#(i called in sick a couple of times in the past too because guess what? i *am*! always! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i-cant-sing · 2 months

Text

TIME TRAVELER AU PT 2

Original post/idea here. Part 1 is here. Part 3 is here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

I fucked up.

You thought as you sat on the bed, holding your head in your hands.

I fucked up so baaaaaad.

Not only have you healed Baldwin of his leprosy, forever changing history of the LEPER KING, but also managed to somehow be his bride. To make matters EVEN worse, you cant just up and leave right now because you dont know the disastrous effects it'll have on the future now that Baldwin wont die of leprosy, which means that the kingdom of Jerusalem wont fall to Salauddin and his muslim army and after that its just a domino effect.

You tried to view your options here.

I stay here, marry Baldwin and fuck up the fabric of time and space because how can someone from the future marry someone from the past? Wouldnt I cease to exist?

I leave, return to my time where authorities arrest me for fucking around with time- that is, if I even exist in the future now that I've altered history. Who knows if my ancestors survived/were born after this?

No. Neither option is good. I need to stay here and fix this. But in a way that i dont draw too much attention to myself so that im so insignificant that nobody remembers, let alone writes about me in the history books.

You were drawn out of your thoughts with someone knocking on your door. "Come in." You said, straightening yourself.

A couple of servants walked in, all women. "Princess Y/n." They all courtesied. "We've been sent here by his majesty to prepare you for dinner with him."

Princess? Ah yes. Only a couple of hours ago, Baldwin had proposed to you, I guess the concept of asking wasnt a thing here as he just slipped on the big beautiful ring on your finger.

You narrowed your eyes at them. "First of all, Im not a princess. You will address me as Y/n only. And secondly, Im not going to join him for dinner, so there's no need to prepare me" The maids all shared a look of confusion before the head servant spoke.

"But we cant address you as anything else until you wed the king, after which you will be our queen, princess."

"Didnt I just tell you not to call me princess? Just call me Y/n!" The head maid shook her head. "Princess, we can not do that. If we do, then we would be punished. And we must prepare you for dinner with his majesty!" The maids moved ahead to start helping you but you raised a hand, halting them.

"I said, no." You said sternly.

"What... what will we tell the king, princess? He's expecting you-"

"Tell him i cant come because Im sic- no, Im not feeling well and Id like to be alone." You cant say "sick" in this era, because that means "death sentence" here and you dont want to be fretted over and bring attention to yourself as "the king's fiancee got SICK!". Besides, you do need to be away from Baldwin as much as possible and have some time to plot your moves.

You had pulled out your notebook and began writing out dates and historic events of this era to plan your escape. You're trying to find some sort of shortcut where Baldwin gets sick again and dies, leaving his kingdom in the hands of his sister and brother in law, who will bring its downfall-

Someone knocked on your door gently. "Princess?" You quickly hid your notebook. "Come in."

Baldwin walked inside and towards you, eyes worried as they scanned you up and down.

"I heard you're not feeling well?" He asked and before you had a chance to back away, he had cupped your cheeks in his hands tenderly. "What's wrong? Shall I fetch the royal physician?"

"No." You replied with your face smushed in his hands. "I'm fine." You pulled your face away his large hands.

Confusion spread through his blue orbs. "Then why did you not join me for dinner?" He asked, using a hand to push your hair over your ear, not taking the hint that you didn't want him touching you.

"I just-" what possible excuse could you come up with that would be both effective and not insulting enough to have your head chopped off. "you- you dont care about me."

Baldwin looked at you in bewilderment. "I dont... care about you? Princess, how can you say that?" He tried to cup your cheek again but you backed away before he could, putting on a face of hurt.

"How can I not? You dont care about what I want, or even ask me what I need?" You feingned pain in your voice, turning away from him for dramatic effect.

He grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards him, his pupils grew wide as if trying to search for what it is that you need. "My love, what do you want? Just say the word, and I'll give it to you."

You looked down, again for the theatrics, and Baldwin lifted your chin. "Go on."

"You never- never asked me to marry you."

"Huh? But I did today-"

"No, you stated it- demanded I marry you." You furrowed your brows and looked down again.

Baldwin smiled. Of course, how could he have not asked you? You were a girl after all, you want to be courted the traditional way. Its not your fault that you dont know that kings do not ask permission for things. They just get it, because who would refuse to marry a king?

He kissed your forehead, lifting your chin again to meet his eyes. "Im sorry, princess. I shouldve asked." He took your hands in his and had that charming smile again. "Will you marry me, Y/n?"

"No." You shook your head. "I... I cant marry you, your majesty." You said, adding tears into your eyes. His brows furrowed in concern.

"What? Why?" You tried pulling your hands away but he didnt let go, tightening his grip ever so slightly.

"I-" well, you could say that youre not catholic and the church would never let you two get married, but you also dont wanna be tortured for being a "heretic". Maybe religious differences could be the last plan. Taking your silence as hesitance, Baldwin spoke. "I can offer you everything and more. Jerusalem would be yours. What is it that I lack that anyone else could offer?"

"I am not a good match for you!" Ah yes, lets do the typical "its not you, its me." You bit your lip as you yanked your hands out of his and walked towards the window, your back to him (theatrics). "You and I are not equals- no we are nowhere close! Youre a king, your father was a king, your family is royalty. I come from nothing, as did my ancestors. There will never be stability in our marriage when we come from such different backgrounds!" You never thought that you would be putting yourself down and call yourself "inferior" to break up with a man.

Silence hung in the air, as you held your breath.

"Youre right." You heard him say behind you. "We are not equals, we never will be." For some reason, instead of being relieved, a chill ran down your spine. Baldwin wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I may be a king, but youre far superior to me. You're an angel, sent to me by God, and you saved me. I wouldnt be king anymore if you werent here, princess."

Warmth spread from your cheeks to the tip of your ears, both due to the close proximity and his words. Sensing your bashfulness, he chuckled, kissing your cheek as he turned you around to face him. You could hear your own heart beat at how close he was.

Baldwin tilted his head, half lidded eyes staring at you. "Youre everything and more that I could ask for, princess. Never put yourself down and compare yourself to me, hm?" He said, giving your arms a gentle squeeze before moving away, but not detaching himself completely as he took ahold of your hand and looked back at you.

"Now that this is settled, let us go eat. I've had the servants prepare a feast for us and then we can discuss wedding arrangements-" shit shit shit shit shit fuck it!

"I'm not catholic!" Baldwin halted at that. You've already said it, might as well dig yourself a deeper hole. You let the tears form in your eyes. "Im... Muslim. I didnt tell you because I didnt want you to think I was working for Salauddin and spying on you for him, you know I wasnt! I really did only want to know about you. Please believe me, I wasnt-"

"I believe you."

What? Just like that.

"You- you believe me?" You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Once again, Im sorry i didnt tell you I was a Muslim, but dont worry, I'll pack my things and leave tonight-"

"Why? We still have to get married."

You blinked slowly. "But... Im Muslim?"

Baldwin shrugged. "So? It doesnt change anything."

You looked at him in bafflement. "It does! It changes everything! We cant get married! Im a Muslim! The church wont allow interfaith marriages, and I dont intend on converting to catholicism either if thats what youre suggesting!"

"I am not suggesting that. You can be a muslim if you want to, but we're still getting married." Baldwin stated matter of factly.

"The church wont allow it-"

"The church will do as I say. I am the head of the church. Besides-" He smiled.

"I dont remember angels having to prove themselves to be a catholic. You saved my life, you cured my incurable disease. As far as the church is concerned, youre a miracle sent to me by God. Youre the Chosen One!"

Is he... is he hearing himself? Can you try to convince him?

"But... but Jerusalem deserves a Catholic Queen-" you tried weakly, but he cupped your cheek and smiled gently at you.

"I am Jerusalem, Y/n. And I deserve you." Was all he said before pecking your forehead.

He tugged you along with him. "Now, we have to eat."

You dont want to eat. You want to stay behind and think of another strategy because clearly you cant talk yourself out of this wedding.

"I'm- I'm not hungry." You said, making him frown.

"How is that possible? You havent had anything since morning. I dont want you getting sick before the wedding." Baldwin continued to pull you along.

Does he not listen?

"I dont want to eat- I- dont feel like it." You said a bit harshly this time, hoping he'd take the hint.

And he did, finally stopping. He sighed and let go of your hand. "Okay. I suppose if you really dont want to, we can skip dinner tonight." Fucking finally. "Its just... I seem to have developed a habit of enjoying meals with you. And now that my leprosy is cured and I have no more diet restrictions, I just- I had the kitchen prepare some of my favourite dishes that I was able to enjoy before my disease disabled me."

You stared at him. Is he- is he trying to guilt trip you? Baldwin once told you that due to leprosy he had ulcers in his mouth, and he couldnt eat different types of food, and was only able to have bland, soft goo.

You looked away from his big sad eyes. He's not getting to you. You need to go back to your room, make yourself scarce, be far away from him as often as possible.

"You can still go and eat dinner alone."

With one hand, he cupped your cheek. "Princess, you know I cant eat until you eat too. But its okay, if you dont want to eat, then I wont too. I guess I'll just have the servants finish the chicken roast and oh-! They even made strawberry cream cake for dessert. But- maybe another day."

You looked into his eyes, those blue orbs that were filled with sadness, resembling a kid who was just told "no candy!"

Sighing, you held his hand. "Maybe I can have a few bites."

His face lit up. Ah, he knew you'd come around. "Lets go!"

The next day, youre helped by the maids to get ready for the day. Apparently, Sibylla wanted to meet you and discuss some things, and you suspect she wants to talk about the wedding preprations.

The maids had prepared your bath and were very insistent on washing you themselves but you made them all leave the bath chambers. Finally, they compromised when you told them that they could dress you up if they wait outside.

Setting your old clothes on the bed, you entered the bathroom and settled into the warm water. The essential oils and flower petals soothed your mind and body, and you finally had some desperately needed silence to hear your own thoughts.

Last night at dinner, Baldwin was very- well, "happy" would be an understatement to how he felt near you. And all those forehead kisses and skin contact doesnt go unnoticed by you either. You suppose that since he had leprosy, he never really had or was allowed to touch anyone else. But now that hes cured, all thanks to your dumb ass, he craves the physical intimacy.

You closed your eyes as you sank deeper into the warm water. Gosh, did I really have to give him the water? Had I not done that, he would still be ridden with lepro-

Your eyes snapped open. Thats it. You just have to make sure he never drank your water in the first place! Yes! You can go back in time and sure, its always dangerous to go back in the same time period more than once, but you really dont have any other option now, do you?

After half an hour, you finally exited the bathroom and the maids practically ushered you to sit in the chair as they finally, FINALLY got to dress up the future queen of Jerusalem and after a whole hour, they're finally done. And... well you look good. Your hair has been done nicely, and a delicate golden headpiece, almost like a elegant hair band sits on top of your head. They added some color to your cheeks and lips with crushed berries. As for your clothes, they dressed you in a dark blue tunic with loose, flowing sleeves. The tunic itself was made of silk, probably brought in from the Byzantine empire and was only available to the upperclass of this time.

"I am not wearing those!" You said when they opened the jewellery boxes. There were diamonds and other precious stones adorning the earrings and necklaces.

"But princess, you must wear these. It is royal protocol for the king's bride to be, and the future queen to wear the royal jewels." The head maid said. She doesnt know that you dont plan on sticking around and if you leave wearing these jewels, who knows what havoc would that cause?

"No. I dont want to wear them."

The maids shared a look of concern. "What?" You asked them.

"Its just... his majesty picked these out for you himself. He would be mad at us if you were not wearing these." One of the younger servants spoke as she fumbled with her fingers. Through the mirror, you looked at everyone's worried expression. You doubt that someone as calm and collected as Baldwin would lose his marbles over his fiancee not wearing jewellery.

"I dont think the king would be mad at you if I dont wear some jewellery. He isnt one to get angry that easily, you know?" You said chuckling, but it died when you saw them share the same concerned looks again. This time, you turned away from the mirror to look at them directly. "What? Go on, no secrets."

Another maid mustered up the courage to mumble. "Well- it's just- the king- I mean- his majesty is calm but um-" she paused to look at the other maids for help but they all avoided eye contact. "Out with it." You said a bit sternly.

"His majesty... gets... emotional- yes, emotional! When it comes to matters concerning you."

"Emotional? What do you mean? Speak clearly, no word will get out of this room, I promise." You spoke all while glaring at the other maids to make them silently comply to not tattle on their friend.

The maid bit her lip. "His majesty... gets mad when he thinks that you're not being treated well." You gave her a look to continue. "A few weeks back, while you were strolling out in the garden, his majesty reprimanded some of his knights for not escorting you. He asked them why they weren't guarding you?"

A few weeks back? It may have made some sense for Baldwin to be protective of his bride to be, but you two weren't engaged until yesterday. And before that, his relationship with you was barely platonic, more like a king-servant thing.

"Tell her about the kitchen incident too." Another maid whispered.

"What kitchen incident?"

"Um, 2 months ago, when the kitchen had prepared a feast for his majesty, he almost fired the entire kitchen staff for serving olives with the entree." You gave them a quizzical look. "Well, his majesty had told them that you can't eat olives and had told them not to include it in the palace's food. But it was a feast to celebrate his victory and the staff thought it'd be best to add olives because the king likes them."

Your eyes widened at that. He almost fired the kitchen staff because you said you can't eat olives? I mean, it's not like you're deathly allergic, you just didn't like how tart they were and when Baldwin saw you picking them out on your plate, all you could manage to blurt out was that you can't eat them. Perhaps, he thought you had diet restrictions like him.

You huffed. That still didnt warrant such a reaction from him. "That isn't nice. Don't worry, I'll talk to him."

The maid looked at you in horror. "No! I mean, his majesty would not like that we- um..." she tried to come up with appropriate words that wouldn't be insulting. Her scrunched up face as she thought hard made you giggle.

"Fine, fine. I won't say anything to him. You have my word." You said, smiling at them assuringly.

The head maid then held out the pearl necklace to you. You sighed and nodded, and they all cheered as they started picking out the jewels for you.

Its okay. You told yourself. I can always drop them somewhere before time travelling.

As soon as you were dressed, one of Sibylla's lady-in-waiting came to fetch you. She hurried you, saying something along the lines of "you must see princess Sibylla right away!" And you couldn't stop her from pulling you along, so time travelling will have to wait.

"Princess Sibylla needs to see you right away, princess!" The maid said as she pulled you towards a room. Knocking on it, the door swung open and you were met with the sight of different gowns hanging on dummies with maids tending to them, and right in the center of the room was Sibylla, practically jumping on her heels.

"Y/n!" She yelled out as she ran towards you and engulfed you in a hug before her lady in waiting, the same one standing beside you, cleared her throat. It caught Sibylla's attention who gasped softly before backing away and immeadiately giving you a courtesy. "I mean, princess Y/n." You gave a nasty look to the lady in waiting before shaking your head at an embarrassed Sibylla. "You don't need to courtesy to me, princess Sibylla."

She immeadiately beamed. "Of course I do! You're not going to be just my sister in law, you're also going to be Queen of Jerusalem! Of course i bow to you."

Me, a queen? Yeah, we'll see about that.

"Still, I consider us friends before anything else." You offerer her a small smile. "You called for me?"

"Oh? Oh, yes!" She immeadiately grabbed your hand and pulled you further into the room. "I didn't know what colours and material you preferred, so I ordered them to bring everything with the best seamstresses in kingdom!" She pointed at the seamstresses, who bowed to you.

"But... I don't need clothes. I already have a wardrobe." Your statement made Sibylla laugh as did a few of her hand maidens.

"Ahh, you're so naive!" Sibylla giggled. "That wardrobe doesn't exist anymore. You're a princess, soon to be queen, you need a royal wardrobe!" She said as she dragged her hand over one of the gowns, feeling the material. "And! You still have to select your bridal gown!"

For the next 3 hours, Sibylla had the maids show you different gowns and materials, even helping by giving her input as to what would suit you.

"I still like my old clothes, they're quite comfortable." You sighed. Designing your new wardrobe was not something that needed your urgent attention at the moment. You need to return to your room and get the time machine from your old dress and leave this era.

Sibylla nods. "I understand what you're going through. I still remember how they burned away my entire wardrobe when I married Guy. But I suppose its poetic in a way. Since you're starting a new life, so why not start one by getting new clothes!"

Wait.

"They burnt all your old clothes?" Sibylla nods. "Mmhmm! In a way, you're burning away your past! And starting a new-" You didn't stick around as you immeadiately rushed out of the room and made your way towards your own.

You can't- your old clothes has your time machine. If they burn it, you can't ever leave!

You burst into your room, looking at the empty spot on your bed where you'd left your clothes before going in the bath.

"No." The maids, they must've put it in your closet. You searched it, searched your entire room but to no avail.

A maid walked into your room, watching you tear apart the bedroom. "P-princess? May I help-"

"Where are my clothes?!" You walked upto her, the poor maid's fright apparently on her face. "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES!?"

"They- they're burning it-"

"WHERE?!"

"The gardens!"

You ran out of your room, and made your way towards the royal gardens as fast as you could, but with how huge this palace was, getting there took a while. Not to mention when you did get to the gardens, you didn't spot anyone there, but you did notice the smell of something burning, which lead you to the back of the gardens, that was away from everyone's sight.

There you found them, two maids burning your clothes in a small bonfire.

"PUT IT OUT!" You yelled as you rushed towards them, startling them.

"Princess-" they began bowing.

"Didn't you hear me? PUT THE FIRE OUT!" They scrambled about trying to find some water, but of course, they didn't have it.

"I'll get it from the fountain!" The two maids ran to get a bucket of water for you, but it would be too late by the time they came. So when you spotted your old dress burning, you pulled it out with bare hands, not caring about burning yourself.

The dress was mostly burnt to ashes, while only few bits remained that were still on fire. You managed to wrangle out your time machine out of it, the small metal box that was burning hot and left marks on your skin as you tried to hold it.

But even from here, you could see the damage was done. The area that displayed the year had now completely melted off, as did some of the buttons.

No. No. No. No. No. NO!

You couldn't help but cry as reality began to set in. You're stuck here.... you're stuck here forever.

Heart wrenching sobs wracked your body as you tried to hold the hot metal machine in your hands, your skin burning as you tried. Even when the servants came and poured the water on the fire, you still kept on crying, clutching your machine to your chest, partly to conceal it, partly from helplessness.

The maids looked at each in worry as they tried to console you, tried to pacify you, lest you had them executed. But it didn't matter, you were inconsolable. While one of the maids sat by your side, trying to soothe you, the other one ran in to get help.

Moments later, when you were able to hide the machine in your clothes again, someone came up and touched your shoulder from behind.

"Y/n?" You looked up through your tears. It was Baldwin. For some reason, seeing him only made you cry harder as you finally realised that you were stuck here with him. That you fucked up permanently.

"Oh princess. What's wrong? Don't cry- shhh, I'm here." He pulled your body towards him, letting you sob into his chest heartbreakingly. Exhaustion, frustration and shock must have overtook your body, as you fainted in his arms.

"Princess? Y/n?" He tried waking you up before collecting you in his arms and rushing back into the castle.

Hours later, you woke up to find yourself back in your room, lying in your bed. Your eyes looked down at your hands which were now wrapped in bandages. They only served as a reminder of what youd lost- your time machine.

Tears welled up in your eyes again. Am I- am I really stuck here? You sniffled.

A hand came up to caress your cheek, startling you.

It was Baldwin. "Princess? Do you want to tell me what happened?" His soft tone made you even more sad, and you raised your bandaged hands to wipe your tears, but he caught your wrists and lowered them back gently, using his own hands to wipe away the tears.

"No, you cant use your hands for sometime. The burns need to heal." His hand remained on your cheek, thumb caressing the area under your eye. "What happened, Y/n? Why were you so upset?"

You cant avoid the topic for long, and now that your way of escape is gone, you need to be careful of what you say and how you act around the king.

You let out a shaky breath. "They... they burned my clothes."

"Mmhm. Dont worry, I will have them bring in the fanciest clothes for you. Sibylla will make sure of it. Only the best for my princess." You shook your head. "Its not- its not that... They were my clothes... they burned away-"

"I know... but its a tradition. The maids burn away the bride-to-be's old clothes to signify that youre detaching yourself from the past and starting a new life." He explained, watching as you sniffled. Clearly, you were still upset over this.

"But the maids, they still should've informed you of this tradition before doing anything. I know how emotional of a transition this could be for girls." You nodded sadly, heart still sinking at the loss of your machine. "Dont worry though, they will be punished harshly for it. I have them in the dungeons tonight, and tomorrow-"

"What? Punished? No!" You cut him off. You dont want anyone to die because of you, especially when you dont know if anyone these people could potentially be an ancestor of yours.

"But they caused you harm. You burned yourself due to their-"

"No, no. Please, don't punish anyone- I- it was my fault for not knowing about royal traditions! Please, your Majesty, I beg you- don't do this- i- i-" You pleaded.

"Shhh, okay. Okay. I won't punish them for it." He patted your hair. "On one condition."

You looked at him in confusion.

"You call me Baldwin from now on." He grinned. "We are to be husband and wife soon, I don't want us to use royal titles with each other."

Your eyes widened. Is he- is he really giving up titles? You're not that blind to see his attempts at intimacy, but what you don't understand is why or even how you came to be on the receiving end of it.

What exactly is it about you that has made him want to marry you? Surely, Baldwin would've preferred to marry someone of this era, someone who is more compatible with him. Despite you trying to blend in the past months, you allowed Baldwin to see how you're not... as Conservative as most people of this time period are. One could say that he may be impressed by how intelligent you are than others, but it also brings up the factor of being "threatened" or "insulted" by the same intelligence.

Even though you consider beauty to be a "subjective" thing, the whole "beauty is in the eye of the beholder", you're not blind to how attractive others are. So why not them?

Did he only like you because you're intriguing? Does he still think you're a spy? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?

Probably. Or maybe he really does believe all that mumbo jumbo about you being "an angel sent to save him."

"As you wish... Baldwin."

Last night, after Baldwin had left you to rest, you stayed up and tried to figure out if you can fix your time machine, and if not, then can you built another one?

Fucking hell. You closed your eyes. I made it once, I can build it again. But it's easier said than done.

Back in the present, you had the technology to build it. Now? You have to first make the technology and the tools from scratch before you could even get on making your time machine, all while keeping your science project discrete, which was easier before because you weren't going to be married to a fucking King!

Right now, you're sitting in Baldwin's private dining room (yes, there are more than one dining room. He's royalty, what did you expect) having breakfast- well, being fed breakfast.

"You really don't need to do this." You said as Baldwin fed you another spoonful. He smiled as he wiped your lips with a napkin. "I don't need to, I want to. Besides, I don't want my princess starving."

Involuntary, your face flushed. "I- the maids could've fed me. And im not a princess." He frowned slightly. "Why would you- open wide, princess- why would you want the maids to feed you when you have me?" He pushed the spoon to your face as you parted your lips, but then he pulled it away and brought his face close to yours. "Do I make you nervous?"

You backed away immediately. "I- no- I mean-"

He burst out laughing. "I'm- I'm sorry princess, but you are just too endearing!" Baldwin chuckled as he grabbed the spoon again and fed you.

Your cheeks reddened, this time more out anger than embarrassment. "I don't want to eat anymore." You muttered, turning your face away.

He smiled as he brought the spoon to your lips again. "Ah ah, but you still haven't had enough." However, you rejected again, looking away instead of replying.

He sighed, placing the spoon back on the plate. "I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have laughed at you."

"You shouldn't have." You mumbled, face still turned away from him.

His lips quirked up a bit. "You know, for someone who insists that she's not a princess-" He turned your face to him gently. "- you sure have all the blandishment of one."

"Blandishment?"

"Flattering actions of a princess." He nodded.

You frowned. "Are you calling me a spoiled princess? A brat?"

"I would never!" Baldwin gasped. "I enjoy you acting like royalty, demanding respect and attention. You deserve it and more. Besides-" He picked up some food on the spoon again and brought it to your lips. "Even if if you were a spoiled, bratty princess, I wouldn't mind. I would enjoy spoiling you, hm?" He nudged the spoon to your lips softly.

You parted your lips, making him smile. It really is hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you with his baby blue eyes. They just- they draw you in.

"Also, before I forget, I will be leaving the castle today to meet Salauddin. So you can either hand out with Sibylla, who still wants to help you design your wedding gown, or your can-"

Salauddin? "Why are you meeting Salauddin? Isn't he your enemy?"

He chuckled. "Only on the battlefield. He and I have developed a friendship, or a mutual respect over the years. As to why I'm going to meet him, is... well, you."

"Me?" He nodded. "Since you told me that you're a Muslim, I thought that we could perhaps have a discreet Islamic wedding- what is it called? Nikkah? So, I could go and learn more about it from Salauddin."

You opened your mouth to protest. You don't need to be part of history as the "king of Jerusalem's Muslim wife" or "the Muslim-Christian wedding that took place during the Crusades", even if it might make the world more progressive.

But then, you didn't protest. "Can I come?"

Baldwin raised a brow at you. "You want to meet Salauddin?" You shook you're head. "Well, no, not really. I mean, I don't mind meeting him, but I just want to get out of the castle for a bit. It's been months since i left this place, I just want to get some fresh air." This could be the perfect opportunity for you, because if memory serves you right, Muslims of this era had made significant advances in science. Maybe you can use their help to get some tools to make the time machine again.

Baldwin looked unsure. "I don't know if it would be safe for you-" you held his hand with your bandaged ones. "Please, Baldwin? Can't you take me with you? And wouldn't I be the most safe when I'm with you?" Ah yes, stroke the male ego.

Finally, he smiled.

"Alright. I supposed it would be fine, after all, you should see the kingdom you're going to be the queen of."

Thoughts? (Also, I need to go shower rn, so I'll put the read more later. Doing so much effort for u guys, my spoiled greedy children)

Part 3 is here.

#yandere baldwin #yandere king baldwin #male yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x #yandere x darling #yandere #baldwin iv

1K notes · View notes

vinnyhongnsfwgurl · 4 months

Text

1st Vinny Hong FanFic? I literally have no idea what this should be LOL

Hello all Windbreaker fans and Vinny Hong lovers. This is my first Vinny Hong x female reader fanfic. I hope you enjoy and comments/feedback is always welcome! Thanks :3

So, I didn't realize what kind of fanfic this would be after I finished writing it LMAO. Complete despair and heartbreak hahaha. I just chose to write and not think to hard. tbh I'm pretty happy with it. Let me know what you think :) .... also I did not proof read haha I am lazy.

I think I'll do a part 2 to this one!

"y/n? ...... y/n?"

"Y/N?!"

You're head snaps up to look at your mother sitting in the hospital bed next to you. She looked at you slightly worried.

She tilted her head as she asked "Are you okay? I called your name multiple times."

You sat up straighter in your chair and nodded. "Yes. Sorry. I, uh, just got lost in my thoughts for a moment." A lot had happened in the past couple of weeks. My mother got very sick and ended up in the hospital for a second time, nearly dying due to a brain aneurysm. It had put a lot of stress on every part of our lives, mostly financially. We weren't poor, but we certainly did not have the luxury to not work and stay in the hospital for extended periods.

I had thought about picking up extra hours at my part-time job, but I knew it wouldn't help much and I knew my studies would suffer. I was already struggling to keep my grades up. Besides my part-time job, I had to train for the upcoming final race of League of Streets. I was a part of Hummingbird and it was amazing but like my personal life, it was a mess. So much had happened with our team.

The most recent event was Vinny leaving our team deciding to ride with the Ghost crew. He started doing small races for money, which were broadcasted online. I had seen a few. Everyone was confused and upset including me. The whole reason we created Hummingbird was to compete in LOS and win the price money for Vinny's mother but I guess he had different plans in mind.

"It'll be okay honey" my mom said as she reached for my hand. I let let her hold my hand. It was warm and reassuring.

I smiled. "I know mom. I'm glad you're alright .... I was really scared actually." I could feel the pressure behind my eyes build up.

My mom started tearing up. "I know. I know y/n. but it's okay, I'm okay." She squeezed my hand.

I just nodded. "yeah."

After a few minutes and making sure my mother didn't need anything, I hugged her goodbye and started making my way out of the hospital. I took a seat on a bench that was stationed right next to the entrance of hospital. I had taken a bus here and planned on taking it to get back home. It only took me ten minutes to get to the bus stop, so I had a bit of time before I had to leave. I was really tired and too stressed. I found myself looking for more quiet moments out of my day.

I looked out toward the street across from the hospital. It was already dark out, but there was quite a bit of traffic. Honking interrupted the empty, docile night every now and than.

I heard footsteps come around the corner that ended abruptly once they caught up to the bench I was sitting at. As I turned my head to see what or who it was, I hear a familiar voice.

"What are you doing here?"

Vinny. It was all I thought as my eyes met his. His red eye seemed strikingly brighter than it usually was. Maybe it's just because I hadn't seen him in awhile.

"Oh. I was visiting my mom. She recently had surgery." I explained. ".... Are you hear to see your mom?" I asked.

He was quiet for a second before answering my question. "Yeah, she's staying here."

"MMm that's good. Glad to hear she is getting treatment" I said.

"What about your mom? Is she okay?"

"oh yeah! The surgery went well, so everything is good." I gave a sheepish thumbs up. I always became painfully aware of how awkward I felt when interacting with Vinny. I was a fairly shy person and it didn't help how handsome I thought he was. It took time in the beginning for us to get along and establish a relationship. It wasn't hard for me to figure out soon after that I was falling in love with him.

There was a lot I learned about him after Hummingbird was formed and the more I learned the more I desired to be near him. He was hot headed and pretty reserved, but it never really bothered me. I always went out of my way to greet him at practice and I chat with him when I could. I never cared if it was just small talk.

He just stared at me for a moment before saying "Good to hear that."

I knew what what was coming next, or what wasn't. This would be the end of our conversation. I didn't want it to be.

"How have you been?" I asked.

"I'm fine." He said plainly.

"And Jack?" following it up with a smile.

"He's fine too."

Man of few words I thought. I was used to it but I always wondered what actually behind those words: I'm fine.

"Are you really doing fine? I know I'm probably not the first person you think of when you want to talk to someone, but you're my friend. I'm here for you." I blurted out without much thinking.

When I had mentioned how confusing and upset I was when he left our crew, it was an understatement. I was sad and hurt. I also felt so helpless. He left us all behind and had no desire to return.

I looked down at the backpack I held in my arms. There was so much I wanted to say, but none of it seemed enough.

"I'm sorry for everything that's happened. I know you're having a hard time. I wish you hadn't had to leave the team."

"I don't know why you're apologizing, y/n. You don't need to." He replied.

Vinny walked up closer to me until he stood just a few inches from my feet. I looked up and he gaze had softened just a bit.

"You don't need to worry about me. Just focus on yourself. You have a lot going on."

"Yeah."

There was a moment of silence as Vinny and I held each other's gaze.

Then Vinny turned to leave. "I'll see you later y/n."

Before he took another step, I reached for his hand. It was a light grasp, just enough to stop him.

"Come back to Hummingbird ..... at least, at some point. We'll wait for you. It's nothing without you"

Vinny just stared at me before pulling his hand away from my mine.

"Y/n."

"It doesn't matter if it's not tomorrow, or the next day, or weeks from now! J-just come back. Please." I could feel a increase in my heart rate and the pressure behind my eyes building up again.

Vinny sighed and turned away from me.

"There's no reason for me to come back." He said sternly. "There's nothing you or the others can offer me." He continued has he started walking away.

Something warm slid down the right side of me cheek. I blinked and more came out. I was crying.

I just stood there as I continued to watch him walk away. My crying only worsened and I could feel a lump form in my throat.

I can't give up on you Vinny I thought as I recollected the memories of us together and how much our relationship progressed.

I just can't Vinny. I won't. I love you.

After he was well out of my sight, I finally left for the bus station. I cried the entire way.

For once, I wished it wasn't so quiet out.

#windbreaker #vinny hong x reader #vinny hong #webtoon #jay windbreaker #fanfic #heartbreak #windbreaker x reader

101 notes · View notes

yerion · 10 months

Text

for tonight.

an album is in the works for yoongi. just when stress could corrupt the rest of his mind void of inspiration, he decides to find you—the ex of bts’ main rapper.

pairing : idol!yoongi, exboyfriend!yoongi x f-reader. genres : mainly fluff.

content : yoongi takes you to his studio to prove that this isn’t just a fever dream, but his second confession.

word count : 2,7k.

“hello?” rubbing your eyes, you whimper in fatigue as you press your phone against your ear. “um,” your eyes open at the silence. “please leave a voicemail if this is anything important—”

“it’s me.”

you swallow once at the familiarity; it feels like you’re swallowing a hundred needles, or splinters—or maybe even nails.

“sorry for the random call in the middle of the night.”

it’s him.

you remember breaking up with your first boyfriend—min yoongi.

to others, he’s known as suga or agust d.

there’s no end if anyone was to discuss his successes, yet someone like you happened to be his girlfriend behind the scenes.

you were desperate to forget about him—and efforts never tend to disappoint, so it’s only normal for yours to pay off as well.

it’s been years.

“were you asleep?” yoongi asks vaguely. back then, discerning his emotions was as easy as falling asleep in his arms. now you can’t actually tell if he’s apologetic, or maybe feeling guilty—there’s a chance he could be feeling as paranoid as you right now.

then again, why would he?

“why did you call?” you finally muster the will to ask. it only cost you a few painful swallows and a couple of shallow breaths.

and it’s dead quiet again.

“why are we breaking up?”

it was dead quiet then too.

you exhale shakily as you clench your blanket in your fists.

you’re in dire of a distraction—you didn’t know you still had any space in your heart to be hurt after being scratched countless times.

you can’t believe this is real—this blazing pain you can’t compare with anything else.

why does pain like this still exist, and why is it related to yoongi again?

“i don’t know.” he just says.

he doesn’t even understand how fatal those words are to you; three simple words—three common words that possess the sick power to break you.

it’s every asshole’s evacuation and escape route. in the past, yoongi was anything but that, however time warps anyone.

“i’m hanging up if that’s all you have to say.”

“remember when you said to call when things get really hard?”

is he going through something?

last time you glanced at the internet and its headlines, you read that he’s preparing for a solo release before enlisting into the army.

that does sound like a harsh time for him, but you feel like he’s been through much worse—taking possible disbandment discussions as one, his early debut days as two, and his pre-debut shoulder injury and the story behind it as three.

“what’s wrong?” you can’t help to ask, you follow your heart more than your head—you always have; you haven’t changed.

“i…”

“did you have a drink?” you guess, only because he’s never the type to falter.

“i had a few shots of whiskey,” he confesses huskily. “it usually helps, but tonight it’s not doing shit.” you can hear his empty, hoarse laugh after indulging you into his new reality.

it’s as if you’re sobering, you slowly lift yourself up from your mattress. hair brushes past your dewy face and wetted lips, and you bring your knees close to your chest to stay seated under the slice of moonlight, eager to hear your ex-boyfriend’s rare struggle.

“how about you?” yoongi asks like he used to. “how have you been?”

“fine,” you answer. “me not calling you ever since and begging for another chance says everything.”

“i guess you’re right.” his hollow laugh reverberates in your ear. “i know it’s fucked coming from me, but i…” he breathes out loud, “—wanted to ask you a favour.”

“why?” you pry quietly. “what do i have and you don’t?” you ask with bitterness on the tip of your tongue. you’re no superstar and you’re no millionaire like him—you’re just you—the average you.

“want to find out?”

from there, all you hear is white noise. though yoongi kept the audio quite blank before, you couldn’t hear any background noise until now. there’s constant crackles and sounds that resemble the howling of the wind.

by sweeping open the curtain beside you, the drip of moonlight seeping through your room enlarges.

now you see the moon as whole in the starry sky alongside leaves rustling in sync with the noise from your phone.

“are you outside?”

“uh…” yoongi wonders huskily. he used to tousle his own hair while pondering aloud. “do you still live in the same house?” he inquires cautiously.

immediately, you crawl closer to your window, hurriedly smacking your palm against the glass to peer straight down from the third floor of your apartment.

your eyes brim with anticipation as they bounce everywhere—the flickering streetlights, the dimmed garden, the dormant cars parked outside, the swaying trees.

“are you here?” your breath trembles as you try to extinguish the glimmer of hope within. considering his status, everything he does on his own is like playing with spitting flames, although he’s human just like you.

“yeah,” he replies softly. “do you want to talk?”

“yeah,” you answer identically. “i’ll be down in a second.”

“alright.”

he always left you to hang up, and today wasn’t any different.

for a moment, you stare at your phone screen lit up with a new, unregistered number and the ongoing time beneath.

you’re inevitably on a delay because of how surreal everything is, but you manage to disconnect the call promptly in order to face him for the first time in years.

this is your ex—your ex, min yoongi, is downstairs—a ramble and an echo of your own words play inside your head while you storm out of your apartment to rush into the elevator.

because of how ungodly the hour is, there isn’t a single soul out in the lobby. secrecy is on your side today, and you know for a fact yoongi will be appreciative of it.

with breaths that you can’t even collect, you chew on your lip as the elevator dings on the ground floor.

the lobby is cold—insanely cold—the cold pierces through your skin, desperate to cling onto your heat. even so, the automatic doors slide open at the sense of your urgency, and your head turns in accordance to the voices of your heart—where is he? is he really here?

and you see him—he looks nothing like the yoongi you saw in your torturous and repetitive dreams back then.

yoongi has his eyes set to the ground as he absentmindedly roams around the front of your apartment. his pale skin infused with moonlight glows unlike his attire—he always liked his blacks.

“yoongi,” you involuntarily call out in an unexpectant soft decibel. you want to be louder, but the squeeze of your heart restricts you from doing so.

yoongi stops mid-motion to flick his head up at the sound of your velvety voice. “it really has been a while.” he laughs once in absurdity. “thanks for coming out.”

you only stepped out of your own home, but he’s the one who travelled beyond thirty minutes to see you.

“what brings you here at this time?” exhaling slowly, you hug your own bare arms to keep yourself warm.

yoongi averts your gaze by turning his head to sigh loudly. “it’s just me thinking for myself again.” he looks out, “you know how i am when it comes to my priorities.”

“did you argue with one of the boys?” you frown. “is something not working out?”

“the memories of you in my head were starting to fade,” he says. “i couldn’t sit around and let that happen.”

“we broke up.”

at that, yoongi takes his approach to walk closer. he’s intentional with his steps, keeping it slow amidst the chilliness which should be attacking him as much as it’s bothering you. “i know.” he answers deeply, still leaving gaps for you to fill.

“you’re going to be seen with me,” you dismiss heartlessly as you survey your surroundings worriedly before returning his stare.

yoongi drops his head again to exhale in thought. then, he wordlessly slides his zip up hoodie off of his shoulders to drape it around your smaller body. his eyes glide over your collarbones, but he’s quick to hide your skin by bringing each end of the hoodie together.

you raise your brow. “seriously?”

“is that all i made you think of?” yoongi cuts in. “i knew i was a shitty boyfriend, but, wow, it never gets old.” his hand drops in defeat as he laughs under his breath.

“forget it,” you bite the inner flesh of your cheek, grasping yoongi’s hoodie to tear it off. “we—no, you said you had a favour for me?”

yoongi reaches out to seize your hand, stopping you from escaping his scent and warmth. he’s rather blunt for someone who’s no longer with you anymore, nor is he even hesitant or cautious when touching you. “yeah, i do.” he then answers casually after retreating. “i have somewhere to take you.”

you don’t know how the hell you made it here; you don’t know why you’re seated here without any sort of resistance in yoongi’s studio—listening to nothing but the obnoxious ticking noises in the room.

it’s undeniably a distracting sound, so you wonder how yoongi works under it—or should you say above, considering how high he is up in the world?

“you got rid of your old speakers.” you mention as you start to realise everything in this room is unrecognisable to you.

yoongi falls lazily onto his chair, accustomed to this mundane routine of his. “which ones?”

“never mind,” you mutter in embarrassment. “it’s been years, and electronics get replaced all the time—” laughing awkwardly, you grip onto the edge of the couch. “—don’t they?”

yoongi’s breath tumbles into a nostalgic laughter. “just be yourself.”

pursing your lips uncomfortably at his familiarity towards you, your thighs tense as you remain quietly seated on his couch beside the rest of his equipment and multiple monitors projecting a music production software. “are you working on new music?” you ask out of awkwardness.

“yeah,” yoongi turns to face the main monitor. “my last album before i enlist.”

you try to swallow the gulp stuck on your throat. “when is it coming out?”

yoongi sucks in a breath as he sits back on the headrest, gazing at the ceiling thoughtlessly. “good question.” before you can open your mouth to inquire, he smiles knowingly and interrupts, “come see this,” he tilts his head in the direction of his workspace.

curious, you lift your weight off of his couch to trudge over to hover beside yoongi. your stare descends to the notebook covered in rushed, indecipherable handwriting.

“can you tell?”

by all means at his words, you squint, trying to decrypt the meaning behind his ideas formed in scribbles. “not really?” your voice projects with uncertainty.

yoongi cracks into a short, breathy laugh. “even after so many years with me.” he drags out a croaky yet deep ‘hm’ before confessing in a mutter, “it’s about you—listen, i know it doesn’t look like it, but… uh, fuck.”

you couldn’t help but to chuckle at him stressing. “yeah, okay.” you roll your eyes playfully, “sure it is.”

at your reply, yoongi wordlessly clicks through a few prompts on his computer. “and this.”

by rocking forward from where you stand, you instantly recognise the meaning behind the folders shown on the monitor. there’s four folders named after you—in your initials.

“they’re all for the album i’m working on.”

you turn to face yoongi blankly, faces now close from your slouch. “what if i told you i had a boyfriend?” you were meant to say boldly, however yoongi’s timeless pink lips take you aback.

“you wouldn’t have come out if you did.”

the confidence in his voice makes you freeze momentarily. the time he’s spent with you is definitely not a delusion. it’s no surprise he knows you well. “true.” you forfeit.

“so…” yoongi trails off huskily. “is it too late for us to start over again?”

did you hear correctly?

your heart comes to a brake; one with an aggressive skid. “are you being serious?” you ask breathily.

he nods once. “damn serious.”

you push yourself back a little, knees still bent. “i… didn’t think a day like this would come.”

“you have an unforgettable face and voice.” yoongi exhales, “i really tried.”

“thank you for not trying hard enough.” stifling your chuckle and retaining your helpless smile, you reach out to tenderly clasp his shoulders. “i think i would’ve gone crazy if you did.”

yoongi elicits laughter. “crazier than when you’re hungry?”

you attempt to shake his shoulders. “i really considered becoming your fan to justify my liking towards you.”

“even if every song of mine was based on you?” he genuinely asks. “you wouldn’t last a day being in the audience.”

“come on,” you roll your eyes.

“so stay as my girlfriend.” yoongi confesses. “i’ll treat you right—better, this time.”

you couldn’t deny the anxiety pooling in your stomach at his suggestion. after all, he’s a superstar—most fitted to be up high, sparkling like the twinkling stars in the night.

and what are you?

how will you shine beside him?

won’t you just drag him down?

no.

that’s not true.

you’re you—you’re sure you shine in your own way.

that’s the reason behind why everyone exists today.

you let a smile consume your lips as you nod. “i’ll trust you.” you muse, “like how i did long ago.”

yoongi ascends from his seat and stands on his feet, causing you to stumble back instinctively. “except this time i won’t disappoint you.” he watches you turn silent at his promise. “i have more than enough time to love you now.”

shaking your head, your smile widens. “you’re sounding a lot like someone who’s been an idol for over ten years.”

yoongi tightens his lips as he shrugs his shoulders like he normally does. “well, that’s the truth.” he answers huskily. “i’m growing old.”

“we are growing old.”

“hopefully together.”

you grimace jokingly. “you’ve gotten awfully sweeter.”

“it’s about time i try some romance.” yoongi tilts his head to the side invitingly before spreading open his arms for you to clearly jump into. it fuels a wave of nostalgia to flood into your mind.

you cross your arms teasingly, dismissing him for a moment. “in a company full of beautiful people dancing and singing everywhere they go, there’s no way you had zero interest after me.”

“just get in here.” he flicks his head towards himself and his arms.

raising one brow, you stare at him defeatedly. “you have a lot of storytelling to do.”

“and you talk too much,” yoongi says bluntly, however it’s just his way of speech. “you should know how impatient i am.”

“yeah, yeah.”

at that, yoongi loops his arms around you. with the force of his arms, causing you to subtly thud against his chest. an arm of his snakes behind your head, allowing his hand to rest against the softness of your uncombed bed hair.

taken aback, half of your face buries comfortably into the side of his neck and his left shoulder.

he still feels the same.

he still smells the same.

“thank you.” he mutters softly into your ear, holding you tightly against himself to refrain you from flipping and turning to observe his expression. “i had no hope for today, but—” he inhales sharply. “—never mind.”

you manage to leave a distance between yourself and yoongi to peer up at his face. “hey,” you whisper cautiously when you see the seriousness written over his façade. he blinks slowly, lips shut and quiet. “it’s not like we ended terribly.” extending your hand, you cup his heated cheek.

perhaps yoongi is guilty, he keeps himself isolated from the idea of elucidating.

“superstar, i’m honoured to see you look so unsure of me.”

he finally breaks into a croaky scoff. “don’t call me that.”

you quickly swoop forward to steal a kiss from his lips, immediately feeling red upon tearing away. “i’m just stating a fact.”

“i’ll be good to you.” he promises the moment you drift from his lips.

“you better.”

341 notes · View notes

ravennaortiz · 5 months

Note

Happy for 2 and 13. Angst turned fluff. Our Killa doesn't always realize he deserves good things too.

P.S. If you get sick of my asks feel free to tell me to fuck off. I just adore your works and have a serious thing for Happy (and Chibs and Tig, but mostly Hap 😋)

You are speaking the truth! He does not at all and we will fix that one story at a time!

The way I busted out laughing at the P.S section! Mam you can do no wrong in my eyes and I will never get tired of tired of your asks! I will write you Happy stories until my fingers bleed and my eyes blur from staring at the screen! So send them in as you think of them!

Now back to your order. Looks like you want a Happy Meal with Angst and a side of fluff. With the prompts 2: I'm not the right man for you and 13: I promise. *Excellent Choice*

Over?

Happy had been dreading this conversation all week. Being on a week long run had given him the excuse he needed to put distance between the two of you. Allowed him to rebuild those walls he had been letting your chip away at the last few months. Tonight he was going to destroy the relationship you two had in order to keep you from meeting an early grave.

His lifestyle and past were too dangerous. Demons chased him and he couldn't think of you getting caught by one. His sins were not yours to atone for. The club shit lately was getting darker and darker. The last straw for him was what happened to Tara a couple of weeks ago. He had been haunted by the image of it being you. You in a pool of cold blood with eyes glassy and fixed on nothing. The sound of Juice's voice pulled him from his well of sorrows.

"Hap! Your girls here" called Juice as he saw you walk in. Happy had asked him to keep an eye out for you so that he could do this quick before you got to far into the clubhouse. The smile and wave you shot him was like a punch to the gut as he slammed his beer down and made his way too you. Grabbing your arm roughly he pulled you out the door behind him making you stumble as you tried to keep up.

"Happy? Whats wrong?" you questioned worry obvious in your expression as he turned to you. Happy had to ground himself as his resolve weakened at the concern in your voice. Giving himself a shake mentally he reminded himself this was what was best for you.

"We are over and you're not welcome here anymore" stated Happy firmly his face expressionless. "What? Why?" you struggled to get out as tears spilled down your cheeks. Happy shut his eyes and his voice shook slightly as he spoke again. "I'm not the right man for you. Life I lead isn't built for you and I don't deserve the sunshine that is you. So were done. Leave" replied Happy trying to be harsh at the end.

You were silent for a couple of minutes as you considered how wrong the stoic man in front of you was. Happy readied himself for the swift sting of a slap as he felt your arm move under his loose grip. The softness of your skin as you caressed his cheek had him opening his eyes. "Here I thought you were one of those smart bikers" you murmured as his eyes met yours. "Didn't even check me for a weapon before trying to break my heart" you chided giving him a soft smile.

"I can protect myself" he grunted as he grabbed your hand that was on his cheek. "Please go" he added quietly. "No. I don't accept your break up Happy. You're scared. Shit has been crazy I get it but that doesn't mean you get to push me away. " you stated defiantly eyes ablaze with passion as you spoke.

"I promise you Happy, you are the right man for me. " you added before leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his nose. "I love you. You're perfect in my eyes and need to stop being so damn hard on yourself. Just because you do....questionable things doesn't mean you don't deserve sunshine, rainbows and nose kisses" you soothed as you pulled him into a hug.

Happy sighed as he let you wrap yourself around him. "Guess I'm stuck with you" he rasped knowing you had won. "I can't wait to tell your momma how you tried to dump me when we go over to her house for dinner tomorrow night." you chuckled into his chest. "I'll have to check her for a weapon first" laughed Happy. His momma didn't play when it came to you.

Want more Happy? Click here

Want to see how to make your own request? Click here

#sons of anarchy #ravennasmasterlist #ravennasrequest #soa fanfiction #soa fanfic #soa #happy lowman #happy lowman fanfic #happy lowman fanfiction #happy lowman x reader #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy headcanon #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy one shots #sons of anarchy x reader

88 notes · View notes

loveharlow · 2 years

Text

LOVE SICK

PAIRING‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Ex!Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [3.1k] Who knew being sick could be grounds for rekindling a flame with your ex...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of being sick/throwing up, mentions of a failed relationship, Y/n’s a little mean but it’s warranted (for the most part), hurt/comfort (?), mild angst, fluff at the end

A/N‧₊˚ My first post got a lot more attention than I anticipated, ty all sm. I was literally smiling from ear to ear like a fucking kid but here’s something new! I’m trying to make my way through all the basic genres (like fluff to hurt/comfort to angst, etc…) to get into the hang of it so bare with me please.

˗ˏˋ jj masterlist ˎˊ˗

I FELT LIKE SHIT. Absolute shit.

I woke up with a sore throat and decided to pour up a glass of tea, hoping it would ease the dry aching of my throat, even if only temporary.

I didn’t have work today. In fact, I was due to hangout with the Pogues in a couple of hours. It was nothing special. We were just planning to hangout at John B’s, probably drink beers around a fire and pass out.

But now, as I sat up from my nap hours after I gulped down my mug of hot tea—throat feeling ten-times worse, a spontaneous and incessant headache pounding in my skull, and my entire body covered in a thin sheen of sweat despite feeling cold to the point where I was lightly shivering, I didn’t think going out was in my best interest.

Even swinging my legs over the edge of my bed was a struggle. They felt too heavy to maneuver.

Just then, my bedroom door was cracking open—my mother peeking in, dressed in her waitress uniform. “Hey, hun. I’m off to work. You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.” I insisted, voice raspy. Her eyebrows furrowed as she stepped further into my bedroom, coming to stand next to me with a hand on my shoulder.

“Are you sure- Jesus, Y/n, you’re burning up.” She hissed, quickly removing her palm from shoulder and moving it to my forehead, flipping it back and forth to assess my body temperature. “Hold on.”

Then she was stepping back out into the hall where I could hear her rifling through the hallway closet. She re-entered the room seconds later with a thermometer, prompting me to open my mouth as she turned it on and planted it underneath my tongue and I clamped my lips around it.

I felt like a child but I couldn’t care less.

A few moments pass and the device sticking out of my mouth was beeping and I take it out. 102.4. Damn.

“Well, you’re sick alright.” My mother proclaims, taking the small device from my hands. She sighs and runs her hands down her face. “I could call in and stay here if you want? I’m sure-”

“Mom, I’ll be fine. You don’t need to call out of work just because I have a fever, or whatever.” I assured her.

“Are you absolutely positive? I know you haven’t had the best past few weeks lately and-”

“Mom.”

I knew what she getting at. And I’d be lying if I said she was anywhere near wrong. First, JJ breaks up with me out of nowhere after being together for over 2 years—I’m talking no explanation or anything. Having to be around him and act like we were just friends, which I guess now we were, sucked. So, in truth, being sick wasn’t too bad right now.

Then, I get a rejection letter in the mail from one of the colleges I applied to—one of my top choices, at that. Now, I feel like someone ran me over then threw me into an incinerator. I appreciated her concern but I wasn’t on the verge of death, no matter how much I felt like I was. I’d be fine. We needed the money.

“Go to work. I’ll be okay. If I need something, I can call Kie or someone.” I told her with the best smile I could offer. She was still hesitant but she nodded, exiting the room with a ‘love you’. Once I heard the front door close and lock, I let out a soft sigh. Closing my eyes for a few moments to let the pounding in my head subside for a few moments before I had to face the inevitable and get out of bed.

Standing up on shaky legs, the room spun for a moment until it steadied and I was walking—more like dragging myself—out of my bedroom and to the bathroom across the narrow hall.

I opened the mirror cabinet above the sink looking for pain medication until I found it, barely full with maybe a small handful left. Trudging my heavy frame through the hall once again, this time to the kitchen, I poured myself a generous glass of water—with ice because I hated the taste of room temperature water, sick or not.

Taking a sip beforehand for good measure before throwing the tiny tablet back and washing it down. Now, there was nothing I could really do but wait for it to kick in.

A shower could probably help to ease some of the pain, though.

A shower definitely helped. My muscles didn’t feel as sore, either. However, I’m sure that was thanks the medication finally kicking in. I still felt chilly and my throat was definitely still struggling. There was nothing more I could think to do.

So, walking out of the bathroom, steam curling out behind me, I made my way to the living room, grabbing the throw blanket that was slung over the edge of the small couch and plopping down. I just wanted to lay down and get comfy but staying in my room wouldn’t help at all. Plus, I was closer to the kitchen if I got hungry and fairly close to the bathroom if I felt the need to throw up.

Sifting through Netflix, I settled on some show I had passed a few times.

THE third episode of whatever I was watching was starting and so far, I had gotten up to drink some more water—the mere thought of food making my stomach cave in on itself—and took another ibuprofen when I felt my headache making a return. I was reaching for the remote to turn the volume up when the door bell rang.

I groaned, not in the mood to get up. Pausing the show and wrapping the blanket around my shoulders, I rose from the couch and drug myself to the front door.

Upon opening it my eyes went wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“What are you doing here?” I asked the boy standing in my doorway. I truly didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh but I guess the bitterness I’d been hiding since our breakup was crawling to the surface.

I didn’t even notice how dark it had gotten outside, the sun had completely gone down.

“We-uh. You were supposed to meet us at The Chateau but you never showed so…” JJ said nervously, a hand on the back of his neck as he avoided looking me in the eyes.

I had completely disregarded my plans with the Pogues, meaning to tell Kie that I wasn’t feeling well and hoping she’d pass the message along.

However, this was the first time JJ and I had been alone—truly alone since he broke things off. Anytime we saw each other was around the Pogues or at school. We didn’t even text each other separately anymore.

“Guess I just wanted to make sure you were alright…” He trailed off. A gust of cool air swept through my house and it was then that I realized I had him standing outside.

Stepping to the side, I motioned my head for him to come in, an action of which took him by surprise but he accepted the invite nonetheless.

“You could’ve just texted, y’know.” I spoke, closing the door behind him and locking it. “You didn’t have to come all the way over here...” I couldn’t help the judgmental tone of my voice.

Yes, we broke up but I still couldn’t help the dissatisfied feeling in my stomach behind it. JJ never gave me a reason as to why he decided to end our relationship. We were together for a long time and we went through a lot. So for him to break things off on the simple premise of things “not working out” was off-putting for me. Even Kie said that it was kind of a dick move and didn't make sense.

I moved past him to plop back down on the couch, my legs beginning to feel weak the longer I stood. JJ stood awkwardly behind me and though I couldn’t see him, he was practically radiating nervousness. I sighed and turned on the sofa to face him.

“JJ.”

“Hm?”

“Please, sit down somewhere.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He apologized, moving across the screen in front of me to plant himself on the couch, on the other end—as far away from me as possible.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I don’t know why I just didn’t unpause the TV or ask him why he felt the need to come all the way down here but he was the one who came here so I just let him work out whatever he was going to say, if he was going to say anything at all.

“Are you sick?” Was the first thing he said after a couple minutes of radio silence.

“Huh?” I turned my head to the right to face him only to find him already looking at me—the first time he’s actually looked at me since we ended things. I forgot just how it felt to look in his eyes, the way my heart would speed up.

“You look sick. I-I mean, not like you look bad, you just look tired and your nose is kind of red.”

“Uh, yeah. I meant to tell you guys I wasn’t gonna show up. Just slipped my mind, I guess.” I muttered, the raspiness of my voice now accompanied by shakiness from how it felt to actually talk to JJ after weeks of not doing so. It was extremely awkward but I'd be lying if I said I wanted him to leave.

“Did you eat anything?” He inquired hesitantly, genuine concern laced in his tone. I could still feel his gaze on the side of my face since I tore my own away. I shook my head ‘no’ and within seconds he was standing from the couch and disappearing towards the kitchen.

I knitted my eyebrows at the sound of his heavy shoes hitting the floor, a sound I missed dearly when he would come over or stay the night. However, my confusion didn’t subside as I followed after him, finding him opening the cabinet where we kept the canned foods, pulling out a can of soup. “Oh, absolutely not.” I started, shaking my head and walking over to him, blanket still on my shoulders.

I stood in front of him, reaching for the can until he held it above his head and out of my reach. I huffed and leaned against the counter beside me as he raised a brow. "Do you not like this flavor or...?”

“I don’t need your help.”

“It’s just soup.”

“No, it’s not. It’s some kind of…gesture, or something.” I countered weakly.

“I don’t think it is.” He shrugged.

“Well, I do.”

“No, you don’t. You’re just mad at me.”

My jaw dropped slightly, trying to find a response. But he was right. I had no reason to stop him from heating me up a can of fucking soup. I was just pissed. I’m still in love with him and whether he knows it or not, I’m still hurt.

“I have a right to be.” I murmured under my breath, sliding down against the cabinets until I was sitting on floor, legs out in front of me. JJ pulled out a pot and poured the soup in, adding a bit of water since it was condensed and turning on the stove. Once he got it all together, he was sliding down too, except on the opposite side with his feet next my hip.

“I know. I don’t blame you.” He faltered. He sounded sad.

“You never told me why.” I whispered, trying not to strain my voice but also slightly nervous about the conversation that was stirring. JJ sighed a placed a hand on my calf, waiting a moment to see if I’d pull away or brush him off. I didn’t.

“I got scared.” He admitted. His words sent me into a mental spiral—we were together for 2 years, I thought we were way passed the stage of being scared of commitment or whatever. “Stop thinking about it.” He said firmly, seeing the tell-tale signs of my confusion written all over my face. “Just- I know we talked about it before. Commitment, loyalty and all that stuff but when I was talking to John B a while ago, he was saying stuff that just made my head spin.”

“Like?”

“It was nothing bad. Just stuff like, he could see us getting married and having a family and that he didn’t think I had it in me until he saw how I was with you.”

“And that scared you?” I questioned. I couldn’t hide the hurt in my eyes. “The thought of a future with me…scared you?”

“No, no, God no-”

“You’re confusing me, JJ.” I hated how weak I sounded, as if the thought of him not wanting to be with me would be the death of me. But JJ was a huge part of my life whether I liked it or not. He had seen every part of me.

“I’m saying-” He took a deep breath, lifting the hat off of his head to run his fingers through his hair before putting it back down and letting his head fall against the cabinet, looking up at the ceiling. “It was me. I want all of that with you but I’m not sure if I’m cut out for it, y’know? And I know you told me you wanted all of that somewhere down the line but I never thought about it so deeply before. We’re graduating soon and I just never really took the time to think about what would happen once we actually grew up. I probably won’t leave here and lord knows I’m not cut out to be a father-

“Don’t. Don’t even go there. You’re nothing like him, you know that.”

“It’s not that.” He chuckled humorlessly under his breath, head falling back down to look at me. “I ate a moldy sandwich for fucks sake, Y/n.”

That elicited a laugh from me that I couldn’t stop. “Yeah, I was there. I still think about it sometimes. You can be so gross.” I spoke through laughs. When I came down, my eyes met his once again. “But seriously,” I started, my smile dropping slightly. “You could’ve told me. You should have. JJ, if I wasn’t sure that you were what I wanted, I wouldn’t have roped you in with me.”

“You say that I’m what you want but, am I what you deserve?” He questioned, defeated. I could see the tears brimming in his waterline, threatening to spill with one blink.

I don’t know what confidence washed over me but I was suddenly crawling over to him to straddle his waist, making sure to take the blanket around my shoulders with me—the fleece falling over both of us as I cupped his face with both hands and looked him in the eyes. I was mad when he broke up with me and none of that bitterness had dissipated until now, as this beautiful and loving boy sat here and poured out, what I hoped was, the last of his insecurities to me.

A boy who had loved me regardless and only did what he thought would be better for me in the long run. A man who barely received love in his life but was able to give every ounce he had to me. And he was asking if he deserved me?

“JJ, I love you. If anything, I don’t deserve you. With the life you’ve had, you could’ve easily become the biggest asshole this world has ever seen.” He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But you haven't. And so what if you don’t make it out of here? I don’t care. And who says you have to? JJ, you will do something with your life. You didn't even think you'd be graduating but you look at you. You're gonna walk across that stage with all of us. I don’t care whether it’s in the Outer Banks or thousands of miles away from here, you will be amazing. And whenever we get to that point, because we will, you will be an amazing father and husband and whatever else. You’re it for me.”

He stared into my eyes, a lone tear falling down his cheek. And I could see his full expression now, he was so vulnerable. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” I spoke softly, my own eyes beginning to water.

“I still love you, Y/n. And I’m an idiot-”

“No, you’re not. You’re just a big ass softie who sucks at communicating.” I laughed, him joining. Once we quieted down, my hands dropped from his face as one of his came up to cradle my cheek, he was leaning in to kiss me and at the last second I turned so his lips met my cheek.

He pulled back with a look of puzzlement. I shrugged with a shy smile on my face, “I don’t want to get you sick.” JJ rolled his eyes and the hand cradling my cheek moved to grab my jaw, holding it in place as he placed a long and sweet kiss to my lips. God, I missed this feeling. Once, he released my face, he was smiling and his cheeks were pink. “You’re going to get sick.”

“Then I’ll have an excuse for you to take care of me.” He said as he stood up, not moving me from his lap, just holding me close so I wouldn’t fall as he rose from the floor, me wrapping my legs around his waist. He turned to the side so my frame wasn’t blocking his view as he looked at the boiling pot of soup and turned the fire off, my arms around his neck and head leaning towards him. “Who’s the big softie now, huh? You’re clinging to me like a Koala.”

I just shrugged, not bothering to pick my head up from his shoulder to look at him. “You picked me up. It's not like I wasn’t going to stop you.” Just as I said this, he sat me down on the counter to retrieve two bowls to pour the soup into. Pouring it equally and putting spoons into the bowls, he turned around, handing me my bowl with a napkin underneath as barrier between the hot porcelain and my hands and placed his on the counter as he stood next to me.

“Does this mean we’re back together? Because I missed you way too much for this to not mean anything.” I asked timidly, swishing the soup around with the spoon, still not entirely keen on the idea of eating.

JJ paused, letting his spoon fall into the bowl as he stood to his full height once more. He cradled the back of my neck and went in to place a kiss on my forehead. “Wouldn’t dream of it being any other way.”

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #obx fanfiction #obx jj x reader #obx jj maybank #obx netflix

2K notes · View notes

loupy-mongoose · 5 months

Note

Was all of this gallbladder stuff sudden, or is it just sudden for us because you never mentioned anything about a gallbladder removal until recently

I mentioned a few times throughout the first week of Jan. that I was having some tummy issues, but I never really brought it to the spotlight. The most I did was inform you all that I had gotten "sick", and then only a few days ago mentioned my gall bladder.

There is very little way I can call this sudden in general, however.

I'm... actually gonna put this under a read more, because it runs a lot deeper than just these last few weeks... (Kinda turned into a life-story lol)

So, throughout that first week of Jan, I was having off-and-on mild pain. Nothing too intense, and I'd been through it many, many, MANY times before. (Yeah.... MANY.)

I tried to wait it out every time, only going to Doctors twice for it, and it would eventually go away. I would be careful with my eating afterword (based on past experiences, not any research or knowledge) and eventually I'd be back to normal for the time being.

The time between spells varied. Sometimes it was only months, sometimes it was almost a year. I don't think I ever went beyond a year with no spell, but I can't remember.

This started about

TEN

YEARS

ago.

If each episode has been a pancreatitis attack, then I consider it no small miracle that I'm as good off as I am.

I went to the Doctor once for it as a youth, and they gave me some kind of IBS or other pill for bloating. They did nothing to help, and I didn't pursue any more doctor visits about it until '22.

That time the pain didn't go away for many days, and it got incredibly incapacitating. So I went to the Doctor (completely different one from the first--we'd moved states.) I got some imaging done and they found Pancreatitis and Colitis. They gave me antibiotics and sent me home to recover.

But they didn't finds gallstones.

So I recovered and felt armed to better handle these pain episodes--Just limit my consumption to liquids.

Well, I was doing alright until now.

We had... a V E R Y fatty Christmas dinner, and I was grazing off of the worst of it the following week.

Then, come New Year's Eve, I start to feel that little ache. I... I ignored it, and ate some of the goodies we'd prepared for the night, a little more reserved about it than I normally would've been. Eating has always been one of my absolute favorite parts of that time of year, and I didn't want to let my potential stomach issue completely ruin it for me.

I'm actually surprised by how mild the pain was at first, given all the nasty stuff I'd been eating.

Anyway, that mild pain subsided, and I foolishly let myself eat some more leftover goodies, thinking I was being careful. And of course, it came back.

This went on through the week, with me gradually being more and more careful about what I ate, trying to eat more stomach-bug friendly foods like crackers and toast.

A night finally came where it was so irritating that I threw up. That night it instantly made me feel better. I still increased my carefulness in consumption the following day, taking in nothing but a couple cups each of Pedialyte and chicken broth.

But still it came back. And that was the night it got bad.

I threw up a couple more times that night, and instead of helping this time... the second time left me in a lot of pain. So much that it was uncomfortable to breathe. Uncomfortable to do anything.

Thankfully my dad didn't have work that night (he works overnights), so we ultimately decided at about 6 am to take me to the emergency room.

There they found the gallstones and got blocking ones out of the way, and I spent the following week recovering in the hospital.

It seems most likely that gallstones have been the offender all these years, but the symptoms never quite matched that. I remember once looking into Pancreatitis and seeing that the symptoms matched that pretty well, but never let gallstones settle as an option.

Anyway, I guess I can at least say I have some closure after all this time. It'll be good to finally be free from this plague!

#violetjazz25 #ask #peek behind the Loupy curtain lol #Somehow I doubt you all needed to hear all that.#But I dunno--I just felt like telling it.

84 notes · View notes

smartycvnt · 1 year

Text

Seasick

Pairing: Arthur Curry x Reader

Prompt: "I'm pregnant."

WC: 992

You stood on the beach watching as the sun rose in front of you. Arthur was supposed to have come and gotten you nearly an hour ago, but you didn't mind the moment to yourself. There was a lot going on in your head that you had to sort out. Today you had been promised that he wouldn't have any Aquaman duties. You were excited to have him all to yourself. It was hard not being able to venture down to Atlantis with him whenever he went, but you couldn't complain too much. You felt lucky enough that he had picked you over Mera. You felt even luckier that she seemed to not mind. She had been the one teaching you all about Atlantean culture because even if the people would never get to meet you, you were still their queen.

"Sorry that I'm late," Arthur apologized as he jogged through the sand to meet you. You smiled softly as he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek. "Everything is squared away, and you are officially stuck with me for the next 48 hours."

"Two whole days, I'm impressed," you joked. Arthur put his arm around you and walked you back over to the docks where the houseboat was waiting. The two of you were going to head up to visit his parents, and you knew that you had to tell him what was going on with you before then. It wasn't often that his mom came to visit you, but the last time she had when he was away dealing with Atlantis drama, she had very quickly figured out that you were pregnant. You didn't want her to accidentally tell him, so you promised that the next time you had some time with Arthur, you'd tell him exactly what was going on.

You hadn't planned on it taking literal weeks for the two of you to get some time together, but you weren't complaining. Arthur almost always brought you up to Maine whenever the two of you had time together, and while it was nice, you weren't used to the climate. You were very much a southern girl. You had grown up on the South Carolina coast your entire life in a beach town. Arthur had quite literally washed up there a little over a couple years ago, which was when the two of you had started hooking up. He swore the two of you weren't officially together or anything up until about six months ago, and since then, he tried popping up every few days to see you.

"Shit," you swore as your stomach lurched. You hadn't eaten anything because you knew that morning sickness was a bitch. Arthur glanced over at you with a look of concern on his face. You had taken this trip with him so many times and never gotten seasick before. If you barfed now, he would absolutely know that something was up.

"Are you okay?" Arthur asked. He tried to seem nonchalant, but the man was not very good at being subtle. You grit your teeth and nodded, not trusting yourself to open your mouth. "You can go lay down if you aren't feeling well. I'll call up ahead and let my dad know, he can make some soup for you."

"I honestly don't think I can eat anything," you said. Everything you had eaten for the past week had come back up. You had tried eating things that you didn't usually to see if your regular diet was the problem, but it seemed that the baby inside of you didn't like anything. "Were you a picky eater as a kid?"

"Eh, I mean not any more than a normal kid I guess. I mostly ate a lot of fish, which makes sense. Kind of all they've got in the ocean," Arthur laughed. You pinched the bridge of your nose. Your parents had owned a seafood restaurant whenever you were younger, so you had very quickly gotten sick of the taste and smell of fish. If it wasn't for your love of the ocean, you would have moved to the desert or something as soon as you could. "Are you sure that you're okay? You look a little green."

"It's just seasickness," you told him. Arthur laughed at that, knowing it was a blatant lie. "Do you have any Sprite?"

"Um, you'll have to check the cooler. Are you sure there's not something else going on with you? You let Mera take you out on the jet ski without getting sick, so I doubt you're actually seasick. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were pregnant." Arthur meant it as a joke, but he hit it right on the nose.

"I am, uh, pregnant Arthur," you told him.

"What now?"

"I'm pregnant," you said. He was shocked into silence, which was something that you had never experienced before. Arthur didn't seem upset, but you could see the tears in the corners of his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Great, actually. This is just a lot to think about. How would you feel about moving up to Maine? I'd move down here for you, but I was just thinking that my mom would be less prone to show up out of nowhere if we were up there. People kind of have a tendency of freaking out when she washes up on the beach," Arthur said. You laughed a little, remembering the last few times she had just shown up outside of your condo building on the beach. You understood where Arthur got his thing for attention grabbing entrances from. "You're going to have a baby. We're gonna have parents."

"We are," you said, unable to keep the smile out of your voice. You had been sort of scared that Arthur wouldn't have time for you anymore because of the baby, but was definitely leaning into excitement about being a dad.

#arthur curry x reader #aquaman x reader #dceu x reader #dceu #aquaman #arthur curry #my writing

651 notes · View notes

gatitties · 6 months

Text

Mute: O2. Friends!

O1. Flowers / O2. Friends! / O3. Study / O4. Ice-cream / O5. Sick / O6. Locked up / O7. Fight / O8. Friends? / O9. Grateful / 1O. Wishes

You told your clubmates about what happened the other day, skipping the part where you got lost of course, they recognized the boy as Satori Tendou or as they called him 'guess monster'. You thought they exaggerated when they told you that it was better to stay away from him because he had a bad reputation, but you refused knowing that he could not be as they describe him, that is to say, it did cause you fear to know that he was able to literally read your mind but he did not look like a monster as others describe it.

You had a strange feeling in your body, you hadn't seen him for a couple of days and you had the need to do it without knowing why, maybe you were simply excited to know that you could 'talk' to someone without the need to specify your mobile device or pocket notebook, it was a pleasant surprise for you to know that he understood you perfectly. That's why you were standing at the door of the gym where you were warned not to go so as not to communicate with the redhead, plus you were also told that the volleyball team was scary, refusing to judge them, you opened the doors without making a sound.

As silent as ever you climbed into the stands unseen, leaning on the railing to watch the players. You recognized the copper-haired boy in your class; Kenjiro Shirabu, you hadn't really communicated much with him, you only knew his name and that he was someone quite salty with people. Your gaze swept past the stoic boy accompanying Tendou to one with a cut like a bowl.

Most of the practice you observed how they repeated some plays many times, they got to you excited when they nailed a shot strongly making a dull noise, if you were not mute surely they would have heard you gasp in surprise at their movements. You waited for most of them to leave so you could leave without being seen, you wanted to talk to Tendou but you didn't think that he wouldn't want to or that he already had other plans that you weren't in, that's why you tried to escape, and again, as you are you, what you want never happens. You were about to cross the door when a hand rested on your shoulder, you got a little scared by the unexpected but you regained your composure to turn to face your captor.

"What are you doing here?"

Straight to the point, Shirabu was not going to waste any time, you sighed to grab your phone quickly typing your answer.

«I was just watching, sorry to interrupt, I'm leaving»

"Watching? Are you interested in joining as a manager or something?"

Even being a rather sarcastic and moody boy, the idea of having a club manager caused him emotion. You denied breaking his little happiness, with a clumsy smile you bowed apologetically, you hurried out of there unmolested but he grabbed you again. You sighed to turn around again.

«Tendou!»

Without realizing the presence of the boy painted a nice smile on your face, getting infected by your smile, he greet you with his hand asking you what you were doing there. You wouldn't admit you were there for him so you just said you were curious because people were talking about the team a lot.

"So you've been watching our practice?"

«Yeah! It's amazing, the way you hit the ball, how they receive it, they place it and the coolest thing is when it falls on the ground making that noise POW! against the ground looks so exciting! In addition, the dark-haired boy tries so hard that it makes me want to play»

Tendou laughed, you blushed embarrassed for having thought too much about how great they were, he didn't blame you, you could never express yourself properly and now that you could 'speak' it felt so good that you wanted to do it for hours without stopping.

"Tendou, you have to keep cleaning."

The captain scolded him, although he didn't pay much attention, you had to help him to finish, you apologized to Ushijima when you found out his name and he didn't care, the redhead used to sneak away from his work often.

"Don't you want to join us?"

You looked at him strangely as he pointed to four guys behind him; Shirabu, Ushijima, the boy with the bowl haircut and another one who had gray hair with dark tips. You pointed to yourself as a question and he nodded, insecure you decided to deny when you saw how they approached but it was too late.

"Guys! She will join us today."

«I didn't even answer you»

He chuckled at you, ran a hand through his long hair to reply nonchalantly.

"Come on, it will be fun, you can make more friends."

«Friends? You want to be my friend?»

At this point you didn't know if you were more excited than him, he shrugged, hiding his smile.

"We're friends, right? Plus I know you'd like to see the training again."

Instinctively you grabbed his hands looking at him with determination, taking him by surprise, you nodded vigorously while flashes were seen in your eyes. He just smiled at your actions, patting you on the head.

"What do you say Tendou?"

You both looked at the grey-haired boy who seemed just as intrigued as the other three, Tendou smiled proudly again, he put an arm around your shoulders.

"Yeah, you know, she really loves to see us practice, especially the auctions of our future ace."

«Hey! Don't say that like that, it's embarrassing» You only made him laugh more «Do not laugh!»

"I-I'm not laughing"

He put a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing.

«Moron...»

"That mouth!"

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly, laughing quietly.

"Were you... were you talking or something?"

#mute fanfic #tendou #tendou satori #tendou satori x reader #mute reader #fem reader #x reader #shiratorizawa #shiratorizawa x reader #tendou fanfic #reader insert #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x fem reader #sfw

119 notes · View notes

kanmom51 · 1 year

Text

JK's Weverse live 2 Feb 2023

OMG OMG OMG.

JK man, what did you do to us?

4 hours of JK. 4 friggin' hours.

Before I dive into the abyss I will say that this post is based on multiple trustworthy translation accounts, seeing there is no official translation nor will there be for quite some time now (4 hr. live, lol). I will update if any changes need to be made (after the official translation comes out).

Also, This is a long ass post, so breach yourselves, get yourselves your favourite snacks sit down and enjoy the ride. So so much to come.

Starting with his:

Knock knock, cheeky JK.

Let's sum up the 4 hours of the live shall we:

JK did the live in Brunnan.

JK's hair is long.

JK loves Bammi.

JK talked about his tattoos.

JK drank more beer than I could ever in one seating. Or maybe even 2 or 3 or 4...(I am a lightweight though).

JK was tired and still continued the live.

JK isn't working on his album at the moment, he's at home not doing much, well not working in any case.

RM commented a lot.

Tae commented a lot and got JK to do a live on IG that turned out to be pretty short, just surpassing his 7 min. live a few days back.

JK sang. A LOT.

JK sang Vibe. Twice. After calling JM cool, then adding Taeyang is cool too. He also gave us a little dance move.

Ooh, and we got JK singing Sam Smith's Unholy.

That's 4 hours in a nut shell I guess.

End of post.

Nah, gotcha.

We have tons to cover, so let's get it:

JK starts the live telling us he's not really supposed to be doing a live, I told you, cheeky boy.

Lol.

JK moves on to tell us he's not working on his album at the moment, and actually not doing much of anything at the moment.

I'm all for it. After 10 years of working practically non stop, throughout his youth, he deserves this time off.

JK does say he's spending time alone, at times hasn't left the house for 6 days in a row.

And as the introvert that he is, and as the introvert that I am, I get him. Totally. I could stay at home for days and feel totally content.

Doesn't mean he's not doing anything though. He's doing what he wants to do as opposed as living by a schedule. Taking the time to watch shows, videos, clips he wants to watch is one of those things he told us he does. I just do hope he's in a good mind space. The past couple of years were not easy. The not knowing not easy. Knowing MS is around the corner not easy. Jikook having to adjust to the new reality not easy. He needs this rest and I'm happy he's getting it.

Makes me think though about those stories told of him going out on the town like going skiing or snowboarding or spending time with Tae all the time (I literally have an ask in my inbox telling me just that). Dunno, perhaps it's time for many to finally start questioning these unsubstantiated stories?

Now don't come at me. Not saying JK and Tae aren't close friends. They might be both meeting up occasionally and/or playing online games together all day everyday. What I'm saying is that I'm sick of unsubstantiated stories someone sprouts on Twitter turned into facts without any actual proof.

And it's always the TKK side of things - believing until proven wrong. Because when the shoe is on the other foot, aka JKK, the knee jerk reaction is to not believe until proven true.

Just a thought...

After JK talks about how long his hair has grown, and damn, it has grown so long, Bam makes an appearance. Bammi. How we missed him so.

I truly think Bam deserves a whole post of his own, and I will give you one. I promise. Cause so many cute Bamkook moments, including a lethal Bam kiss.

JK's asked about Jin and says he thinks he's doing well and that he's in touch with them occasionally in their group chat. That same group chat many fans forget they actually have to communicate amongst themselves and not via their public IG accounts. That is when they don't communicate personally with each other privately.

JK brings up not seeing "Yoongi marry me".

Vibe.

Next JK started with the karaoke. We got to enjoy JK's flawless voice throughout his live. But he started us off with Vibe.

JK singing and dancing vibe on his live - all I've been living for the past couple of weeks, lol - singing it TWICE.

youtube

This too deserves a whole separate post, and it probably will get one.

Saying that, JK with singing Vibe (do I have to remind he did it twice?) has now performed 7 of JM's songs while live or recording content.

JK continues to sing several songs by TXT, New Jeans, Seventeen, RM, etc. Like I said, karaoke night full blow (filling up the 4 hour live).

A list of his songs throughout the live can be found here:

JK was asked if he has a tattoo on his back, to which he said he doesn't, only on his right arm.

We had a little JK-Army flirtation going on, as per usual, lol.

Mr. Jeon Jungkook also thinks maybe he's the next to get appendicitis. I sure hope he's wrong.

And that at 25 yo he's getting old.- everything hurts. Why am I not surprised (man cannot do anything half way).

RM popped in to visit JK's live, a little drunk perhaps, lol.

And JK...

Next comes the thing everyone has been literally waiting for...

The tattoos.

I know this will be twisted and turned and I feel sorry for the accounts with their anons open, cause this, not surprisingly, is turning into to a shit storm...

There are a few translations out there, most not full ones, and others pretty unreliable.

So, I'm still on the lookout for a reliable full translation for these. I've found a couple that feel like they have an agenda.

I did find this one, a full translation that seems to be more or less on the up and up - lines up with all the bits and pieces I've found in the accounts I do trust.

youtube

One specific tattoo JK neglects to talk about is the eclipse tattoo. Unintentional you think? I think not.

So, let's get down to what we really came for, eh? His hand tattoo. The talk of the town.

I know JK said the J is for JK. JK and Army.

Loud and clear, right?

But is it?

Is JK sharing the whole story with us?

Why then on the ring finger?

Why over the M?

Why not allow anything come between the two?

Also funny, as @jaksal pointed out, how for JM's birthday in 2021 for some reason the J and M were kept apart, distanced, quite like the J and M on JK's finger. Apart but not parted (mostly).

Another question I can't help but ask is since when does J stand for JK? Really. Please tell me when was the first or last time JK ever referred to himself as J.

Jungkook calls himself JK. He is referred to by others as JK. When he writes his name in Roman letters he writes JK. Never J.

On top of that, why not put the J over the A? Would make more sense, J + Army from the start...

And if he decided to put the crown over the A, which he did, then why not put the J over any other finger other than the actual ring finger that happened to make a lovely clear and constantly touched up and darkened JM?

Could JK share the whole story with us even if he really wanted to?

JK in essence debunked the story that Army were living for since 2019 - that Army with the J stood for all the 7 members of BTS. The A inverted standing for V.

Yes, he said the J is for JK, but could he say he added the J on his ring finger over the M to make JM? The only one out of all of the members he decided to tattoo onto his skin, have on his hand for all to see?

Telling us J over the M on his ring finger stood for JM would be literally outing the two as a queer couple. No ifs ands or buts.

And you can't say the same about him telling us army is army. Because admitting army was for all the members wouldn't put him in a queer relationship with one of the members, all while having JM on his ring finger would seal the deal on that.

So what did JK do talking about his tattoos? He omitted the JM, and the eclipse - the two specific known tattoos that can link him directly to JM (and if the eclipse had nothing to do with JM why not talk about it too?).

Oh, and I know what comes next -

Being asked "are you calling him a liar?"

Heck no.

But telling a necessary untruth, or embellishing the truth, or omitting some facts, or perhaps the right way of seeing it is giving us the acceptable excuse.

Nope. Not lying. But all the above... yeah, that.

Seriously, take a second to think clearly. What was he supposed to do? Really? Admit that the J and M are connected and mean JM?

I've been seeing people talking about how JK didn't realise what he was doing. That he didn't see the placement came out like JM. Please give me a break. Do they really have such low regard for JK?

The man that came up with this:

Wouldn't realise the J placed over the M makes JM - Jimin. Ha-ha-ha.

With or without the next paragraph, JK knew what he was doing.

But if we do trust this specific translation, JK points out that he placed the crown over the A. Thoughtfully. Intentionally. Do we really think he wouldn't have had the same thought process with the J?

Please don't insult JK's intelligence.

And if you wonder what K-JKKs are thinking:

And being harassed and bullied and bad mouthed for speaking their minds. How familiar...

Oh, and just in case we forgot, during the live JK made sure we'll remember how he refers to Jimin... starting to actually say the actual name and then intentionally changing it up to JM. See for yourselves.

youtube

And if you are even interested to know what my 21 yo army non Jikooker daughter's reaction was to the whole Army and J tattoo explanation (you're getting either way)...same daughter that told me the army stood for all members and we argued about it many a times.

You know what she said to me?

"Well, what do you expect him to say? That it's JM? Of course he can't say that".

EXACTLY!!

He can't say it.

So, if I haven't made myself clear by now I'll say it once more with feeling:

The combination of the J and the M on JK's ring finger stands for JM.

Again, I don't think JK is lying. But he's omitting.

The J could definitley be there to not only mean JM but him as well, which would make it even more romantic, if you will. The J and the M, JK and JM marked on his ring finger. If that's not commitment idk what is.

Then Tae joined the fun.

So, JK started the live.

Full untranslated live here (couldn't find a reliable translated one on YT just yet):

youtube

JK getting up mid live, to get something?

comes back and still talk for a few minutes, to each other (?) and that's it.

Not much was going on there.

Not gonna say the D (disconnected) word, cause y'all gonna come down my throat.

What was kind of obvious is that no, they no bumping knees. Two mates talking. To each other, next to each other, sometimes the first, sometimes the other.

When you are asking to have a live but then reduced to play with the filters cause the convo, it just ain't flowing, all to end the live after around 10 minutes (I think only around half of that was them talking to each other)...

I'd say reach your own conclusions.

The apartment

Before moving on let's talk a little about the apartment shall we?

We know who is on the lease of Brunnan.

We know it's furnished with some of the dorm's furniture (I'm not 100% sure, but that lounge sure looked like the dorm lounge).

Walls bare.

Clothes rack empty.

What looked like his coat maybe lying on the lounge next to him.

This time he was prepared with a chilled beer glass (after the tea cup wine drinking debacle, lol).

Let's get real here.

Could he be living there? Sure he could. Spending days on end in a bare, cold, lifeless apartment with zero character.

Could he be living elsewhere, let's say somewhere where we aren't even shown anything other than the tv screen? Sure he could. But not on paper. Not officially.

Could two grown men that literally aren't allowed to be in a queer relationship starting the second they enlist need to have official/public known separate addresses, and perhaps there is another place, kept secret, where they can spend most of their time together their privacy guaranteed? Knowing there are still queer couples in SK that live that way, my answer to that will be yes.

Do we know for sure? Heck no. And that, my friends, is the whole idea. We're not supposed to know, as much as our curiosity kills us.

Just a couple of more things and we're done. Phew...

We had this:

JK likes cute

Just in case we weren't aware of it, once again JK confirms that his type is cute. Since forever.

Cute has JK giggling.

youtube

Cute has JK drooling.

youtube

Another one that deserves it's very own post. So much to do...

Note to self: you asked for Jikook content, don't complain now that you got some.

Sam Smith's Unholy

I'm going to end this long ass post with some JK singing and dancing to Sam Smith's Unholy.

youtube

Because how better to end this with a diva JK?

youtube

Of course he'll know the choreo.

#Jungkook #JK #Jungkook Wlive #JK Wlive #JK live #Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jimin #JM #Youtube

401 notes · View notes

whiskey-tango-matcha · 8 months

Text

Thanks (m, cold)

Hi guys, thank you again for voting on which scenario you wanted to see for this fic! It's a bit of a slow burn, and idk how I feel about the ending, but Elijah is staunchly miserable by the end so hopefully that makes y'all happy 😅 let me know if you like it 🫶

Ps I've been writing this for literally the past 12 hours so I cannot look at it anymore, I'll read it over and edit errors in the morning but I need to get it out before it drives me insane lmao. 5.5k words under the cut :)

CW: male snz, colds, coughing, fever, contagion

There was nothing quite as depressing, Elijah decided, as the days leading up to Thanksgiving dinner service in a restaurant. Well, unless you were Greyson.

“Goooood morning, boss! Two days til the Big Day; are you pumped?”

Elijah turned his chair slowly towards the door, where the chef stood grinning unironically. He thought, not for the first time, that Greyson was likely some sort of dog in a past life – a golden retriever, or possibly a lab. One of those ‘no thoughts, just vibes’ dogs.

“Am I pumped?” Elijah asked, glaring at Greyson. “For a day that should be spent drinking shitty beer and eating my weight in carbs spent instead putting on a fake smile for people who don’t even think of us as human? For people who go out to eat literally once a year, and make sure they do it on a holiday so they can feel powerful by forcing a restaurant to serve them, then complain about the price and stiff my servers? Am I pumped to barely break even, even though the restaurant will be packed from ten am until close, because those same people staunchly refuse to pay more than eighty bucks a head to stuff themselves silly? Am I pumped to listen to my staff complain all day, despite the fact that when each of them was hired, they were told in no uncertain terms that they would be working holidays?” Elijah clicked his pen closed loudly, stood to let Greyson through, and sat with him in tandem, his face set in anger the whole time. “No, Grey. I am not, in fact, pumped.”

Greyson broke their eye contact to wake his computer, the lecture obviously unexpected. “Clearly I should’ve read the room before opening my mouth,” he said, glancing back over at his boss briefly. “My bad, boss.”

Elijah, embarrassed that he’d let himself sink into such a state about something as stupid as a holiday service, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Fuck. Sorry, Grey. You just caught me at a bad moment. I had two servers call out for today, I’m fuckin’ sweating because we really need everyone here for Thursday and neither of them are sure they’ll be good to come back in two days.”

“Hmm,” Greyson hummed, his eyebrows threading together. “That’s weird. I had Victor and Elise call out on my way in.”

Elijah felt his heart thump in his temple. “Did they say why?”

“I didn’t ask,” Greyson said, turning his chair to face his boss. “But I guess I should’ve. Did the servers say why they couldn’t come in?”

“Some sort of fever-cold thing, is what Jason said he had. Ashley just said she felt like shit.” Elijah pressed his fingers into his eye and sighed. “I need a cigarette. Care to join?”

Greyson, never one to turn down nicotine in any form, stood from his chair. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said.

The two of them walked through the empty kitchen in silence, Elijah entirely too wrapped in his own thoughts to continue their conversation. There was an ongoing joke, a trope, at this point, about holidays in the restaurant; everyone was always sick for them. Last Easter, the servers all had bronchitis, and a couple of Valentine’s days ago, Greyson had so many cooks call out with the stomach flu that they’d had to hire last-minute temps to fill in on the line. Despite doing nearly 300 covers, they barely made enough to cover the immense labor that seven temps on a holiday cost.

“Lij,” Greyson said as the two of them stepped out the back door and sat on the milk crates littering the loading dock, “it’s not going to be like Valentine’s. I can see your fuckin’ gears turning.” The chef pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, handed his boss one, and lit them both up. “Relax.”

Silence, once again, fell upon them as they smoked and watched fat snowflakes disintegrate on the asphalt. Elijah hoped that Greyson was right, that everything would be fine and he was overreacting – but he knew better than to hope. More likely than not, it was going to be what it always was on holidays: a shit show.

Matt and Mark, hand-in-hand until they spotted their bosses by the door, turned the corner and waved to their counterparts in tandem like well-trained circus animals. Elijah couldn’t help but smile as their fingers unwove from one another.

“Morning,” Elijah called, stubbing out his cigarette. Greyson did the same, and the two of them stood to let the younger men into the building.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Mark asked rubbing his hands together as he pushed the door open. Elijah shrugged as he held the door open for the other two and walked in behind them.

“My rage keeps me warm,” he said, prompting a laugh from Greyson and an eye roll from the younger men. “How’re you guys?”

Mark shot a look at Matt as they all walked towards the office at the front of the kitchen. “I’m well,” he said, pointedly. Elijah nearly stopped in his tracks when he glimpsed Matt glaring at his boyfriend.

“Matt…?” Greyson asked, an attempt at giving his sous chef a get-out-of-jail-free card. There was silence as the three of them turned, expectantly, towards Matt.

“I’mb good,” the sous said, his voice cracking on the second syllable. Elijah audibly groaned, Mark winced, and Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity.

“Well, you certainly sound great,” Greyson said, palming Matt’s shoulder aggressively. “Would you like to go home and sleep that off?”

“Yes, he -”

“Ndo,” Matt said, cutting Mark off and shooting him a look. “I wandt to help prep.I’mb – hh! hh’NGTSH-uh!” Matt turned and pulled his coat up over the bottom half of his face to sneeze, then quickly gathered himself and stood up straight. “I’mb fine,” he said, convincing no one.

Elijah closed his eyes briefly and sighed through his nose; fortunately or unfortunately, he knew exactly why Matt hadn’t called off.

The week prior, Elijah and Greyson had dolled out raises and bonuses for the staff; this year was Matt’s fifth as sous chef. Greyson had basically written a dissertation of why his sous chef should be given a new title – Executive Sous – along with a significant raise and bonus. It hadn’t taken much convincing; Elijah knew exactly how hard Matt worked, and staying at the same restaurant as a sous chef for five years was nearly unheard of in this city, especially for someone as young as Matt. He and Greyson had agreed that Matt’s loyalty to the restaurant deserved to be compensated, and had surprised him before his day off with the new title and pay.

Matt had been surprised – shocked was probably a better word for it, honestly – and had confided in Elijah after Greyson had dipped early to meet up with a date that he felt like he didn’t deserve the raise.

“You do,” Elijah had said, laughing lightly. “We wouldn’t have given it to you if you didn’t deserve it.”

The younger man had shaken his head. “I just… I mean, Greyson is here way more than me. I get two days off mostly, and he doesn’t let me work longer than ten hours. And I love it here, you guys don’t need to, like, worry about me leaving if that’s what this is about.”

Elijah had given Matt a confused look. “Greyson should be here more than you, first of all he’s a partner, not just the chef, and secondly, he gets paid very well to be here eighty hours a week. That’s his choosing. You’re his employee – if you were here as much as he was and getting paid significantly less, that wouldn’t be fair. And we’re glad you love it here, but that’s not why we gave you the raise. We gave it to you because you’re a hard worker, and you deserve to be compensated for what you do.” Elijah had smiled at Matt, patted his knee, and finished with, “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Matt had just smiled back and nodded, but Elijah knew he hadn’t changed his mind about ‘being undeserving’. Elijah knew, via background checks that were performed by his off-site HR company, and via Mark being a blabbermouth the second he got a glass of wine in him, that Matt had been a bit of a troubled kid; he’d been bounced from one foster home to another as a kid, and then one juvenile detention hall to another as a teenager. Only when he’d dropped out of high school and gotten a job as a dishwasher at a Denny’s did he finally decide it was time to shape up. He’d worked his way into the diner’s kitchen, then a slightly nicer kitchen, and when he was 20, he’d shown up at the front door of Elliot’s in an ill-fitting suit with a speech about how he was ready to work somewhere that he could hone his passion, even if they couldn’t pay him a dime. Greyson had hired him on the spot, not even consulting Elijah, despite only having been the executive chef for a few months.

Elijah knew Matt felt that he owed Greyson, not the other way around, and this promotion and raise was the nail in that coffin of doubt. He knew there was no way Matt would go home, no matter how shitty he felt.

Greyson just shrugged at his sous chef’s denial of being sick. “If you want to stay, I’m not going to make you leave,” he said, walking into the office and changing from his sweatshirt into his chef’s coat. “Just don’t sneeze on the food.”

Matt rolled his eyes and stripped off his jacket to put his own chef’s coat on. “Yes, Chef,” he said, coughing into his elbow. Mark and Elijah exchanged sidelong looks.

“Are you feeling okay?” Elijah asked his junior manager. Mark smirked, hiked his laptop bag further onto his shoulder, and started towards the dining room – his makeshift office.

“Never better, boss,” he said, pushing through the swinging doors. “Never better.”

***

“So, is he coming in tomorrow?”

Greyson lolled his head to the side, hands still on his keyboard, and deadpanned Elijah. “The fuck do you think?”

Elijah pulled a hand down his face and nodded. “Yeah, okay, just wanted to check.”

While Matt had been relatively fine the first few hours of the shift, by the time the last guests had eaten, the sous had been so staunchly miserable that Greyson had marched his ass into the office, thrown his jacket over his shoulders, and pointed towards the back door. “Go. Home. Now.”

“Chef, I – HTSHH! Hh-! GTSH-uh!” Matt wrenched to the side, collapsing into a post-sneeze coughing fit that made the cooks flinch from five yards away.

“You’re not fine,” Greyson insisted. “You’re sick, and you’re going to get everyone else sick.”

Matt nodded, miserable, and hung his head. “Sorry, Chef,” he muttered, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Go,” Greyson said. “And come back when you’re well.”

Mark had taken Matt home in an Uber, and the cooks and servers had been able to leave relatively early, which left Elijah, Greyson, and a bottle of whiskey between them on the desk to figure out how they were going to handle the rest of the week.

Greyson sighed and reached for the bottle as he pushed away from his computer screen. He took a long pull and handed the bottle to Elijah, who followed suit. “I just… I don’t understand why he’d come in that sick,” Greyson said, pulling his hair to the top of his head and securing it with a rubber band from their drawer of office supplies. Elijah had to pull the bottle away from his lips to laugh. “What?” Greyson asked.

“You, of all people, can’t understand why he came in sick?” Elijah asked, incredulous. “You?”

“What do you mean me?” Greyson asked, snatching the bottle back. “If anything, he learned it from watching you.”

“Oh, spare me, Greyson,” Elijah rolled his eyes. “For awhile there, you literally came in sick three weeks a month.”

Greyson scoffed. “At least I’ve never passed out on the kitchen floor.”

“Yes, you have.”

“No, I almost passed out. You actually fuckin’ swooned. Collapsed in a puddle. Full damsel in distress.” Greyson took another pull and placed the bottle back on the desk. “So don’t come for me unless I send for you.”

Elijah guffawed at this. “Who taught you that saying?” he asked. Greyson shrugged.

“I heard one of the servers using it. I like it.”

“The servers are twenty years old, you dinosaur. The last thing they want is Grandpa Greyson using their jargon.”

“Fuck off, if anyone here is a grandpa it’s…” Greyson stopped suddenly, held up a finger, let his eyes flutter shut, then let out a shaky breath. “Fuck, that’s annoying.” He rubbed his nose on the back of his hand, then raised an eyebrow at his boss, whose face had drawn into concern. “What?”

“What was that?” Elijah asked, glancing over at the bottle of whiskey they’d spent the past hour sharing.

“I just thought I was going to – oh,” Greyson’s eyes widened. “No, dude, relax, I’m totally fine. I feel great.”

“‘Buzzed’ and ‘great’ are two different things, Grey,” Elijah said. He reached up to feel Greyson’s forehead, prompting the chef to lean back in his chair.

“Great as in healthy,” he insisted, shooing Elijah’s hand away. “Seriously, I’d let you know if I – HRRTSHHH-ue!” He caught the sneeze in his elbow – barely – and choked back an irritated cough. From the crook of his arm, he heard Elijah swear.

“I’m going to end your fuckin’ life, I swear to God,” Elijah muttered, pushing the bottle further onto Greyson’s side of the desk. “You let me drink from the same bottle as you, you dick.”

“I’m fine, Elijah, Christ it was one sneee – hh! - hh…” Greyson tipped his head back in anticipation, then lowered and shook it when the feeling once again dissipated. “See? Totally fine.” He sniffled – convincing, Grey – and immediately changed course. “Plus, it’s alcohol. It’s an antiseptic.”

“It one million percent is not,” Elijah said, rubbing his temples in defeat. “Greyson, you cannot be sick. We cannot be sick. How the hell are we going to be able to run Thanksgiving?”

“Elijah,” Greyson said, “listen. I am fine. Everything is going to be just fi – ITSHH-ue!” Greyson pitched forward into his palm and cringed. Elijah, begrudgingly, slammed the box of tissues they kept on a side table in front of the chef.

“Bless you,” he said while Greyson cleaned himself up. “And, I mean this from the bottom of my heart: fuck. You.”

***

“Hhh-! Huh… hnnn.”

“Bless you.”

“Oh, screw you, Lij,” Greyson muttered for the millionth time that day. He grabbed what felt like his hundredth tissue and blew his nose – only for the feeling to reignite. “Huhhh! Hhh...hh… guhh.” Greyson rubbed his nose again and angrily spiked the tissue into the trash can beneath his prep station.

“Bless you,” Elijah said again, mocking.

“You kndow,” Greyson said, turning towards his boss, who was seated in the office, not looking Greyson’s way. “Karma is going to combe for you for being an asshole to mbe.”

At this, Elijah glanced towards Greyson. “Karma? No, karma is having a cold and not being able to sneeze because you let your friend drink out of the same bottle as you when you knew you were getting sick. That’s karma, and you got what was coming to you.”

“Fuuhhh! Huh! Hh...fuck,” Greyson grumbled, coughing into his shoulder.

“Karma is also giving your sous chef a lecture about being sick at work, only to be get sick and have to come into work because you’re technically the most well of all the sick cooks and chefs.”

“Are you finished?” Greyson asked, throwing his hands in the air. “I get it. And to be fair, I did ndot kndow I was getting sick.” The chef sucked in painfully through his nose and collapsed into coughs once again.

“Mmhmm,” Elijah mumbled. When it seemed like Greyson wasn’t going to be able to stop the coughing, he took pity and got up to make the chef tea.

“Here,” Elijah said, slamming a paper cup in front of Greyson. “Drink it. Sickie.”

Greyson, unable to come up with a proper comeback, just did as he was told. “How mbany on the books tonight?” he croaked. Elijah sighed, pulled up his phone, and slid it towards Greyson. “Fuck,” Greyson said when he saw the number.

“All the people in the city who aren’t coming in tomorrow decided tonight was the night, apparently,” Elijah said, taking his phone back and putting it in his pocket. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, in earnest.

Greyson nodded. “It’s ndot too bad,” he said, taking another sip of tea. “Just wish I could fuckigg sndeeze.”

Elijah huffed out a laugh. “You’re sure you don’t want to call Matt in?”

“Definitely no – hh! Huh...hhhITSHHHZUE! Oh thank fuckigg God – HUHHESTCH-ue! Hh! Hnn...HuhhhETSCHH-ue! HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah whistled, long and low, and pushed the box of tissues towards Greyson. “Wow,” he said. “Bless.”

Greyson rolled his eyes as he took a handful of tissues and cleaned himself up. “See?” he said once he’d thrown them away and washed his hands, “Good as new. HTSSHH-ue!”

Elijah chuckled. “Sure, Chef,” he said, moving towards the doors to the dining room. “Whatever you say.”

***

In his thirty-nine years on earth, Elijah had learned a lot about himself. He’d learned that he was a hothead, and he had to really think about the repercussions of what was going to come out of his mouth if he wanted to keep the person he was talking to in his life. He’d learned that he was incapable of whistling, juggling, or any other party trick – but he could pull out a fantastic rendition of Queen’s Somebody to Love during karaoke, and that was enough to make him seem like he was fun at parties. He’d learned that he loved to have his own space, and should he ever find a partner, he knew they’d have to have separate bedrooms. And he had learned exactly what it felt like when he was getting sick.

Like… really sick.

When Greyson said things like, “I didn’t know I was getting sick,” it truly did not register to Elijah. Maybe it was because Greyson’s illnesses always seemed to be some sort of mixed bag – starting differently every time, with symptoms that varied wildly – or maybe it was because he just didn’t tune in to how he was feeling. Greyson always said he basically tried to ignore his body until it forced him to pay attention; maybe that was something that Elijah needed to attempt. Because Elijah… Elijah knew exactly when and how badly he was getting sick every single time.

It had started that afternoon, mere hours after he’d given Greyson shit about exposing him to this illness, the way it always did – with the type of sore throat that made you feel weak in your knees. Elijah had swallowed, then immediately felt dizzy with the pain that surged in his throat. Oh, he thought, touching his neck. Oh, no.

He was, of course, a creature of habit and attempted all his usual ways to quell the pain – cups of tea hidden in paper sleeves, lozenges he hoped Greyson was too stuffed up to smell on his breath, handfuls of ibuprofen – to no avail. By the time dinner service came around he could hear the rasp in his voice and, despite the ibuprofen, could feel the ache in his joints that meant he’d already made it to stage two; fever.

This was how he knew he was going to be down badly. If he could ride the sore throat past the fever and straight into congestion, he might be able to get away with just a normal cold. But if that fever set in before any other symptoms, it was all over.

“Yo,” Greyson said, approaching his boss post pre-shift. “Cand we quickly talk about the semantics of tomborrow’s buffet before people get here?”

Elijah lifted his heavy head from his pre-shift notes and blinked in Greyson’s direction. “Okay,” he said, brilliantly. Greyson’s eyebrows knit together, concerned.

“You good?” he asked, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. Elijah nodded slowly – surely, if Greyson was able to push through this illness with such ease, he was just being a baby about it. He swallowed through the knives in his throat and nodded.

“Just a headache,” he said. “What do you want to talk through?”

“Just wanted to see how mbany cooks you think I should have on the buffehh....ETSZHCHH-ue!” Greyson directed a massive sneeze into his elbow, and Elijah’s head about exploded with pain.

“Christ,” Elijah muttered, pressing his palm into his eye. Greyson muffled a cough into his sleeve and shook his head to clear it.

“Fuck, ‘scuse mbe,” he said, looking back at his boss. “Umb. Did I get you or something?”

Something like that, Elijah thought as he shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’re just loud, and my head hurts.” He pulled out his phone, looked at the cover spread for the next day, and said, “Three cooks on the buffet. One for omelets, one for prime rib carving, one for dessert bar.” He looked up at Greyson for his confirmation. “What?” he asked.

“You just… look like you’re in pain,” Greyson said, carefully. “Did you take -?”

“Yes, I took ibuprofen,” Elijah cut him off. “Go make sure your guys are ready for tonight. Take a decongestant so they can understand you. I’ll be back there in a minute.”

Greyson pursed his lips, but didn’t argue. “Yes, sir,” he said, and left Elijah to brood.

By some stroke of luck, the third inevitable stage of Elijah’s illness didn’t hit him until after they’d finished service. He was checking the lead server’s station so she could go home, when suddenly it felt like a thousand bees collected in his sinuses.

“Yeah, looks good Riley, thanks, see you in the mo – IGTSHH-uhh! HSTSH-ue! HhhhINTSZH-ue!” Elijah wrenched to the side, the sneezes so sudden he barely had time to cover his mouth.

“Yikes,” Riley said, taking a step away from her boss. “Bless you.”

“Thanks,” Elijah muttered, pinching his nose to quell the itch.

“You pick up whatever has everyone else out this week?” she asked, taking off her apron. Elijah shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Have a good night.”

With all the servers gone, Elijah slunk back into the kitchen and sunk into his office chair, his head in his hands. He was not prepared to do a whole holiday service feeling like this. This was nightmarish, and he’d only felt sick for nine hours. Tomorrow? Tomorrow was going to be -

“Hey, bless you,” Elijah sat up and turned around at the accusation to see Greyson standing at the office door with his arms crossed. “Could’ve heard those from fuckin’ space.”

Elijah rolled his eyes, painfully. “Whatever,” he said, powering his computer up to finish the night’s paperwork. “You’re one to talk, I don’t think you’ve gone three seconds without -”

“HRRSHH-oo!” Greyson cut him off with a comically-timed sneeze directed into the collar of his shirt.

“-that,” Elijah finished.

Greyson grabbed a tissue and wiped his nose. “Yeah, but it’s been well-established that I have a cold. I was under the impression that you were still -”

“HTSHH! HRSHH! Huh-! HuhhESTZHH-ue!” Elijah once again collapsed in on himself, head both buzzing and pounding, the explosive sneezes grating the back of his throat.

“- well,” Greyson finished, and moved into the office to sit by his boss. Just as Elijah looked up from his lap, Greyson slapped a hand on his forehead.

“Enough,” Elijah said, pushing Greyson’s palm off. Greyson put both his palms on his knees and gave Elijah a knowing look.

“So, you’ve been sick all day, or…?”

“Greyson,” Elijah said, clearing his throat, “I’m fine.”

“You have a fever, Lij. Like, a pretty significant one.”

He knew, and he had known, but the words made Elijah’s eyes well and his throat close all the same. God, he hated having a fucking fever and all the stupid, ridiculous emotions that went along with it. Elijah took a breath, closed his eyes to collect himself, and addressed the chef.

“I’m not feeling 100%,” he said. “But I will be fine. You are sick – if I’m not 100%, then you must be at like 10% at this point.”

“I don’t have a fever,” Greyson pointed out, taking Elijah’s hand and placing it on his cool head. “See?”

Elijah bit his cheek to keep from snapping. “Alright,” he said. “Whatever. Still, you need to go home; it’s a big day tomorrow.”

“I will when you do,” Greyson said, shrugging. Elijah, completely spent, and done arguing, just turned off his computer – paperwork be damned for the night.

“Fine,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Let’s call it a night.”

Greyson, clearly confused, just raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Alright boss,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “See you tomorrow.”

***

If there was one thing Greyson knew about Elijah, it was this: if you wanted him to admit defeat, you had to corner him.

When he woke up at oh-dark-thirty that morning, Greyson felt lucky that he was no worse for the wear then he was the night before. Was he stuffed-up to the gills? Yes. Did he have an incessant, grating cough? Yeah. But ultimately, it was a cold, and he’d work through far worse many more times.

So, despite the fact that it was still dark out, Greyson donned his hoodie and set out for the restaurant. On the way to the early-morning subway, he called Matt.

“...Hello?” Matt answered on the third ring. “Chef?”

“Mbornin’ sunshine,” Greyson said, coughing into the receiver. “How’re you feeling?”

“Uh…” Matt said, attempting to gather his bearings. “Better. Am I supposed to be at the restaurant now? I thought I was scheduled at eight.” Greyson heard him push back a blanket and plant his feet on the floor. “You sound like shit, by the way. Sorry about that.”

“Inevitable,” Greyson said, a brush-off. “And you aren’t scheduled til eight, but I have sombe very important, pre-work, Executive Sous shit I ndeed your help with.”

“Sure, boss,” Matt said, and Greyson could hear him changing clothes, using mouthwash, and whispering goodbye to Mark. “Anything you need.”

“Good man,” Greyson said, pausing at the top of the subway steps. “Could you pick up cough drops, Mucinex, and a hot water bottle, if you see one? Oh, and a real blanket. I’ll Venmo you some mboney.”

“Uh, sure, boss. Is this… for you?”

“Not for me,” Greyson said, coughing into his sleeve. “For Elijah. He’s down bad.”

“Oh. Oh, shit,” Matt said. “Yeah, okay, for sure boss. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, mban. Hey, I’mb about to head down to the subway, text mbe if you have any – hh! HTSHH-ue! Fuck, sorry,” Greyson wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Mbaybe grab more tissues while you’re there,” he amended.

“Sure, Chef. Bless.”

“You’re the best, Mbatt. Always knew you’d make a perfect number two.”

Greyson could hear the eye roll through the phone. “Don’t get sappy, old man,” Matt said. “See you soon.”

***

To say Elijah felt like shit would’ve been the understatement of the century.

When he woke up that morning, Elijah was fairly sure he was dying. The fever he’d crawled into bed with hadn’t budged, his sinuses were packed, and he’d officially acquired the final gem on his sick-as-fuck gauntlet: the cough. This day was going to be absolute hell.

Elijah did his level best to get ready for the busy service; he managed to take about half a shower before he had to sit down, dizzy from exertion; he’d gotten one contact in before sneezing so hard he almost poked his eye out and settled on glasses; he’d even found the strength to put on a pair of pants, though a button down was entirely too much for his shaking hands, so he settled on a cardigan that looked passable enough. God he hoped the servers – and Mark – would be able to hold down the fort out front, because this was nothing short of tragic.

Unwilling to deal with the subway and unable to drive safely in this state, Elijah settled on calling an Uber to work. It was early, a little before eight, but he knew if he didn’t get there now, he’d never make it.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” the driver said, leaving Elijah to immediately regret his decision not to drive. “Pretty early to be up and at ‘em. You heading to see family?”

Elijah cleared his throat as best he could before begrudgingly responding to the driver. “Ndot quite,” he said, his voice strained and congested. “Worki – HGSTHH-ue! HRSSH! ETSZCH-uh!” Elijah attempted to hold back the sneezes, unsuccessfully. Sans any tissues, he wiped his nose on his sweater sleeve. “Excuse mbe, sorry.”

“Working and sick on a holiday?” the driver said, shaking his head. “That’s rough, man. Bless you.”

Elijah’s face flamed, but he was in no state to deny. “Yeah,” he said instead. “Thangks.”

The rest of the drive was in blessed silence, and Elijah made sure to tip the guy extra for being exposed to whatever plague he was walking around with. When he finally pushed through the back door of the restaurant, Elijah felt like he’d already lived a lifetime today; he really wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to take.

“Elijah!” Greyson’s voice reached him before Elijah could even see his face. “Happy Thanksgiving, you sick old fuck!”

Elijah turned the corner and almost burst into tears – there stood Greyson, his face pale and nose bright red, and Matt and Mark looking no better, outside of his office; his office that had been, essentially, turned into a cozy-looking bedroom.

There were blankets on the floor, the chairs removed, and medicine on the desk. The harsh office light had been shut off, and instead one of the lamps from the host stand glowed gently from behind the computer. And, perhaps most heart-rendering, in Greyson’s hand was a bowl of steaming soup, and in Matt’s, a cup of tea.

“I know you hate working the holidays, and feeling like shit is just insult to injury,” Greyson said, setting down the bowl so he could guide Elijah into the office. “So we thought we’d mbake it just a little less shitty.”

Elijah allowed himself to be lead in, unable to find the words to thank his friend. He turned into his elbow to cough, a welcome respite from the tears he could feel threatening to spill over. “Grey,” he said when he’d gathered himself. “I… this is so… you guys…” he swallowed around the lump in his throat and shook his head. “I don’t kndow what to say,” he said, looking up at Greyson. “Thangk you.”

“Ah, save it,” Greyson said, placing a hand on his friend’s back. “You’re always looking after us. Call it our Thanksgiving to you.”

Elijah smiled a little, punched Greyson’s arm lightly, and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Heading to see family? the Uber driver had asked him. Maybe he had been, after all.

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #coldfic #snez #snzblr #male cold #male snz #male ocs #original character

112 notes · View notes

bullet-clubs-bitch · 4 months

Note

Can I request a Christian Cage x Female!Copeland!Reader where Christian is married to Adam’s younger sister and they have their own little family together and she’s Christian’s Valet on screen when Adam arrives it causes a riff because (on screen) he’s trying to get his baby sister away from who he believes is her manipulative piece of shit husband but behind the scenes he’s the most caring and loving big brother and uncle and best friend?

Love Hate and Kayfabe

Warnings: Mentions of toxic relationships, hitting, violence, swearing, generic warnings of all sorts

Word Count: 4k

Main Masterlist Christian Cage Masterlist

When I was approached by Tony, Adam and Christian about this new storyline idea I didn’t like it. Not because Christian and I would have to act like a toxic couple who hated each other but the fact that our children would be involved. As an entertainer, I’ll admit I was intrigued with the concept but as a parent, I wanted to protect my children. The twins were too young to understand that it wasn’t real. It didn't matter how I would explain it if they saw Mom and Dad yelling at each other they would think it was real. Except in this case, it would be much more than yelling, you have to keep the Kayfabe alive.

Spending the past 20 years in the wrestling industry I was all too familiar with the issues many children with wrestler parents had. Christian and I knew this, that’s why we waited so long to have children, we wanted to make sure to be there when they grew up but sometimes an opportunity that’s too good to pass up shows up. The next thing you knew Christian and I were out of retirement and helped to create All Elite Wrestling.

When I found out my older brother Adam Copeland would be joining AEW for some reason I was angry. I mean don’t get me wrong I loved him but I wasn’t as happy as I thought I would be. All Elite Wrestling was MY show, I didn’t need my older brother to steal my spotlight once again. Although my run in WWE during the divas era was quite successful, I was still always viewed as ‘Edge’s little sister’. I hated it.

Adam and I were never close growing up, since he was 10 years older than me. He was always protective over me, too protective. I could never do anything without my big brother being there. When I told him I wanted to wrestle he shut down the idea immediately, he couldn't bear to see his little sister do such an extreme sport, it made me sick. Just because our dad died when we were young doesn't mean he can start acting like mine. It was his best friend Christian Cage that made Adam change his mind. Christian secretly trained me and vowed to keep it a secret from Adam despite the possibility of it ruining their friendship. Adam would find out about our secret when he went to a local indy show to support one of Christian’s friends on their debut match. What Adam didn’t know was that Christian’s ‘friend’ was me. Of course, Adam was mad at first but once he saw what I could do he had no choice but to allow it.

Since that day I have engraved myself as one of the best female wrestlers of my generation, without the help of my brother. I did it myself, or I guess with Christian. Christian was there from the very start, he taught me everything I knew, he was there for every match, and every injury, and he even supported me when I asked for my WWE release. I knew I had to wrestle in a promotion without the famous rated R superstar to be taken seriously. During that time Christian and I had developed feelings for each other. After years of sexual tension between the two of us that my brother obviously never noticed we bit the bullet and slept together. When Adam first found out about our relationship he was furious, not because I was sleeping with his best friend but how we hid it for a year without him noticing it. But to be fair it was supposed to be a one-time thing, but of course that’s never how it works. A one-night stand turned into booty calls, to friends with benefits, then fast forward 15 years here we are. Christian and I have been married for the past 10 and have 5-year-old twins, a boy and a girl who we named Isla and Carter. Who currently sat with us in Tony Khans office as we went over everything.

It was simple really, I had been Christians ‘valet’ ever since he joined AEW as I retired after having the kids so the fans already knew our relationship. That part was done, the only thing left to do was use the debut of Adam Copeland to create a rift in our relationship.

****

“HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW HE WAS GOING TO SHOW UP! HE’S YOUR BROTHER FOR GOD SAKES!” Christian yelled

“YOU KNOW I HAVEN’T SPOKEN TO MY BROTHER SINCE WE GOT MARRIED! HOW WOULD I KNOW HE WOULD SHOW UP? AREN’T YOU HIS BEST FRIEND!” I yelled back

“FORMER best friend. You of all people should know what it feels like to have him steal all the spotlight from you. Now you better fix this problem because there is no way in hell I will let him take the spotlight away from us again” Christian said this time in a condescending tone.

I did exactly what Christian said, next week I would interrupt a backstage interview with Adam and attempt to ‘fix’ this problem. During the segment, Christian, Luuchasaurus and our newly adopted son Nick Wayne would attack him from behind. This would begin not only the rivalry between Christian and Adam but also between me and Christian since he would accidentally injure me, slowly creating that rift.

***

“So Adam, everyone is dying to know why you decided to join All Elite Wrestling?” Renee Paquette asked

“Well Renee, I decided to join AEW so I could finish my career with the man I started with. I want to end my career with my best friend Christian Cage” Adam said

“Christian did not seem too happy when you made your debut at WrestleDream, he claimed that you were here to steal the spotlight from him. How do you feel about that?”

“Well Renee, first off-” I cut Adam off before he could finish his sentence

“Well Well, look who it is. It’s the rated R superstar Adam Copeland” I yelled in a cocky tone as I entered the scene, grabbing a chair to sit between Adam and Renee. “What’s wrong Adam? You seem…. On Edge? Renee, you should be asking why he really joined AEW, you and I both know that was a bull shit answer he gave you. The real reason you joined AEW was because you couldn’t bear to see your little sister in the spotlight. I’m not some kid anymore, I have become twice the star you ever were. People should be referring to you as Y/n’s older obnoxious brother who can’t stand to accept the fact that I am better than you. You can’t just walk into MY company and expect the golden treatment because of who you USED to be. I think it’s quite funny how you referred to Christian as your best friend. If you were really his best friend you would have called on his birthday, Christmas, New Year’s, fuck you would have been at his wedding. You left him hanging at our wedding day after you promised you would be his best man. You never called when I gave birth, never made the attempt to meet your niece and nephew, you never even called to see how I was doing after I NEARLY DIED after carrying this industry on my back for the past 20 years!” Just then on cue, Christian and the boys jumped Adam from behind and began the attack.

The backstage area had become pure chaos, chairs, tables, and everything that was not nailed down was being thrown. Adam and Christian started pummeling each other, security tried to pull the pair away but was unsuccessful. Just then Christian threw a chair at Adam’s head which he ducked, hitting me in the head instead. As my body hit the floor everyone went quiet as reality set in, Christian ran to my side to see if I was okay but Adam pushed him out of the way, so he could check on me. “Get away from her!” He yelled at Christian. You could see the regret on Christians face knowing that he took things too far.

***

A few weeks had passed since our segment and the ratings had skyrocketed. We had to move faster with this story that we had originally planned because the people were just too interested in it. This week after playing with Adam for weeks he would get a TNT title opportunity. In order to get his title shot at Full Gear he would have to wrestle Luchasaurus and Nick Wayne in a two on one handicap match. Adam would win the match and I would get blame me for it all, claiming that it was still my fault for Adam’s debut in the first place. I paced nervously around the backstage area as I wanted for our que to begin the match. Sure Christian and I had argued in ring and real life on many occasions but this time was different. After this match Christian and I would have to fully commit to the act. That meant no more wedding rings, no more traveling together, we couldn't be spotted together. Christian noticed me toying with my ring and came up to me giving me a big hug. “You know we will still be married right?” he told me softly before placing a delicate kiss on my forehead. “Yeah I know. It’s just weird. Whatever I say tonight I’m telling you right now I won’t mean” I told him as I held him closer. “I know, and I’ll apologize in advance for my actions” Christian told me.

“Alright you love birds, you're on in 60 seconds” one of the producer’s yelled.

Christian and I exchanged I love you’s and a kiss before we heeded hand in hand to the ring for the last time.

Christian sat on commentary and I was ringside supporting my boys. On multiple occasions I interfered when the ref wasn’t looking, but even with my tricks Adam still had the upper hand. I went under the ring and grabbed a steel chair, I handed it to Nick and distracted the ref. Unfortunately Adam countered and hit Nick on the crown of his head with the chair, busting him open. 1..2..3..it was over.

Christian stormed down to the ring and the two of us began to argue. Although he didn’t have a mic it was still loud enough to be heard. “This is all YOUR fault. I told you to take care of this and instead you made things worse!” Christian yelled. Adam sat on the floor on one of the ring corners, listening to our argument. I tried to get some words in but it was no use. I just kept saying I was sorry but he didn’t care. Christian was angry, with every word he got closer, we were soon chest to chest. The way Christian towered over me made me feel small, I felt like I had been teleported to my youth, I forgot this wasn’t real. “You are worthless, you are nothing” Christian said through gritted teeth. I could feel the tears fall, I was crying. I pushed Christian away, so hard he almost fell. Big mistake, SMACK. He hit me, he actually hit me. My cheek stung and the arena went silent, you could hear a pin drop. I couldn't control my emotions, I was a mess. Looking back at the footage I cringed at the way I looked like a big baby, for god sakes I’m a forty old woman who was having a toddler meltdown on tv. Out of instinct, I hit Christian back, I don’t know why I did but I did, I didn’t stop. Adam quickly got up and separated us. He pulled me away as I screamed. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I’m sick of your shit Christian, I’M DONE!” I yelled as Adam pulled me out of the ring. I took off my wedding ring and placed it on the ring apron before Adam picked me up, throwing me on his shoulder, carrying me backstage.

***

Christian and I sat in our private lockerroom alone and in silence for what felt like forever. We were the main event of the night and Rampage has just been filmed. We had been here at least an hour. I couldn't comprehend what happened, Christian hit me. I know this was all part of the story but I didn’t think he would hit me. He never hit me before, not in any way. It took me a while to calm down after the incident, I couldn't stop crying. Several of the female talent comforted me as I cried. I hated how vulnerable I was, many of those girls looked up to me as a mentor now they had to take care of me as I took my own story too far. I was distracted from my thoughts when I felt Christian gently place his hand on mine. I pulled away fast, still on edge from earlier.

“I’m sorry Y/n. I don’t know what came over me, you know I would never hurt you” Christian said softly. I said nothing, I didn’t look at him, I didn’t even move. “Can you atleast look at me?” Christian asked. I turned to face him and noticed his eyes were red as well, he was crying. He reached into his pocket and pulled out my ring, the large diamond shinned in the light. “You dropped this'' he said as I let him slip it back on my finger. “I’m sorry” I whispered as I could feel the tears reforming in my eyes “I’m sorry I hit you” I told him. “No, honey I’m sorry. I'm so sorry, it was right for you to hit me. Your poor face” Christian said as he gently cupped my face, brushing his thumb at the bruise that started to form on the side of my face. “I can’t believe I did that to you. I don’t know what I was thinking. Why did I do it so hard?” He said mostly to himself. “It’s okay” I told him “Can I give you a hug?” Christian asked, scared he would hurt me. I nodded and returned the hug. I was scared, so scared. What have I gotten myself into? What if all of this became real?

****

Just like I said it became real. After the incident I filmed a backstage clip of me dragging Christian and I’s children out of the arena. Renee tried to ask me a few questions but I was trying to get out of there as fast as I could. I held Isla in one arm and Carter held my hand. “Y/n, can you tell us what you’re feeling after the actions that just took place in the ring moments ago?” Renee asked “I’m done, I’m fucking done. Don’t you dare come near me or my children. We are over and I WILL be getting full custody” and with that I left the arena. Once that clip aired the following week my phone was going crazy. People all over the world had been talking about the story, people bought it, I bought it. I actually ended up falling into a depression, I couldn't get out of bed, I couldn't get myself to go to work. I couldn't look at Christian.

Full gear was soon approaching and Christian and Adam had continued the storyline without me. Adam went on his weekly rants on how Christian had been manipulating me for years, how he didn’t deserve me, how toxic we were behind closed doors. Christian denied everything, he claimed that Adam was the one who was manipulating me. I mean, it was when he came to AEW we started to drift apart. Adam was just making me believe Christian was the bay guy. The crowd was divided, people on both sides of the story, so invested on what would happen at Full Gear. I, however, felt nothing but numbness. It didn’t matter how much Christian praised me behind closed doors, how many gifts he bought me to cheer me up, I coudn’t get it out of my head. I knew he loved me, I loved him but when you're so deep into a story it’s hard to get out.

It was now Full Gear weekend and it would be the first time I went to work after the whole fight. Christian and I arrived separately and stayed at separate hotels. It had been a whole week since I saw Christian last and when I saw him he was different. “Hi my love!” He said as he came up to me, holding me tight and kissing me. That was my Christian, not Christian Cage. “Have you been smoking again?” Christian asked me. I may or may not have taken up smoking again due to the stress of this storyline. “Maybe” Christian said nothing, he just laughed. “Why are you so happy?” I asked him “I’m just happy to see you. I missed you and I was talking to the boss and Cope, they think you should turn on him” "Turn on who?” “Adam, we can make it seem like the whole argument between us was just a work to get closer to Adam. Now we know his plans, now we can end him for good!” I liked this idea, did it make total sense, no, but I hated arguing with Christian more.

I helped Christian get ready for his match and went over everything. I would accompany Adam to the ring and ‘help’ him during the match while I was actually helping Christian. Some started to catch onto my tricks. They were little things, throwing weapons in the ring to benefit Christian, distracting the ref so Adam couldn't get the pin, feeding Nick instructions to attack Adam. Soon I was feeling better, I felt like myself. I was finally able to get out of my head. The end of the match was soon approaching and this would be the finali. Just as Adam would get the three I would pull the ref out of the ring. The crowd went wild and by the look on Adam’s face I could tell he was shocked, oops. Just then I climbed in the ring and listened to Adam begging for answers. Why did I do it? Why would I do it? How could I do it? It was easy, I couldn't let him steal my spotlight once again. I then gave Adam a low blow and Christian gave him a conchairto. It was over. I pulled the lifeless ref back into the ring and listened to the painfully slow count 1….2….3… It was over. It was finally over, we won, I won. Christian and I passionately made out in the center of the ring as we drank in the boos.

I went over to grab a microphone and made sure I got the final word. “You stupid, stupid old man. You really thought I was on your side. You’re pathetic, you see this whole thing was a trap and you fell right into it. You really thought you could split us up? I’ll give it to you, you got close but not close enough. If you thought a little argument would split us up you are sadly mistaken. Christian could put me through a flaming table and we would make up in time for dinner. You wanted to know why? Why I did it, it’s easy. It’s revenge. Revenge for making my life miserable, now it’s your time to live in my shadow, and if you think it’s over between us, that’s cute. This is only the beginning”

Christian and I laughed, leaving Adam’s lifeless body in the ring, heading backstage to grab a few drinks, making sure to leave one for Adam. Sure I hate his guts but at the end of the day he is my brother. Christian and I might hate Adam on screen but behind closed doors we still love each other. Always have always will. I mean he is my brother, whether I like it or not.

An: Sorry the ending is a bit rushed but I didn't want to make it too long or make a second part

#bullet clubs bitch #all elite wrestling #aew smut #aew #aew fanfiction #christian cage #christian cage x reader #christian wwe #christian cage gif #christian cage imagine #christian cage smut #christian cage fanfic #christian cage x you #christian cage oneshot #christian cage aew #christian cage is so hot

44 notes · View notes

hatsunevitu · 1 year

Text

okay so since the Cupid Ye was aired i’ve been constantly thinking about cartman’s mental condition. we know he’s probably taking medication now, so i hc him having antisocial personality disorder and bipolar disorder. and i’ve been imagining him having his depression episode for the first time after he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. he’s not used to it, he has no idea what’s going on and why he suddenly feels so tired and numb all the time, so he just stays at home skipping school and avoiding social contacts. he’s scared and the “it’s all because of your illness, poopsikins!” from his mother doesn’t help at all.

and sooo i wrote a short moment about this?? i’m sorry for any mistakes because it was originally written in my native language, not in english :(

***

Ever since early childhood it was clear and obvious to everyone that Eric Cartman had problems. Not even like that, Kyle corrected himself in his thoughts. Eric Cartman had Problems. Sociopathy, sadism, aggression – all that a person could notice in Cartman after only half an hour of communication.

And Kyle wasn't too surprised when bipolar disorder was added to all of the above in a sloppy psychiatrist’s handwriting.

By the time Cartman was finally diagnosed he had already gone through several phases of mania. Kyle even did a little research on the disorder. "To know what to prepare for the next time I meet this psycho," he told Stan. "And to know how to help him if necessary," he added silently to himself.

By the age of fifteen, Stan's company was already used to Cartman's regular explosive mood swings, which were accompanied by crazy ideas, aggressive behavior, and, if absolutely unlucky, deaths of a couple or more people.

It was typical: after a short break, Cartman would burst into Kyle's room (often through the window), start showering him with business plans, startup ideas, and opportunities to have extreme fun. Kyle was silent, trying his best to ignore him and frowning irritably when Cartman smiled ecstatically and rushed to Kyle, tugging at his sleeve and almost shouting that everything would be better this time and that it’s a one hundred percent successful scheme.

For some time Broflovski genuinely believed that everyone in their friends group was going through such tortures, but after a short questioning, he found out that they had not seen Eric's mania with their own eyes. Kyle understood — and they won’t, when Cartman just chuckled at the outraged "What the fuck, Fatass?" and replied, "I guess you're just special, Kahl. They wouldn't understand." His eyes flashed especially maliciously, and Kyle looked away hastily so as not to give Cartman the opportunity to start another fight.

Well, all in all, no one's world collapsed when Cartman was diagnosed with a new mental illness. Over the past months of insane hallucinations and obsessive intrusive thoughts, he managed to make everyone sick of him. He refused to go to the therapy sessions for a long time, shouting, running away and trying to get into a fight, and Liane was too afraid to find out another unpleasant truth about her son, preferring to go with the flow and shut him up with the fulfillment of every single of his whims. Kyle doubts that anyone would have done anything to help Cartman if he hadn't intervened. Why – it was unclear to Broflovski himself, but Cartman's first depressive phase hit them both unexpectedly too hard.

Disappearing from everyone’s sight for two weeks, Cartman ignored calls and messages (although Kyle had a serious doubt that anyone other than Butters and Broflovski himself texted him) and skipped school despite Mr. Harrison's threats of expulsion.

Liane avoided answering questions, pursing her lips in frustration and talking her way out with a trivial "He's sick." Kyle didn't believe a damn second, knowing that if Cartman was sick, Kyle would have known about it the very first. Something was wrong. For some reason, the desire to find out what exactly was much stronger than it should have been when it came to Eric Cartman.

***

Perhaps Kyle really shouldn't have worried so much — not to the point of climbing into Eric's window at night. But the Cartmans hadn't opened the front door all day, and by that time Kyle's nerves were so stretched that they threatened to break if he didn't get answers to his questions in the next few minutes. Disturbing thoughts and images of possible turn of events appeared in his head. Perhaps Cartman was dead? Or, on the contrary, has killed someone and had been dissolving dismembered body of his victim for two weeks? One option was no better than the other, but nothing was even close to what he saw in Eric's bedroom.

Haggard, seven kilograms thinner, with an unhealthy skin color and bags under his eyes, he looked painfully wrong, not Cartman-like. He didn’t look exactly ill — more like lifelessly tired. But that wasn't even what hit Kyle so hard.

He did not suspect how much had been hidden in Cartman's eyes before – lively fire, hatred, anger, enthusiasm, passion – all this was gone, dissolved, buried under this empty, dead, unblinking gaze. For a second Kyle even thought (hoped?) that he was really dead, but the heaving chest under the blanket and almost inaudible sound of breathing exposed life in Cartman. He was lying on his back, his head slowly turned towards the window. Kyle sought recognition on his face, but did not see a single shade of any emotions.

He froze in the window, making eye contact with Eric, feeling like he saw something he shouldn't have. He tried to revive the old familiar hatred that usually boiled in him as soon as their eyes met, but Cartman’s emptiness totally killed all the anger. Kyle climbed through the window – Cartman didn't react in any way, lazily closing his eyes – and walked up to the bed, touching his shoulder timidly.

“Hey, Cartman?” he said, shuddering at the way his voice echoed throughout the bedroom. Cartman didn’t open his eyes but smiled hardly visibly.

“Hey, jew”. His voice was empty and emotionless and Kyle pursed his lips with a bit of a pain.

“You need to see a doctor, Cartman”, he said firmly as Eric finally opened one eye disinterestedly. “I’ll help you. I promise”.

And he did.

143 notes · View notes

justcallmecj · 18 days

Text

Sorting Ceremony And My Dorm

Alright. So this chapter really was just me trying to figure out the writing style for this when I first made it. Doesn't mean much to the future prompts tbh, except for maybe one chapter that plays as a sort of "continuation" of this. For any future prompt submissions, this dorm sorting means nothing and requesting reader to be from another dorm is totally okay! Have fun!

"Next!" rang the Headmaster's voice. One of the few things he's said this whole time, and he just keeps repeating.

The boy before me went up to the Dark Mirror. The Dark Mirror repeated the same 'state thy name' line. The student said his name and the mirror chose his dorm. Scarabia. He kinda looked like a Scarabia kid too if you ask me. He came back to his spot next to me and Crowley called the next person again. Me.

Crap. Now I have to walk alone to the Dark Mirror. With all those eyes on me. It's fine, we can do this Y/N. Just go to the Dark Mirror and get your dorm.

I made my way past students and into the clearing for walking. I made sure to keep my wings folded close to my body and tail wrapped around my leg as to make sure I didn't hit anyone.

I calmed down a tad as I walked because I realized the other boys really couldn't care less about what I was doing. The only eyes truly on me were those of the Headmaster and the dormheads. No biggy so far.

"State thy name" the Dark Mirror asked me. Does it ever get bored of saying only that? I definitely would.

"Y/N L/N" I told it. The face in the mirror thought for a bit. The longer the wait, the more anxious I felt. The face finally looked up at me again.

"Your soul was harder than most to read, but I do believe that I found the right one. I place you in..." he took a dramatic pause. Really not needed body-less face. Please just hurry up!

"...Pomefiore." The dorm founded from the Beautiful Queen? I mean, alright. Definitely not where I originally thought the Dark Mirror would put me but I can roll with it.

From behind me I heard the smallest hum of contentment from someone. I turned around to head back to my spot. I traced the hum to a person. Vil Schoenheit, the dormhead of Pomefiore. I only managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes when I walked by. He's been watching the ones sorted to his dorm all day. I'm no different I guess.

I eventually made it back to my spot and waited for the last couple students to get sorted. I ended up blocking out the rest of the ceremony. It wasn't until I heard the loud voice of someone giving orders that I came back to reality.

The other dormheads gave little speeches about welcoming their new members and how they operate in the dorm. We were all told to follow our dormhead to the dorm and get cozy in our new rooms.

I followed close to my soon to be dormmates. I somehow got pushed to the front and now found myself behind Vil. Talk about nerve wracking. Without realizing, my tail uncoiled itself from around my leg and started swishing gently behind me. Quite a few of the boys behind me backed up as to not get hit. Nice, personal space!

After we had all headed through the mirror to Pomefiore and into the actual dorm, I found myself frozen in awe. Ironic considering I don't freeze. Even the coldest of temperatures can't do that to me.

The whole place looked like a castle. The roofs were high, the walls made of bricks outside beautifully painted a white color. There was all sorts of decorations strung throughout the room, lights everywhere. If I wasn't used to bright lights they would have been blinding. The room was filled to the brim with lavish looking furniture, all the signature royal purple of Pomefiore, even the walls had the beautiful color on them. There was a ridiculous amount of mirrors covering the walls. Really, are you trying to make me get sick of my own reflection?

While everyone was admiring the beauty of the common room, Vil turned to face us and called out.

"Now listen up!" he ordered. We all gave him our attention. "You are all now members of Pomefiore, the dorm founded by the Beautiful Queen. Because of that, we take our looks and status very seriously around here. I expect you all to do the same." Behind Vil, a man wearing a hat with a feather on top came to stand next to him. He gave everyone an unnerving closed-eyed smile. Both Vil and this dude are so freaking intimidating! Why though!?

"For those of you who don't know, I'm Vil Schoenheit, your dormleader. This next to me is Rook Hunt, your vice dormleader." So that's the hat dude's name. "We are the ones in command in this dorm. We want to make sure you all can live up to the name and reputation Pomefiore has, meaning that you all are going to have to work hard. Beauty doesn't come without work, or with zero effort." he stopped giving his speech when Rook leaned over his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. He then brought his attention back to us. Rook somehow spoke quietly enough that even my dragon-like hearing couldn't pick it up.

"There's something that needs my attention. I dismiss you all to go find your rooms. There are plaques by the door of each room with your full names on them. Spend some time to find it and adjust to how you'll be living from now on. Your stuff has already been brought to your rooms. Also, feel free to explore Pomefiore a bit." He moved the hair out of his face. My man got some pretty long hair to be honest.

Rook and Vil left the common room in a hurry, but the moment they did, the room burst with voices. We had all been so silent, I got so used to the quiet with only Vil's voice being heard, that when people started talking, it was an eruption in my ears. Some left to find their room, others found people to strike up a conversation with. Only a few, including me, stayed put, not knowing what exactly to do next.

I stopped to take the time and rid myself of my ceremonial robes. It's was getting too hot for my in them anyway. I took it off, allowing my tail to take up a bit of space for it's own. My horns were a bit of a struggle with the hood but it came off with a little work. I made sure to keep my wings furled though, with their wingspan, those suckers would hit someone with no doubt.

With my release though, came whispers. People around me talked in hushed tones, I heard it all though. Something I don't necessarily like about my enhanced hearing. 'Look at their tail, it's thrashing around like crazy'. No it isn't! Just a nervous swing! 'Those horns look like ice spikes, could probably spear someone with them!' I mean, true, I can, but why would I!? 'Are those wings?! What are they?!' A dragon you dick, that's what. I guess people around these parts aren't used to seeing fae, let alone dragon types.

I wanted to stop and take a moment to take in all the people, but I prefer not to go through the mental torture that is talking to new people. In the end, I settled for finding my room. I found a sign next to a door leading out of the common room that was labeled 'Student Rooms'. Guess that's where I'm going then.

With a lot, a lot, a lot and a lot of searching I finally found my room. End of the hallway in the east wing of the building. No other room to my left, one to my right, and another across the hall. I guess I don't have to worry about noise to much. Wow, the door is so freaking tall! Holy shit dude.

I opened the large purple door with the golden accents. On the other side was a bedroom just as lavish and grand as the common room and the hallway was. They did tone down on the royal purple but the gold accents didn't stop in the hallway. A lot of space in here, not used to that while living with two little siblings. There was a full length stained glass window, a wardrobe, bookshelf, a desk to work at, and a bare bed. Everything I need!

Just as the dear dormleader had said, my luggage was sitting in the middle of the room. Three suitcases, one for clothes, one for personal items, and one for room decorations. If I'm gonna be here for the next three years of my life, I'm gonna make sure I'll enjoy the hell out of my room. There was plenty of space to let my wings spread too! I slowly unfurled my wings and carefully stretched them to their full length, careful not to strain them after being tucked in for so long. They were definitely gonna be a little sore tomorrow. Regardless, FREEDOM AT LAST!!!

I then spent the next 2 hours of my life unpacking. I put my clothes away and found my school uniform in the wardrobe along with what I assume is the Pomefiore uniform. I unpacked all the books I brought with me and sorted them on the book shelf, school supplies in and on the desk, and put pictures in the little nooks and crannies of it all and on the wall. Pictures of my family, friends, and places I loved. Pictures of my sister and brother when they were little, even some of me when I was little as well. I made sure to leave plenty of empty space though. Wanna make sure I have space for future pictures to hang and sit.

Once I was all done, I decided I should probably check the time. Nightfall had hit and the sun was starting to go down. As if on cue, my stomach rumbled. I need food. Now. Gotta find the kitchen or dining room first though. I left my room and started making my way where ever I could. I think I may have caught a glimpse of a sign saying Dining Room earlier. Now, I just gotta find it again.

I searched for a while absentmindedly. With no success of finding my destination, I resorted to my ears. I closed my eyes and listened close. I caught wind of multiple conversations but none of them said anything that would help me. That was, until I heard a voice I actually recognized, two actually but I only knew one. Vil's voice, the other was new to me.

With nothing to loose, I followed the sound of their conversation, careful not to pay any attention to what they were saying and instead on where they were coming from. Don't think I wanna start eavesdropping on people already.

Luck seemed to be on my side today. While following Vil and the unknown voice, I found the sign I've been searching for. Dining Room. Finally found it. I entered the room and found it filled with students. How did I not hear all of them? Anyway, I slowly made my way to an empty seat, one at the end of the table with no one to my right. There was a seat at the head of the table next to me that was empty and one empty seat across the table. They seemed to be the only ones without and occupant. For Vil and whoever he's talking with I assume.

After some waiting Vil and Rook came in and sat with all of us. Dinner was served and by 9:00 PM Vil sent everyone to bed for the night. I found my room again and flopped down on my bed that was now a nest I made out of pillows and blankets. I got up again only to get dressed and quickly curled myself up in a ball in my nest. My wings softly covering me and my thin tail wrapped in front of me. My own natural cold that my body produces whisked me off to sleep. First day of school tomorrow.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #justcallmecj fics #justcallmecj headcanons #Ice Dragon!Reader #twst x reader

20 notes · View notes