods, turning to you and Jaehyun, “Come watch so you’ll know what to do in case there’s a system error or reboot.”

You gather at the kitchen table where the man opens up their company laptop and begins to go through the steps one by one.

As his employee demonstrates, your phone vibrates to notify you that the download has finished and you launch the app. You’re taken to a feed of the hallway outside your apartment, where one of the employees is checking the camera and gives a thumbs up.

“Door cam is live.” The man in front of you announced.

You swiped right and the feed changed; you saw yourself along with the others and you looked over to where the camera was at. It was a small dark dome in the corner of the ceiling, barely noticeable at first glance and could even pass off as a light fixture.

“Living room cam is live. So is the hallway camera and kitchen camera. Waiting for the balcony and bedroom camera feeds.”

A part of you still didn’t feel safe as you watched the other camera feeds connect. If the person does get in, the only thing these cameras can do is alert Jaehyun and be a witness to the possible crime done onto you. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. You’re still praying to every higher being that this is all some prank and whoever Kun was trying to tell you about is just a thing of the past.

You feel a hand come over your shoulders and Jaehyun squeezes you lightly, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You dismissed, “Just need some coffee. Would any of you like anything?”

After they assured you they were fine, you ambled over to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee. You glanced at the kitchen camera; it didn’t look noticeable either. Choosing the hazelino muffin flavor and popping the bronzy pod into the Nespresso machine, you leaned against the counter and waited for it to brew. Did Jaehyun take a day off today just to have the cameras installed? Or is he coming into work when they’re finished?

Today, Ten was coming in from Thailand to visit and everyone was adamant to get together. Fortunately, you and Jaehyun already volunteered to host the gathering. You had to go to the grocery to pick up some ingredients for the food you had planned on serving. Would Jaehyun accompany you? You glanced over your shoulder just as your coffee was ready and saw Jaehyun and Yuta talking seriously.

Her personal camera.

That’s what you could read from your fiance’s lips. Personal camera? For what?

Images from that time in his office and the lewd video saved on his computer flashed in your head, bringing a wave of heat over your cheeks.

Oh.

You picked up your coffee mug and softly blew at it, wondering if Jaehyun had ever watched that video back.

A cell phone rang behind you and Jaehyun’s voice took over the abrupt halt of the ringtone.

“What? She hasn’t been home for 3 days?”

The concern in his voice makes you spin around. Who was he talking about?

“How about our cameras? Nothing?” He puts a hand over his forehead and uses his thumb and ring finger to rub circles on his temples, “Okay. Yeah, no, she—she’s fine. They’re done installing here. I’ll let her know. You take care, too, hyung.”

That must have been Yunho, then. You let out a little gasp; were they talking about Mina? Dread and worry began to bubble in your stomach. Could the person who sent the note be the reason why Mina is missing? Was she kidnapped? You put your mug down and paced towards Jaehyun, “Was that about Mina?”

He frowns, “Y-yeah, it was. Yunho said her family requested for a welfare check after she didn’t contact them like she usually does when she gets home. The police have been contacted already.”

“I hope she’s okay.” You bit down on your lip, “Nothing seemed strange when she left for work the day she was last seen?”

“No, she went home with one of the secretaries, Sera. But Sera says they separated at the train station because Mina said she was going to meet someone and that was the last of their interaction. Mina never mentioned who she was meeting or where exactly she was going.”

“Then police should search up any surveillance cameras around the area to determine where she went off to.” Yuta interjected, “There’s bound to be establishments that have their own CCTVs that caught her.”

You put a hand on Jaehyun’s arm, “Please update me about her situation, okay?”

“Okay.” He pulled you forward and kissed your forehead, “I’m sure she’s fine. Let’s not think the worst has befallen her.”

“Even so, she looks like someone who would put up a good fight before going down.” Yuta curtly chuckles before he clears his throat. “Looks like the setup is done and everything is working fine. If they’re are any problems, I’m a call away.”

“Thank you, Yuta. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for this?”

“Let’s call it an engagement gift.” He grins brightly, “And if you want the same setup for your house, we’ll call that a housewarming gift.”

Yuta and his workers left shortly afterwards, leaving you to return to your coffee and Jaehyun insisting he’ll cook lunch for the two of you.

“What time does Ten arrive?” He asks, washing his hands at the sink.

“Two, I think. He’ll have a few hours to rest up a bit at his hotel.” You take a lengthy gulp of your coffee, softly moaning at the warmth coating your throat. “Oh, I have to go to the grocery!”

Jaehyun hums, “Okay, let’s go around three?”

You smile to yourself; of course he wouldn’t let you go alone. You definitely did not mind. It’s been a while since the two of you went grocery shopping together. “Sounds good. I’m sure they’ll be here at 9 so there’s plenty of time to cook and dilly dally.”

“Dilly dally?” He repeats, clearly amused as he spares you a glance before fetching ingredients in the refrigerator. “What exactly do you mean by dilly dally?”

“Whatever you want it to mean as, baby.” You shot back with a wink, “But it feels so tense lately, a bubble bath sounds good right now.”

“You deserve one, baby.”

You pout, “I think you deserve one, too. Even a massage.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, unable to contain his smile. “Should I call for a masseuse later?”

“Like I’d let any other woman touch you for too long.” You huffed, jutting your bottom lip out at the thought.

“I’d still like a massage though. If I do the dishes, can I get a happy ending?”

“Of cou— have you ever received a happy ending massage?!”

He bursts out laughing, “No, I haven’t. Don’t worry. Are those even still a thing? Like there are still salons that offer that?”

“I don’t know and we never will because we can handle it ourselves, okay?”

“Baby, calm down, do you honestly think I’d avail that from anyone else aside from you? Besides, I only found out about those when I was in high school.”

Your ears perked up at this, “High school?”

“Yeah, I told you how my friends back then were basically scum, right? Every week, especially after training, they’d get massages. I went once and the girl offered the happy ending service — which I didn’t really understand until she tried reaching for my dick and I declined it.” He practically shuddered at the memory, pausing from chopping onions. “I never went with them again.”

This was the first time he openly talked about something from when he was in high school. It’s not a happy memory, but he’s still opening up.

“Do you really hate them? Your friends from high school, I mean.”

Jaehyun doesn’t respond at first and you patiently wait for him to set aside the vegetables he’s cut before he looks at you. “I still had fun with them, I guess. If it weren’t for the vices, I would have liked to stay friends with most of them.”

You’re finished with your coffee, bringing it over to the sink to wash and put it away on the rack. Afterwards, you walked over to Jaehyun and kissed his cheek as a silent thank you for opening up.

He glances at you with an unsure smile, knowing you kissed him for something but wasn’t sure on the cause, so you took the chance to kiss his lips.

“I’ll set the table.” You quietly murmured after he pulled away.

Instead of the actual dining table, you only laid out the kitchenware on the breakfast counter. Jaehyun finished cooking just as you got two bowls full of rice and sat yourself down on the barstool. He brings over the food after plating and plays a song on his phone after quickly hooking up the bluetooth speakers from the living room.

You both start eating, appreciatively moaning at the burst of flavor dancing on your tongue. What you’d do to have Jaehyun cook for the two of you permanently if he wasn’t so busy with work.

“Oh, right. My mom called this morning. She found two possible wedding venues for us already.” Jaehyun informs you after swallowing. “One is a high end resort and the other is a private property; a friend of hers. I think it’s Yebin’s aunt.”

“Doesn’t the resort sound better? We can reserve rooms for the guests.”

“If we choose the resort, we’ll be reserving the whole place.”

You almost choked on your food, “We barely have 50 guests, Jaehyun. I don’t think we have to reserve the entire place. There are people who could have been waiting to book that place for a vacation.”

He purses his lips, “Then let’s go with my mom’s friend. It’s a villa they own for their family’s vacation homes and they have cherry blossom trees that fit the color scheme you want. We could have the entire place for ourselves. We wouldn’t need that much security either.”

Pushing the rice around your bowl with your chopsticks, you silently reminded yourself how prominent of a family Jaehyun belonged to. It would make headlines, of course, and there’s bound to be press trying to sneak a few shots of the wedding. Privacy is top priority among the Jungs.

“Okay. But can we do an ocular?”

“Oh, uhm…” Jaehyun trails off, “I might have an overseas trip this weekend. Is it okay if only you and mom go? Her friend is only available this week, too, before she heads back to Europe.”

You’re a little disappointed, but you’re not going to tell him you want him there because you’re certain he’ll do everything in his power to cancel the trip for a petty request. You nod your head, “I don’t mind! In fact, maybe I’ll ask my mom to tag along and we can have a nice girl’s weekend.”

“That sounds great.” He grins, “Ask Minkyung and Yebin as well, maybe they’re free.”

“If we want cherry blossoms to bloom on our wedding day, that would give us six months from today.” It’s the middle of September and Spring starts in April. “Isn’t that too quick? Doesn’t wedding planning take at least a year?”

He reaches over the table and puts his hands over yours, “Would you rather have me preserve cherry blossom trees for our wedding?”

You feel your eyes almost bugging out at the suggestion, “That… sounds expensive… preserve a tree?”

“No, love, a couple of trees. We can’t just have one, maybe six? And you know I wouldn’t mind spending millions for our wedding.”

“Well I mind!” You groaned, “But honestly, a spring wedding is the most ideal for me, if not a winter one.”

Jaehyun chuckles, “I don’t mind having a wedding for each season, baby. If you’re worried about the cost and the possible annoyance of our friends and families at having four weddings, then we could always just dress up for the occasion and do it ourselves.”

This makes you laugh while shaking your head in disbelief, “Just say our vows, kiss, and dance for a night?”

“Who knows, maybe for the winter ‘wedding’, we’ll be three.”

It didn’t click in your head at first what he had meant at first because as cheesy as it sounds, the way he looked at you with soft, gleaming eyes had you distracted for a moment, but his thumb moves across your knuckles and you have visions of his hand running over your swollen belly.

“That soon?” You lightheartedly teased, moving your hand so your fingers intertwined.

“I said ‘maybe.’” He squeezes your hand, “We’ll have a baby whenever you’re ready.”

“Well then,” You retract your hand away from his when you see both your plates are empty, “I can promise you that you don’t have to wait a year.”

You stand up and start to reach for his plates but he lightly swats your hands away.

“Nuh uh, not today. I’ll do the dishes.”

“But you already cooked for us.”

“And I’ll clean up for us, too.” He drags your plate away from you and stands up as well. “For a price, of course.”

The coy smile on his face makes you narrow your gaze at him. Putting a hand on your hip, you cocked a brow, “And that price is?”

He winks at you, “It involves your mouth.”

“That’s it?” You scoffed, sashaying over to his side of the table, “Easy.”

The smug look on his face is instantly wiped away when you grab his crotch and he winces in shock.

“I—I meant later—”

“Oh, I know. Just warming it up.”

Jaehyun tries to move away, but ends up bucking his hips into your touch when you flex your hands. The pained expression on his face makes you giggle, seeing the conflict of trying to be sane enough to do his chores or just giving into your temptation.

You pull away and cross your arms, “I’ll go run us a bath now.”

“God damn it.” He grumbles, but sucks in a breath and forces out a smile, “Okay. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Take your time.”

“No the fuck I won’t.”

You burst out laughing, spying the annoyance in his features as he walks past you after gathering the plates in his hands. You make your way down the hall, glancing at the newly installed camera without much thought, and head inside the bathroom. As you run the bath, you peruse through your small collection of bath bombs and pick out a pink and grayish-purple one with a rose design. Giving it a quick whiff, you sigh at the scent of jasmine and ylang-ylang invading your senses. Any other day, Jaehyun would have probably preferred the green tea and peppermint one (although you’re convinced he’s only amused that it’s shaped like a dinosaur) but you’re certain he’s going to love this one just as much.

You gently lower it into the warm water, the instant fizzing of the bath bomb as it disintegrates in your hand tickles you. You let it float on its own to turn the tap off and decide to get it before Jaehyun comes. However, as you were halfway through tugging off your shirt above your head, a pair of hands slithered over your bare waist from behind to your chest. You toss your shirt to the side and strained your neck to look at Jaehyun, who merely smiles.

“Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just warming it up.”

“Enough warming up, the water will get cold.” You pushed against him using your butt as you peeled down your shorts and underwear.

He steps back and you think it’s so he could take off his clothes, but then you feel his hands on your ass, spreading your cheeks apart so he could access your pussy with his tongue. You fall forward, grabbing onto the edge of the tub with a loud gasp.

“Jae—”

He moans and the vibrations affect you as well. You weren’t very keen on this position, not when his nose is just poking at your anus, but he obviously doesn’t mind.

“Jaehyun,” You whimpered when his tongue reached your clit, “The water.”

He relents, standing up after delivering a soft smack on your pussy, but doesn’t let go of your body. “I know, I know.”

You straighten yourself up, only to flinch when he snakes his hand between your legs. “If you keep doing that, I’ll feel bad about wasting this bath I ran.”

He chuckles, kissing your shoulder, “Which one is this one?”

“It’s jasmine-scented.” You push his hand away and spin around, grabbing hold onto the edge of his shirt. “It’s called Sex Bomb.”

His eyebrows shoot up ever so slightly, “Is that so? Well, let’s get my clothes off and hop in.”

“If you could have just kept your hands to yourself for just a second, we could have breezed through that step ages ago.” You pulled his shirt up and he shrugs it off completely, tossing it to where you discarded your shirt. You then push his sweats down and he kicks it off to the side.

Getting into the tub first, you wait for him to make himself comfortable before sitting between his legs and leaning back on his chest. The water’s temperature was just right, not too hot for the two of you to be bothered or too cold for either of you to get sick.

“Can we please make joined bath times a weekly thing?” You sighed, hugging onto one of his arms that slung around you.

“Baby, you read my mind.” Jaehyun kisses the back of your head. “Now, about that payment for earlier.”

You rolled your shoulders back, exaggerating your movements, “Ooh, my body still feels a bit stiff though.”

Jaehyun scoffs behind you, bringing his hands over your chest, “That’s it?” Mocking your tone from earlier, “Easy.”

“A new house!” Ten exclaims, pounding his fist on the table, shaking the cocktails in their glasses. “Tell me when and where so I can clear my schedule for the housewarming!”

“Knowing Jung, it’s not just a house.” Yebin makes a remark as she narrows her eyes at you for confirmation, to which you move your head around in a nonchalant manner, and she scoffs, “Of course.”

“Heard the Kangs bought new land down south.” Jaehyun snides, laid back on his chair with his arm draped on the back of yours. “Is it another private property or are you commercializing it?”

She snorts, rolling her eyes, “Of course we’re commercializing it. A resort we’ll have the honor of staying at before it even opens.”

Doyoung makes a face at her, “So, we’re the guinea pigs?”

Everyone laughs when Yebin unabashedly shrugs her shoulders and crinkles her nose.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, perking up in your seat. “Speaking of private property, Yebin, Minkyung, are you guys free this weekend? I’ll be doing an ocular for the wedding venue and it would be a great girl’s weekend—”

Minkyung gasps with visible excitement in her eyes, “Bachelorette party?!”

“Do you want strippers—ow!” Yebin yelps, jerking up and hitting her knee on the table. She glares at Jaehyun, “What are you, 12?”

“Our mothers are coming along.” He grits through his teeth before taking a sip of his whiskey. “I suggested having the two of you tag along since I’ll be out of the country this weekend.”

“Well then, I’m in! We can plan the actual bachelorette party there.” Minkyung gleefully chirps, smiling at you.

“No—ow!” It was Jaehyun’s turn to cry, hitting the underside of the table so hard that the forks clattered.

“Johnny, plan this man a bachelor’s party!” Yebin elbows the man beside her, who’s brows shoot up as he glances at Jaehyun.

“Okay. Leave it to me.”

Jaehyun grimaces and you laugh at his expression, knowing he can’t stop Johnny now if he says those four words.

“Enough about us!” You wave your hand around, feeling warm from your fourth glass of wine. “How about you guys? Dons? Are you still hooking up with that divorce attorney?”

Doyoung almost spat out his whiskey, quickly grabbing a napkin to dab his lips. Everyone begins to jeer as he coughs loudly, “Uhm, yeah, every other week. Just to destress, you know?”

“Nice.” Yebin raises her wine glass at him, but he just makes a face at her. “Oh my god, imagine if you accidentally knock that chick up. You’d have a kid before these two.”

“Not a chance. She’s both on pills and film.” Doyoung vehemently shuts the idea down, shaking his head in denial. “I’m not fit to be a dad either.”

“Aw, Dons,” You coo, “You don’t know that. Didn’t you have a name planned for a son back in high school?”

He sucks his teeth, looking up as he tries to remember, eyes growing wide along with a smile, “Oh, right! I think I said Jeno or something. I don’t know; that was for that project on genetics.”

“Oh my god,” Minkyung props her elbow up on the table and rests her chin on her palm, “Could you guys imagine all our kids being friends? That would be so cute. Please! We need to make them best friends, too!”

“Honey, that’s only happening if we all manage to get pregnant or impregnate someone in a specific timeline.” Yebin points out, taking another swig of her drink.

Minkyung pouts for a brief moment, using her free hand to meticulously tap her manicured nails rhythmically on the table before slapping the surface and leaning towards you. “When are you two having kids?”

You almost regurgitate your drink back into the glass, surprised that she was really contemplating the idea.

“[Y/N] promised we don’t have to wait a year after the wedding.” Jaehyun casually answers, swirling his whiskey around, “So maybe by the end of the next year?”

“Okay, I can do that.” Minkyung tells herself.

Yebin stares at her, “Min, you’re not actually thinking about having a baby just to make sure they’ll be besties with theirs. Think about your job.”

Minkyung worked as a model that was highly sought after by high end fashion brands and this barely gave her time to socialize since she flew to Europe and America for fashion weeks and photoshoots, let alone date someone.

“So I’ll be on hiatus for a few years, so what?” She waves her hand, “If these two are having kids, I am going to give them the best present: a best friend.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend.” Ten points out, “Gosh, do you even get laid?”

“You don’t know two shits, Ten.” Minkyung retorts in a sweet voice and an innocent smile. “Anyways, there’s something I am very curious about and I’m tipsy enough to ask it without regrets: what happened between you and Johnny?”

The table went silent for a moment before the two men in question burst out laughing.

“John, didn’t you tell them?”

“I was hoping I didn’t have to... with what’s going on and all but…” Johnny scratches his nape, letting out a heavy sigh, “Our relationship was just for shits and giggles. We established that from the get go especially since my parents arranged a marriage for me between a business partner.”

“I thought you got out of that?” Jaehyun asks, moving the hand behind to your shoulder and giving you a lazy massage. “The Bae conglomerate, right?”

Johnny nods his head, releasing another drawn out sigh before taking a sip, “Yeah, the one that hates men.”

“Irene?” Yebin’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head, “Her parents are arranging her marriage… with you?!”

“I’m sorry, is there something wrong with marrying me?” He says in faux offense, putting a hand over his chest and jutting his bottom lip out at her. “But, yeah, Irene. You know her?”

Jaehyun mumbles something into his glass about not being surprised about that, although those across the table — including Yebin — hears him, prompting Yebin to give him a pointed glare.

“Yeah, we were classmates. Kyeonggi Girls’.”

You licked your lips; “Kyeonggi…?”

“The elite all girls’ academy.” She flips her hair and bats her eyelashes at you, “Everyone was fake.”

“Why does that school sound familiar?”

“Because I went to Kyeonggi Boys’? Their brother school? Did you forget?” Jaehyun pinched your waist and you jerked towards him, backhanding his stomach for doing so. “But I agree, our school is a breeding ground for fakes.”

“I bet your schools had mandatory boy-girl interactions.” Johnny chuckled, “Did you two meet back then?”

“No. Thank god.” They said in unison, making everyone burst out into laughter while they share annoyed looks at one another.

“But, [Y/N],” Jaehyun clears his throat to cut the noise, “You mentioned before that we could have met back then.”

You frowned, not recalling what he was saying, “I did?”

“That interschool sports festival? You told me you won first place in swimming and my team won in basketball.”

“Oh!” You remembered now; during one of your first dates while you talked about competitive swimming, you mentioned winning an interschool competition and that was the time Jaehyun told you where he studied in high school after recognizing the said festival. You cupped his face, “I watched all the basketball games, though, I can’t believe I missed your face.”

“That’s because his visuals are just so-so back in high school. Kyeonggi Boys’ are assholes, but they’re hot. Jung must have blended right in, especially if he’s on varsity basketball.”

“I don’t know if I should be offended you clustered me with them as being assholes or flattered you called us hot.”

“Don’t let it get to your ego, Jung, your fiancee is right there. Besides,” Yebin leaned back, “Almost every girl in Kyeonggi’s wanted your dick. They loved the ice prince vibes; they didn’t even care that someone spread rumors that you were gay… I suppose it’s better that you two didn’t get together in high school because I’m sure my bitch ass classmates would tear your reputation apart.”

Jaehyun makes an indignant sound in retort, “I would have protected her if that had happened.”

Yebin makes a snide comment and sparks another little bicker between her and Jaehyun with Minkyung trying to calm both (mostly Yebin) down. You glance around the table, eyes a little heavy already; Ten and Johnny are talking to themselves about business, while Doyoung was on his phone. Sneaking a peek, you let out a scandalized gasp when you caught sight of the text he had just received.

“You? Sexting?” You put a hand over your mouth to further prove your shock at what you had witnessed. “Dons, just date the woman!”

His face goes bright red, eyes avoiding every gaze turned to him as everyone starts to tease him. “It’s nothing serious! I’m still not attracted to her, I just like the sex!”

“It always starts out that way.” Ten nudged him with his shoulder, “Just let yourself fall when it happens.”

“Anyways!” He exclaims, ready to change the topic, “Jaehyun’s bachelor party, yeah?”

“I don’t want one.” Jaehyun shakes his head, but the three other men have launched themselves into planning it.

“Invite Sicheng!” You butt into their conversation, “Oh, and Yuta, too!”

“Yuta?” Johnny repeats, “Nakamoto? Sure, why not. He’s a cool guy.”

“Ah, of Nakamoto Technologies?”

You knew Johnny knew Yuta, but you didn’t expect Doyoung to know him as well. “You know him, Dons?”

He shrugs, “Not really, but remember that emergency regarding a hack in our system? It was resolved, but the CEO wants to change suppliers. Nakamoto Tech was suggested to us and they seem efficient and trustworthy.”

“They handle our security systems, too. Both at work and here.” Jaehyun mentions, putting his hand back over your shoulder.

“He was here this morning.”

“But you’re moving, why do you need to install a security system here?” Doyoung asks, turning his gaze to where you gestured: the barely noticeable CCTV camera dome in the kitchen ceiling corner.

You open your mouth, ready to answer, but you hesitate, turning to Jaehyun instead, who seemed reluctant to give a reason as well. “Well,”

“Oh my god! Is it your stalker from college? He found you again, didn’t he?” Minkyung lets out a concerned gasp, putting her wine glass down.

You were ready to deny her allegations, but Jaehyun’s voice overpowers yours as he responds, “I’m afraid so. We’re tightening security up to catch him and put him in his place. That’s why I’m a little reluctant to go away for that business trip.”

You stayed quiet, confused as to why Jaehyun would say it was your college stalker, but then again it would be harder to explain why the two of you know that it’s not the guy from college. His hand finds yours under the table and he squeezes tightly with you returning the motion.

“Then hire a damn bodyguard for her!” Yebin yells, “You know you can’t be with her every waking hour and you can’t just lock her up, too!”

“I know that.” Jaehyun grits, “I’m already on top of it. I just haven’t run the idea by [Y/N] yet but I’ve already chosen two bodyguards for her.”

“Isn’t that too much?” You chewed on your bottom lip, glancing between Yebin and Jaehyun. “Do I really need two?”

“Yes.” They, along with Johnny, said. Jaehyun quickly follows up with, “It’s so that they can take turns. Think of it like morning and night shifts. If it were up to me, I would recommend two at a time.”

You shake your head, “I don’t need four bodyguards. But okay, if you think I really need them, then I’d like to meet the two you’ve chosen.”

“There’s a whole company worth of them if you don’t like the two I’ve picked out for you.”

“Oh, are these from Moon Security Services?” Johnny inquires, “Then you’ll be in good hands. Taeil has the best bodyguards and security personnel in the business. Don’t let his looks represent his employees, they’re all army trained.”

As you listened to their conversation, you picked a muscat grape from the platter in front of you and popped it into your mouth. Jaehyun, Johnny, Yebin, and Ten all come from rich families; it would be no surprise that they know who and what the best of best are. Minkyung, despite sharing the same last name as Yebin, isn’t from the Kang Conglomerate, and she proclaims herself as the pauper of the group, yet she studied all her school life under a scholarship and now earns at least 5-digits in dollars as a model. You and Doyoung come from well-off families and work well-paying jobs as well, although yours depended on your clients which made you the one in the group that earned the least. It wasn’t something that bothered you, but moments like these reminded you of it. Without Jaehyun, you wouldn’t be sipping on Schiava or munching on expensive grapes every week. Without him, you wouldn’t be living comfortably in a penthouse and soon, in a mansion that could house four families. You’d like to think you would still do well even if you weren’t with Jaehyun, but the thought of not being with him isn’t something you let your mind dwell on.

You feel a kiss on your temple; you closed your eyes and let yourself smile. When Jaehyun pulls away, you peer up at him and he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Just drowning in my thoughts. Thanks for pulling me out.”

“Is it the stalker?” Minkyung asks, “Karma will bite his ass eventually, [Y/N].”

“I just… What would he want from me anyways? Why me?”

Jaehyun kisses your hair, “If it’s you he wants, then honestly, I don’t blame him.”

“And if it’s not that guy from college,” Yebin crosses her arms over the table, “Let’s say this guy is actually after you, Jung, and they’re going to use [Y/N] against you.”

“If that’s the case,” He grabs a grape and twiddles it between his fingers. “then I’ll deal with it accordingly.”

You silently watch in shock as Jaehyun slowly digs his thumbnail into the little fruit’s flesh, drawing out the sweet juice.

“If someone has a problem with me, then take it out on me. I’m not going to forgive anyone who lays a hand on [Y/N].” He cuts the grape all the way through, popping one half into his mouth. “It’s petty to drag people who aren’t involved into situations they’re not a part of or don’t even belong to.”

It was five in the morning when you woke up with a horrible headache. Last night — well, a couple hours ago — you made the horrible decision to drink 3 bottles of wine with the girls and switch to whiskey when neither of you could stand up to grab a new bottle of Schiava in the fridge. You begrudgingly rolled off the bed, noting Jaehyun wasn’t beside you. You’re not even sure if he got into bed… you don’t even know how you got to bed.

Your mouth was dry like sandpaper, just begging for some water so you trudged your way out to the kitchen. You peered into the guest room, spying Minkyung and Yebin on each of the twin beds, recalling how they claimed each one and banished the boys on the couch. Walking out of the hallway, you silently laugh at Johnny draped across one of the armchairs while Ten and Doyoung comfortably laid themselves on the L-shaped couch, all of them snoring in disharmony. The kitchen cub lights were on and you vaguely heard the sound of running water. Reaching your destination, you find Jaehyun putting away the last whiskey glass into the dishwasher before shutting it and wiping his hands on a towel. On the kitchen island, there were two glasses filled with water and two painkillers.

“Oh, you’re up.” Jaehyun turns around and looks surprised to see you.

“You did the dishes?”

“Well, I only meant to grab us some water and painkillers, but I thought I’d do them anyway.” He gestures to the glasses you’ve already spotted. He cheekily grins at you, a little lopsided that told you he was still drunk, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask for compensation.”

You giggled, almost like a schoolgirl, when his dimples appeared. You drink one of the glasses, gulping down half of it before letting out a satisfied sigh when your thirst is finally quenched. “Are we getting too old to get drunk like this?”

“Absolutely not.” Jaehyun tears one of the painkillers and tosses it into his mouth, “We’re in our mid-20’s, what are you talking about?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m still drunk.” You swallowed down the other pill and chased it with water, “If that thing Minkyung wants — if we all had children and they become best friends — we gotta let them drink when they want, alright? Not like, at 14 when they’re curious, but at like, barely legal age. That’s fine, right? As long as they’re at someone’s house — no clubs and whatnots. We’re gonna be cool parents.”

“Okay, [Y/N].” He pulled you into a hug and kissed your cheek, “Let them drink at a barely legal age; got it.”

“It’s better they learn from us than some strangers. Give them enough freedom so they wouldn’t become rebellious or estranged. Promise me you’ll take our children out on daddy dates.”

“I promise to take our children out to daddy dates.” He repeats, “So mommy can have a spa day to herself.”

“We’re going to spoil them just enough so they wouldn’t turn into entitled brats.” You mumbled into his chest, “Promise me you’re not going to force them into inheriting the family business, especially if they want to become something else.”

“I promise, baby.” He kisses your cheek again, “Little [Y/N] can be anything she wants to be.”

“Hey,” You tilt your head back to see his face, “What if we have a son first?”

“Then what would you name him?”

You moved your hands to cup his cheeks, “Well, I don’t want him to be Jaehyun Jr. or Jaehyun the second… but I still want to name him after you. So maybe something with Jae?”

“Jaebeom? Jaeho? Jaegyu?” He pauses, “Uh… Jaemin?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll decide on it when I’m actually pregnant.”

Jaehyun ducks his head down and presses his lips against yours, “Okay.”

He leans forward again for another kiss, but you lightly push him away.

“Don’t be offended,” You swallowed, “But I want to throw up.”

“What? Then go to the bathroom!” He scolds in a playful manner before quickly escorting you to the toilet and holding your hair up for you.

“I should hire you once I save enough to move.” Minkyung states, moving her sunglasses up as a makeshift headband to inspect the little succulents on display, “You would know how I’d like my home. Something along the lines of light gray, green accents, and—”

“—a splash of pink.” You finished for her, throwing her a smirk over your shoulder as you checked the price of the snake plant.

“See! You know me so well.” Her face drops, “Unless I’m that readable.”

“No, it’s because I lived with you for 4 years.” You laughed, moving over to compare the plants side by side, “Also, you didn’t have to come with me.”

You and Minkyung met up for brunch earlier that day. It was Friday, a week after everyone met up, the day Jaehyun leaves for Hong Kong, and the day before you were scheduled to go check out the possible wedding venues with her, Yebin, and your moms. When you mentioned you had to run an errand for work, she invited herself with you.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Not after what you and Jaehyun told us last week, as if I’d let you be alone in public places. I’ll be with you as long as I can.”

“I have bodyguards, Min.” You peer out the large window to see two men outside, dressed in casual clothes, but had ear pieces and shades on. You met the pair first thing on Monday morning and learned they were cousins. Hyunwoo was older than you by five years while Jooheon was older by two years. They were big and intimidating upon first impression, but they spoke softly and humbly towards you whenever you talked to them. They initially wore suits as their uniform, but after they accompanied you to visit Kyungwon at your old office and accumulated pointed stares, you asked for them to wear casual clothes instead and wait outside or in the car. They drove you around, opened doors for you, and either one would always survey the area before you even arrived. It felt a little too excessive, but in the end all of this was for your safety and Jaehyun’s peace of mind.

Minkyung follows your gaze and pouts, “Well, they’re outside as per your request, but who knows what could happen in here with you.”

“Hyunwoo already checked the place out before we arrived, otherwise Jooheon wouldn’t have let us step foot in here.” You returned your attention to the task at hand; choosing some indoor plants for Yuta’s apartment. Personally, you wanted the peace lilies, but the yellow streaks of the snake plant complemented Yuta’s apartment as a whole. You also had to choose the perfect pot to go with it. “I think it’s too tacky to go with a yellow pot, even if it’s muted. Which is better, black or white?”

“See? You would be standing here all day if I didn’t come with you.” Minkyung rolls her eyes, “I like the white one!”

“If I were to design your new apartment, I’d fill it with plants and call it a day.” You joked, calling for one of the sales attendants.

“And you know what? I wouldn’t be mad about it.” She picked up a small succulent in a lightbulb shaped glass container, “You should try gardening in your new house, [Y/N]! It could be your pregnancy hobby.”

“My what?”

“Like, the hobby you pick up because you’re pregnant. Some people try knitting, some paint, you can try gardening!”

You don’t get to answer back as the sales attendant you flagged down finally came to you and you pointed out which plants you wanted to buy. After it’s settled you and Minkyung follow her to the counter where you fill up some forms to have it delivered to Yuta’s apartment when it’s ready. When you finish, you look back at Minkyung who still had the succulent in her hands, “Are you going to buy that?”

“Yes!” She grins, “I’ve already named it as well!”

“You… name your plants?”

“This is Cadbury.”

“...after chocolates?”

She sighs, “If it dies, then I’ll never eat that brand ever again.”

You stare at her for a good minute, trying to figure out if she was joking or not as she steps forward to the cashier and asks for the succulent to be wrapped. “Have you lost one yet?”

While she fishes out her card from her purse, she offers you a sad pout, “Nutella.”

“Miss [L/N] [Y/N]?” You turn your head to a polite voice over the counter and return the smile, “Hello ma’am! We received an order for flowers to be picked up by you today.”

“Aw!” Minkyung coos, “Jaehyun got you flowers?”

“I…” You paused, releasing a sigh instead and looked back at the sales attendant, “Okay, then, thank you.”

The lady excuses herself to retrieve the flowers at the back of the store and Minkyung leans her head on yours.

“Oh, [Y/N], I wish I’d find someone as sweet as Jaehyun. Did he know you were going here today?”

“Yeah, I texted him before we went here. It’s just weird though, he’ll usually pick it up himself and surprise me back home.”

“Maybe he’s too busy? His flight is tonight, right?” Just then, her eyes practically sparkled as an idea popped in her head, “Let me and Yebs sleepover! I’ll come once he’s gone and it’ll be more efficient for us the next day since we’re leaving before lunch.”

“Sure, I’ll ask Yebin right now.” You take out your phone just as the lady returns with a small, brown clay pot with reddish flowers. It wasn’t what you were expecting; he usually gave you roses or peonies, occasionally sunflowers, in bouquets, but never potted plants. Nonetheless, it’s still from Jaehyun and you readily accept it from the lady. “Oh, thank you. What are these?”

“Begonias, ma’am. If I may, it’s quite peculiar your partner would give you these flowers.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, ma’am, they symbolize caution.”

“Caution?” You and Minkyung said in unison.

The lady waves her hands, “But don’t take it too literally, ma’am. Since they are from your partner, it could mean gratitude and giving thanks.”

Jaehyun is romantic, but you don’t think he’s sensible enough to search up flowers and their symbolisms before giving them to you. With the current situation of him leaving, it could mean he just wants you to be careful and be alert while he’s gone.

After checking out the plants for Yuta’s apartment and Minkyung’s little succulent, you tucked the flower pot in your arms and made your way outside where Jooheon opened the door for the two of you. You dropped Minkyung off at her apartment and Hyunwoo drove you back to yours, where you set the flowers on the living room table and proceeded to pack your weekend bag and Jaehyun’s weekend luggage.

Jaehyun came home earlier than usual as he had a flight at 9PM and you greeted him at the hallway opening with a kiss.

“Minkyung and Yebin are coming over after you leave. They’ll sleepover as well so we don’t have to wait for each other tomorrow morning when we have to leave.” You informed him, watching him loosen his tie. “Are you hungry? I was about to make dinner.”

“I’m starving.” He sheepishly admits, prompting you to glare at him since it meant he had skipped lunch once more. “Work is piling up, baby.”

“That’s not an excuse.” You reprimanded, tiptoeing to kiss him once more, “But I understand. I’ll go get dinner ready. Go freshen up for your flight.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chases after your lips for a longer kiss before pulling away.

As you moved around him to get to the kitchen, you quickly spun on your heels to face him again, “Oh, and thank you for the flowers. The lady said it was an odd choice.”

You gesture to the begonias on the coffee table and Jaehyun stops untying his tie.

“Oh.” He says after a pregnant pause, “Are they?”

“Yeah and I get it, you want me to be careful. Don’t worry, I will be.”

“Is that what they meant?” He stares at the flowers and moves his attention back to you as you nodded, “They must have mixed up my order then… I’ll replace them.”

“No, you don’t have to. They’re pretty, don’t you think? You don’t have to replace them, besides, the lady said they could also mean gratitude.”

He licks his lips in contemplation, “Alright then.”

You smile at him, giving him another kiss, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Jaehyun whispers back, watching you disappear into the kitchen.

He moves towards the coffee table, scrutinizing the potted red flowers under an intense glare. He wants to cancel his flight and stay with you; but this meeting had the whole Jung’s reputation on the line. There’s a horrible sick feeling in his gut and he could practically feel the familiar rush of anger in his veins. He would never give you flowers with such meanings — no, that’s not the problem — he never even ordered flowers for you today to begin with.

a/n: yay new update 🎉 i’m aiming to update with part 10 in a week or two, meaning the old schedule of uploading on Fridays will be back (hopefully) 🤞🏻 please let me know what you think of this chapter here 🥰

next: part 10

~ buy me a peach? but why?

#nct smut #jaehyun smut #nct scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #devoted au

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emy-loves-you · 4 years

Text

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 4

Sad Boys and Fun Facts

Patton’s a sad boi but Virgil has a distraction

Chapter 3 | Masterlist | Chapter 5

Three weeks had passed since Virgil had first texted Roman. In those three weeks, Virgil had learned a lot about his new friends.

First, there was Patton. God, did that man love puns. Virgil also loved puns, but he preferred reading Patton’s puns over making his own. Remus had caught Virgil blushing at his phone and made a comment about his new “friends with benefits” (Virgil had been unable to respond. He was too busy trying to hold back his giggles from one of Patton’s pun tangents). Patton also made it clear that he was the “Dad Friend” of the group. Virgil couldn’t type a single self-deprecating comment without Patton threatening to physically fight him. It was rather terrifying, really. He also made sure that everyone was taking care of themselves. Once they learned that they were in the same timezone (They hadn’t shared cities yet. Friend or no, Virgil was telling where he lived in that quickly) Patton made it his goal to check in and make sure that Virgil ate at mealtime. One last thing about Patton was his… struggle with technology. He tended to send almost everything directly to the group chat instead of private messages. Logan said that he tried to teach Patton how to do so, but the lessons never seemed to stick.

Speaking of Logan, the nerd had his own quirks. He didn’t type much, usually only responding when someone required everyone to respond. The other time that he typed was during debates. Nine days into their friendship, Virgil had mentioned saying “you too” to a cute barista and claimed that he ruined any chances with his new crush. While Patton and Roman offered words of encouragement, Logan remained silent. Virgil had assumed that Logan agreed with him but didn’t want to upset his boyfriends. As soon as their conversation ended, Virgil received a private text from Logan, requesting to debate. They argued over cognitive distortions for a whole hour before they reached a compromise. Logan had called the debate “lit” and asked if they could debate again in the future. That was another thing about Logan. Apparently, he had vocabulary cards for slang words. When he was talking out loud, he would hold the card up so the others knew what slang word he was attempting to use. When texting, he would put quotation marks around the word. It was adorable, in Virgil’s humble opinion.

Then there was Roman. Princey was known for his dramatic flair and Disney references. When he was feeling especially Extra™ , he would use “thees” and “thys” and call people peasants. He also had a love for nicknames. Patton had very few personal nicknames, with most of them being terms of endearment like “honey” and “amor.” Most of Logan’s nicknames pertained to him being a nerd, such as “pocket protector” and “Microsoft Nerd.” He seemed to have a limitless number of nicknames for Virgil, with most of them referencing his emo-aesthetic (how Princey had discovered that so early in their friendship, Virgil had no clue). He never repeated Virgil’s nicknames; the only exception was “storm cloud,” which he tended to use at least once every conversation.

Virgil had become extremely close with the trio over these three weeks. That wasn’t the only thing he did, just the thing he did most often. The Dark Sides had finalized their contract with Thomas, who set up a tour almost immediately. Virgil really should have seen that coming. Their band had become extremely popular over the past few years, and they had only done one tour before this. Performing across the country would help boost their popularity even further. Virgil sighed, his anxiety spiking at just the thought of seeing all those faces in the crowd. That was why he used the persona Anxiety. Anxiety wasn’t afraid of anything, he was fear. Being Anxiety allowed Virgil to be confident and suave without worrying about judgment. They judged Anxiety, not Virgil. The case was similar for Janus and Remus. Deceit was elegant and mysterious, while Duke was loud and over-the-top. They didn’t have to be rejects wanting to fit in with society. No, they were Rockstars. Society wanted to fit in with them. And Virgil was just fine with that.

Bzzz

Vigil glanced over at his phone. He was in Los Angelas right now, around halfway through his tour, which put him 3 hours behind his new friends. He glanced over at his clock, 9:45 PM glaring at him through the dark. He turned back to his phone. Why are they up at 12:45 in the morning? I know Logan keeps them on a rigid sleep schedule.

P- (9:45 PM) Ro? Are you still up?

V- (9:45 PM) Pat, why are you still up?

P- (9:45 PM) Why are you still up, kiddo? It’s almost 1 AM! Don’t you have a hangout with your friends today?

Virgil sighed, thinking of the concert he had tomorrow. He glanced over to his sketchbook. Patton had been really impressed with his sketches, so he had been practicing less gory drawings to show him. It had evolved into something almost therapeutic. Knowing how he worked, Virgil would probably sketch until around 2 in the morning, then sleep until 8 AM. The concert wasn’t until 7 PM, so he had enough time to sleep in if necessary.

V- (9:46 PM) First of all, you know I’m in California right now. It’s 9:46 for me. Second of all, we’re not hanging out until tomorrow night, so I can sleep in if needed. Third of all, you’re avoiding the question: What are you and Roman doing up at 1 in the morning? I thought you guys had work in the morning.

P- (9:47 PM) We do. Roman got a burst of inspiration at around 10, and he usually refuses to sleep until he writes it all down. He probably fell asleep at his desk, that silly billy!

V- (9:47 PM) That doesn’t explain why you’re still awake. And why didn’t you get up to check on him? I thought you guys lived together.

P- (9:47 PM) We do! I just couldn’t fall asleep tonight. And the bed’s too warm to get up!

V- (9:48 PM) Well, Princey’s probably being a “sleeping beauty”

Virgil frowned at his phone. Patton hadn’t responded to his text. Sure, that wasn’t a very good pun, but it was still a pun. Patton laughed at every pun he saw, or at least followed it up with another pun. He could be asleep, but didn’t he just say that he had trouble sleeping?

V- (9:50 PM) Pat?

P- (9:50 PM) Yeah, Kiddo?

V- (9:50 PM) Are you okay?

V- (9:52 PM) Patton?

V- (9:52 PM) I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Just because you didn’t answer my pun doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong with you. I’m sorry that I sounded like an asshole.

P- (9:52 PM) No, Sweety. It’s fine! It’s nice to know that someone cares about you!

P- (9:53 PM) I’m just a little sad today.

V- (9:53 PM) Do you wanna talk about it?

P- (9:54 PM) I’m fine, Kiddo! This just happens sometimes. No need to worry!

Virgil sighed, thinking about how much Patton reminded him of Janus. Janus grew up neglected, and was taught to convince everyone that his life was perfect. By the time Virgil had met him, Janus was 19 and a compulsive liar. Virgil wasn’t much better, having just gotten kicked out of the foster system. Virgil lived with Janus (and soon Remus) until The Dark Sides had enough income for Virgil to live on his own (technically Janus had more than enough money for that- his parents were loaded. But Virgil wanted to have something that he earned. He wasn’t just some charity case). When they first lived together, Virgil could never tell what Janus was actually thinking. It took a lot of time and trust to separate Janus from Deceit. Now, he was still heavily sarcastic, and he tended to close himself off when he got upset, but Janus had come a long way.

Virgil looked back to his phone. Patton didn’t seem to have it as bad as Janus did, but you could never tell. At least he acknowledged that he wasn’t okay. There is the chance that something really is bothering him, but Virgil had to trust Patton on that note. It is entirely possible that Patton is just feeling down today; God knows how many times Virgil would question why he should get out of bed. He bit his lip. What helps me when I feel sad for no reason? He smiled, remembering when Remus would spout the most obscene things to distract himself from his own negative thinking. A distraction.

V- (9:56 PM) Did you know that giraffes can clean their ears with their own tongues?

P- (9:56 PM) What?

V- (9:56 PM) “Rhythm” is the longest word in the English language that doesn’t have a vowel.

V- (9:56 PM) Elephants are the only mammals that cannot jump.

P- (9:57 PM) More like Elecan’t!

V- (9:57 PM) Haha :)

V- (9:57 PM) Without food coloring, Coca Cola would be green.

V- (9:57 PM) A 3-year-old boy was elected as mayor in Dorset, Minnesota

P- (9:58 PM) No way!

V- (9:58 PM) Yes way! His name was James Tufts.

V- (9:58 PM) 7 different dogs have been elected as mayors in the US.

P- (9:58 PM) I love dogs! They’re such good boys!

Virgil smiled, adding Loves Dogs to his mental list of Quirky things I like about Patton Morale. They continued to talk about dog mayors for a while until Patton ended it abruptly.

P- (10:14 PM) Why are you doing this?

V- (10:14 PM) Doing what?

P- (10:15 PM) Why are you going out of your way to try and cheer me up? You should’ve stopped talking to me 20 minutes ago. Instead, we’re laying here at 1 AM talking about dog mayors! I would have been fine on my own. Why are you wasting your time on me?

V- (10:16 PM) Pat, if you tell me that I’m wasting my time talking to you, I’m going to have to physically fight you. You are my FRIEND. I care about you. When you’re sad, I WANT to cheer you up. When you’re happy, I WANT to laugh along to your punny jokes. Because I know, at the end of the day, if I was sad and needed someone to cheer me up, you would do it in a heartbeat. You, Lo, and Princey are amazing people, and my time spent with you will NEVER be a waste. I swear.

Virgil sighed, dropping his phone on the bed. He might’ve been too forward with that last text. But it was true. While the four of them weren’t nearly as close as Virgil was with Janus and Remus, he still cared about them a lot.

P- (10:18 PM) Thanks, Virgil. That really means a lot to me

P- (10:18 PM) I’m gonna try and get some sleep now

V- (10:18 PM) Alright Patton, Goodnight

P- (10:18 PM) Goodnight

The next day, Virgil saw a postcard in the window of a gift shop. It had a puppy with sunglasses on the beach, with cartoonish letters saying “Having A WonderFUR Time!” He took a picture and sent it to Princey.

V- (1:08 PM) What’s your address or PO? I wanna send this to Patton.

R- (1:09 PM) Say no more, Hot Topic!

V- (1:09 PM) Aw, you think I’m hot.

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus

#sanders sides fic #useless gays #LAMP fic #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #texting fic

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snowdice · 4 years

Text

Goblin Brain Study Session Fic 1 [Day 54]

Because I don’t want to just have walls of text for my Goblin Brain Study Session posts, I’m separating them by days. If you want to read the previous chapters, click the links below. Chapter 21 and what’s done of chapter 22 is under the cut.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 My Master Post

See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. Also, if you’re interesting, don’t forget that I am constantly updating the timeline as I write. :)

I have a zoom meeting in about an hour. Not sure if it will take long because it’s just supposed to be an organization meeting, but the time slot is for 2 hours. So... I’m not sure if there will be a random 2 hour break in this or not... But, anyway, time for Janus to murder his Virgil’s dad.

Chapter 21

Emile’s car, of course, did not have a built-in button that would let him into the bases outer gates like Remy’s would have. Instead, Remy had to get out of the car and put his face in front of the security camera. He waved and someone must have seen and recognized him because the gate swung open to let them through.

Remy climbed back into the car and Emile drove up towards what appeared to be an abandoned factory.

“Since you’re not an agent they’ll want us to go inside the shell building instead of down to the parking garage for security,” Remy told him.

Emile had never actually been to the base. He usually met with Logan at another location or sometimes Emile’s office and he met any patients in his office as well. Thus, he had absolutely no idea what parking garage he was talking about or where on Earth it could be, but he could figure out where Remy must want him to go because there was only one building in sight.

He drove down the driveway towards what looked like the main entrance.

“Weird,” Remy said as Emile pulled up in front of it. “There’s another car here.” They exchanged a glance.

Remy mumbled something that sounded like “damned kid,” under his breath. Then they were both scrambling to get out of the car the next moment. Remy went ahead of Emile because he knew more about this place and also Emile would not be able to stop him.

The door had been left slightly ajar and Emile could hear voices as they approached.

Emile heard Virgil’s voice (and thank god Remy was right about where he’d been going) say “you know my dad?”

An unfamiliar voice responded with a shocked. “Remy’s dead?” which was right when Remy made it to the door.

Without missing a beat, Remy threw open the door and said, “Quit telling everyone I’m dead!” Now Emile loved a good animated movie reference usually, but today he couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

There were a few seconds of silence before the one figure he didn’t recognize finished the quote by saying, “Sometimes I can still hear his voice.”

“Dad?” Virgil asked sounding all types of vulnerable and confused.

“Kid,” Remy said, “you are the bane of my existence. I’m dead for 5 minutes and you skip town?”

Emile watched Virgil’s face as he quickly adjusted to the fact that his father was not in fact dead, but simply an emotionally constipated idiot with a flair for dramatics. He narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah, and where have you been, old man?”

“Running after you once the wrist tracker said you’d booked it 50 miles away by the time I knew you were missing! Which then stopped tracking.”

“Yeah, well I threw it out a window because I thought you were dead and I’m not stupid.”

“Well your lack of stupidity has made my life a living hell for the past few hours.”

“Right back at you not-dead dad.”

Remy snorted a bit. “Come here pipsqueak. Your old man deserves a hug after you nearly gave him a heart attack.” Virgil still looked a bit sullen but went in for the hug anyway.

Virgil caught sight of Emile over Remy’s shoulder and drew back from the hug. “Uncle Emile,” he said, sounding relieved. “I tried to call you.”

Emile turned to glare at Remy.

“Oof,” Remy said. “Yeah, that one may have been my bad too.”

“I,” Logan interjected. By the look on his face, Emile could tell that his willingness to let Remy and Virgil have a moment was wearing thin, “also tried to call him.”

Remy just shrugged. “Yeah, well, boss, someone drilled it into my head not to give out secret critical information on unsecured lines and I am definitely critical.”

Logan gave him an unimpressed look and Remy shrugged and winked at him after a moment. He dug the flash drive he’d stolen out of his pocket and tossed it at Logan. “Oh, and also this.”

Logan caught it and raised an eyebrow at it. “What is this?”

“Enough information to want to kill me for it,” he paused. “Of course, that’s not a high bar considering she tried to kill me before I stole it.”

Logan put the flash drive in his chest pocket. “I’ll decide if I’m going to kill you after I look at what’s on this.”

“Fair enough,” Remy agreed.

“So, you’re a secret agent?” Virgil asked.

“Yep,” Remy confirmed. Virgil looked over at Emile.

“Don’t look at me,” Emile said. “I’m just a run of the mill psychiatrist.”

“Who gives therapy to secret agents,” Remy pointed out.

“Even secret agents need therapy sometimes,” Emile said, “and I already knew about the organization.”

Virgil turned back to his dad. “I’m mad at you,” he said.

“Ah,” Remy said. “Yeah…”

“Teach me to shoot a gun, and I’ll forgive you.”

“NO,” both Emile and the man he didn’t know said at one.

“Trust me,” the other man continued. “He doesn’t need to learn how to use a gun. He does just fine with a knife.”

Remy considered Virgil suspiciously for a few seconds. “What did you do, you little shit?”

“Remy,” the other man chastised.

“He’s heard a lot worse,” Remy waved him off. The other man frowned at him, but Remy just turned back to Virgil. “Now, what did you do?”

“I needed a ride,” said Virgil.

“What about a knife?”

“The knife… helped me get a ride.”

“Did you kidnap Patton at knife point?” Remy asked. Virgil just shrugged. “Kid!”

“And you allowed that to happen?” Logan asked, Emile presumed, Patton.

“He wasn’t exactly scary,” Patton said.

Virgil looked almost affronted. “I was terrifying!”

“Sure, you were kiddo,” Patton said. Virgil pouted at him.

“From what I understand, he also incapacitated one of Nelson’s men with pepper spray,” Logan interjected. He eyed Virgil. “We should have a conversation at some point in the future.”

“Logan,” Patton chided. “He’s 15.”

“I’m aware of his age,” Logan said.

Virgil looked at him. “Would you teach me how to use a gun?”

“Hey, if anyone is going to teach my child how to use a gun, it’s me,” Remy insisted.

“No one is teaching him how to use a gun,” Emile said. “He doesn’t even have his driver’s license yet.”

“If I agree to take drivers ed… then I can get a gun?” Virgil asked.

“Maybe,” Remy said.

“No!” Emile exclaimed.

“Okay, but Janus is not allowed to teach me to drive. He’s the one who told me the gas pedal was the break on that golf cart. I don’t want to crash another vehicle into a body of water.”

“Wow,” a new voice said from the door. Emile looked over to see a group of damp people walk into the building. Emile did not recognize four of them, but he did recognize the fifth. The speaker turned to Janus. “You must be cursed.”

A woman in the group turned to Logan. “We found your kids,” she said.

Chapter 22

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Janus did not respond to Roman’s quip about the car. Instead, he shoved past Roman the second he heard the boy’s voice. Roman recognized the kid immediately from the pictures he’d been sent along with his mission directives.

“Virgil,” Janus said, crossing the room to get to his little brother without regard to anything else. “Thank god. Are you alright?” He grabbed his face and titled it as though to look for injuries. Nothing about what Roman had learned about Janus in the past few hours would have prepared him for the way he descended directly into mother-hen mode, cupping the boy’s face with delicate fingers.

He was even less prepared for when Virgil shoved his hands away with an eye roll and a “I’m fine, Janus,” and Janus immediately started to cry.

Janus pulled Virgil into a hug, and Roman winced in sympathy for Janus’s injured ribs when the kid hugged him back tightly. They should really get that checked out as soon as the two of them had their moment. “I’ve been worried sick about you,” he said, voice all types of wrecked. The past few hours of worry that Janus had kept careful hold of lashed out suddenly, and it was even more than Roman had anticipated. “I showed up to the house, and you were gone, and the window was broken.” Virgil was getting a bit wobbly lipped himself, and Roman couldn’t exactly blame him with how gutted Janus sounded. “Where did you go? How did you get here? How did you know to come here? Did Logan send someone else after you?”

“Dad let the name slip,” Virgil explained, “and Mom sent someone to pick me up, but I’d already accidently heard that she’d killed him with the radio Dad keeps in his room. So, I really didn’t want to go with the man, and he was mean especially when I said no.” His voice cracked a bit as he spoke and he too started crying. “I didn’t know where to go or what to do. At first, I just wanted to get out of the city so Mom couldn’t find me. Once I was out, I decided to try to get here because dad said he worked with the owner, and no one was answering their phones.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Janus said. “That was my fault. I broke my phone. I should have thought about you wanting to call me.” He pulled back to kiss Virgil ever so gently on the forehead.

“Hey, what gives,” another man said, and Roman blinked because that was Remy Gates and Remy was definitely supposed to be dead. “I was dead, and I didn’t even get that much of a heartfelt reunion.” Janus seemed to freeze for a moment and then turned to him.

#study break stories #janus sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #creativitwins #patton sanders #virgil sanders #platonic moxiety #emile picani #remy sanders #logan sanders #kidnapping #murder mentioned #guns #car crash

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basicsofislam · 4 years

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ISLAM 101: Muslim Culture and Character: Morals And Manners: The Ethics of Decent Behavior in Islam (Adab-i Muasharat in Islam)

Before examining the ethics of decent behavior (adab al-muasharat) in depth, the concepts of adab and muasharat first should be examined separately.

THE WORD ADAB

The Arabic root “adb” means “feast or invitation”7; the word “adab,” which is derived from this root, carries the meanings of “decency,” “politeness,” “reverence,” and “high regard,”8 as well as “refined manners that have been socially adopted.”9

Adab, then, refers to all guidelines about words and deeds that are considered proper, mannerly, ethical, and morally correct in Islam. In this respect,adab indicates the minimum level of good or moral behavior that people should follow. In his book Al-Tarifat Sayyid Sharif writes that adab “is the knowledge that saves one from erring.” Ibn Hajar said that “Adab is to say and do that which is commendable and of merit; that is, to possess good moral character. In the same way that there are people who interpret adab as meaning ‘acting in good and appropriate ways,’ or ‘acting respectfully towards elders and treating the young with kindness and compassion’ there are also scholars who believe the word originated from madaba, a word that means banquet.’”10

There is no direct reference to the word adab or its derivatives in the Qur’an. However, the related word da’b, which means way, path, manner, orcustom, is used, for instance in the verse, “(Their way is) as the way of Pharaoh’s folk and those before them” (Anfal 8:54). Similarly, daab, which appears in the verse, “You shall sow for seven years as usual,” (Yusuf 12:47) means as usual. In yet another verse, the related word daibayn is used to mean constant: “And He has made the sun and the moon constant in their courses…” (Ibrahim 14:33). However, the word adab does appear in Prophetic traditions. In the hadith, “My Lord trained me and gave me adab and He gave me the best training,”11 adab is used to mean training or education.

When Junayd al-Baghdadi set out on his pilgrimage, he saw that the disciples of Abu Hafs in Baghdad were extremely mannerly and polite. He said to the scholar, “You have taught your followers adab that is befitting of courtiers.” Abu Hafs replied, “No, their inner adab is reflected in their outward actions,” implying that their behavior arose from their heart.12 This is striking, as it underlines the importance of maintaining good social relationships with everyone. In fact, some have said that adab is an outward sign that reveals the greatness of a person’s character. It is for this reason that one of the most important responsibilities of parents is to give their children adab and moral training. Adab is like a garment for the soul, or the inner strength of the spirit that saves one from erring or doing inappropriate things.

The term adab in Islamic jurisprudence refers to “behavior befitting the example of Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him.” Accordingly, the term adab implies “avoidance of anything that is contrary to the Sunna or the practice of the Prophet.” In a broader sense, adab is to act in accordance with the commands and admonitions of God and His Messenger. Religiously, adab falls into the category of sunna ghayr mu’akkada, that is, actions which the Prophet performed at times; therefore, the execution of such actions is to be rewarded, but the abandonment of them is not reproachable. Adab is also used interchangeably for recommended (mustahab) acts, supererogatory acts, or virtuous acts. Acts that are defined as part of adab are divinely rewarded, praiseworthy manners that were recommended and encouraged by the Prophet.

The best adab, the best morals, those which will never become outdated, are those taught in the Qur’an and applied in the life of Prophet Muhammad, the Best of Creation. God, Who created the universe in the most perfect order and the human “of the best stature as the perfect pattern of creation” (Tin 95:4), has created humankind to act as His vicegerents on earth. He has given humankind superiority over all other creatures and made them His representatives on earth. Through His Messengers God has shown humankind the path to felicity, and, by making His commandments known to us, He has taught us to discern good from bad and right from wrong. God has created all things perfectly, and has instructed humanity in the ways of goodness that we should follow. This is why the adab and morality which God taught us will always be the best and most correct. The person who has lived these morals the best is Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him. In a Qur’anic verse God says of the Prophet, “You are surely of asublime character and do act by a sublime pattern of conduct” (68:4). God’s Messenger said of himself “I was sent to perfect good character.”13 He exhorted his community to apply the morality and ethics in the Qur’an which he put into practice.

As with everything, our example in good morals is Prophet Muhammad, the Best of Creation: “Assuredly you have in God’s Messenger an excellentexample to follow for whoever looks forward to God and the Last Day, and remembers and mentions God much” (Ahzab 33:21). God’s Messenger called on us to pursue morality, and he said, “Two qualities are never coupled in a believer: Stinginess and corrupt morality.”14 Another time, he said to Muadh ibn Jabal, “O Muadh, be of good morals toward people!”15

The Messenger of God taught that good morality will weigh heaviest in the scales for a believer on the Day of Judgment; those with an evil disposition will be condemned. He also told another Companion that people with good morality would be dealt with (rewarded) as if they had worshipped and fasted constantly.16

When Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, was performing salat, after saying the opening takbir he would sometimes recite the prayer that has the following meaning: “My prayer, my worship, my living and my dying are for God, the Lord of the worlds. No associate has He, I have thus been commanded. And I am the first and foremost of those who submit to Him. O God, guide me to the best deeds and the best morality. There is none other than You who can lead me to the best. Save me from evil deeds and conduct; there is none other than You who can save us from immorality.”17

When the Prophet was asked what it was that caused most people to be sent to Hell, he replied, “The mouth and the genitals.” When they asked him what brought most people to Heaven, he said, “Taqwa (God-consciousness and fear of God) and good morals!”18

Here it may be helpful to go into detail about the term taqwa.

Generally, this word is used in one of two ways:

The first broad meaning is “to beware of and avoid everything which is harmful for the eternal life of one’s soul,” or, more importantly, “to eschew associating partners to God, which is the cause of spending eternity in Hell.” The highest point of taqwa is to keep oneself pure of anything that could put a distance between one’s soul and God, to turn to God with one’s entire being, and to take refuge in God with one’s whole spirit. A Qur’anic verse indicates this state: “O you who have attained faith! Be conscious of God with all the consciousness that is due to Him…” (Al Imran 3:102).

The second specific meaning is absolutely and unequivocally “to guard oneself against any sin which may be cause for the abandonment of good deeds or which may lead one away from salvation.” The verse, “Those who avoid the major sins and indecent, shameful deeds, only falling into small fault,—surely your Lord is of extensive forgiveness” (Najm 53:32), focuses on this meaning of taqwa—that is the avoidance of major sins.

Raghib al-Isfahani says, “Taqwa is to keep one’s soul from sin; this is begun by avoiding that which is forbidden, and completed by avoiding that which is questionable. According to the hadith, ‘The permissible is clear, and the forbidden is clear, but there are questionable things in between.’”19

Here we must briefly touch upon the subject of “small sins.” The aforementioned verse of Sura Najm does not mean that believers can be lax about “small sins.” Said ibn Jubayr reportedly said, “When the following Qur’anic verse was revealed: ‘They give

to the poor, orphans and slaves solely for God’s pleasure, even when they

themselves are in need’ (Insan 76:8), some Muslims thought that because they had given only a little they would not be rewarded; others thought, ‘God will reserve Hellfire for great sins,’ and they did not think that they would be punished for smaller sins, like lying, looking at forbidden things, or gossiping. For this reason, God sent down another verse, ‘And so, he who shall have done an at-

om’s weight of good, shall behold it; and he who shall have done an at-

om’s weight of evil, shall behold it’ (Zilzal 99:7–8). Through these verses God taught Muslims that ‘A little will soon bring more,’ thus encouraging them to give without thinking that small offerings do not count; on the other hand, they were given the idea that ‘small sins soon increase and lead to greater sins,’ thus helping them to avoid all sins.”20

According to Islamic teachings, a small sin can be as serious as a large one if the following errors occur:

Persistence in small sins.

Considering small sins lightly, attaching no importance to them.

Making oneself feel better about small sins by comparing them to bigger ones.

Boasting of one’s past sins in front of other people.

The commitment of small sins by a knowledgeable person who is acting as a guide for others; these must be counted as serious sins.

What should be kept in mind is that whatever God has forbidden should not be approached, refuge from both small and great sins should be sought in God, whatever is given as a sin in the Qur’an should be accepted as a sin, and if one commits a sin, it should not be persisted in. Indeed, Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, said, “When we repent and regret a ‘great sin,’ it is no longer ‘great,’ but when we persist in a ‘small sin’ it does not remain ‘small.’”21

To return to our main topic, let us examine the following hadith of the Prophet: “A believer who has good morals may surpass one who spends nights in prayer and days in fasting.”22 He also informed Abu Hurayra, in response to a question, that one may enter Heaven with fear of God and the possession of good morals. More than once the Prophet said that a person of good morals will be rewarded with a home in the upper levels of Heaven; such a person will be the closest to the Prophets on the Day of Resurrection and he will be the most loved by them.23

The sayings and personal actions of the Prophet regarding his guidelines for good adab and morals have been classified and collected into books likeThe Book of Adab and Bab al-Adab.24 In addition, Imam al-Bukhari compiled some deeds and sayings of the Prophet in his book Al-Adab al-Mufrad.

Adab means acting with good manners, ethics and morals in all interactions and dealings with people. The behavior that we find in the life of Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, even actions in minor matters, like greeting people, smiling, and keeping nails trimmed, were also part of the lives of other Prophets before him.

The adab and moral code established by the hadiths of the Prophet are applicable to everyone. Therefore, every person who is involved in teaching or training others in adab must first put into practice these commands and prohibitions, then strive to impart the same good ethics to those under their care. God says in the Qur’an, “O you who believe! Guard yourselves and your families

(through the enabling discipline of Islamic faith and worship) against a Fire whose fuel is human beings and stones…” (Talaq 66:6). Here it is meant that God wants us to practice the morality He has prescribed, both by training our spirits and by training the children for whom we have a responsibility. This will at the same time be a protection for us from the fire of Hell.

Everyone has responsibility for those under their care and supervision with regard to their rights, education, and learning. God’s Messenger spoke of the importance of the education of children by their parents thus: “Every child is born in the natural state of innate predisposition for goodness and submission to One God. Afterward, the mother and father teach a child another religion. Indeed, even animal young are born complete (with all they need for life). Have you ever seen among these innocent newborn animals one with a cut-off arm, lip, leg, foot, nose?”25 Abu Hurayra, the transmitter of this hadith, then continued with this verse: “And so, set your face steadfastly toward the (one ever-true) faith, turning away from all that is false, in accordance with the natural disposition which God has instilled into man…” (Rum 30:30).

The verse and hadith above point to the fact that the natural state of the human being is pure and that the best and purest morality one can follow is Islam. But incorrect education can make a child become alienated from their inborn natural purity and grow into a disbeliever or someone with bad morals. This is why the enironment and parental influence on children is emphasized so strongly.26 God creates each individual with purity, and the mother and father of each child have the duty to bring out and preserve that nature by teaching adab. The best and most lasting gift parents can give their children is a good moral training. A child who receives this training and grows to be a good person will also become a source of continual reward for the parents; even after they are dead and can no longer perform good deeds, the child’s good deeds will be reflected on them and be recorded in their Book of Deeds by God.

THE WORD MUASHARAT (SOCIAL ETIQUETTE)

The word muasharat has several meanings: to mix or become involved, to be a friend, to live together.27 The religion of Islam puts great importance on positive social relations between human beings—spending time together and talking to one another—and their shared community. After this brief introduction to the adab al-muasharat (ethics of decent behavior in Islam) we will examine good character traits in the light of Qur’anic verses and hadith.

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