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ferrstappen · 10 months

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the second time we broke up l Lando Norris series

a/n: HELLO, I really like this concept and hope you enjoy it enough so I can come up with a third and final part that I have in mind <3 thank you for your messages, sorry for the delay on the requests, but I promise I'll get through them and announce the 1k celebration! <3

PART ONE HERE

pairing: Lando Norris x female!reader

words: 3.7k

warnings: teeny tiny allusions to sex, wear words.

genre: angst and some fluff <3

summary: there were reasons to try again, but maybe not enough.

You mourned the relationship, your first relationship, the classic way: crying, ice cream, sad love songs, getting drunk, bashing him with your friends who trash talked him with you, more crying, trying to get back up, realizing your worth.

Learning to live with no Lando, your dorky friend and loving boyfriend.

On the other hand, Lando was angry. He didn’t let himself cry, feel sad, be sorry for himself, be apologetic. He was resentful. Did you feel superior to him? How could you do better than him, a Formula 1 driver?

Maybe it was his bruised ego talking, acknowledging you actually could do better than an immature F1 driver who couldn’t give you stability, the comfort you deserved, the attention he couldn’t (or didn’t want to) reciprocate.

He simply let go, detached himself from the situation and simply forgot about it; rolled his eyes whenever friends from home brought you up at the same time he was getting acquainted with other people. Lando Norris was just realizing the world was his and had to take advantage of it; he was wanted, he was desired, and he let it go to his head while walking the streets of Monaco, letting his eyes trace the silhouette of women who dedicated him a flirty smile.

He spent more time discovering Monaco’s night life, going out with other drivers and their social circles, leaving the club with a stunning woman by his side, gaining the experiences he lacked because everything he got to know was you.

This went on for the entire break, he rapidly left the family home after Christmas under the excuse of clearing his head, feeling comfortable in his new home, new country.

It all lasted until the season was supposed to start, but it didn’t.

In the blink of an eye, he was cloistered; no more night life, expensive champagne, exotic cocktails, waking up with a different figure every morning before gently letting them know it was time to leave.

For the first time he was realizing the hotel room was empty; one suitcase, one phone charger. The bathroom only had the miniature hotel goodies, there wasn’t a shampoo bar, some Lush shower gel (that he always used), no hair left in the tub, YLS perfume on the counter.

The next day he noticed Charles had a new girlfriend, Charlotte he heard, and he saw a bit of you in her; she was shy, educated, wealthy family, an outfit that could’ve resembled yours whenever you blessed the McLaren garage with your presence, and she was also carrying her laptop in order to get some reading done while supporting her boyfriend.

That was the moment Lando noticed you were missing.

He didn’t know what to do at first, what are you supposed to do to regain contact with your ex-girlfriend with whom you didn’t have the friendliest of break ups? It’d only been a couple of months, but he was aware he was different and of course you would be as well.

He tried to subtly ask Max whenever he flew over to Monaco (pretty much every weekend). His best friend only fed him small details here and there, knowing exactly the intentions of his friend, even if he tried to act all nonchalant and recounting his experiences with girls here and there.

But there was only so much Max could take.

“Mate, what’s the thing with (y/n)? Why do you keep asking me about her?” Max asked, Lando caught unprepared for the question (or outburst) of his friend.

“What do you mean? Of course I want to know about her, she’s still my friend,”

Max rolled his eyes. “Mate, you’ve rolled your eyes during the last month whenever someone brought her up, behaving like a child throwing a tantrum and now you’re all interested?” Max questioned his best friend, trying to use an understanding tone so Lando wouldn’t shut down. “I can’t help you unless you tell me, mate.”

Lando took a deep breath.

How was he supposed to tell him he missed you?

No, that was too simple, too ordinary, I miss you couldn’t begin to express the turmoil of feelings wanting to burst out of his lips after being muted and ignored for so long.

He enjoyed silence, but he missed your quiet humming.

He had fun meeting new girls, but he craved your body under, on top, against his own, like two pieces of a perfect puzzle knowing what the other needed.

He got annoyed sometimes when you asked him to keep his voice down while streaming, but he missed the scattered papers, books, class notes on the living room table, eyes closed and hair scattered over the table.

He hated his closet, full of hoodies, not one trench coat, denim or leather jacket, thick sweater.

He despised his kitchen, only watching his trainer approved food, no ice cream, hidden Maltesers as to not tempt him, bland orange Jaffa Cakes he’d always laugh and call you a grandma for having them.

He missed your careless figure, only a bra and thong or boy shorts roaming from the bathroom to the bedroom over and over again, always missing a t-shirt, a skin tint, a brush, a hair pin.

He hated himself for forgetting to call his mum, being used to you reminding him to FaceTime her.

And so he told Max everything; the void on his chest, the shivers in his arms, the empty side of the bed, the rose scented shower gel, the tingling on the palm of his hand, the exhaustion of trying to find you in other people when he knew there was no one like you, the desperation of thinking of you with someone else, the fear of not living the future he made up in his head.

Of course, after he let it out of his chest his best friend was staring at him as if he grew an extra head. Why didn’t you say this before? Lando answered he hadn’t realized, he wasn’t aware of his feelings, eyebrows rising when Max snorted; half mocking, half shocked at Lando’s cluelessness.

“Mate, you have to be honest with yourself if you even want a fighting chance,” Max knew if he didn’t tell Lando, he’d never be aware or liable of his actions. “Mate, she’s fine now, but it was such a low point, her parents didn’t want me to see her at first because I’m your best mate,”

Lando threw his head back in surprise, squinting, asking Max whatever he meant, because he was well aware of his feelings and what he longed for.

I cannot be the one to break it to you, mate. Those were Max’s words, and Lando was getting annoyed.

“Fuck’s sake, Max. what do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? She’s the one who broke up with me!” Lando exclaimed with a raised voice.

Max groaned, an annoyed, i-can’t-believe-i-have-to-be-the-one-who-tell-you-this groan.

It’s your fucking ego, Lando. It got so fucking big don’t even know how a body as small as yours could handle that incredible vision of yourself when you couldn’t bring yourself to go back home and have some pints together, you didn’t care on calling for our birthdays, we got some fucking McLaren merch you told someone to send us, nothing. Max felt as if he was slowly emptying his chest.

Lando was shaking his head, the events he was hearing weren’t veridic, Max created a scenario that never happened.

Max continued, ignoring Lando’s denial.

And we are your friends, (y/n) was your girlfriend. Mate, you forgot about her and she didn’t even have to tell any of us because she was making excuses for you. Of course you were busy, mate, but so was her and you couldn’t care less. Bob, I’m telling you this because you are my best mate, but please hold yourself accountable. Yes, she was the one who announce the break up, but it wasn’t because she wanted to.

Taken aback, trying to come up with a response, Lando realized his walls were crumbling, his heart was aching, his brain was making the connections, bringing back the actions he knew were wrong.

Fuck you, mate. I’m still putting on a good word and try to come up with something, but fuck you, Bob.

Nothing a hug, a pint and Call of Duty couldn’t repair.

Three weeks went by where Max prepared the field for his friend, making sure every friend was on board, slowly settling ideas on their friends.

We all have free next weekend?

It’s been long since we’ve all hung out together.

We’ve all been studying and working so hard, we deserve to have a little break.

Do any of you have any ideas?

Lando told me we are all welcome at McLaren for Barcelona, two more weeks.

That’s when Max’s efforts and intentions were clearer. Lando wanted to make amends or bring back the group? Did he need something? Probably not, it still didn’t make sense.

Your friends agreed with very little hesitancy, probably assuming if Max was proposing the idea chances were you were in the loop of sharing a space with Lando, especially after the circumstances.

After everyone left you asked Max why would he put you in that position, knowing being back on the paddock would be full of awkward interactions for you, asking whether or not you were back with Lando, your name being thrown around on social media, strangers paying just a little more attention at you in classes, righ after you’d gotten over it.

But were you truly over it? The situation, yes. The wave died, only focusing on your well-being, learning to be without him.

Now, were you over him? Of course not. You missed his teary laugh, his messy curls in the morning, the glint in his eyes when he saw you get off the plane with your bag, the flutter on your stomach whenever he smiled at you, unafraid of letting you know how much he loved you.

It was two weeks, but felt just like a couple of minutes, boarding a crowded British Airways flight to Barcelona, using the excuse of having too much to study in order to not pay much attention to what was going on, Apple Music choosing the worst song choices for your state of mind.

But God, you couldn’t have cared less about someone who loved you more

I’d say you broke my heart, but you broke much more than that

Now, I don’t want your sympathy I just want myself back

This was a terrible idea, your thoughts of getting up and announcing you didn’t feel so good so the plane couldn’t leave the ground. You weren’t ready to face Lando and all the feelings it’d bring back.

And don’t you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded?

Don’t you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing?

Ugh, and fuck this song as well. That’s the last thought on your mind before angrily opening a Maltesers family sized bag, preparing your nostrils to feel his perfume again, your hand to touch the soft fabric of his hoodies, your check for the courteous and familiar peck on the cheek.

The hotel was the same, papaya t-shirts walking all directions before going to the track, with some people not knowing you, others trying to hide their surprise before saying their heys.

And the rest was a blur, completely.

He saw you, you saw him.

Lando put on his best façade, a relaxed expression on his face, usual smile, normal stance. Neither you nor Lando lingered on the first hug, make eye contact after the greeting cheek contact, announcing you’d all go out on Sunday, Carlos would bring some friends and whatever.

Max expressed his frustration to Lando, noticing he didn’t do anything to even get close to you, with the driver telling his best friend he was paralyzed, his mind betraying him and not letting him think straight; your perfume too familiar, too starved of your touch, too drunk on your voice. But he tried his best, supported by his friends, Carlos patting his back before directing him towards you, using the excuse of you catching up with Isa.

Isa ad her boyfriend quickly fell into a quiet conversation, trying their best to give Lando and you the space required while both of you updated each other on whatever happened since you last saw each other.

And you were weak.

Weak for the veins showing on his arms, the grip of his hands on the bottle, the light stubble on his chin, Lando throwing a joke on the only reason behind the light hairs even seeing the light of day was because you weren’t with him because, being honest, you would’ve told him to get rid of it.

Maybe you wouldn’t fix things, but maybe you could get something from this trip. At least waking up next to him, stepping inside your bubble one more time.

Crazy stuff how body and soul connect, completely silencing your reasonable head screaming to get away from him, trying to remind you of the tears, the disappointment, the crushed self-esteem, the sleepless nights seeing him with girls who didn’t always look like you. Body on the other hand… was ready to throw it all overboard just to touch his lips again, caress the soft skin, draw the freckles and moles decorating the beautiful canvas called Lando.

That’s why you agreed to leave with him, but little did you know Lando’s thoughts never mimicked yours. He just wanted to walk you to your assigned hotel room, asking if you could talk; maybe now, maybe tomorrow, maybe in a couple of weeks, but he needed to inform you he’d be waiting for the conversation, the uncomfortable heart-to-heart.

And it happened.

He recounted the facts from his point of view: overwhelming welcome to the historic team, his name thrown around all over, everybody trying to get a bit of him, and in the attempt to please everyone, he neglected you and your history, disrespected the shared love and admiration, destroyed the strong pillars of your entire relationship.

You chronicled every phase of your process: the denial, anger, adoration, sadness disappointed. How the situation decimated the vision you had of yourself, trying to understand why your heart ached for him still.

He wasn’t afraid this time to let a few tears run down his beautiful eyes, quick to erase them and hide the quiver on his voice, to tell you he was willing to fight because after not having you, at the short age of twenty, he was sure you were his person, his meant to be.

You let him kiss you softly; not rushing, not letting your hands wonder over known but forbidden places. With the only purpose of trying to keep up, inform each other of the feelings, the love, adoration and need.

It was like the break up never happened, you were flying and walking next to him during the next GP, kissing his helmet for good luck. You’d never deny the awkward moments when he crossed paths with a regular paddock girl with whom he shared a short time with, but you were able to understand.

The love only grew.

This time, more mature and secure, no longer with books scattered and messy buns after days and nights of studying, you packed everything and moved to Monaco with him, taking his words to heart: you were his person, his meant to be.

Then years passed, and what you thought was a more mature relationship, more secure, crumbled down with one simple DM telling you a model was exchanging messages with Lando and were partying together a couple of weeks ago, a little too close.

You never questioned his late nights, inconvenient meetings, new projects. Never once doubted him and his love for you.

Now you are twenty three.

This break up was different. You were adults; more mature, with more to lose.

This time he was crying and you were angry; angry as you stared at the kitchen you had carefully chosen the right cutlery, the right shade of beige, the perfect vase. You had jumped, even when he gave you no reason at all to do it, your love for him was that great, sacrificing everything you could think of.

For it to end up like this.

He was crying. Not that fake crying with soft whimpers and sniffling. No, he was crying.

Lando was aware of the weight of his mistake, his brain knew the outcome, but his heart was trying to hold on for dear life, working to get a reaction out of you, doing everything in his power to show the desperation trying to crawl off his skin.

How could you? How can you be so selfish, when did you become this sorry excuse of a man who couldn’t tell me to my face you were seeing someone else, you chose to humiliate me. How can you care so little about me that you keep breaking me? What did I do to you to put me in this position? The painful thoughts and reality shaking you and letting

I am not seeing someone else! Baby, you flinched, yes we were exchanging messages and whatever but it meant nothing. You know a lot of influencers and fucking whatever message me all the time.

Yes, Lando, and you answer to each one of them. That’s what you told him while rolling your tearful eyes.

I know it was right there, borderline, I didn’t do anything, we just exchanged some messages, she was flirty and yes, I kind of followed along but she always knew I am in a committed relationship.

“Are you trying to make things worse?” That was your honest question, catching his desperation but devastated by the situation.

She found me. I was hanging with Max and Kelly and she found me, I don’t know how. I held her waist for like ten seconds and then she tried to kiss me and I backed away. Kelly even told her to go away, she even spoke in Portuguese, she can tell you that!

Stil you some how are not aware of your actions, Lando. Please tell me how you still are the same boy I fell in love you years ago, but not in a good way! you’re immature. Again, once again I’m here, in this fucking position, how am I supposed to get over this? I do not have the strength to get back up from this because you’ve somehow taken everything.

That was the catharsis, the implosion of your insides, breaking everything it came in contact with.

At least, this time you were not staying with things to tell him. This time you were letting him carry the burden of fucking things up.

“I gave up England, I gave up festivities with my family because you were tired, created this whole new life because it was convenient for you, your career, your everything and the last, the only thing I asked from you was respect, because it’s not enough for you to love me, you have to respect me and you keep showing me you don’t and it’s heartbreaking because I don’t know how, after all these years…”

The silence was unbearable, your pain was deafening. Lando’s helplessness palpable.

“I don’t know what to do for you to see everything I do, everything I sacrifice. For you to realize that I’m great, that I am not just a pretty girl for you to show around sometimes. I’m intelligent, I know that I am good,” Now you were choking, the sobs were excruciating even if your words didn’t make sense for Lando, but the feelings were strong your head was spinning.

“Why can’t you see that? Why do you put me in this position, humiliated once again when you are supposed to love me, respect me, cherish me…”

More silence. More desperation. More tearing.

“Or maybe I don’t deserve that?” You quietly asked him. Because maybe you were the problem, the factor why things failed. Maybe you really were not enough, the image of yourself not real, your love not that important, your presence not very needed.

Lando shook his head and said no, of course not, to please don’t say that.

“Maybe I have this image of myself and it’s not the truth, because I feel worthless, Lando. All I’ve ever wanted is to be enough for you, to be the person you come home to, and I don’t know why I failed again.”

He cried and denied everything, completely taking the blame, assuming the consequences but trying the last desperate resorts.

One month later, he was with the girl on a yacht.

Two months later, you saw them entering Lando’s parents house, iron gates opening and letting you catch a glimpse from across the street of your parents’ home.

That was the last time you saw Lando Norris.

At least for now.

#lando norris au #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris blurb #lando norris angst #lando norris fluff #f1 x you #f1 masterlist #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

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Somewhere Only We Know - TWO

Chapter Warnings: spoilers for 2x02, swearing but that’s part of the show idk why you would be surprised by that

shoutout to @yanna-banana for showing me this Instagram dupe site so I can make this a bit more ~interactive~ since reader is, y’know, a social media manager. also thanks for ur patience my lovelies, i’m having “ahhhh im graduating” depressive states and all my energy is going towards finals and existing rn.

Series Masterlist

“Okay. Laptop. Charger. Keys. Coffee. Shoes. Shoes!”

For some reason, you were a mess this morning. You had been repeating your list of things you needed over and over again and yet every time you kept discovering something else you had forgotten. Your bag lay half-packed on the couch as you ran around like a chicken with its head cut off in pursuit of your shoes. Seriously, how the fuck did you lose the shoes you had grabbed from your closet just a minute ago?

That’s because they were in your hands.

Sighing, you pulled on the sensible flats and took another moment to look around your room and list out all the things you needed for work today. The TV played in a lone drone behind you and you turned your head to see This Morning playing. Philip and Holly were interviewing some guy from that one reality show.

“What about Amy? Are you going to wait for her?” Holly asked.

“Nah, no. I was just playing a game, know what I mean?” the guy replied. Christ, was that Jamie Tartt? It was, wasn’t it. “Find the fittest girl there, have sex with her in the toilet, ask her to marry you. Strategy.”

“Wow,” you drawled before you shut off the TV. “He’s a piece of shit.”

You headed for the door and quickly backtracked. You almost forgot your entire bag and the leftovers from the shoot you had last night. Ugh, you needed more coffee.

~~~

You were scrolling through TikTok in search of a new trend to use for a Richmond video when all five foot two inches of your boss came bursting into your office.

“Oh, sorry! I should have knocked. Get your bag, babes, we’re going to lunch,” she exclaimed. “There’s this cafe that’s a ten minute walk from here and they’ve got the best coffee.”

You knew better than to argue with the pure ball of energy that was Keeley Jones. In the short time you’ve known her, you loved the beaming blonde. She and Rebecca were infectious in their laughter, light, and kindness. When you first interviewed, you were intimidated by the two women, but you quickly learned that they were goofy as hell and always down to gossip.

Grabbing your purse, you dutifully followed Keeley through the maze of hallways. She passed the locker room without a second glance, but you made sure to peek over your shoulder to see a few of the guys streaming out of the doors.

“Yo, Keeley!” someone called. She spun around and waved at whoever yelled and then grabbed your hand, pulling you over to talk to a few of the guys.

“Hi Isaac! Have you met our new social media manager yet? She’s gonna be the one making you all look sexy on the Gram now,” she announced. You offered them a tentative smile and the large man in front of you beamed.

“Isaac McAdoo,” he introduced. You gave him your name in turn and then cleared your throat. You weren’t as charismatic or bubbly as Keeley, but you were trying to make more of an effort. Your last job was filled with a few passive aggressive comments thrown over cubicle walls and then bossa nova jazz everyday. No one had been chatty or nice the way everyone was at Richmond.

“I’ve actually been meaning to set up meetings with all the players,” you explained. “My job is to handle the team’s socials, but I also want to integrate the players' ideas and individual brands. I’d also like to know if anyone is working with a management team so I can coordinate with them on certain posts.”

“Isn’t she fucking brilliant?” Keeley exclaimed.

Isaac puffed out his chest and flexed his biceps. “As long as you make us look good, then I’m in.”

Keeley patted you on the shoulder. “We should get going to lunch, but check your email soon. I’ll make sure we can coordinate times to meet.”

“Awesome. Nice to meet you!” He darted off to go talk to someone else and Keeley slid her arm into the crook of yours so she could lead you out of the building and down the road.

“Isaac’s all bark and no bite unless you’re on the field,” she explained. “Sam is an absolute sweetie and Colin is darling. Richard is my go-to when I need to know a wine pairing and Zoreaux is a beast at Dance Dance Revolution. Bumbercatch is…”

Keeley listed off all the players on the team and you tried to keep a mental catalog of everything she said, but it was making your head spin. You were grateful once she stopped outside a small cafe that was indeed a short walk from Nelson Road. A simple vanilla latte and a chicken cobb salad was your order while Keeley got a complicated drink and a wrap.

The owner, Alex, handed the two of you your drinks and you turned with the intention of finding a table to wait for the food when Keeley stopped short. Some guy stood half-obscured by the plant shelves, but he stepped out once he realized he caught Keeley’s attention.

“Jamie?!” she exclaimed.

“I-I’m not stalking ya,” he blurted out. “I’ve been following you for, like, a few blocks now and I couldn’t text ya because I deleted your number.”

As he rambled on, his words started to fade in and out as you took him in. His slicked back hair made him look like a corny Godfather character and the all black ensemble didn’t help. You could understand why people fawned over him with that strong jaw and blue eyes, but as his lips moved all you could hear was his smarmy talk from the show this morning.

“So, yeah, I’ve been following you for the last few blocks. No, I’m lying. I’ve been following you for your whole lunch hour. But I’ve just been trying to build up the courage to say hi…so…hi.” His voice trailed off and he shrugged.

“That’s, like, the definition of stalking,” you murmured which drew his attention to you. Jamie Tartt was starting to feel like a bad omen that was following you around.

“Hi, sorry. Jamie Tartt.” He offered you a cocky smile that you recognized from the TV that morning and you merely glanced down at his outstretched hand. You had no idea where that hand had been. Raising a single eyebrow, you let your gaze trail up from his hand to his face.

“I’ll go find us a table,” you said to Keeley before you brushed past him and found an empty table by the window. You always loved sitting by the window and watching the world pass by. You could make up stories about the people that passed by. Like the lady walking two poodles. Maybe she was some CEO or maybe she was an undercover agent. That would be sick as hell.

“Sorry about that, babe,” Keeley apologized. She placed your salad in front of you and then took the seat across from you. “Now, I just want to say that your idea about meeting all the players? Brilliant. Absolutely fucking brilliant. When we get back to the office, we can set up a calendar for everyone to schedule a time to meet with you. How’s that sound?”

“That’s great. I really love working here.” You looked towards the door where Jamie Tartt was heading out of, a coffee clutched in his hand. He glanced back at the table you were sitting at and you immediately looked away and back at Keeley. You offered her a tight smile and nodded along to whatever she was saying.

Hopefully that was the last time you would ever see Jamie Tartt.

Tag List: @shiptheship

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt series #jamie tartt fanfic #ted lasso fanfic #somewhereverse

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dontforgetoctober3rd · 5 months

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Come Go With Me

A Michael Gavey fic.

EDIT: Now with art! (just a sketch tho)

Summary: It's the spring of 2007 and Michael Gavey has so far kept to the vow he made to never socialize again after Oliver ditched him. Then he meets a cute girl at a coffee shop. Will the vow stand strong or immediately go down the drain?

Word Count: 3986

Rating: T (plenty of swearing, instances of misogyny, objectification of the female body, atrociously incorrect bagel eating, New York City slander, etc.)

Author's Note: yes, the title is the song by Expose. Also, I'm a corny writer.

Divider by @cafekitsune

“I don’t know or care what Oliver Quick is doing this summer,” Michael said, continuing to type on his laptop, not even making eye contact with whoever asked the question. The guy who asked left without saying anything further.

Some random guy in the library asked Michael if it was true that Oliver was going to be spending the summer with Felix on his family’s estate. It was more about prying into Felix’s business than him wanting to know anything about Oliver, Michael thought. Oliver was not on the same level of being interesting (in the eyes of the general student populace) that the Cattons were.

Michael didn’t give a shit that Oliver was going to fancy fucking Saltburn with his new, snobby, loser, nepo baby friends for the summer. Really, he didn’t. When Oliver humiliated him at the bar, he made the decision then to swear off any further socializing at the university. It was the best thing he ever did.

Already, he felt less anxious. He had more time to focus on his coursework. More time to read new books, attend off campus lectures. Walks in the park by himself were quite relaxing when he didn’t have to think about topics to keep a stilted, dying conversation going. He even went so far as to set aside time to play video games again. Every weekend, for one hour and a half, he lost himself in Fable on his Xbox.

Michael still felt the sting of the bar betrayal from time to time, as he thought he had finally found a true friend in Oliver (or at least, the potential for him to become one). The new, lone path taken had helped him realize that he was not the problem. Oliver was just an asshole, like the majority of those who went to Oxford.

Sometimes Michael wondered why people didn’t like him. Must be how smart he was. There was nothing weird about being good at math. What was so awful about being good at math, anyway? He guessed that most peoples’ biggest issue with his smarts was that it reminded them they were stupid. Oh well! Plenty of time for activities by himself now.

One of those activities was fast became his favorite, after only his fourth visit. Visiting a little coffee shop he had discovered near the river, he was able to “mingle” among people without having to talk to anyone. No one would bother him here and he would still get his dose of human contact which, after all, was vital to the psychological constitution of a person. As rigid as he intended on being with his new No Socializing At Oxford vows, Michael did not intend on becoming a psychopath. Besides, the baristas never got his order wrong. They never talked to him beyond the perfunctory taking of his order but after the third time, when he walked in, instead of asking what he would like the person at the register had asked “The usual?” and Michael would just say yes, thank you, and then pay.

Michael packed up his laptop, shoving it and the charger into his reusable Tescoe bag along with his notebooks. He stood and adjusted his sweater, checked all his pant pockets were buttoned up and zipped closed. He kept his visits only to every other day so as to not have the monotony grate on his nerves. The coffee shop made fresh bagels every day, however, and he had been looking forward to enjoying one all morning (his favorite was blueberry). He liked to eat his a certain way, scooping out the insides of each slice before finally eating the hollowed out crusts. Someone at school would surely have an opinion about his bagel-eating method (not that he cared) but at the coffee shop, Michael was left in peace.

Walking briskly through the library doors and outside in the crisp spring air, he didn’t even look in direction of Oliver walking up the steps into the library with Felix. They were laughing about something but Michael didn’t even breathe in their direction.

—---------

The delicious smell of bread baking hit him in a wave as he stepped into the coffee shop. It looked like a rush had just hit, the baristas busy cleaning and restocking various items.

“Hi! I’ll take your order right over here.” came the chipper voice. Michael turned.

Oh god, a new hire. An American one (he was pretty sure the accent he heard was American) Maybe he wasn’t entitled to feel irritated about changes in the store, it's not like he owned the damn thing, but Michael felt irritated just the same. This was HIS spot and someone new had just invaded it.

The new girl had long hair parted in the middle, tied back in a bun. The hair was turquoise. A very bright turquoise, almost neon, he would say. It pissed him off even more. Dyed hair was so fucking tacky.

He trudged to the register, hating every second of anticipating having to deal with someone new, someone chatty, even for something as impersonal as coffee.

The girl was almost as tall as he was, eye-level to him, smiling the fakest fucking smile he had ever seen. I mean, it had to be fake. Who looked this happy to be taking a stranger’s order? He didn’t even bother attempting to smile back. Whatever. Get my coffee, bitch Michael though.

“I’ll have a large vanilla coffee, sugar free, with a blueberry bagel.”

“Ah, so just cutting back on the sugar but can’t quite quit it altogether, eh?” the girl said with a wink and another smile, totally unperturbed by his attitude.

Michael pursed his lips and said nothing. The girl, still unbothered, looked down and clacked away on the touch screen. He quickly looked over her in the few seconds she imputed his order.

She had long, acrylic nails, painted a pastel kind of purple. Her name tag said Cat, which he guessed was short for Catherine. Maybe. Also her boobs were big. Not normal big, but stripper big. Not that he would know, but still. Too big for the word “boobs”, for sure. Tits seemed like a more appropriate word. If he had ever been to a strip club he was pretty damn sure stripper tits would look exactly like hers. And she had tattoos covering the entirety of her left arm. Classy, he thought condescendingly. No wonder she was working here instead of somewhere like a bank.

Michael wondered if she had tattoos on her chest as well…he was so sure he could avert his gaze before she noticed but suddenly her fingers snapped and her head lowered into his line of vision, a smug look on her face. Small wisps of hair hung in front of her ears, he noticed.

“You lose something. buddy?” she asked.

“I didn’t mean-I was just looking at your name tag.” he sputtered, fidgeting with a cuff of his sweater.

“Look, it's fine. They’re tits.”

Michael flinched slightly at her casual use of the word. It was one thing to talk like that with other guys, but girls? What was she trying to prove? Tits tits tits. He made a point to stare straight into her eyes and not look away while she continued to speak. “Its not a big deal, I promise,” she said, finishing up his order on the register and offering her hand to take payment.

Choosing not to respond, Michael set his Tesco bag on the counter so he could unzip one of his pockets to get at his credit card. The pocket it was in was hard to open and the zipper always caught, so two hands were needed.

“You can look, you know, just don’t be creepy about it.” she continued, as he struggled slightly with the pocket.

Michael did not look at her as he handed over the card.

Being branded a “creep” was the last thing Michael needed. He was already the Lonely Nerd at university, he really did not want to become the Creepy Lonely Nerd (that ogles stranger’s tits). Not that he would give a shit what people thought, but one less socially crippling label was better than one more.

“I mean, it’s not like I can leave them at home, right? I don’t mind a little look here and there!” she said with a laugh, handing back his card. Unbelievable. She was still talking about her tits!

“Can I get that to go?” Michael answered more than asked.

“Sure thing. Uh, what’s your name?”

“I’m Michael.” He was not staying here. He was not going to stay and become the Creepy Tit Guy. Given her outgoing nature, Cat would probably have something to say about the way he ate his bagel, too, he was sure of it. He would become Creepy Tit And Weirdo Bagel Eating Method Guy if he stayed. Maybe dealing with this at university would have been easier but this was supposed to be his relaxation spot. The coffee shop was ruined for him now, he would never come back. Ever. Fuck this place and fuck her.

“Alrighty, dude. Be right back!”

“My name is not…dude..” Michael stepped away from the register, his voice fading away to nothing as Cat got his order ready, unable to hear him. There was no one else coming in right now, it seemed he came during a lull. The other employees were still cleaning and restocking.

“Here you go!” Cat said with a smile, handing him his bagel in a paper wrap and his coffee.

Still not looking at her, he took his bagel and his coffee and got the fuck out of there, practically powerwalking away.

It was only until he made it to a nearby park bench that he finally saw what Cat had written on the other side of his bagel wrapper. A whole paragraph, practically. Michael, sorry for making you feel uncomfortable. I was just trying to be funny, I swear. Enjoy your coffee. Hope you come back!

Michael felt relief for a moment, before loudly groaning and spilling some of his coffee as he made to slap his forehead with that same hand. He had left his fucking Tescoe bag at the coffee shop. His bag that had his computer, his notebooks, his finished papers for a couple of classes.

He had to go back. Fuck.

“Yeah, sorry, but she said she knew you.”

Michael swore. The cashier informed him that Cat had just left, her shift was over. She had taken the bag with her to the Oxford library. Apparently, she was a student there? Who fucking knew!?

“You need me to call the police?”

“No, that’s all right, I do know her.” Michael lied. “I told her earlier I’d be headed to the library later. She probably figures she can catch me there.” Without a single, civil ‘thank you’, Michael practically fled the shop.

He didn’t care how dumb it looked that he was frantically looking everywhere in the library for the familiar, turquoise hair. People always looked at him funny. It’s not like he could go to each of them individually and ask them hey could you please stop snidely whispering every time you look in my direction? Old Michael would go back to his dorm, have a cry, wonder why no one liked him and then quickly finish his homework in his dungeon of a bedroom before crying some more and then going to sleep.

New Michael didn’t give a shit. New Michael was focused 100 percent on his academics and self-care, and right now his academics were in jeopardy because that Tesco bag held papers he had yet to type (Michael liked to hand write his work first, he felt it was more thorough). Also, maybe New Michael should better remember to not forget his shit at random shops. Old Michael wouldn’t have forgotten. Whatever.

After scanning the entire first floor of the library, he stomped to the second floor. If she was a student here, how had he never seen her? The hair would have been hard to miss. Of course, it's not like he made it a habit to people watch anymore, especially in the library.

Suddenly, he saw her. Way in the corner, at a table right under a huge window, he saw her returning with her nose in a book from the shelves. On the table, his bag.

“Give it here.” Michael said, approaching the table. Cat looked up from her book.

God, she was pretty. He felt like a troll next to her. It was so fucking unfair. More importantly though…why was he telling her to hand the bag back? It was HIS. He should just take it and go, without a word. She had basically stolen it. The girl was a thief and took it to give him a hard time because she was a bitch, like every other pretty girl he had ever interacted with and been cut down by. Maybe he could like her if he gave it a try…but the days of trying to get people to think he was cool or amazing were over. She was a bitch and he knew it.

Mmm not what the note on your bagel showed, an annoying voice in his head began. That note could only have been written if she liked you because who would write that for a random customer? You should talk to her an-

Oh, fucking christ. Old Michael. Desperate-to-be-liked-by-someone-ANYONE Michael. Shut the fuck up, Old Michael. You are dead.

“Yeah, no problem, I mean it is your bag!” Cat said cheerfully, closing her book and holding the bag out to him. “Sorry you had to run all this way to get it, Michael.”

“Um, it’s ok. I run fast.” Michael said, immediately regretting it. God, that sounded so fucking stupid. He reached out for his bag.

Oh, so we’re no longer on that socializing ban, huh, Mr. Comedian? I mean, what was THAT?! Old Michael thought slyly. Shut up shut up shut up shut up!!!!! And, look! She remembers your name! SHUT UP.

“-couldn’t just leave it there, you know?” Cat had finished saying.

Michael froze. “Huh?”

What had she been talking about? Shit. “Uh, why not?” Please let that be the right response. Please let that be relevant to what she was fucking saying, Michael thought desperately.

Cat rolled her eyes, but still sounded…not like a bitch? “The laptop would definitely have been long gone if I hadn’t taken the bag. I couldn’t just leave it there.”

Oh. That was it. That had been all she had said. Michael nodded and mumbled his thanks, ready to go…except Cat still held onto the bag. And stopped him with her next words.

“You play Fable a lot?”she asked.

It’s a trap. She is going to make fun of you, he thought to himself. Just get your shit and go. His hand was also still on HIS bag. That she was not letting go of, for some reason.

“Yeah, I like it a lot.”

Oh, how riveting. That will make her swoon! Old Michael chimed in.

“Really?” Cat responded. Her tone wasn’t mocking. It was…interested? “I like it too but it feels unfinished, somehow. I wish they would release Fallout 3 for these new consoles already, I bet it would be 1000 times better than this crap that Lionhead put out.”

Michael nodded. She liked Fallout? She was impatient for the release?? Ask her to go with you to the midnight release next year!!! Ask her ask her ask her ask- No. Shut up. Be normal, for once in your life, be normal and chill about something.

“-able doesn’t feel like it’s TRULY a good rpg, where you can do whatever you want, you know? You can only go in one direction and can’t put off the main quest at all.”

She was still talking about Fable. She was still talking about video games, something they both liked, something they had in common.

This is your chance, you know. Old Michael piped in. Did any of those other people ever show even the slightest interest in the stuff you were into? Ever? Ask her out!

“Ok,” Michael began. “I see your point, but the mechanics of the game aren’t the star so much as the incredible story and character designs-”

While he continued to go on a tangent of Fable’s good qualities to Cat, trying his best not to sound too rant-y, Michael frantically gave the idea of asking her out some thought…

What if she said no? Hm what if she says yes?

It’s stupid. The release for Fallout 3 is next year. No, not even. It’s October of that year, so…over a year away! Almost two fucking years! What kind of weirdo would ask someone on a date almost two years from now?! Plus, she isn’t even into me. She just likes video games, like any other person.

Why is she still holding onto your bag, then? Old Michael thought smugly. Why did she write that little note on your bagel? Why did she remember your name? Why-

All right, all right.

“Right, so…want to come? To the midnight release for it? For Fallout 3?” Michael asked, throwing all caution to the wind and swallowing his preemptive rejection rage that already was bubbling up.

“For Fallout?” Cat said, still holding onto the bag. “Which store you going to?”

“Target.” Please say yes. I don’t even know you and I know it’s weird to ask you somewhere practically two years from now but PLEASE SAy YES, Michael thought.

“Mm, nah.” Cat, said, letting go of the bag to dig in her bookbag.

Shit.

Michael’s chest began to hurt, the hand holding his bag falling limply to his side. He could feel his eyes begin to water. She was just like the rest of them. Pathetic. So pathe-

“You should come with me to Game on Queen Street, they always price cut!” Cat said, whipping out her blackberry. “Whatever price we show them for the game, they’ll shave 5 off it! I mean, it’s not much but I’ll take what I can get! Here, put your number in.”

On sheer autopilot, Michael put his number in. He felt ashamed the entire time, having choked back a scathing insult at the last minute before Cat had shoved her phone at him.

“Are you ok?” Cat took her phone back, eyeing him with a concerned look.

“I’m fine! It’s just-probably something I caught the other day, I can already feel the sniffles coming on and whatnot. It’s nothing!” Michael babbled.

It cannot be this easy, Michael thought. It’s been this easy the entire time? Hanging out with a girl? Talking to her? Making plans? Why did Oliver never like him when they had so much in common?

Holy shit, forget about fucking Oliver! You have a date with your future wife! Old Michael practically screeched. Jesus fucking Christ, you are desperate. Shut the fuck up!! Be Normal!

“You wanna go back to the shop and get another bagel?” Cat asked, putting her books away and sliding on her bookbag. “ We could use my discount, that way-”

“Yeah, let's go.” Michael cut in. Grabbing her wrist and not waiting for her answer, he turned and began to swiftly move through the library. He tried not to get excited as Cat uttered a quick ‘cool’ and kept pace with him.

He also tried not to think about how awkwardly he was holding her hand. Everyone in the library was staring, he saw it in his peripheral. It had looked so cool in his brain but now everyone could see how his stupid hand around her wrist slightly resembled him holding his limp-no no no no noooo shut up shut up SHUT UP.

“Blueberry runs out quick.” Michael said, as they both briskly walked. “I went one time at around this hour instead of my usual time and I had to settle for onion, which is gross as shit.” You’re rambling, Old Michael chided. She fucking works there, she doesn’t need a play-by-play of bagel supply issues. Let her say something, idiot! The reason he never noticed her before, it turned out, was that she hadn’t dyed her hair yet. Cat also began to tell him about her history degree. Something about the American Gilded age and how she was deep into research of the British Astors or something. Michael surprisingly found himself not bored. Were her eyes fucking green? Oh, fuck, they were green!

They finally saw the shop in the distance. Right after his anti-onion bagel tirade and her talk of her studies, he set straight into a long-winded verbal onslaught on the statistics of how rare green eyes were. Micheal thought his heart would fall out of his asshole when Cat adjusted their hands so her fingers were laced with his. About halfway through the distance, he had cut in when she mentioned her favorite bagel flavor (pineapple) and talked her ear off the rest of the way about his bagel eating method, insisting on its practicality but really prepping her so that she wouldn’t be horrified when she saw him do it and ditch him like fucking Oliver. She laughed.

“That’s so L.A. of you. New York would hate your fucking guts, though.” she said, with a grin. “Good thing I’m a California girl! I’d rather deal with horrible traffic and scooped bagels than having to fight rats for sidewalk space.”

Right before they got to the doors, Michael went for it. “I’m telling people that you’re my girlfriend.”, he said seriously. She hadn’t run off when he had taken her hand (wrist). She had noticed the Fable stickers on his computer. She had remembered his name after one interaction. The American thing was a slight issue but hey, no one was perfect!

“Cool, because I already told the staff that you were my boyfriend when I took your bag!” Cat responded. “I told them you like to pretend you don’t know me when you get mad and I just play along to pacify you. It was the only way they were comfortable letting me take your bag!”

Be cool! Do not fucking freak out! Act fucking normal! Do NOT scare her away! Say something a fucking weirdo would never in a million years say! Old Michael reminded him.

“Let’s go back to my place after and study some calculus. Your grades in that sound horrendous.” Fucccccck. You just got yourself a girlfriend and this is the shit you respond with?! Old Michael panicked.

Cat smirked. “Only if you promise to fuck me into your mattress after.”

Michael stared at her, almost daring her to say she was kidding. When she didn’t and her gaze briefly dropped to his lips, he abandoned any doubts he had and turned to walk away from the shop, practically dragging Cat with him.

Cat giggled and adjusted herself to clutch at his arm with both hands, her legs and his in perfect sync as they made their way to Michael’s room.

—------------

“What the fuck?” Felix said to Oliver, pointing. Both were sitting on a bench, relaxing a bit before their next class.

“Didn’t he go fucking mental at you the first day? Not to be a dick or anything but is she safe with that guy?”

Oliver followed Felix’s finger and froze.

He gaped at what he saw:

Michael fucking Gavey, math genius slash freak of nature, walking happily with the pretty American girl who had said no to their bar hopping invite just last week. It was definitely surprising, but Oliver was now more determined than ever. If a fucking social reject like Gavey could get what he was after, then someone like himself was sure to have the same luck if he continued to put in the effort.

THE END

#Michael Gavey #Michael Gavey fic #ewanverse #writeblr #Michael Gavey fanfiction #fanfiction #I DID IT I FINISHED IT #*jeb bush voice* please clap #I WAS going to put smut in it but despite some excellent advice i still couldn't do it!#I need to practice more! i really want to write a good fuck one day!#curse my catholic upbringing ugrrrrhhhh #yes this is corny but have you taken into consideration the fact that I DO NOT CARE???#i live life on the cob baby #and if the only way to improve my writing is by embarrassing myself on this hellsite then so fucking BE IT

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ashesofivory · 10 months

Text

HIS SUNSHINE - PART 2/2 ☀️

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Javier Peña is everything but a perfect man- he knows, but he’ll never admit his biggest regret amongst all, was losing you.

Word count: 2.9K

Warnings: mentions of smut, heartbreak, mild angst, regrets, breakup, both points of view, general sadness, sad ending.

He had you so close, but at the same time, so far away.

A/N: Sorry for not uploading sooner! I've been quite busy with a lot of stuff recently, I've written this in the few little breaks I have had, I promise. Also, I've had a rough time writing this, because I didn't want to see sad/heartbroken Javi. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it as much as you can. 💌

<< previous

With slow and shaking steps, you felt your heart break slowly, knowing that, as hard as you tried, you wouldn’t be able to fix it. Maybe it was all a mistake? Maybe you should try and stay here, probably quit the job and find a new one… But deep down, you knew you couldn’t convince yourself, it was too late to go back, and you didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

You finally left his apartment, your cheeks wet and shiny from your tears, which were still making their way down your face as you got in your car, to drive to your place for the last time.

After a hard time trying to open the door with your shaky, slippery hands, you managed to open it, being welcomed by the cold atmosphere of your apartment, almost empty by this point. you went ahead and started packaging the few things you had left lying around; toiletries, phone and laptop chargers, and photos.

Who would have thought something as simple as some polaroids and cheap frames would be the last straw? There were photos of your family, both recent and old, photos of you as a baby, taking a soapy bath, or on your 4th birthday, with cake all over your face, a bright, shiny smile on your face; but lastly, of course, there were photos of you and Javier, doing all kinds of things. Like a photo of you two on his desk, cocking an eyebrow at the camera, back to back, your arms crossed over your chest. Another one in which he has an arm wrapped around your waist, you looking away with a smile on your face, all red and flustered. For sure, happy memories, but at that moment, they felt bitter, sour even, because you knew that from now on, they'd become distant memories, which would probably end up in a box, at the end of a closet, in a dark, dusty corner.

You placed all the photos inside a box, along with some bubble wrap, and wrote "PHOTOS" on it, closing it with some tape, so that they would be safe in the moving process. You did the same with the rest of the boxes, the end result being over 20 boxes with your stuff by your front door. You took a minute to think to yourself. "How could 7 years fit in some cardboard boxes? How was it so simple?" you asked yourself.

However, there was a box on top of the kitchen isle, with an address written on it, one you knew perfectly, Javi's apartment. His name written in capital letters on one of the sides, in black Sharpie. You took one last glimpse inside of it; some of his clothes, which he had left in your apartment after spending the night, some mugs that he liked from your kitchen, the ones he used to drink coffee in, some of his favorite vinyls from your collection, which you two used to dance and sing to when you cooked dinner, or even some dried flowers from the first bouquet he gifted you. There were also work-related things, mostly files from the Medellin Cartel case, and some post-its that you had written, with special annotations about the case, hypothesis, ideas, suspicions...

Once you were finished, you closed the box again and head straight to bed, getting under the cold bed sheets, a slight hint of Javier's perfume on them, making you tear up a bit, but eventually, becoming comforting enough to turn it into a velvety smell, calming you down, taking you back to the good times you had spent together, in company, loving and feeling loved. Before you closed your eyes, you swore you heard Javier's faint, deep voice, wishing you "buenas noches", as he usually did.

✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

You woke up to the sound of your alarm, shutting it down immediately, groaning a bit, annoyed to wake up, as usual. You knew there was no turning back now, your plane would take off in a few hours, leaving what you called your life for almost a decade behind. You took a deep breath, and sat up in bed, taking your surroundings, your bedroom, for the last time, all the memories flooding your mind; when you moved in, unpacking your stuff, painting the walls… making the place truly yours. A pained smile appeared on your face when another kind of memories appeared in your mind, the ones you had shared with Javier; when he made you see the stars every night he laid on your bed, little marks on the wall due to the bed hitting the wall slightly when you had sex, when you made love to each other, when you had to change your bedframe because you managed to break the planks under it that one time you drank too much red wine, leading to hearty laughs and giggles.

But you knew it was too late. Too late to go back, so you got out of bed, trying to get this over with as soon as possible. You got dressed and zipped up your bags and suitcases, taking one last look around the cold, empty apartment, in case you were forgetting something, which you weren't. It seemed like you were just using it as an excuse not to go, to miss your flight, giving you more time to think about your options. Because there had to be another option, another possibility that allowed you to stay here, in Colombia, where you belonged, where your heart desired to be, with Javier.

You checked the time, and of course, you were running late. Typical you. Javier would probably comment on it, teasing you about the disaster that you are, nudging you with his elbow, a smug smirk on your face. You laughed quietly to yourself, making your way out of the apartment, to your car, loading the boxes into your trunk, one after another. You couldn't help but wonder, "Where was the box that kept your heart?".

As you drove to the airport, on the other side of the city, Javier thought he'd start to miss you a bit later on. But he was wrong. The moment he got in his car and sat on the driver's seat, his hand moved to the copilot's seat, looking for your thigh, to grab and caress it, writing his whole name letter by letter with his index finger on your soft, delicate skin. He turned on the radio, to try and focus on something else, but that only made it worse. He swore he could hear you sing and dance in your seat at the song that was playing on the radio, even if you didn't know the lyrics to it. That managed to get a sweet chuckle out of him, with then turned to a sad, heavy sigh. This was just the start of the day, how would he make it through it without crumbling down?

At the office, the first thing he noticed was your empty desk. He could still feel you around, your smell filling his nostrils as he closed his eyes, the sound of your heels echoing around. But it was all fake. You were gone, until further notice, as much as it hurt him deeply. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath, walking away from what once was your desk, to his, sitting down on his chair, hoping Pablo Escobar would soothe his pain.

As you arrived at the airport, you parked your car and made your way to the check-in counter. The process was mechanical, and you found yourself going through the motions without really registering what was happening. Once you were through security, you found a quiet spot in the airport lounge and sat down, gazing out at the planes on the tarmac.

Minutes turned into hours, and soon it was time to board your flight. Taking one last look at the airport, you boarded the plane, found your seat, and buckled up. As the plane taxied down the runway, you closed your eyes, trying to make peace with your decision.

The flight was long, and your mind wandered back to the last few months. The highs and lows of your relationship with Javier, the moments of joy and the moments of heartbreak. You knew deep down that leaving was the right choice for you, but that didn't make it any easier.

After a few hours, you boarded into Buenos Aires, Argentina, your hometown, the place where you had grown up and where your whole family lived. You got off the plane and walked to get your bags and suitcases. At the airport, your family was waiting for you- your mother, your father, and your brother, with his little daughter, your niece, in his arms. They welcomed you with a warm, big hug and a few tears. You were so grateful to have them, and you were sure that they'd help you go through your pain and hard decisions, supporting you all the way, showing their care and love for you, as they always have done.

As you left the airport, driving back home with your family, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief and sadness. Relief that you had your family's embrace to lean on during this difficult time, but sadness for the void left by Javier's absence. The city of Buenos Aires welcomed you with its lively streets, the nostalgic melodies of tango, and the comforting aroma of home-cooked meals. It felt both foreign and familiar at the same time.

Over the next few weeks, you settled back into life in Buenos Aires. Your family provided a comforting and supportive environment, helping to distract you from the ache in your heart. They did their best to make you feel at home, reminding you of the love that surrounded you. Despite their efforts, though, Javier was always in the back of your mind. You spent your days reconnecting with old friends, exploring familiar streets, and rediscovering the vibrant culture of Buenos Aires. Your brother introduced you to his friends, and they welcomed you into their social circle with open arms. They took you out dancing, to lively parties and tango clubs, hoping to lift your spirits and help you find joy in the present moment.

Through the laughter and dancing, you couldn't help but compare every experience to the ones you had with Javier. The way he would hold you close and guide you effortlessly across the dance floor, the way his eyes would light up when he saw you in a beautiful dress, undressing you with his eyes, and the way his laughter and flirtatious voice would fill the room, infecting everyone around him with happiness. No matter how hard you tried to immerse yourself in the present, thoughts of him still lingered in your heart, leaving a bittersweet and painful presence. During one of those nights at a tango club, you found yourself lost in the music and lost in the arms of a stranger who moved with the same grace and passion that Javier once did. For a brief moment, you felt a connection, a flicker of what you had lost. But as the song came to an end, reality crashed down upon you, and you pulled away, realizing that no one could replace Javier.

One evening, as you sat at a café with your childhood friend, Sofia, sipping on a rich, aromatic cup of coffee, she noticed the distant look in your eyes. Concern etched her face as she reached out to touch your hand, softly.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently.

You sighed, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. "I miss him, Sofia. I miss Javier more than words can express. Leaving Colombia was the hardest decision I've ever made, but I knew it was necessary for my own well-being. I just wish… I wish things could have been different."

Sofia nodded understandingly. "Sometimes, life takes us on unexpected paths, and we have to make difficult choices. It doesn't mean it's easy, but you have to trust that you made the right decision for yourself. And who knows what the future holds? Maybe one day, your paths will cross again."

Her words offered a glimmer of hope, and you held onto that hope tightly. You realized that healing wasn't a linear process, and it would take time to fully move on from the pain of losing Javier. But you were determined to focus on rebuilding your life, finding happiness within yourself, and pursuing your dreams and passions.

Meanwhile, Javier was struggling to cope with your absence. The emptiness in his heart grew with each passing day, and he found it increasingly difficult to focus on his work. He missed you fiercely and regretted not fighting harder to keep you by his side. He realized the toll the case had taken on both of you and understood the sacrifice you had made for your well-being. Haunted by memories of your time together, Javier often found himself staring at the box of belongings you had left behind. He would occasionally pick up one of the vinyl records you used to listen to together, placing it on the turntable and allowing the music to fill the silence. It was a bittersweet reminder of the love you shared.

One day, as Javier sat in his apartment, surrounded by the remnants of your time together, he made a decision. He couldn't bear the thought of never seeing you again, of not fighting for what he believed was true love. Determined to find you and make amends, he reached out to his contacts in Buenos Aires, seeking any information that could lead him to you. Days turned into weeks, and Javier tirelessly followed every lead, leaving no stone unturned in his search for you. He reached out to old colleagues, informants, and even friends from Argentina. His determination and love for you fueled his efforts, pushing him forward despite the obstacles he faced.

One evening, while sifting through a stack of files in his apartment, Javier stumbled upon a familiar name, one that sparked a glimmer of hope within him. It was the name of a private investigator based in Buenos Aires known for his expertise in finding missing persons. Without wasting another moment, Javier dialed the investigator's number and explained his situation, emphasizing the urgency and his deep desire to locate you.

Days passed, and Javier anxiously awaited any news from the investigator. He found solace in knowing that he was actively taking steps to reunite with you, but the uncertainty still weighed heavily on his heart. Every passing minute felt like an eternity, and he couldn't shake the feeling that time was slipping away. Then, one afternoon, while Javier was lost in his thoughts, his phone rang, jolting him out of his reverie. It was the private investigator, and his voice carried a hint of excitement.

"Javier, I've found her," he said, his words reverberating through Javier's entire being.

Relief flooded over Javier, and he could barely contain his excitement. He quickly packed some of his stuff, leaving behind the remnants of his shattered heart, and set off for Buenos Aires, fueled by the hope of rekindling the love that had been abruptly taken from him.

As the plane touched down in Buenos Aires, Javier's heart raced with anticipation. He couldn't wait to see you, to hold you in his arms again, and apologize for his mistakes. He knew he had a long way to go in rebuilding your trust, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make amends.

Javier's search led him to a cozy café in the heart of Buenos Aires. It was a place you often frequented, and he hoped it would serve as a starting point for their reunion. Nervously, he walked through the café's entrance, scanning the room for any sign of you.

And there you were, laughing and smiling with some friends, with a young toddler in your lap, who he assumed was your niece. He wanted so badly to hold you, to kiss you, and make you his once again, this time, without letting you go so easier. But he couldn't bring himself to. He was paralyzed, unable to move, his eyes just focused on your distant laugh and sweet, melodic voice, like honey. And then, he realized, his sunshine was back, but she was no longer his. She had managed to shine on her own, to find her own happiness and mindfulness.

He had you so close, but at the same time, so far away. With one final look at you, he mouthed the words "Te amo", and walked away, leaving you to your now happy life, this time, behind his silhouette the one who disappeared into the crowd.

You felt a smell, a familiar one that made your heart tingle, making butterflies appear in your stomach. You looked around, convincing yourself that you weren't just daydreaming, but nothing came into sight. You let out a deep sigh and turned your attention back to your friends, trying to engage back in the conversation, thinking that this had been another trick your mind pulled.

He had found his sunshine, his love, his fuel, but he couldn't bring himself to proclaim her once more, so he just let her shine, on her own.

Taglist: @hxpburn76 @hiroikegawa @still-wanna-be-corrupted @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javier pena angst #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #narcos #fanfic #javier pena one shot

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bonyassfish · 7 months

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God what a day. My laptop charger finally pooped out for good so after many attempts to get it back I finally gave up and got a new one but I foolishly bought one that was kind of cheap and now my computer doesn’t wanna turn on or charge lolololollllll 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃

Idk I guess tomorrow I’ll go to Best Buy and try to get a better one, or maybe see if it’s my computer that needs fixing even though it was working completely fine till it ran out of battery, so I think its the chargers fault

Also this mess meant I couldn’t really get any work done today arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Anyway I’m getting pizza and taking an edible and hoping that everything will magically be fixed by morning

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barbiewritesstuff · 2 years

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Church Encounters: Chapter 13

-- I would like to apologise for this behemoth of a fic because I think it's like 10k words long... sorry? We tried cutting things down but it didn't help much...

This fic was written in collaboration with @lgg5989 who is uploading this to her tumblr and her AO3. She also made the beautiful moodboard below :)

Comments and reblogs are available! We also take blurb requests for the universe!!

Previous part

Taglist: @acarboni21 @unsurebuttrying @dempy @peaches-1998 @bbooks-and-teas @roosterscock @positivelyholland --

“Do you think our theme should be Navy blue and white or is that too ironic?” you asked Jake, looking up expectantly for an answer.

In the months that it had been since you got engaged, things were busy. Things had picked up for Jake on base, he was asked to head an upcoming mission and he had been trying to prepare himself to lead a new team.

Jake’s mission was a dark hop, and he wouldn’t be able to talk to you for the entire month that he was gone. You had been reassigned to your previous squadron, and you were scheduled to deploy for six weeks of training and missions at the beginning of next week. The middle of the Indian ocean was not the most convenient place to send or receive mail or texts so your communication would be limited at best.

At the moment, the two of you were sitting in the kitchen of Jake’s apartment. Jake was focused on his phone, looking through something you couldn’t see and you were still waiting on an answer from him.

“Jake?” you asked, placing one of your hands on top of his, “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he said, still looking at his phone, “I don’t think it matters honey, whatever you want,” he said, his voice low and his words coming out slow and distracted.

You closed your eyes and let out a frustrated sigh, withdrawing your hand from his, you closed the screen of your laptop a bit harder than was probably necessary. This had been how the last two weeks had gone, and you couldn’t figure out what the problem was but tonight you were done with Jake’s ‘happy wife, happy life’ attitude.

Standing from the table, you pulled the charger plug from the wall and shoved your things into your backpack. When Jake heard the sound of the zipper zipping up, he looked up from his phone.

“Well thanks for finally joining us Lieutenant Commander,” you said under your breath, as you tried to make your way around him to get to the door.

Jake grabbed your arm, his hand not squeezing too tightly, “What? What’s wrong? I thought we were going to watch a movie?”

You pulled your arm from his, crossing it across your chest, “You haven’t paid any attention to the wedding plans all night. I understand that this isn’t something that guys usually enjoy doing but I figured you’d want to have at least some part in it. You have up until now anyway.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, standing up from his chair, his tall frame now towering over you slightly.

“This Jake, I asked you a question five minutes ago, and not only did you not answer, but when I asked again, you didn’t even try to make a decision, you just said ‘whatever you want’. What I want is you to be involved. This wedding is about two people, you and me, not me and myself,” you said, your voice raising with anger.

“I understand that you have more responsibility now with this mission coming up, but can you really not spare me the time of day to even answer a simple question?” you continued before he could interrupt.

“Hold on now, that’s not fair. I’m trying to do right by you with everything I do, I’m sorry that I don’t always have the right answer at the right time,” he said, his nostrils flaring with his restrained anger.

“That’s bullshit, I don’t need to hear the right answer, I just want your answer, your opinion!” you were full on yelling now, “And if you are going to try and hold ‘doing right’ by me over my head, then are you doing it for the right reason in the first place?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it,” Jake said, his eyes dark and his cheeks ruddy.

Letting out a tired laugh, you shook your head, tears springing to your eyes, “Well you said it, so some part of you has to mean it. I’m sorry I’m not like the girls you dated before but I won’t change what I believe for your wants.”

“I’m not asking you to change, I don’t even know why we are arguing to begin with,” Jake said, his voice deadly calm.

“Because you have been absent Jacob, you have been too busy looking through whatever it is on your phone to answer my questions, I understand that you’re busy but that doesn’t give you the right to ignore me,” you said, angry tears thickening your voice and wetting your face.

“I’m not ignoring you,” he said defensively, “I just got busy with this, it's important.”

“And our wedding isn’t?” you asked, you knew that it was petty but you were tired of his excuses.

Jake turned away from you, walking into the kitchen, his hands raised up to his head and his fingers laced together, “I never said that,” he said, turning around to face you again.

“Well you may as well have,” you finished, your voice as cold as the night you had left him at the bar. You turned away from him and stuffed your feet in your shoes, opening the door to his apartment, you made sure to slam it behind you as you left. You raced down the stairs to the ground floor as the tears you had been trying to hold back started streaming more heavily down your face.

Throwing yourself into your car, you cranked the key over in the engine. Pushing your foot down one the clutch, you shifted into first. Before pulling out of the spot, you put your head down on the steering wheel, letting a small sob escape you. The ring on your finger felt heavy for the first time since you had accepted it from Jake almost four months ago.

Lifting your head, you pushed your foot in on the gas and pulled out of the parking spot. Looking in your rearview mirror, you saw Jake standing in the parking lot behind you, watching as you drove away.

—

“Shit!” he yelled, slamming the door to his apartment closed behind him. Jake picked up his phone, the reason for the whole argument, and threw it at the wall. It hit the floor with a crack and his heart constricted in his chest. Rushing over to it, he plucked it off the floor, hitting the lock button to make sure that it still worked.

“That was stupid,” he said to himself as he leaned against the counter. Unlocking the phone, he pressed the call button under your contact. It rang through to voicemail and he tried again and again, to no avail. Finally giving up on you answering, he sent you a text, Drive safe. I’m sorry I acted like an ass. Don’t forget I love you.

With that, he dialled the only number he could think of, Beau’s. After two rings, he picked up, “Hello?” he asked in a whispered voice.

“Sir?” Jake asked, “I need a little help,” he said.

“What did you do now?” he heard the Admiral ask, his voice sounding exasperated.

“Y/n and I had an argument and I put my fucking foot in my mouth,” Jake said, rubbing his hand over his eyes, “She left and she won’t answer my calls.”

He heard a sigh before Beau asked, “What did you argue about?”

“She asked me a question about the wedding plans. I didn’t answer right away, I’ve been distracted with this upcoming mission,” Jake said, pausing, “I said some things I shouldn’t have.”

“How bad?” Beau inquired.

“Bad,” Jake said, his chin trembling with the effort of holding back his emotions, “God I’m fucking this up, I leave for deployment in two days, I don’t know if she is going to talk to me before then.”

“Take a deep breath, I’m sure that by tomorrow she will be willing to see–” Beau stopped talking, the sound of his phone vibrating came through the line, “She’s calling me, hold on.”

The call was still connected, but he was on hold. He sat like that, at his kitchen table for twenty minutes before Beau picked up again, “Please tell me that you didn’t say what she said you did.”

“I probably did, what did she say?” Jake asked his heart in his throat.

“That you are an asshole, who is having doubts,” Beau said, “Tell me it isn’t true, because as much as I like you Seresin, I love her.”

“I’m not having any doubts,” Jake said immediately, “She just took what I said that way, I didn’t mean it like that, I just I’m not good with feelings and all of the sudden she was angry with me and I didn’t even know what I did. I love her too,” he finished quietly.

“Good, then you can still fix this,” the Admiral said, “She’s at the pier, go pick her up.”

With that the line went dead, and Jake was running out to his truck, not even remembering to lock his front door on his way out.

—

You heard the parking lot gravel fly as someone pulled in quickly. Hoping it was your dad, you turned around only to be met with the side profile of Jake’s truck. Letting out a watery laugh, you cursed the man, as much as you loved him, he was a meddler of the highest regard. You closed your eyes, waiting for Jake to come and get you.

After you left Jake’s you had driven home. Sitting in the apartment hadn’t done you any good, so you simply put on your tennis shoes and started walking. By the time you had made it to the pier, the winds had picked up and it had started to sprinkle, like even the weather knew that you and Jake were having a bad night. The only person, besides Jake, that you could think to call was Cyclone.

He picked up on the fourth ring, and you hoped that he hadn’t been sleeping. You told him what happened and where you were, and he said that he would come get you. Apparently he had other things in mind.

Opening your eyes when you heard Jake’s door slam shut, you watched as he sprinted down the pier to where you were standing. The wind was whipping your hair across your face and the mist that had been falling from the sky turned into a steady sprinkle. You weren’t sure how long your teeth had been chattering together but you were suddenly aware of how cold you were.

When Jake reached you, he stopped running, slowing to a stop a few feet from you. At that moment, those feet felt like miles.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his usually commanding voice softer than usual, “I should have answered your question when you asked. I’m sorry I’ve been distracted, I’m just worried about this mission. That’s not your fault, and you shouldn’t have to pay the price for it.”

You nodded, “I’m sorry I yelled at you, I should have been more patient. I’m just, you’ve been so withdrawn Jake. You’re supposed to be able to lean on me, if you can’t do that now, then how are you going to do it when we are married?”

“I’m going to work on it,” he said, stepping closer to you, your frame now shivering slightly with the wind and the rain, “I’m not good with emotions but I promise I will work on it, for you.”

He opened his arms, and you stepped into him letting him envelop you in a hug. He was warm and you felt yourself relax against him. Being in his arms again felt good, it released the stress you had been carrying.

“Please don’t walk out on me again,” you heard him whisper into your hair, “I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you, not now, not ever,” he said.

“You don’t know that,” you said quietly into his chest.

Jake sighed, “I do, because I might be an asshole sometimes, but you love me.”

You stayed silent at that, he might be right but you weren’t going to tell him that. Your thoughts came back around to Beau’s meddling when you asked, “How did you know I was here?”

“I called your dad when you left. I just thought he would know what to do, he’s married, and he helped raise you,” he said quietly squeezing you into him tighter as you shivered again.

“Let’s get you in the truck, okay?” he asked.

You nodded into his chest. He guided you to the truck, one arm wrapped around you to try and shield you from the wind. Opening the door for you, you climbed in and were immediately surrounded by the warm air he had pumping out of the vents. Jake pulled the seat belt across you, and buckled you in, even though you could have done it yourself. He closed the door and jogged around the front of the truck, hoisting himself up into his own seat.

The drive back to your apartment was quiet, the constant blow of the heater the only noise between you both. The air was not as tense as it felt in his apartment, but there was something between the two of you that didn’t feel quite right. As Jake pulled up to the building, he put the truck in park. You reached for the handle on the door but his hand on your leg stopped you.

“I really am sorry,” he said again, “I don’t want this to ruin anything we have, especially before we both get deployed.”

“It won’t,” you said, your chest constricting at the thought of feeling this off for six weeks, “I love you.”

Jake cupped your face with one of his palms, “I love you too,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You returned the kiss in kind. When you broke away from him, you pressed a kiss to his hand before turning your head and opening the door. Jake jumped out quickly, escorting you to the door and making sure you got in okay before leaving.

----

The next day, things were still feeling a little tentative. You had gone through the usual routine of going to church in the morning, kissing his cheek when saying ‘Peace be with you’ and holding his hand for the Our Father, and then meeting up at your apartment for breakfast but the post argument feeling had yet to clear the air.

Despite that, you both tried to enjoy each other’s company. Jake’s mission was in the morning, he would need to leave so early he wouldn’t have time to swing by or even call before you would need to go on yours. So, you set aside all technology and all your apprehension and snuggled on the couch together.

You were lying down on your side across the couch, Jake had joined after a refill of his coffee cup, sandwiching you between his body and the backrest. You placed your head on his chest, moving your leg so it covered his own and tried to concentrate on the film you had put on. Your ears, however, kept making your brain concentrate on the gentle thumping of Jake’s heart and the noise of his lungs expanding and shrinking as he breathed.

You lost yourself in your thoughts, only disturbed when Jake spoke, his deep voice sounding more gravelly through his chest, “What are you thinking, baby?”

“Your heart’s beating,” you replied. Jake shifted so the arm that had been squished underneath you now rested behind his head, while his other hand played with the battery compartment of the remote control.

“Only for you,” he whispered under the sound of the scene unfolding on TV. If you hadn’t been so concentrated on him, you might have missed his reply. Jake closed his eyes, wishing you could stay like this forever.

“I don’t think we’ve ever argued before,” you said.

“No, I think that was our first time… Let’s not do that again,” Jake said quietly.

“Yeah. Let’s not,” you agreed, continuing in a quieter voice you said, “I should get up. I need to pack for tomorrow…”

“You really should,” he answers with a sleepy voice, “But you won’t. You’re going to stay nice and snuggly with me, under the blanket, and we’re going to have a nap,” he adds, dropping the remote so his hand could move to gently trace the side of your arm with a lazy finger.

“We can't,” you mumbled into him, “We don’t have time.”

Jake hummed, opening one eye to look at you, “I’ll put an alarm on, we’ll wake up in an hour, how does that sound?”

You didn’t answer. You were already falling asleep, breathing in the scent of Jake’s soap and that woodsy scent that drives you crazy, the one that was just him. Stopping the tracing for just one moment, he fished his phone out of his pocket and turned it on just to set up a timer.

Jake dropped his phone to the ground and brought his hand up to brush some hair away from your face. He looked at you, drinking in your peaceful expression. Yes, he thought, he could definitely do this forever. He would happily watch you snuggle further into his chest as he caresses your cheek with his knuckles for the rest of his life. His eyes drifted closed and he too dropped off into a blissful sleep.

The alarm never went off, Jake had forgotten to press the save button on his phone. You both snuggled for the next three hours, only waking up when the doorbell rang. With a groan, you extricated yourself from Jake’s groggy cuddle and went to look through the peephole at a man holding a large bouquet of flowers.

After signing for the delivery, you carried the bouquet inside, depositing it on the kitchen table. The buds were a mix of chamomiles, white hyacinths, irises, lilacs, asters, and basil. You didn’t need to read the note to know who had sent them, only two people in your life knew enough flower language to send you such a strange mix of flowers. Dropping them all into a vase, you tried to remember what it all meant.

You knew basil meant ‘good wishes’ and that asters were a symbol of love. A quick google search told you that white hyacinths signified ‘prayers for someone’, chamomiles stood for ‘patience in adversity’, irises meant ‘Faith' and lilacs meant ‘Joy of youth’. Opening the note, you skipped the message to see if your guess had been right. Indeed, Cyclone had signed his name in his usual messy scroll.

“Did you order anything?” Jake asked, finally finding the courage to get off of the sofa. He walked up behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and hugging you from behind, snuggling into your neck.

“It’s from my dad,” you replied, handing him the card.

“Congratulations on the milestone! The first fight is never pleasant, but it is something every couple goes through. Elisabeth and I's first argument happened two weeks after the wedding. I was working on a promotion, hadn't been home much and it was bothering the both of us. It all came crashing down over peas. We couldn't agree on how to cook them and soon enough we were screaming at each other. At the time, it felt insurmountable. Now, with the benefit of time we can look back and laugh. Trust me, you will too. In the meantime, Lizzie and I have found the next verses to be particularly good at guiding us towards healing and reconciliation.

'Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others.' -- Cyclone

'Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.' -- Lizzie

Don't forget that marriage, as much as it is about love, is also about compromise and teamwork. Make sure that regardless of what you feel, you face the problem together. Love, Beau," Jake read in his still groggy voice.

“I think it’s pretty clear what we should do,” you said, thinking about the words Cyclone had written. Jake hummed, taking your hand he led you into your bedroom.

You picked your rosary from the bedside table, opened the velvet pouch and dumped it into your hand. Kneeling down next to the bed, you took Jake's hand and the two of you prayed the rosary together. As you worked your way through the beads, your only thought was on God and how he had brought Jake into your life.

When the rosary had been prayed, you and Jake kneeled in silence a moment longer. He pulled you into his chest, holding you tight, "I'm sorry we argued. I love you so much. You are everything I've ever asked for, kind, caring, loving, and I can't imagine my life without you."

You smiled into his chest, "I love you too. You are a good man, Jacob Seresin."

You felt him sigh against you, "You are the best woman, so forgiving."

You let out a quiet laugh, "I do my best." After spending a few minutes in silence, you groaned, falling halfway on the bed, “I suppose we should get ready,” getting up from where you had kneeled. You willed yourself to open your wardrobe and started pulling things out to put inside of your bag, Jake was still kneeling next to the bed, seemingly lost deep in thought.

“I don’t have doubts,” he eventually said, pulling your attention from packing your duffle, “I don’t know much about life, I don’t know what the Lord has in store for me, but I know I love you. That’s the only thing I’m certain of, mia cara. I don’t know if the sun will rise for me tomorrow, I don’t know if I’ll fly, or if I’ll land, I don’t know what I’ll have for breakfast, or if the truck will run. But I know that whatever happens, I will love you. Yesterday, now and tomorrow, and for the rest of time,” he continued, “You’re stuck with me,” Jake laughed.

“I will happily be stuck with you,” you replied through the tears that had welled up in your eyes.

Jake pulled you into a hug muttering, “I should go,” against the top of your head. Jake leaned back and cupped your face in both of his hands. “I,” he said, planting a kiss on your lips, “Love,” he added, kissing you again, “You,” he kissed you once more, deepening the kiss and keeping it going until you needed to come up for air. Once you did, you looked up to find him staring back at you with tearful green eyes, “I’ll miss you, mia cara. Don’t forget about me,” he said.

“I could never forget you. I’ll miss you too. Stay safe, come back to me,” you replied. Jake let go of you. He moved towards the door, bending down to get his backpack.

“Wait,” you called out. You walked towards your bag and fished out your Bible. As if he could tell what you had in mind, Jake took out his own Holy Book from the bag and held it out to you. You exchanged your Bible for his, letting your hands briefly caress the brown leather cover. Jake closed his bag, and as if willing himself to go through with it, walked out of your apartment and into his truck without looking back.

You finished packing late that night, barely having enough energy to shower and do your nightly skincare routine but once you laid in bed, staring into the darkness of your room, only lit by the dim red glow of your alarm clock, you found it impossible to fall asleep. You swung your legs off of the bed and pulled on your dressing gown, wrapping it tightly around you. You shuffled to the kitchen where you switched on the kettle and picked a tea bag out of your extensive collection. While the water boiled you closed your eyes, trying to think of what to do now that you were awake, suddenly getting an idea, you went searching for a pen and a sheet of paper.

You rooted through cupboards until you found what you were looking for, the Jane Austen fan in you cross that the only paper you seemed to have happened to be lined, and sat down at the kitchen table after pouring the water into a mug and onto your teabag. While the beverage steeped, you set about writing the letter.

“My Darling,

Forgive my letter writing, I am rusty. I used to have a penpal in high school but we were both inexperienced and I don’t think we followed all the rules.

I’m writing this letter because I love you.

And there really is no better way to do that than with the immortal genius of Jane Austen, “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

So let me tell you. I love your strength, your bravery, and your unwavering faith. You are always ready to lift me up when I need it, to carry other people’s burdens when they need a minute of respite. You are faithful, both to me and the Lord, never doubting or questioning your convictions and your beliefs. But I love the rest of you too, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, even the bits of you you don’t like and the bits you don’t know about. I love you now and I’ll love you forever.

My Darling, I want nothing more than to be the person you need me to be. I want to be your rock, your partner, your confidante and your wife. I want to make your house a home, to help you as we raise our future children, I want to shoulder your burdens so the weight can be halved. I want you to know how dearly I love you, and sadly, I find myself lacking.

The Bible says: “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. -- Ephesians 4:2”, Jake, my Love. I am sorry, I haven’t been gentle, and I certainly haven’t been patient.

I know you have been preoccupied with the mission and in all honesty, I have been throwing myself into the wedding planning to avoid thinking about it. I’m scared, I know this mission is dangerous. They always are, but this one is the worst so far. I know you can’t tell me, or you won’t so I don’t have to worry, but I find myself doing so anyway. I’m scared you won’t come back. I’m scared because you can’t call or text to tell me how it went and I’m scared I might not pray in time.

But instead of trusting the Lord to keep you safe, I let my worries get the better of me. I argued when I should have been spending my time with you, soaking up every moment I could spend in your arms. Jake, I said a lot of things I regret, and I walked away knowing that it would hurt you. I let myself believe you were uninterested and unwilling to marry me when I know it is untrue.

I can’t wait to be in your arms again and make good on my promises to do better, for you. To be more patient, and loving, and understanding, for you. Stay safe, I love you.

Faithfully ,and forever, yours,

Y/n”

You drank your cup of tea, trying to gauge whether or not you would be able to sleep if you went to bed now, but you knew deep down that your mind would not quieten down until the letter was delivered. In order to try and sleep that night, you decided you would have to hand-deliver it. Another idea struck you.

Standing from the table, you made your way into the bedroom. Sinking to your knees in your closet doorway, you dug through the basket you had there full of scarves, hats, and gloves. Pulling out the tan cashmere, you held it up to your face, pressing your nose into the clean fabric. It smelled like the fabric softener you used. A few months ago you left the scarf at Jake’s apartment and he had only just returned it to you. He said something about how it smelled like your perfume. Standing with the scarf in hand, you took it into the bathroom, spritzing it a few times with the expensive perfume that you saved for special occasions.

Before you could overthink it, you took the scarf and the letter, and headed to Bobby’s apartment. You knocked on the door and hoped that he would answer, you didn’t have the courage to deliver the letter in person.

Bob cracked the door open, his eyes looking tired, “Y/n? What are you doing here?”

Holding out the scarf and the letter, you said, “I just, I need you to give this to Jake for me tomorrow, before you leave for the mission,” looking down at the ground.

Bob didn’t respond for a moment, you figured he was looking at the scarf you had held out to him.

“Okay, is everything alright?” he asked.

You let out a sigh before answering, “Yeah, I’m just not ready to say goodbye yet.”

He nodded, “I understand, Maria and I Facetimed for the whole afternoon, and we only just said goodbye because she couldn’t stay awake any longer.”

You gave him a sad smile and he pulled you into a friendly hug, “We are going to be alright, Y/n, you’ll see.”

You smiled, “Thanks Bob, I hope you’re right.”

Stepping back from the hug, you handed him the scarf and letter, “Thanks again for doing this for me.”

“Of course,” he said, “You’d do the same for me right?”

“Any time,” you replied before turning and making your way back to the car.

----

Jake arrived home, tired and crabby. The road had been a pain, usually the night offered some respite against the traffic but that night, it was as though all the bad drivers San Diego had to offer had all decided to simultaneously congregate right at the time he had turned the key in the ignition. The fact that he wouldn’t see you in the morning was also weighing heavy on his chest, especially since the tension of your argument hadn’t quite dissipated yet.

He dropped his bag onto his sofa after taking out your bible. He looked at the book for a minute, the beautiful white colour of the hardback, the golden word written front and centre and when he opened he saw all the annotations and highlighted passages. Jake opened the first page and looked at the key. Something caught his eye, under all the usual colours and their explanation, Jake noticed a thin stripe of marker pen in his favourite shade of red, next to it, you had written an equal sign and his name.

Jake sat down on his couch, opening the book at random intervals to see what you had highlighted. It seemed like you had highlighted passages red just about anywhere for him, and made little notes, especially in the book of psalms, where you had written prayers for his safety, guidance and future in the margins.

He felt tears well up in his eyes, and a few seconds later, a fat tear fell onto the pages of the Bible. To avoid causing any more damage, Jake closed the book and got up from the sofa to make himself a cup of coffee. By the end of his third cup of the night, Jake sat down on his coffee table to write you a letter.

“Mia Cara,

I have never written a letter before in my life -- scratch that, I have. They made us write one to a president when I was in second grade. I picked Abraham Lincoln and spent most of the letter asking him why he wore such big hats -- but this felt right.

I just wanted to remind you, my angel, that I love you.

We both know I’m not good with words, I tend to put my foot in my mouth, or stammer and stutter on words we both know I can pronounce but nerves won’t let me, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be borrowing other people’s words to tell you how I feel towards you.

There is a poem by the Syrian poet Nizar Qabban I like that goes like this,

“In the summer

I stretch out on the shore

And think of you. Had I told the sea

What I felt for you,

It would have left its shores,

Its shells,

Its fish,

And followed me.”

I think of it whenever I pray because I wonder, if God didn’t know you, would he have wanted to come down and meet you? Especially when I tell him of your smile, as enticing as the ocean on a hot summer’s day. When I tell him of your eyes, blue like an oasis in the middle of a desert. Or your hair, golden like the rays of the California sun.

Would he have come down when I told him of your voice, sweet like honey. Or when I spoke about your hands, soft like silk and warm with love.

But of course He knows, because no one else could make a face as lovely as yours. No one else could create a being as kind, caring, and wonderful. And no one else would be good enough to bestow it upon me, to cherish and to love, to guide and care for for the rest of eternity.

Mia Cara, I love you. I want to be the man you deserve. I want to be everything you need and want and more, I want you to be able to come to me when you need help and know that I will be there to help you carry your burdens. But for that, I need to be more open with my emotions.

So, here it goes. I know it’s no excuse for not listening to you, but I am so scared about this assignment. Leading a mission is a lot easier when there’s nothing at stake, and while, in our line of work, we never truly get to no stakes, we sometimes get close enough that I can ignore the pit of panic in my stomach. But not for this one. I know I can’t tell you details but I think you know. You always know, you’re good at that, deciphering what people mean or feel without them needing to tell you. I’m sorry I relied on that instead of telling you. Telling you that I am terrified of having to tell Maria that Bob didn’t make it, or telling Annie that Rooster won’t come back home. I’m scared for the others too, but I won’t have to look their families in the eye across the Christmas table for the rest of my life.

I know it isn’t much, but admitting this too you feels both strange and freeing, I will keep working on this until being honest with my emotions feels normal. In the meantime, my Angel, I will think of you and pray for you until you are in my arms again.

Thank you for being my partner in life, love and faith. And soon, marriage.

Forever yours,

Jake”

Once finished, Jake sealed the letter in an envelope. He went to his bedroom, where he fished out one of his old Texas Longhorns sweaters. He picked the one you liked best, the one you would always steal whenever you were cold when you came over. Despite the amount of time Jake had owned the sweater for, it was still in relatively good condition, the orange colour of the fleece hoodie had been washed out a little, but the inside was still soft and wam, and since he had worn it only days prior, it still smelled like him.

He folded it up neatly and placed it in a plastic bag with the letter. Then, Jake picked up his keys from inside the lock and made his way to his truck. You would likely be in bed, and he didn’t want to disturb your sleep, so Jake drove to Beau’s. He knew the Admiral would be there to send you off, he got to base ridiculously early anyway, and he would never miss an opportunity to tell his little girl goodbye.

Jake rang the doorbell and Elisabeth opened the door. He silently handed her the bag, trying not to look her in the eyes when she looked inside. A sad smile made its way onto her face, and she brought her hand up to his face, “You’ll be okay, Jake,” she tried to reassure him. Jake nodded briefly, turning on his heels and walking back to his truck, hoping that Elisabeth couldn’t see him wiping tears away with the sleeve of his sweater.

----

Jake was hot. Well he knew that he was hot, but right now, he was sweating in his flight suit. The sun was beating down on him through the plexiglass of the cockpit canopy and the adrenaline and stress from the mission weren’t helping to cool him off any.

“Rooster, where are you man?” he called out through the comms, his voice straining against the Gs that he was fighting. He had just completed a bombing run with Rooster. The target was an enemy mine field just outside of a hostile enemy compound. The threat of SAMs was still present, but without the same risk as the uranium mission.

“On your six Hangman,” Bradley called back.

“Enemy aircraft inbound,” Bob’s voice called out through the comms, “Hangman watch your nose, he’s coming right at us.”

Jake’s right hand left the stick for a second to press against the patch on his chest before guiding his plane out of the climb he had been in, trying to make himself smaller for the enemy’s missile lock. The missile lock alarms in his F18 began going off just as Phoenix yelled, “Smoke in the air Hangman, evade, evade.”

Jake rolled the plane, hitting the button for flares quickly. He knew that it had been a close call because he could feel the heat from the explosion inside his cockpit.

Rooster’s voice confirmed it, “Jesus, Hangman, that was close.”

“Yeah, too close,” he said, bringing his plane around quickly to take on the 5th generation fighter, “Let’s take this guy down before he sends one of us home in a body bag.”

Jake tried to clear his mind and let instinct take over, he would need every ounce of skill and training that he had to take down the fighter in a dogfight, even with the backup of Rooster and Phoenix.

“Rooster, Phoenix, you two break right and left, let's try to box this guy in,” Jake said, his voice holding the authority he now possessed.

“Where does that leave you?” Bob chimed in.

“As the bait,” Jake responded, his mind drifting to you for a moment before the fifth generation fighter was making his way around for another pass at Jake. The letter he had received as well as the scarf had made him want to leave the mission all together and hug you. He had never contemplated going AWOL harder in his whole life. Deciding to trust God, he left with his team, praying every night that he would make it back to you.

The letter you had written made him tear up, the thought that you found yourself lacking hurt him, you were perfect, and he couldn’t wait to tell you that the next time he saw you. The soft cashmere of your scarf had been clutched tightly in his hand the entire flight to the ship. At night, he slept with it on top of his pillow, your sweet scent dragging him into a peaceful sleep every night.

—

You and Vegas had been split up as pilot and WSO, with the added animosity between the two of you and her efforts to break up your personal relationship, you felt it was time for a change. Your new pilot, Jensen Johns, callsign JJ, was a burly man. He was large for a fighter pilot, but he had a heart of gold and was known as the ship’s teddy bear. He had a wife and four kids waiting on him at home, you had seen the picture that he kept in the jet. You showed him the one of Jake and you sitting around the Christmas tree in your matching sweaters, Gio had taken it when you weren’t looking.

With the atmosphere in the plane less tense now that your pilot was not passive aggressively trying to ruin your life, the missions you flew felt better. The long range patrols and different training that they had you on were calm compared to the last mission you had flown. Often while you were in the air, your mind would wander to Jake.

The letter he had written you was beautiful, it made you wish you could have seen him one more time before he deployed. His sweatshirt was too big, and colour faded but you wore it to bed every night, even though it wasn’t regulation, the risk of getting caught was worth being wrapped in his familiar scent. You hadn’t heard anything about his dark hop and you were hoping that was a sign that it had gone well. Every night you prayed that God would bring the both of you home safely.

—

Jake forced the air he had been holding out of his lungs, this moment felt familiar. He was climbing, chasing the fifth generation fighter into the sun when he lost sight of it, “Phoenix, I can’t see him, how close am I?”

There was a second before she answered, “Ten feet, break right, break right.”

He didn’t second guess the advice of his teammate and immediately slowed down, pulling the jet off and to the right. As soon as he turned, the fifth gen was on him, “Bob, you’re going to have to get a lock on this guy, there’s no way I can keep evading him like this and he obviously doesn’t have plans of bugging out.”

“Copy, I’m working on it, Hangman. We have your back,” Bob replied.

Rooster’s panicked voice interrupted Jake’s train of thought, which had wandered to you, “I’ve got another one on the radar, we need to take this SOB down.”

“Shit,” Jake said, “Bob how’s that lock coming?”

Over the comms he heard Bob let out a quiet huff before responding, “I’m almost there, give me two more seconds.”

Phoenix’s voice called out over Bob, “Smoke in the air, smoke in the air, evade Hangman!”

“Dagger one defending,” he called out, deploying flares quickly. He glanced behind him several times until he saw the black smoke of the missile’s explosion.

“I’ve got a lock,” Bob said. Jake responded quickly, “Fire at will Bob, take this guy down.”

Bob fired on the jet, Phoenix and Bob were too close to the jet for him to have time to deploy flares and the missile made contact, “Splash one, splash one,” Rooster’s voice called out.

“Looks like number two is bugging out,” Bob said.

“Good,” Jake called back, “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

----

You rushed through the hull of the ship quickly, being sure to pick your feet up through the doorways or else you risked tripping. Everyone aboard the ship was rowdy and excited to disembark. You had only rejoined them for the six week duration of your mission, but most of the boat had been deployed for four months, needless to say, they were ready to see their families and friends.

As you made your way up a flight of stairs, rushing out on the deck of the ship, you were blinded by the rays of the California sun and deafened by the noise coming from shore. Lining the dock were the families of all the men and women stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. You and Jake hadn’t had any contact since he left for his dark hop, and he should have arrived back in California two weeks ago. He had promised to meet you when you disembarked the ship.

When your phone finally managed to pick up a signal, it blew up with notifications. Many from social media, but there was only one person’s contact you were waiting to see come across your screen. As you cleared everything away, trying to sort through all of the meaningless notifications, Jake’s name floated across the top of your screen with a newly delivered text.

Jakey <3: I’m here waiting for you. Got stuck in traffic so I’m towards the back of the crowd. Don’t worry, you’ll find me.

You smiled at your phone before sending a text of your own, I can’t wait to see you.

Locking the phone and slipping it back in your pocket, you gathered up your duffle bag from where you had dropped it on the ground. Using the large bag, you pushed your way through the crowded deck so that you were standing near the railing, looking out over the dock.

An hour later, when the boat had finally tied off at the dock, it was announced that everyone should disembark in an orderly fashion by squadron. You let out a small groan, the fighter pilots on board usually were one of the middle groups off in that case. Waiting your turn to walk down the gangplank, you kept checking your phone for new messages from Jake, but with each refresh of the app there was nothing new to note.

Disappointed at the lack of messaging, you leaned against the wing of one of the jets that was stowed on deck. If you were going to be required to wait for half the boat to disembark, you might as well be comfortable. By the time it was your turn to leave the ship, the crowd on the dock was beyond intense. There were families gathered around their service member, and people kept pushing and bumping into your short form. You stood on your tiptoes, trying to spot Jake over the crowd, when you heard it.

Over the crying and laughter around you, there were a group of voices singing, “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day. When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May…”

You pushed more eagerly through the crowd, only one man could be so flashy that he would sing to get your attention. Finally you broke through an edge and spotted Jake, surrounded by the rest of the original dagger squad. The whole group of men and women were singing, quite loudly and slightly off key, to the song Jake always said reminded him of you.

Letting out an excited squeal and laugh, you rushed over to them. Jake’s head snapped towards you when he noticed a blur moving quickly his way. As you launched yourself into his arms, he let out a loud laugh, spinning you around in a circle. The team cheered around the two of you, all of them happy that Jake’s mopey attitude would finally be a thing of the past.

When he set you back on your own feet, he leaned in and kissed you for all he was worth. You gasped into his mouth, your hand finding its way up and into his hair. Jake pulled you to him tighter, letting out his own quiet moan into your mouth. The two of you were lost in the kiss and you let out a disappointed huff when Jake pulled back from you suddenly. He turned to look over his shoulder, calling back to one of your friends, “I’m a little excited, if you didn’t want to see a show you shouldn’t have come.”

You let out a laugh as Jake set his attention back on you, “I missed you,” you said, pausing a second before adding, “I got your letter, you can always lean on me Jake.”

“I missed you too,” he replied quietly, his voice sounding a bit rough, “I got your letter too. You are perfect, there is no part of you that I find lacking in anything.”

A blush burned across your cheeks at his words, “I don’t want you to change yourself for me,” you said quietly.

“I’m not,” Jake replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m changing for both of us. I can’t keep bottling everything up, and you like to hear what I have to say, it's a win-win situation.”

You let out a quiet humm, “What’s the plan sailor?” you asked.

“I thought that you’d like to get out of here ma’am,” he said, smiling down at you, “I have a relaxing surprise planned for your grand return.”

“Then take me away,” you said, leaning up to place one more chaste kiss on his lips. Jake’s face split into a smile and he bent down to pick up your duffle bag off the ground. Taking your hand in his, the two of you lead the way back to his truck.

Bob joined you on your other side, “How was it Dove? Everything go alright?”

“Yeah, nothing too out of the ordinary, just flying long range patrols and doing a few bombing runs,” you replied, “How was it for you guys? Everything go according to plan?”

Bob stayed silent for a moment, “It went as well as it could have I think,” he paused, pointing a finger at Jake as he continued speaking, “This one decided to play the hero again, but we are all safe and sound now.”

You turned to look at Jake, “You did what?”

“I’m mission leader now, I have to protect my men,” he said, quietly, taking in the look on your face for a moment, he added, “I will always come back to you.”

You nodded, “You better, Jake, because I can guarantee you that if you don’t, I will be much worse than anything you could face on the other side.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “I know honey, you can be scary when you want to be.”

Once everyone had made it to the truck, you gave them all hugs and thanked them for coming to greet you before Jake helped you up into the passenger’s seat and shut the door. He drove you back to your apartment, your hand clasped tightly in his own. When you arrived, Jake only told you to, “Get ready for your surprise, bring something comfy and warm.”

You rolled your eyes at him before making your way into your bedroom. Standing under the spray of the shower, the scalding hot water was one of the most heavenly things you had ever felt. When you had thoroughly washed your tired body, you climbed out, towelling off before dressing in your favourite jeans and a T-shirt. You unzipped your duffle bag, pulling out the University of Texas sweatshirt that Jake had sent with your letter. Slipping it over your head, the oversized shirt fell to your mid thigh and you couldn’t help but smile at how much larger Jake was than you. Before leaving the bedroom, you grabbed a pair of sweat shorts for later.

You made your way into the living room, enjoying the look on Jake’s face when he saw you wrapped up in his sweatshirt, “Let’s get going, I don’t want to be late,” he said, his voice low and gravelly sounding.

The two of you made your way out of the apartment and climbed back into his truck.

“What’s that surprise you were talking about?” you asked, buckling yourself up inside Jake’s truck.

“Strap in, it’s a little way away, and we’re stopping by Costco for snacks,” Jake replied. He had been all smiles since telling you he was whisking you away for a romantic evening somewhere special. He had, however, refused to elaborate no matter how hard you tried to get him to slip up and reveal the surprise.

Jake had even taken your bag out of your hands, refusing to let you anywhere near the truck bed over which he had pulled the cover so you wouldn’t be able to peek, and climbed into the driver’s seat of his truck. He fiddled with his phone a little, pulling up a brand new playlist and attached his phone to the circular magnet fastened in his car’s vents on the console. He pressed shuffle and the first bars of Take Me Home, Country Roads began to play.

You relaxed into the seat, looking through the window at the views until Jake pulled into the Costco parking lot and handed you a list, “I need to get gas, so, this is the snack list, grab as much as you can and I will meet you in ten,” he said. Then, reaching into the glove box of his truck he pulled out his wallet and gave you his card, “You know the pin, right?” he asked.

“And how do you plan on paying for gas?” you asked slightly incredulously, and hoping that Jake might let you pay this once. True to his word, you had never actually needed to pay for anything since you had been with him and while nice at first, you wanted to return the favour.

“This is my debit card, I’ll get gas with the credit card. Now, go, we’re losing time. I don’t want to be late,” he said, leaning over to your side to kiss your cheek and unbuckling your seatbelt and opening your door at the same time. After practically being ejected from the truck, you left to get a trolley and entered the shop.

Having braved the Friday evening grocery store queues you resurfaced ten minutes later with three bags of snacks. Jake was waiting in one of the parking spots closest to the entrance. You handed him the card and the bags, knowing your fiancé was stubborn about not showing you what he kept in the truck bed and abandoning your fight.

Once he had hopped back into the driver’s seat and buckled up, Jake drove the two hours to your destination while humming to his playlist, looking at you out of the corner of his eye and sending you flirtatious smiles every few minutes. Eventually, he pulled into the Joshua Tree National park entryway with a grin.

“Are we going camping?” you asked.

“Something like that,” he smiled mischievously, “We’re not going far,” he added.

Jake continued down the drive to the Smith’s Ranch Drive-In Movie Theatre where he paid the ten dollar fee before reversing into one of the middle row parking spots.

“Movie starts in an hour, should give us plenty of time to get cosy,” he said, already climbing out of the cab and walking to the truck bed. You followed suit, eager to see what else your date entailed. Jake pulled the cover off, revealing two thin yoga mats, laid flat against the bed, partially covered by a bunched up duvet, four pillows and a couple of extra blankets. Jake looked at it with a slightly disapproving glint in his eye, “Must have moved during the journey,” he concluded, pulling back the duvet to show the fallen costco bags, which had spilled snacks over most of the makeshift sleeping area.

The two of you changed into your comfy clothes in the drive-in bathrooms, not your ideal place, but there was nowhere else to go, before making your way back to the projection site.

Your sweat shorts were just short enough that Jake’s sweatshirt hung down over them, making it appear like you had nothing on underneath. As you sauntered back up to the truck, the look on Jake’s face was priceless, “Don’t worry, I’m wearing shorts too,” you said, laughing a little.

He nodded, eyes wide, “I’m sure you are darlin’,” his accent thick in his voice. He provided you a hand to help pull you into the bed of the truck just in time for the movie to start. The Back to the Future Marathon started at seven sharp, and ended around one in the morning, after a short speech celebrating the release date of the first instalment of the trilogy and a short appearance by Christopher Lloyd to finish up the night.

“Didn’t know you liked Back to the Future that much,” you said, after most of the other cars had already driven off. Jake had pulled you into the covers with him so you laid together, facing each other, whispering in the darkness.

“Don’t hate me…” he replied, biting his lip with a guilty expression, “I despise it. I hate the premise. And why is Doc Brown hanging out around a teenager? Why is that truancy officer such a hard-ass? I just don’t get it,” he explained.

You looked at him in pretend offence, “How dare you?” you exclaimed.

“I know, I know,” he laughed, “Sue me. I think they’re bad films.”

“Then, why are we here?” you asked.

“Because, if the fact that you own this trilogy twice and that you proudly display the novelisation of this crime against cinema is anything to go by, this is your favourite movie,” he said.

“And you would sit through it all for me?” you asked, a smile on your face.

Jake let out a quiet laugh, “Honey, I’d do anything for you.”

You stayed silent for a moment, watching the man you loved so much before giving him a teasing smile, “Wonderful, I hear they’re showing Twilight in the cinema next week, I was going to drag Natasha along but…”

You sighed as you looked at him, suddenly growing more serious, “I missed you a lot” you said, the five words somehow not enough and perfectly fine at the same time. You would never be able to put what you had felt into words but when Jake spoke, you realised he understood perfectly.

“Yeah I missed you too. It felt awful not having you around, Bob and Rooster tried to help, but it didn’t do much for my mood,” he replied, “I don’t like being away from you,” he added.

You hummed, after a pause Jake spoke again, “I know we’re not supposed to before marriage, but what do you think of moving in together?” you raised an eyebrow, “We buy a house a little bit before the wedding and move in. We wouldn’t sleep in the same room until we say ‘I do’ obviously, but I don’t think I can be away from you for that long. I want to be able to wake up and see you in the kitchen, or come home after work and see you on the sofa watching that shitty tv show you like -- what’s the name -- the one with the visa applications and shit --”

“Ninety day fiancé?” you provided.

“Yes! That’s the one! -- I want to be able to come home and see you watching that. Spending any time away from you is unbearable, baby,” he finished.

You thought over his words for a moment, “What kind of house are we looking for then?” you asked. Jake smiled brightly, his happiness practically radiating through the darkness. He snaked one arm around your waist and slid you closer.

“I was thinking something a little further away from base,” He said, kissing you, “with a garden” he added, kissing you again, “and enough bedrooms for a truckload of kids,” he said, kissing you longer this time.

You came up for air, “And how many kids is that?” you asked.

“Twenty to thirty?” he replied, grinning at you.

“Oh my, we should get started on that soon after the wedding then,” you laughed.

“It’s up to you, but I wouldn’t be upset if we started within a year,” he grew serious, “I want kids, Y/n, I’m ready,” he said, falling back onto the mats and turning on his back to look up at the sky.

“I’d like a little time to just be your wife I think. But I wouldn’t want to wait longer than a year,” you replied, lifting yourself up on your elbow and using your other hand to brush a loose hair out of his face.

“Isn’t your contract coming to a close soonish?” he asked.

“Two years,” you replied, “Why?”

“Just asking,” he said, then, after a pause, “It’s up to you what you want to do, but if you wanted to stay at home, I wouldn’t have a problem with that.”

“How about we get married first, then I decide?” you replied, having made your decision not to renew your contract as soon as the words had left his mouth.

Jake hummed, “So I think Navy blue and white is a little ironic…” he said, “Maybe we can add another colour, how about brown?”

“I like brown, makes it a little woodsy,” you agreed, laying back down onto the bed. Jake removed the hand behind his head and extended his arm over your pillow, silently asking you to cuddle close to him.

You eventually drifted off to sleep, the excitement of being home and the comfortable atmosphere with Jake letting your body relax more than it had in weeks. Jake gently woke you once the drive-in parking lot had cleared out, and you slept the entire way home. Instead of bringing you back to your apartment, he brought you back to his, tucking you gently under the covers of his own bed. In the morning, you found him sprawled out on the couch, one arm behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, as small snores escaped him.

#fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #fanfiction #hangman x reader #original fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman top gun

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i--antimony · 11 months

Text

[thru gritted teeth] tuesday! again! no problem!

laptop charger got delivered over the weekend so i once again can use my computer. also, revival of the 'playing' section of tuesdaypost!!

listening: more friends at the table but at a slower clip, on episode 41 now though!!! that's like 2/3 of the way thru! then i can power thru partisan and finally get to palisade lol. also new SSHG this week was fun.

reading: didn't read anything besides comsol documentation this past week EXCEPT i did go to the library today to get some paperwork notarized and while i was there i got some books as a treat. finally going to read every heart a doorway, and i also grabbed haunting of hill house, the gnostic gospels (pagels), and a beefy nonfiction book on the fucked up exploits of the roman catholic church through the ages. book :)

this was also my first time in my local library since it was remodeled and it's sooooo nice inside, im kinda obsessed

watching: some nicole rafiee videos, also the age gap one and the fatphobia one just as some easy background noise. also started on the well there's your problem train again

youtube

playing: BOLD RETURN OF THE PLAYING SECTION!!! i finally started playing disco elysium. it's fun! i am definitely enjoying it so far! wow my computer can Barely handle it!! it's crashed at least twice and it took some settings finagling to get it to run with any sort of bearable frame rate. quick save is my best friend but i have had to repeat convos a few times. it also drains the shit out of my laptop battery but that might just be normal for Games. my first shot at playing i died after trying and failing to ask the sweet old lady for money which rules. i also understand now why everyone would die for kim kitsuragi.

making: compromise for resurrection of the playing section means that i made Nothing this week. i did start Posting some old art on insta and here though. it's not too late for me to become an art influencer or whatever

misc: gritted teeth because hoooo baby i have been Doing Tasks. had to get some aforementioned paperwork notarized, had to file an insurance claim (waiting with baited breath to see how much my premium will skyrocket lol) (i did have the funniest interaction with a long island mechanic. just some old guy named vinnie, extremely italian, was asking what he though out of pocket price to fix would be and he was like "why the fuck do we even pay for insurance if you're not gonna use it" like yeah, fair,), miscellaneous household tasks because Puppy is A Lot Of Work, driving upstate this weekend for my brother's graduation, only like a week and a half before going abroad for two weeks (!!!), accidentally skipping a tabletop game because my schedule is a disaster rn,

sbahj 'it just keeps happening bro' dot jpeg. puppy tax

#tuesdayposting #Youtube

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somewhat-insane · 5 months

Text

Shadows of the Beach: Chapter Three

Here's the masterpost

Belated Meetings

Pairing: Ao Lie/Sun Wukong/Macaque

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Tags: Idiot gays being idiots and gay, Playful Banter, Teasing, Awkwardness, Jealousy, Mildly Unreliable Narrator

A/N: I'm super sorry this took so long, my laptop charger broke and then editing took a lot longer than I anticipated BUT, luckily for all of you, this is a big(ger) one. About 4,000 words over what I usually try to post. Plus, we get some cute moments between Wukong and Macaque AND we finally get to meet Ao Lie!! Oh! Plus, there's a reference to OSP's JTTW recaps!

In all honesty, Macaque probably should’ve seen this coming.

Or, heard, at the very least, as the large army donned in heavy celestial armor wasn’t exactly known for their silence when marching.

But, of course, a certain someone couldn’t stay quiet to save his life, not when he was as wound up as this, at least.

And for some reason, Macaque found himself tuning into Wukong’s rambled words, his glowing ears angled back towards the king, flicking as they picked up the distant sound of hurried footsteps but, uncharacteristically, the dark-furred monkey hadn’t thought anything of it, too wrapped up in his thoughts about what was being said to him.

Originally, Macaque had planned to listen and try to figure out the patterns the guards followed. He didn’t communicate this plan to Wukong but he feels that even if he had it wouldn’t have stopped the other from straying from it. And as far as Macaque was aware that would count as a new personal record for how quickly Wukong could stray from a plan.

Listening, apparently, was kind of difficult when your very unstealthy companion won’t stop rambling about how he’s going to “take you and Ao Lie for coffee” and then he gets sidetracked talking about how “wait, no, Ao Lie doesn’t like coffee” and how “it would be better to go for cheese tea,” even though “Ao Lie hasn’t tried cheese tea before- or milk tea. I wonder what he’ll think about it.”

“Quiet,” Macaque had hissed, smacking Wukong upside the head. This was, admittedly, a pointless endeavor but he did enjoy seeing the way Wukong pouted which Macaque definitely didn’t think was cute, and if anyone said otherwise Macaque would kill them.

He should’ve known from experience that Wukong wouldn’t listen. He never did. No matter how many times Macaque tried to warn him about something when they were younger, Wukong would always insist that Macaque was just being a “grumbletonian.” Now he just called him a buzzkill. Those shows Wukong liked to watch were surely the cause of Wukong’s declining vocabulary, but with the memes MK had been sending, Macaque wasn’t much better these days either.

Had you asked, Macaque would’ve told you–not without ample snark in his tone–that Wukong was just far too annoying and loud to tune out. But he knew his subconscious reasoning for listening to the other ran deeper than that. Perhaps the familiarity had been alluring enough that he found himself falling into old habits, or maybe Macaque was still in the mindset of trying to find Wukong’s weaknesses and was listening in the hopes that something would slip.

You could argue over the real reason forever but, either way, the baseline was that Macaque had been… distracted. Loathe as he did to admit it.

The monkey’s dark tail flicked at the air behind him as he tried to ignore how reminiscent this felt compared to past missions with Wukong. When they were younger. This was different though. He had to remind himself of that.

Back then he convinced Wukong to let him tag along specifically because he cared about his king and would do anything he could to ensure his safe return, but now he tagged along so MK wouldn’t be abandoned again (as much as Macaque insisted Wukong was still bad company, the kid cared for the fool and Macaque was weak when it came to what MK wanted.)

And if Macaque also got to death glare Ao Lie when they finally found him; that was just a bonus. And it definitely, definitely wasn’t because he was jealous. Because that would imply he had something to be jealous of, and that definitely wasn’t true because he didn’t even want to be able to run his fingers through Wukong’s soft, golden fur like old times, and- … Okay, Macaque wasn’t really helping his case here.

When Macaque couldn’t convince Wukong not to travel to the celestial realm alone, he insisted Wukong at least let him come along to help him sneak around. (Additionally, when Wukong insisted he was ‘the Great Sage Equal to Heaven’ and prattled on about not needing to sneak around, Macaque was there to roll his eyes and point out that the celestial realm was most likely a bit scattered after the Jade Emperor’s death and might not be too receptive of visitors right now, especially not the likes of Wukong. (Wukong was incredibly offended by this.) Macaque even brought up the fact that they might try to pin the emperor's death on Wukong himself and while Macaque wouldn’t necessarily blame them, it would make things a deal more complicated.)

Having a more advanced range of hearing and the ability to travel by shadow greatly increased the chance they would get out of this without Wukong getting trapped under a mountain again, no matter how funny that would be to Macaque.

Idly, he wondered how the court would go about punishing Wukong in the emperor’s absence. Not that the emperor was very key in punishing Wukong in the first place. (Wukong would beg to differ, the furnace may not have killed him but being stuck in there was absolute hell, and he would know.) He wondered if they could even punish him.

Of course, unlike some people, Macaque wasn’t foolish enough to entertain such a thought process and swiftly banished it to focus on more important things. Such as, their current predicament: being surrounded by celestial guards in the courtyard with sharp-looking spears pointed at them, which Wukong mused was oddly reminiscent of the ‘warm’ reception he got at the Dragon Palace of the East Sea.

If he wasn’t in such a jittery mood, he might’ve made a joke about looking so tasty everyone wanted to turn him into a kebob. Which surely would’ve rewarded him a punch in the face from Macaque.

Surprisingly, Macaque noticed, Wukong didn’t immediately lash out at them as he had expected. Macaque had prepared himself to have to be the voice of reason and keep Wukong from going on a murdering spree; something he was all too keen to do when he was younger. But, for once, Wukong was still.

Well, mostly. Out of the corner of his eye, Macaque could see the way Wukong’s tail twitched impatiently, annoyed at this interruption in their plan but not necessarily surprised. And Macaque could tell Wukong was weighing his options, kill all the guards and find Ao Lie sooner but risk being punished or be patient and not find Ao Lie sooner but don’t get punished.

It was, indeed, a toughy.

Macaque must admit he was impressed by how much progress Wukong had made in controlling his impulses.

Of course, he wasn’t about to tell Wukong that. Ever. That joke of a man soaked up praise like a sponge. And if he knew Macaque thought anything even remotely positive about him, Wukong’d never let him live it down.

The celestial armies had grown a lot less afraid of Wukong after his journey had tamed him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still capable of all that destruction that had once been whispered about behind closed doors and in banquets as kings bemoaned the status they had lost as a result of Wukong killing thousands of their men.

Not that they hadn’t deserved it, Macaque thought, but blood was always so hard to clean out of Wukong’s fur. Especially considering he was ticklish and would squirm out of Macaque’s hold.

It was like trying to wash a cat.

Speaking of Wukong, said monkey took a deep breath in through his nose, closing his eyes to allow himself a moment of composure–something his master had tought him, no doubt–before he opened his eyes and plastered a strained grin onto his face that probably only added to the intimidation factor by making Wukong look unhinged. Though, that was probably his intent the entire time, “Fellas! Great to see you!”

His words earned nothing more than glares from behind helmets.

“Aw, why the cold shoulder? I thought we were all good!” Wukong pouts theatrically, making Macaque sigh and facepalm, grumbling a string of curses to himself. How did he constantly find himself in these situations? With Wukong no less. And they called him the theater kid, Macaque lamented, running his fingers through his dark fur as he took it upon himself to study the guards around them for weakness. One of the two monkeys had to pretend not to be an idiot, after all.

Despite their attempts to hide it and seem composed, Macaque noticed some of the guards sharing nervous glances.

Wukong, the self-absorbed jerk he was, noticed this and couldn’t help but puff his chest out pridefully at the effect he had on the guards, happy his reputation still rang strong within certain groups. His fur ruffled like the feathers of a proud mother hen, and Macaque found himself rolling his eyes almost affectionately at the familiar sight.

One of the guards went to speak up after a moment, clearing their throat and straightening their posture, adjusting the spear in their hands and keeping it pointed noticeably at Macaque instead of Wukong.

The idea that they would threaten Macaque to keep Wukong in line made the golden-furred monkey’s stomach twist uncomfortably as he grit his teeth, his tail lashing behind him. Despite whatever bad blood still rested within the unspoken words hanging between them, Wukong still didn’t like dragging people into his messes, and that included Macaque.

Admittedly, the tactic was smart, but he couldn’t help but wonder how they knew it would bother him so much. Though, of course, they were probably still working on outdated information from when Wukong and Macaque had been an inseparable duo. He had to swallow down his emotions to keep from spiraling, attempting to focus on the guard’s gruff voice, “What business do you have here, demons?”

With a still-furrowed brow, Wukong forced his scowl down into another grin that looked more like a grimace as he attempted a low whistle through his clenched teeth, “Demons, ey? ‘S been a while since anyone called me a demon. My name was always seen to be far more terrifying.”

Macaque didn’t say anything, just leveling Wukong with an unimpressed glare, something Wukong pouted in response to, though there was something playful about it as his tail swayed, his faux grin falling as he switched tactics, rolling his shoulders back and humming contentedly in response to the satisfying pop he was rewarded with, the noise making Macaque’s ear twitch and, at some point alone the line, his gaze had drifted away from the guards and to Wukong, studying his form that, to the untrained eye would seem casual and confident, but Macaque saw the small telltale signs that said otherwise.

Offering an exaggerated sigh, Wukong leaned against Macaque, much to the shadow monkey’s chagrin, “Oh, how cruelly the world doth treat us, my friend.”

Rolling his eyes, mildly amused with Wukong’s theatrics, Macaque let his companion continue, seeing it as the idle distraction it was. This, at least, Macaque remembered, and he was slightly amused it hadn’t changed. Essentially, Wukong was making a plan. And while he wasn’t the best at doing so, Macaque had to admit he was curious enough to entertain him in this. Just this once, he told himself, despite remembering thinking the same thing many years ago

Shifting his gaze to the nearest guard, Wukong spoke once again, “If you lot must know, we’re here to see Ne Zha.”

The guard that had had the guts to speak responded with a deep frown, the corners of his mouth creasing and Wukong could just barely see the muscles in his jaw twitch as he grit his teeth. Seems like this one was easily irritated, Wukong observed, trying to hide the mischievous grin that threatened to form on his face as the guard continued, “And what business-”

Wukong groaned, covering his mouth with his hand to hide his grin even as his tail swayed with amusement, something Macaque easily picked up on and, while he admired the dedication to the craft, he was left to wonder when Wukong grew patient enough to pull such tricks instead of just punching through all of his problems. Sure, Wukong had been confident before, but he was confident in the way that he would thoughtlessly challenge the Buddha instead of thinking things through. He always ended up succumbing to stage fright whenever he was supposed to act on something other than his impulses.

“Look, I don’t have time for this so let’s cut to the chase,” Wukong huffed, crossing his arms after he had finally schooled his expression into a frown, “if you let me, Sun Wukong, the Great Sage,” Macaque rolled his eyes at the name drop; as if the guards weren’t already well aware of who they were dealing with and what he could do, Macaque thought sarcastically, “and my friend, the six-eared Macaque,” this part gave Macaque pause as he wasn’t expecting to be included in Wukong’s attempts to intimidate them and he definitley wasn’t expecting to be referred to as a friend.

“go about our business, we won’t kill you…” he paused, pursing his lips and squinting his eyes in thought, “probably.”

Macaque huffed out a dry laugh, finally playing along with Wukong by letting a sharp-toothed grin spread over his face.

“Speak for yourself,” he purred maliciously as he made eye contact with one of the guards, letting his eyes flash violet for a moment as he relished in the way they tensed and fumbled with their weapon.

He felt Wukong’s tail brush against his leg as the appendage swayed more adamantly, not doing much to hide Wukong’s joy at the moment. Whether it was because Macaque was joining in or just because of the way the guard acted, Macaque didn’t know. Nor did he want to.

Normally, Macaque would’ve shot Wukong a glare for touching him, but instead, he just gave an almost fond sigh as he shook his head.

Okay, maybe he understood why Wukong liked doing this. They were all just so easy to scare, it was honestly hilarious. Macaque’s thoughts were interrupted as another voice cut into the tense silence.

“We know who you are,” one brave-sounding guard said, looking ready to thrust his spear into Wukong’s chest.

Wukong hummed in amusement. Brave, but dumb, he noted, as that guard was one of the only ones pointing their spear at Wukong instead of Macaque. Obviously, they hadn’t done their research. Not that they would’ve needed to. It’d been a long time since he’d genuinely attacked the celestial realm… unless you counted stealing the map which he still insisted was necessary and no one died which was… impressive to say the least considering it was something Wukong was involved in. Welp, Wukong thought, might as well use this guard to teach the others a lesson.

In one swift movement, Wukong moved to be closer to the guard and grabbed the spear, yanking it so the guard stumbled forward. Wukong let the glamours fall from his eyes, the ominous red glow bouncing off of the helmet and the wide eyes of the being in front of him.

“And what exactly do you think this little toy is going to do to me?” Wukong spoke, his voice menacingly deep in a way that would shake someone right down to their core. Just the sound of it even had Macaque’s fur standing on end, though, possibly not from fear. Wukong grabbed the guard’s head to keep them still as he tore the spear from their grip, spinning it in his hold so the business end would be pointed directly at them. But before Wukong could plunge it into their skull, the sound of a familiar voice ringing out across the courtyard made him freeze.

“Halt!” it had called out.

The golden-furred monkey sucked in a sharp, almost pained-sounding breath through his teeth. And while Macaque and Wukong hadn’t been friends for centuries and had long since lost the ability to tell just with a look what the other was thinking, it wasn’t hard to guess what that reaction meant.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me…” Wukong grumbled as he turned on his heel to regard the figure stomping towards them with a dog at his heels, his aggressive nature startling some of the guards who immediately parted to allow the imposing figure and his companion to step into the circle they had ‘trapped’ the two spiritual primates in.

“Erlang!” Wukong chimed through grit teeth, “How’ve you been old friend?”

“I assure you we are nothing of the sort, simian,” Erlang huffed haughtily, turning his nose up at Wukong in disgust, “for your benefit, I hope you have a valid reason for threatening my guards.”

“Mmm, yeah, see, you’re just gonna love this. Super funny story really I-” Wukong was about to respond sarcastically but paused, pursing his lips and furrowing his brow as he took in Erlang’s disheveled appearance, his hair unkempt and bags under his eyes, even keeping up his regal posture appeared to be exhausting to him.

Despite the incredibly small pang of sympathy he felt toward the guy, Wukong couldn’t help but snort in amusement, whatever he was planning to say immediately leaving his brain, “did your gold fish get away or something?”

An amused grin played on Macaque’s lips in response to Wukong’s reference to “Guan-I-woke-up-like-this-yin”.

Erlang lacked the grace Guanyin had even in those moments though.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Erlang sighed with clear annoyance at the situation unfolding before him. An understandable reaction to being in Wukong’s presence, Macaque mused, his grin still present.

“For the love of- I do not have time for your pathetic attempts at humor, monkey,” Erlang growled. And Wukong couldn’t help but wonder if Erlang found himself humorous, because if that was the case, well, Wukong had some news to give him.

“Clearly,” Wukong responded, gesturing to Erlang’s… everything.

With an incredibly irritated sigh, Erlang crossed his arms.

“Not that it concerns you,” Erlang grits out, eye twitching in irritation, “but not only have I been trying to clean up Azure’s mess–which I can only assume you had ample part in–but I also have to take over some of my uncle’s previous duties for the foreseeable future. Which, even with his power locked away, are not things that should be taken lightly.”

“Right, right, for sure,” Wukong hummed, nodding along but making it very clear he wasn’t actually listening, “so, obviously you have better things to do than deal with two michevious little monkeys, and we should just waltz on through and-”

Wukong was cut off as the guards all step closer to the pair, their spears glinting in the light and making Macaque subconsciously step closer to Wukong, bumping their shoulders together, making both of them tense at the contact.

Something about this was far too reminiscent and the two immediately stepped away.

Glancing at Macaque, Wukong’s tail twitched as if wanting to curl around him in some form. When they were younger, he always had to be touching Macaque in some way, shape, or form, be it holding his hand and tugging him along or wrapping his tail around his ankle, wrist or tail. It was just instinct though and Wukong had to remind himself of that. He had to remind himself he didn’t want to be touching Macaque and even if he did, he couldn’t. The wall between them had very briefly been breached–on accident, mind you–but it was already being very quickly rebuilt. Stronger, this time.

“I’m afraid I can not let you do that,” Erlang finally responded, arms folded behind his back.

Wukong huffed, his grin growing more strained by the second as he kept his eyes on the spears closest to Macaque. While Macaque was ageless, he could still be harmed and killed. And for some odd reason, Wukong refused to let that happen again. He also refused to think about it too much.

“Yeah?” Wukong laughed humorlessly, unglamoured eyes glaring at the guards, “and why’s that?”

“To let two of the most notorious trouble-makers roam the celestial realm freely during the current circumstances would be incredibly stupid.”

“Good thing you’re incredibly stupid then,” Wukong grumbled before sighing, “look, man…”

Erlang’s eye twitched at being addressed so informally by the monkey but he let it slide, if only so he could try and get the two out of the celestial realm as soon as possible.

“We just want to talk to Ne Zha,” Wukong continued, going for civil and unassuming. Succeeding about as well as you’d expect someone with his reputation could.

Erlang’s eyes narrow, “the celestial realm has fallen prey to your tricks far too many times, monkey, I plan to bring an end to that.”

“Pfft- don’t flatter yourself.”

Unsurprisingly, this earns Wukong a glare from Erlang. He expected a glare from Macaque as well but… Macaque had his hand over his mouth and an arm wrapped around his torso as he basically vibrated as he tried to contain his laughter. Well, at least he was enjoying himself, Wukong thought, trying not to show the pride that bubbled up inside of him at being able to make the other laugh though, for a moment he did consider the possibility that Macaque was, per usual, laughing at him but that was something that could wait until later.

“I would not suggest letting your hubris get the best of you. Currently,” Erlang hums, summoning a spear and expertly twirling it in his hold, “you are on… ideal terms with the celestial realm after your companionship with the great monk. Your friend… less so after that little stunt he pulled with the Lady Bone Demon.” This made Macaque’s fur bristle and he had half the mind to correct the celestial but he still held his tongue, knowing, from having read the Journey to the West, that Erlang was a force to be reckoned with. Wukong, despite his teasing nature, clearly knew this too as he stayed silent and allowed Erlang to finish his point, a grace Wukong was not willing to grant to many. “Even so, I assure you no harm will come to either of you if you return to the mortal realm. You are not the only immortals who are being kept out for the foreseeable future.”

“Ah, right,” Wukong hums, “gotta keep that Jade Emporer power safe, hmm? Can’t have someone stealing it. Especially not a little, harmless, monkey. I mean, that’s why you have to keep us out, right? Because otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to stand a chance against us.”

Erlang narrowed his eyes, “Keeping you out is a precaution, we are more than capable of detaining you again if it comes to it. It’s a very thin sense of respect that keeps us from doing so anyway.”

Wukong hummed, though it was clear in the way his brow creased that the idea of being trapped again struck a cord within him. His fingers twitched at his side and he ached for the weight of his staff in his hands. He wasn’t powerless by any means of the word, but it always felt nice to have a weapon he was confident in wielding. His fists were always a good substitute though.

“We would trap you under a mountain again long before we let something happen,” Erlang reiterated, mildly aware of the effect his words had on Wukong. Defiance and pride sparked through his eyes as he barely held back from snarking about how Wukong had lost his edge after all these years.

“Hmm, well, in that case…” Wukong’s brow furrowed as he closed his eyes, a rare thoughtful look pulling at his expression as if he was honestly trying to puzzle out a solution to this conundrum or just trying to calm himself down. Still, the look was fleeting, and within a few seconds, his eyes had opened with a challenging glint.

At that moment Macaque was sure he saw a slight shift, almost as if Wukong’s frame flickered for a moment.

As a companion to that sight, he heard the tell-tale chime of Wukong using his magic.

Golden smoke swirled around Wukong’s feet to add to the odd spectacle but the monkey did his best to swat the clouds away with his tail, trying to hide… something.

While suspicious and odd, it must have worked well enough considering Macaque couldn’t figure out for the life of him what Wukong had done before his attention was drawn away once Wukong spoke again, his ears pitching forward instinctively after being pulled so suddenly from his thoughts.

“Gotta catch me first!” And before either Macaque or Erlang could say anything to stop him, (as if anything they said would be able to stop him anyway) Wukong jumped up into the air and easily landed on his Nimbus, darting off in the opposite direction he and Macaque were originally headed. Which was just really annoying on top of impractical.

“What the- Get him!” Erlang yells, he and the rest of the guards quickly moving to chase after the elusive monkey, leaving Macaque alone in the courtyard.

Abandoned again, Macaque mused with a sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest, annoyance bubbling up in his chest at the familiar situation.

But that feeling was short-lived as none other than Wukong suddenly popped up beside him in a puff of golden smoke and grabbed Macaque’s hand, tugging him in the direction they had originally been headed, his face screwed into an expression of intense concentration as he used his knowledge of the celestial realm to map out exactly where they were and where it would be most tactical to head toward next.

“Wha- Wukong??”

“Clone,” Wukong responded, gesturing back toward the way his clone went and offering very little more in terms of explanation, leaving Macaque to feel mildly annoyed that Wukong didn’t even try to communicate that–the man has telepathy, it couldn’t have been that hard to just mentally tell Macaque “hey, I’m about to make a clone to lead them away but don’t worry, I’m not actually ditching you,” but like, whatever–as he dragged Macaque through a large ornate doorway and into a long and equally impressive hallway, briefly glancing at Macaque to offer a task, “tell me if you hear them coming back our way.”

Macaque opened his mouth to argue, his brows furrowing as he glared intently at the back of Wukong’s head when the golden-furred monkey turned his attention forward, but essentially he decided against saying anything. Instead, he let his ears fan out, closing his eyes and surprisingly trusting Wukong to guide him during his moment of slight vulnerability.

He heard the group's loud footsteps moving away and Wukong's clone's laughter, which abruptly ceased, accompanied by the sound of something poofing. There was a brief pause before Erlang groaned, his annoyance at having been bested by Wukong again incredibly clear, but he didn’t guide the army back towards where they had been before, knowing well enough that the real Wukong could be miles away by then.

Reluctantly, he conceded and told a few of his best soldiers to keep their eye out for the mischievous duo. Macaque allowed himself to bask in a brief moment of satisfaction at that, ignoring the feelings that threatened to rise to the surface if he thought too much about the two of them being a duo. He blinked open his eyes and focused back on the Wukong in front of him, the real Wukong. Macaque pursed his lips in brief thought before huffing out a soft chuckle.

Well played, Wukong, he thought, well played.

Finally, after a while of running, Wukong slowed down and the two continued to walk in silence for a while before Macaque cleared his throat to catch Wukong’s attention. It worked and Wukong looked back at him with an unspoken question clear in his eyes, only for Macaque to respond by pointing at their still-connected hands.

The golden monkey, much to Macaque’s annoyance, stopped walking after looking down at their hands, his brow furrowing in confusion as he tried to puzzle out what was wrong with the situation.

They were holding hands, so what? They used to hold hands all the time when they were frie- oh. Oh. Right. Right… not friends anymore. Just… barely allies. Wukong pointedly ignores the feelings swirling in his chest at that reminder.

His face flushed slightly in embarrassment at his forgetfulness as he pulled his hand away, wondering why Macaque hadn’t pulled away earlier and instead chose to point it out to Wukong. Distastefully, Wukong wondered if Macaque was afraid enough of him to believe he would lash out at the action. However, that couldn’t be the case because Macaque regularly picked fights with Wukong and pushed him to his limits… still, the question lodged itself into Wukong’s mind and he knew he wouldn’t be forgetting about it anytime soon. He still couldn’t get that image of Macaque cowering away from his fist during the Samadhi fire incident of his head. Among… other images.

Wukong cupped his hand in the other, trying to ignore the lingering feeling of Macaque’s touch on his palm, and turned away from Macaque, fur noticeably poofed up as he grumbled something that almost sounded like an apology as he sped down the hallway to put distance between them.

Macaque couldn’t help but snort, rolling his eyes as he slipped into the shadows to trail after Wukong more easily. Once Wukong had finally slowed back down to a more natural walking pace, Macaque emerged, making his presence known to the distracted monkey by brushing his tail against Wukong’s, making him jump and whip his head around, his momentary surprise melting away as his gaze hardened into a glare.

“Jerk,” Wukong mumbled, crossing his arms and looking away with a pout.

“Coward,” Macaque responded playfully, watching in satisfaction as Wukong’s shoulders relaxed slightly and he brought his arms back down to his sides, still looking annoyed and, to be honest, Macaque couldn’t tell if it was because of him or because being in the celestial realm generally set Wukong on edge, as much as the golden monkey liked to pretend that it didn’t.

Another moment of silence passed, this one almost comfortable as they walked side by side, a noticeable distance between them that hadn’t been there when they were younger.

Macaque was annoying, but Wukong had to admit he enjoyed the more casual banter they shared now that they were on speaking terms again. It was far better than having to listen to words chock-full of hurtful intent. No one knew how to get under Wukong’s skin better than Macaque did. And vice versa he liked to believe.

“So…” Macaque starts, once again being the one to break the silence, “what’s the plan?”

“Plan?” Wukong asks, prompting Macaque to raise a brow at him, “oh- right! The plan! Uh…”

Wukong stopped walking, pursing his lips in thought.

“Oh for-” Macaque grumbled, running a hand over his face, “you don’t even have a plan!?”

“I didn’t have time to make a plan!” Wukong insists, gesturing wildly in the air as if that would make Macaque look past his ignorance.

Macaque rolled his eyes with a snort, “Yeah, seems like a common thing with you.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Wukong huffed, gritting his teeth and crossing his arms. Okay, so maybe they weren’t fully past hurtful words.

“What do you think it’s supposed to mean?” Macaque asked rhetorically, glaring at Wukong as he mimicked him and crossed his arms as well.

Frowning, Wukong started walking again, eyes glued ahead as he felt anger boiling to life in his chest, “For the record, I did have a plan for the Samadhi fire.”

“Sure you did,” Macaque hummed with a shrug, following behind Wukong, the distance between them increasing and Wukong feared that was true in more ways than one. Still, despite knowing it would only deepen the ravine between them, Wukong couldn’t keep himself from adding: “And it would’ve worked if you hadn’t intervened!”

“Really?” Macaque chuckled darkly, stepping in front of Wukong and placing a hand on his chest to get him to stop as well, the touch making Wukong tense, looking at Macaque with a furrowed brow as a growl threatened to start up in his throat, “Even if you had gotten the ring out of the dragon girl and into you, you don’t have the same ‘dragon heritage’ that kept her alive. The Samadhi Fire is the only fire that can hurt you. For all we know, you could very well have died. And you would’ve taken reality as we know it down with you.~”

Wukong stared at Macaque for a moment with a shocked expression, his brows raised as he looked into Macaque’s eyes which glinted in cruel amusement, something that stoked the growing flame of Wukong’s conflicted rage, a mixture of shock that Macaque knew that and confusion at why he’d bring it up mixing in the emotional stew.

Finally, Wukong’s warring emotions settled into bland irritation, though there was no doubt something more explosive brewing under the surface as his brow furrowed and he looked away, taking in a shuddering breath before grabbing Macaque’s wrist and looking back towards him with a glare,

“I’m sure you would’ve loved it if that were the case,” Wukong grit out with a huff, pulling Macaque’s hand off him and shouldering past him aggressively. Macaque stayed standing there for a moment, a conflicted expression on his face as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, considering Wukong’s words. Not because they held any merit, mind you, but because he couldn’t figure out if Wukong meant the part about him dying or the part about reality being destroyed. Not that it particularly mattered which one since Macaque didn’t care for either. But it’s not like he could just admit that now, could he?

With a confused frown, Macaque decided it was not worth it to care and turned to continue following Wukong, leaving the tense silence to fester between them.

Admittedly, Wukong did seem to have some sort of odd method to his madness. One that only he could follow, no doubt, but it was there.

Having been in the celestial realm much longer than Macaque, Wukong had some sense of where things were and where Ne Zha would most likely be, so he had taken the lead. Up until this far, walking through a long outdoor hallway with ornate vine-covered pillars, they’d just explored various gardens and studies.

“Considering that kid can’t take a break for the life of him,” Wukong had said, momentarily forgetting about the words that still hung between them in favor of focusing on something he might actually have the power to fix, for once, “he’s probably tasked himself with guarding the Jade Emperor’s power.”

“If you knew that then didn’t we just go to the Jade Emperor’s power in the first place?” Macaque asked, much less willing to pretend that things were fine between them. Not right now, at least. It was easier to pretend when their common denominator, MK, was there. Or maybe in the rare moments where they sat on opposite ends of the couch, monkeys curled up on their laps and draped over their shoulders as they watched trash TV in mildly comfortable silence. But the tenseness between them right now was like a thick smog in the air, the type that stings your eyes and makes your throat close up. Nearly impossible to ignore.

Unless, of course, there was some sort of distraction, he mused. But that would never-

“Uncle?”

Macaque’s ears twitched at the familiar voice and he froze, looking up, raising a brow, before blurting out the first name that came to mind, “Red?”

They both started speaking at the same time, “What are you-”

They also stopped speaking at the same time as they blinked at each other before both chuckling. Red Son, someone Macaque was only semi-recently formerly acquainted with despite having known his parents for centuries, politely raised a hand to cover his mouth as he chuckled, both of them momentarily forgetting about the mildly confused witness standing awkwardly on the sidelines.

Considering Red Son was very young when Wukong trapped his father under that mountain, he had never really seen Wukong as anyone other than the man who tore the Demon Bull Family from its foundations and left it as shaky scaffolding that threatened to blow over in the wind, only kept up by Red Son’s and his mother’s combined efforts, something that seldom seemed enough as in the beginning they were just two grieving demons; a child, young and stripped of his power, forced to relearn the core of his magic; and a mother, hollow without her husband and forced to raise her son alone. It wasn’t long before Red Son did his best to remedy the lack of manpower though, the first bull clones hadn’t been perfect but they were a good proof of concept. Nevertheless, point is, Red Son (despite vaguely remembering a time when he had sat upon strong shoulders–not as broad as his father’s–with his hands pulling curiously at golden fur, the owner of which chuckled, unbothered by the child’s actions,) had long since stopped seing Wukong in any kind of fond light. Macaque on the other hand, despite being physically absent, was still often brought up by Iron Fan in conversation, her tone fond and wistful as she would lament about how often Macaque had to get the other brotherhood members out of trouble. Her stories notably lacking Wukong. As a result of these stories though, Red Son felt closer to Macaque when he was being raised than he had ever felt to Wukong, and after meeting Macaque in person, and being introduced formerly to him by MK, Red Son was all too eager to reinstate the title he had once used for Wukong. And Macaque definitely didn’t tear up when Red Son called him Uncle.

Of course, predictably, it wasn’t long before Wukong got antsy and interjected himself into the conversation Red Son and Macaque had started having.

“Red boy!” Wukong chimed, draping his arm over a now very disgruntled Red Son’s shoulders.

“Wukong…” Red greeted distastefully.

“You’re not gonna rat us out are you?” Wukong asked, almost sounding genuinely anxious.

“If you don’t stop touching me I might,” the young demon scowled, prompting Wukong to chuckle nervously and back off with his palms held out in a placating gesture, which Red Son only huffed smoke out of his nostrils at.

“Noted,” Wukong hums, placing his hands on his hips and tilting his head, “so, what are you doing in the celestial realm? I thought your family was taking a break from conquering the world. I don’t think MK would be too happy to have to start fighting you again.”

Red Son scoffs, his cheeks flushing slightly at that last part as he looked away, the reaction confusing Wukong.

“Like I would tell you anything,” the bull demon hissed.

Wukong is about to argue back but Macaque shoves a hand over his mouth and speaks up, not wanting Wukong to start something possibly explosive in the middle of the celestial realm, “What’cha doin’ here, Red?”

“Oh, that’s easy, I came to speak with Ne Zha.”

Macaque grins triumphantly, glancing towards Wukong and-

“DID YOU JUST LICK ME!?” He hissed, jerking his hand away from Wukong’s mouth and wiping the slobber off on Wukong’s sleeve.

“You’ll live,” Wukong huffed, wiping the spit off his chin as a cocky grin pulls at his lips, ever excited to cause Macaque discomfort, “I just don’t see why Red Boy can’t answer me but can answer you.”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe because you’re annoying,” Macaque grumbled, childishly sticking his tongue out at Wukong, pulling a dramatic, affronted gasp from Wukong.

“Well, I-” Wukong started, placing a hand on his chest as he pretended to be thoroughly scandalized by the display, only for his theatrics to be rudely interrupted.

“And an idiot,” the young bull demon added.

“Hey-” Wukong pouted, genuinely upset his bit was ruined.

“Oh, and-” Macaque chimed, only to be interrupted as Wukong punched him in the shouler, pulling a chuckle from him which was surely not the reaction Wukong was going for but he can’t find it in himself to be upset at the outcome.

It was honestly kind of funny. Sometimes they fought like children, and sometimes they fought like a married couple, Red Son mused with a slight smirk, but, unless he wanted to be hunted for sport, he could never say that thought out loud.

“So, what’s your business with Ne Zha, kid?” Macaque finally asked, tail swaying slightly from the lingering amusement of getting to mess with Wukong.

“Oh! I, uh… I came to ask for advice on what to get the noodle-” The demon’s eyes darted over to Wukong before narrowing as he slowly continued, carefully deciding his words, “my… partner as a, um, courting gift.”

Macaque nodded, unsurprised at this information, having been one of the first people Red came to when he first started attempting to court the monkey king’s successor. Based on the nervous look the demon had given Wukong, Macaque would bet that Wukong didn’t know yet. Which also wasn’t surprising, because Wukong was incredibly dense. Guess that’s what happens when your brain is made of stone.

Wukong snorted, clearly amused, “I wouldn’t go to Ne Zha for that kind of thing.”

“And why is that?”

Both Red Son and Wukong jolted slightly at the sound of the familiar voice, though more out of surprise than anything else. Macaque, having heard Ne Zha approaching but not caring enough to let Wukong know, merely allowed his gaze to lazily travel over to the lotus prince, giving a casual nod in greeting that was met with a slight shrug. Despite mostly hating each other, they had fun gossiping about Wukong together that one time and they both cared about MK so they resolved to, at the very least, not be hostile.

Macaque was only mildly surprised when, instead of backtracking as any sensible person would do, Wukong turned to Ne Zha with a brow raised as he huffed out an amused laugh and used Macaque’s shoulder as an armrest, much to Macaque’s dismay.

“Ey! Ne Zha! Old buddy! We were just talking about you!” Wukong chuckled to himself, clearly the only one who was entertained by this situation. With a hum, Wukong addressed Ne Zha’s question, “do you want the whole list or do you want me to just say some stuff off the top of my head?”

With a tired sigh that was usually reserved for exhausted parents, Ne Zha rubbed at his temples. Wukong, for whatever reason, took this as a sign to continue spouting his bullshit.

“First off, you’re like, what, twelve? Second, I doubt you know the first thing about romance, I mean, you’d probably be married to your job if you could be.”

Ne Zha’s eye twitched and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He’s barely even been in Wukong’s presence for fifteen minutes and he already wants to leave. But, alas, he did have a reason for appearing when he did.

However… it wouldn’t hurt to set the record straight first, “just because I am not interested in romantic affairs doesn’t mean I am unaware of the concept. Nor does it mean I would be unwilling to advise the Demon Dull prince and- are you even listening, Wukong?”

“Mmm,” Wukong hummed, picking at the dirt under his claws, “not at all, why?”

Sighing, Ne Zha took a moment to breathe, opening his mouth to scold Wukong but paused as he was struck with an idea and a rare mischievous grin pulled at his expression, the look setting everyone on edge as they wondered what he might be thinking.

“Oh, no reason…” He turned his back on Wukong, which was a risky move considering what he was about to say, “I just thought you might be interested in learning where Ao Lie is…”

Wukong immediately went stock still, his tail, which had previously been casually swaying, stiffened to the point of almost looking petrified. Macaque and Red Son watched as Wukong’s face fell, only for it to morph into something else moments later as his eyes went red and he bared his teeth. His fur bristled and neither Macaque nor Red Son could even think to stop him before he went to pounce.

Unsurprisingly, Ne Zha expected the reaction and leaped out of the way, watching as Wukong stumbled, struggling to reinstate his balance after his target moved, leaving him to skid slightly before crouching down again, no doubt getting prepared to try again.

“Tell me where he is,” Wukong spoke, the previous casualness and teasing aura that he had before completely gone, replaced by this desperate kind of aggression that brought back unwanted memories for Macaque and startled Red Son. Macaque didn’t miss the way Red Son stepped closer to him.

It made sense, Red Son had been a baby back when Wukong was on the journey, he’s never had to see this side of him before.

It had always been clear that Red Son disliked the monkey king, but the fear he had was only because of hearing stories and knowing vaguely what he was capable of. Now that he got to see Wukong’s impulsive rage first hand… he just considered himself glad he survived the punch in the ribs he got when Wukong was possessed.

“He was going to, you idiot,” Macaque finally huffed, making Wukong pause in his attack for a second.

Ne Zha nodded, still tense as though expecting Wukong to try and pounce at him again, “I have no reason to keep his whereabouts from you.”

“You’ve kept them from me this long,” Wukong growled, referring to the time Ao Lie had spent trapped in the scroll, and the group watched as guilt flashed over Ne Zha’s expression.

“I was not aware of what had happened to your companion,” he spoke honestly, and Wukong’s fur flattened slightly, the glamour on his eyes returning, “not until I had to release everyone trapped within the scroll. It was as much a surprise to me as it was for you.”

Wukong glared at the ground for a moment, clearly wanting to take out his anger on someone but wanting to see Ao Lie more. So, he sighed and looked back up at Ne Zha, “take me to him.”

No one spoke for the rest of that walk. Red Son had gone back to the mortal realm, accepting that this wasn’t the best time to look for advice and deciding to either come back another time or ask his mother, though that ran the risk of his father finding out and Red Son was just… really not ready to have that conversation.

That left Wukong and Macaque alone to follow their temporary guide, Ne Zha.

In the back of his mind, Wukong was surprised that Macaque had stuck with him this long. Maybe it was because he was distracted by other things but, no matter how much he thought about it he just couldn’t figure out why he was still there.

More upsettingly, Wukong couldn’t figure out why he was glad Macaque was there.

He wasn’t given much time to mull over his thoughts before the three of them came to a stop in a long hallway with countless doors on each wall. “Guest rooms,” Ne Zha had explained, gesturing to one of the doors. He didn’t need to say anything for Wukong to understand what was being implied, and suddenly Wukong’s heart jumped into his throat and he was feeling uncharacteristically nervous. What was he supposed to say? Did Ao Lie even want to see him?

Wukong wasn’t someone who was used to acknowledging his feelings at the best of times, but especially not in a scenario like this. Ne Zha had hung back, watching as Wukong approached the door, Macaque following close behind and Wukong briefly wondered if he could sense how much Wukong needed him here. As embarrassing of a thought as that was, Wukong had to admit he was glad someone was by his side, even if that person hated his guts. This feeling was only amplified as Wukong once again felt something brush against his tail. He looked back to see the tip of a black-furred appendage briefly hooking around his tail before pulling back, not willing to offer any more than that. Wukong looked at Macaque with wide eyes, only to find Macaque unsurprisingly averting his gaze and glaring at the door, most likely pointedly ignoring the warmth in his cheeks. Wukong gave a soft smile, recognizing the attempt at reassurance and if he had more time to think it over he would probably bring himself into a spiral over it but, that could wait, for now… Wukong took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock at the door, not letting the breath out even as there was a loud crash on the other side of the door as if someone had tripped and then panicked shuffling.

He still didn’t breathe when the door was flung open to reveal a slightly disheveled-looking being. One that was very, very familiar to him.

“Ne Zha! Did you find hi-” Their voice cut off as their eyes met Wukong’s and for a moment, everything was frozen. Or, Macaque would’ve thought that was the case if he hadn’t been able to hear Wukong’s heart picking up and the way his breath hitched after he finally let out the breath he was holding.

Macaque took the moment of stillness to examine Ao Lie’s appearance, though he didn’t necessarily need to, having recognized him from years ago when he had been tailing the group to find out how they were keeping Wukong tied down. He looked the same for the most part, though his hair was slightly tousled most likely from the fall he had taken when scrambling to the door.

The shadow monkey watched as Ao Lie’s lips parted to say something but he cut himself off when Wukong took a few shaky steps forward as if afraid any sudden movements would shatter this moment. Or, perhaps Wukong was afraid Ao Lie would try and kill him just like everyone else from his past has thus far.

Of course, Ao Lie didn’t attack Wukong and instead offered a kind, patient smile. The sight of which had a dopey grin growing on Wukong’s face before he pounced on Ao Lie and knocked both of them to the ground, knocking the breath out of the dragon. Wasting no more time Wukong almost instinctively nuzzled against Ao Lie’s cheek as he threaded his fingers through Ao Lie’s long hair, soothing a part of himself he hadn’t previously been aware needed soothing.

Standing back, Macaque watched the exchange with narrowed eyes, an ugly feeling rearing its head in his chest as he watched Wukong clumsily attempt to groom Ao Lie’s hair. Macaque didn’t even know if Wukong was aware he was doing it.

Recovering from the air being punched out of his lungs, laughter bubbled up in Ao Lie’s throat, and the melodic sound had Wukong’s tail swaying against the ground as he answers with a pleased chirp, not even noticing the tears that began to run down his cheeks.

They laugh together for a moment, just holding each other close and reassuring themselves that this moment was real before they calm down and spend a moment of silence just basking in the others presence before Ao Lie sighs, shattering the silence and prompting Wukong to raise his head from where he had buried it against Ao Lie’s shoulder. Ao Lie reached up to cup Wukong’s cheeks and Wukong almost instantly relaxed into the touch, purring contentedly as Ao Lie’s thumbs caress his cheeks, brushing away any stray tears as Ao Lie takes the moment to study Wukong’s face.

“You look different,” Ao Lie said softly, his voice almost a whisper as he ran his thumb over the edge of Wukong’s prominent eye bags. Wukong’s eyes flutter shut as he takes a moment to just bask in the touch before opening his eyes and meeting Ao Lie’s affectionate gaze.

A soft chuckle bubbles up from Wukong’s chest as he responds, “you don’t.”

“Heh… being trapped in time for…” Ao Lie grimaces, realizing he doesn’t actually know how long he had been trapped, “uh… however long, will do that to you.”

Wukong frowns at the reminder, placing his hand over Ao Lie’s and apologetically nuzzling into his palm.

“If I had known,” Wukong mumbles against Ao Lie’s skin, “I would’ve stopped at nothing to get you back.”

Smiling sadly, Ao Lie pressed their foreheads together, “I know.”

<<prev

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witchyspiritsims · 1 year

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Hellooooo, anyone out there remember me? It’s been almost a year since I’ve used this tumblr last - and over a year since I decided to start it.

As a bit of an explanation, I lost the Blackwood and AHC save files. Actually, I lost ALL my save files except some I’d backed up like three months prior or something. I’m not sure what happened but I put new CC into my game and when I started it up next just. Everything was wiped. I lost motivation after that and pretty much quit Sims 4. I switched to Sims 2 and really had a lot of fun!

Then my laptop broke. It stopped charging unless the charger was in a very specific position. We thought it was the charger itself so we bought a new one. Turns out it was the charging port. Online it said it had most likely come away from the motherboard. It’s been months since and I’ve been without a computer of my own.

That said, I’ve been using my husband’s desktop and it’s been a whole new experience for me. I’ve only ever had laptops. When he let me put sims on his computer it was like a totally different game. The graphics looked better, it ran so smoothly, and I could finally use reshade!!! I was so excited and it’s really given me my spark back for sims. So much so that I started an actual legacy challenge - The Sims in Bloom challenge. I had started the AHC before, but I never got very far into it since I lost my saves soon after. The Sims in Bloom legacy helped me really see the appeal of legacy challenges and I got pretty far in it before I found the Whimsy Challenge. Then my attentions shifted to that because I fell so deeply in love with it that it was all I could think about sometimes lmao.

But now I’ve found a new challenge and can feel myself wanting to get my grubby little hands on it. I read through the Crybaby Whims legacy last night and just. Wanted to start it so bad. But I know it’ll be like my other ones - I’ll play it till I find something better and then abandon it. I don’t want that to happen to my Whimsy legacy and I most definitely dont want it to happen to this one if I start it. So I’ve been thinking of bringing this simblr back to life. Maybe having the Crybaby Whims save as my simblr save, and the Whimsy save as my personal? Since I’m already almost finished with generation 1?

I also have to think about how I’ll be able to manage it. My depression has made my energy cap at like 5%. I’ve lost irl friendships bc I just can’t manage surviving and communicating at the same time anymore. Would adding an active simblr to my plate again be a good idea? I’m not sure, but I know I want to try it. I have this whole idea of making a cast list for the Crybaby legacy and how the drama of the first gen will start and I’m excited to FINALLY play with a teen because I haven’t played a teen at ALL since HSY came out. So I think what I’m going to do is…. Just post when I feel like! I was never a big simblr to begin with so it isn’t like I have dozens of people anxiously awaiting my posts. Especially since I’ve taken such a large break. I think I’ll kind of have to build back up again. Either way I’m not going to put so much pressure on myself to post here, and I think I’ll only use my twitter to announce posts and maybe chat with people here or there. Definitely don’t plan on getting into debates with people about the state of the sims or ea.

That’s just what I’m thinking about, anyway! Im getting a desktop of my own soon, so I might not start anything until then. Then again I’ll have to transfer stuff anyway. What’s the harm of another save file??

#thinking #thoughts with witchy #I will also have to remove the Blackwood and AHC and family tree pages #lol it’ll be funny if I post this and then this blog sits here unused for another year

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howtodisassembleyourdeviant · 1 year

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Didn't have the best night. Got moved to stocking early in the night because they were shorthanded and was reminded why I hate it. I also realize that, by paying rent, I don't have anything left for food. I have some groceries, but not enough to last two weeks. I'm hoping to be able to figure it all out so I don't have to ask my mother for money. I finally paid her off last month.

I also had finally reordered my pen nibs and a new charger for my laptop (my last one broke which has really effected my writing) last week, but it seems to be lost in MN, so I had to process a refund. Just overall not a good night.

I'm going to make myself something to eat and chill for a while before going to bed. Expect to wait a little longer for long replies. Sorry.

#( ooc )

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fagcrisis · 8 months

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hiiii i am talking to youuuu. uhm.. hmmm.... so im finally replacing my broken electronics (like chargers and such. the cheap stuff. my phone is also shit but i cant replace that lol) and im really happy my barely working laptop charger was stressing me out so much. also i got new phone chargers bc all my micro usb cables broke except for one really short and shitty one, and i got this pair of 2m long ones and they are MAGIC they are DOUBLE SIDED micro usb so like you can plug them in either direction which is crazy ive never seen that before. i know usb c is double sided but these are NOT usb c they are micro usb. so its fucking bonkers my mind has ben boggled. otherwise i made shakshouka today bc they made it in a webcomic i like (countdown to countdown. its good, read it) and i just got a new recipe book a few days ago and it had a shakshouka recipe and i took it as a sign. it was really fucking good. what else. i was supposed to do an archive shift today but i got ill so thats really sad. i do feel better now though so itll be fine by the time you come. speaking of which what do you want to do on wednesday... you arrive pretty early so we could do smth. would you like to dye my hair its pretty faded... or we could also look through the local charity shops to see if theres any good board games. these two activities are not mutually exclusive

SO GLAD U GOT NEW CHARGERS also i looked up shakshouka and it looks so fucking good its a shame i cant eat tomatoes for like a year now still... we Could dye ur hair. we do also need to go to the shops to get gluten free ingredients for me ole self bc we will not have much money so well probably like. need to only spend money on transport and like lidl

#rumini a zúzmaragyarmaton

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notfknapplicable · 8 months

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6636

I ordered a new laptop today! I'm very excited about it because my old one is literally falling apart - the charger plug is so loose that I sometimes have to reach into the machine itself with needle-nose pliers and pull the socket back out so I can actually plug it up. And also the hinges on each side of the screen are fully broken. One had been broken for a while but I could manage, but on Monday the other one finally came loose. This has caused the wiring to the screen to short out and the image flickers so bad that I can't use it. I ordered an external hard drive so I can dump all my stuff onto it (I'll probably use my playstation's hdmi cable and my tv for this task) and then I'll put it all on my new laptop once it arrives. I got one from HP, 17 inch screen, good processor, solid state hard drive, etc etc. I hope this one will last a decade like my last one did.

This may very well mean a return to fic writing for me. Not having a properly functioning machine will really put the stink on any creative efforts, and my laptop's been wraggly like this for over a year. The new one (and I mean brand new - I almost got a refurbished one but one of my student workers recommended against it) will be here around August 30, and I just can't wait.

I also went running on Tuesday morning. 2 miles at 6am. Feeling chuffed as hell!

#tales from scumbag city

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dizzymuses · 1 year

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❆・:*｡( nam joohyuk. twentysix. cis man. ) | look who entered the cabin! it’s HAJOON NA. HE is known for being the HIMBO of the group & that’s because they can be AFFABLE but also NAIVE. we bet they’re excited to be coming back to the cabin. they believe GUY.EXE by SUPERFRUIT is the best way to describe them. wonder what trouble they’ll be getting into this season.

hi hi, okay finally getting around to writing this intro. sadly, still not on my laptop bc god forbid anything ever gets delivered as planned lol. so pls forgive me if this turns out somewhat sub-par, i’m typing it on my equally sub-par ipad keyboard rip. fingers crossed i might get my charger on monday. but let’s get to business - this is hajoon, who also happens to be a brand new muse for me. he’s equal parts precious baby and big headed idiot. v sociable, trusting and endearing but also probably up to some dumb shit at any given time. let’s get into it (yuh) SKJDFHK

basics.

name: hajoon na.

nicknames: joon, joonie.

gender: cis man.

pronouns: he/him.

age: 26.

date of birth: march 19th, 1996 (making him a pisces).

place of birth: harbor springs, michigan.

nationality: american

ethnicity: korean.

occupation: dog trainer, tiktok creator.

orientation: bisexual, biromantic.

biography.

hajoon na was born as the first child to hyunjin na and angelica kwon, respectively an accountant and a nurse. both of them were overjoyed to welcome their son and start their little family, which had until then only consisted of the two of them and their dog valentine. however, they shouldn’t remain such a small family for very long as hajoons little sister was born only two years after him, making his run as an only child ever so short-lived. hajoon didn’t resent his sister though, instead fully embracing this new role as her older brother. it was fun to have somebody he could take care of and who would blindly follow his lead for quite a few years.

while there family was never rich, they didn’t have to worry for much, especially since their parents placed both of their well-being before most other concerns. their education was another one of the things they really cared for and so the whole family even travelled through europe twice when hajoon was in his teens. all in all, he wasn’t ever a disappointment to his parents, eager to please them. however, he also wasn’t quite the high-achiever they might have wished for. always getting good but honestly no exceptional grades, even though he was already studying much more than he personally would have liked. his sister, harin, proved herself to be much more the academic his parents were hoping for.

honestly, it wasn’t always easy for joon to have a younger sister who quite possibly was much smarter than him but in the end he was glad for her and his parents. they got what they wanted after all, with a daughter who soaked up all the knowledge she could get her hands on, especially everything space related. on the other hand, hajoon coasted through college, not quite smart enough to be of notice but certainly well liked by his peers. he was always one of the popular kids, despite never really trying. while others might have stepped on people to get them up the ranks, he had never done anything of particular note aside from having a massive glow-up in his teens and genuinely being nice to pretty much everyone.

maybe it’s the fact that he’d always been so effortlessly popular or the way his parents were basically as supportive as could be but it means that hajoon grew up to often blindly trust others and be pretty self-assured. sure, he knows now that he certainly isn’t extraordinarily smart but extraordinarily handsome was also worth something, right? after school he didn’t quite know what to do with life and so he took an infamous gap-year, mostly spent volunteering at the local animal shelter. it was there that he realised he wanted to work with animals long-term and so he began working towards becoming a certified dog trainer.

by now he works as a dog trainer, having opened his own training center with a friend of his. through a tiktok he once made with his own dog, friday, which was mostly meant to be educational, he had already gotten a small following on the site. ever since the group’s tiktok blew up in 2019 and the show was aired afterwards, however, that following had become quite sizeable and he has continued posting. i would personally describe his content as a wild mixture of educational dog training tips, tiktok’s everyone but himself would describe as thirst traps and dad jokes. harin always tells him he should stick exclusively with dog content because the rest of it is supposedly cringe af. but the internet at large doesn’t quite seem to agree with that assessment.

ok, that is all i have for u rn bc this is getting on my last nerve.i’d love to brainstorm some plot ideas w u and get things going for my boi. tysm for reading through this and maybe i’ll add to it once i have a proper keyboard again kfdjhkdfd.

#i will def work on this again later but it shall be enough for the current… situation dfgfkjdgh #also it he can’t have his dog w him sadly but he does have one and her name is friday

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ne0nlightzz · 9 months

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Don't Forget The Sun | Creepypasta X FTM!Reader

Side note/ A/N: this is my story that i have put here for those who don't want to go to Wattpad in this unfortunate time of ao3 being down [mostly a joke] also how does one format a full story part on tumblr? i need some guidance here

part:info/cw

PART: ONE

Welp, there I sat, staring off at the back of the passenger seat Infront of me that my older sister sat in while our mother drove home from a shitty appointment with a new doctor.

You know I never thought I'd be sitting miserably in the backseat of my mother's car on the way to what feels like my doom, but here i am!!

And it's all because my sister snitched on me, not even in a mean and bad intentions way but in a way that was from concern and fairly good intentions, but as per usual that had just backfired.

She meant good but now I'm stuck on our mother's bad side and with one shitty summer break...fun, am I right?

When we pulled into the driveway of our home, our mother turned the cars' engine off and removed the keys before grabbing her purse and exiting the car, leaving me and my sister there

"Y/n.." my sister said softy and I looked up at her, raising an eyebrow as a signal for her to continue

"You know I didn't mean for this to happen...and I know moms overreacting but just put up with it okay?" She said still in a soft tone, I nodded and exited the car, then made my way inside and up to our mother who was standing at the kitchen counter.

"Ma-" I started to talk but was cut off by her

"Sush Y/n, I don't want to hear your apologies nor excuses anymore, you're going to stay with your father and the decision is final, I'm tired of dealing with you and your shit." She said bitterly as she lit her cigarette, I didn't even try to talk as I knew she wasn't done talking.

"Just go pack what you need because you have to leave soon" She finished and waved me off, I sighed and walked away not having the energy to try to bargain or bicker with her knowing it would only ruin things more.

I was laying on my bed with my cat while scrolling through Tumbler and surrounded by shit that needed to go into my luggage, I only got as far as getting most my stuff ready to be packed, just not actually packed because my attention span just isn't real sometimes.

"Hey, Ya almost ready to get goi-" my sister trailed off as she walked into my room and saw the mess. She sighed and rubbed the corner of one of her eyebrows before speaking again

"You need help packing?" She asked in a haft caring haft sarcastic tone; I nodded as I got up from my bed

"Alright, well let's get this done before mom flips and loses her shit" she said, shooting me a small smile and I gave a small one back before sitting on my floor while she sat on the edge of my bed and helped me start packing my clothes, necessities, some books and some other things.

After my bags where finally packed and my sister had gone to handle her own things before we had to leave, I sighed and sat on my bed next to my cat again, I pet her has she flopped in my lap lap, making me smile a bit at her adorable action and give her a small kiss on her head and a boop to the nose.

"Common Y/n, it's time to go!" My sister shouted from what I assume to be the kitchen.

I sighed, giving my cat a few more kisses on her head then stood up and grabbed my backpack, I shoved my laptop, chargers, F/c/a [fav color and animal] stuffie and medicine case into it, also making sure my wallet, notebook, journal and pens where in there, I put my phone in the side pocket and flung the bag over my shoulder. I grabbed my luggage, Camra (and its bag) and brought them to where my mother was waiting at the front door, I gave her a small smile and opened the door so I could go outside to put my stuff in the car.

After putting my stuff up, I went back inside and said goodbye to our mother, my cat and the dogs, making sure to sneak my cat a goodbye treat.

"Are you ready to go now?" My sister asked as she went to walk out the door

"Y-yeah I'm rea- actually wait a s-second!" I nearly shouted, realizing what i had forgotten before i ran to my room, grabbing my hoodie, throwing it on and then grabbing my skateboard.

as I went to run out my room i stopped in the doorway, looking back at my now nearly empty bedroom and frowning a bit

"Goodbye my dear shadow demons, I won't really miss you!" I dramatically whispered as a joke before sprinting down the hallway, out the front door and to my sisters old chevy truck that she was waiting for me in after she had finally gotten to start.

I threw my Skateboard in the bed of the truck with my other stuff besides my backpack then slipped into the car seat.

"Now are you ready?" my sister teased, and I rolled my eyes playfully as I held up my middle finger.

The car ride was mostly just us listening to our old mix CD she had made for me when I was younger and every now and then some small talk, I slowly let myself lose my sense of reality and let my thoughts consume me for the rest of the drive.

I was snapped out of my thoughts of the all too familiar feeling of this truck driving into the rocky driveway of my dad's house, with that an unknown anxiety made itself known.

I guess my sister noticed my now anxious state.

"You know you don't have to do this, well you kinda do but you know you can always come stay with me and Connor if you're not comfortable here, I know returning back to your childhood home is hard" she said softly as she leaned on the steering wheel and looked at me with pity in her eyes.

I smiled a bit and shook my head.

"No, I'll b-be fine b-b-but I might h-h-have to t-take you up o-o-on your offer" I replied but my stutter making an appearance, I mentally cursed the stuttering and forced myself out of my sister's truck.

Glancing over I saw my father standing on the front porch, I sighed and grabbed my duffle and skateboard from the bed of the truck while my sister helped me out and grabbed my suitcase before walking me up to the front porch and my father.

He looked at me and gave a small haft fake smile.

"you've grown since I last saw you" he said trying to start a small conversation and I just shrugged and looked at him blankly, my sister apologized for me and handed him my suitcase before turning to me and giving her usual small soft smile.

"I'll give you two time to say goodbye, it was nice seeing you Scarlett be careful on the drive back and thank you for getting d/n here safely" my father told my sister before he took my suitcase and walked inside.

Right as he shut the door Scarlett pulled me into a hug "I'm gonna miss you, sunny" she said quietly, using the nickname she has pretty much always called me

"I-i'll miss you too s-s-scarlet" I mumbled and hugged her back, we stayed like that for a few more seconds before she moved away and put her hands on my shoulders.

"You sure you're gonna be okay?" She questioned, I nodded and hummed to say yes

"Okay.. you kno-"

"Yes-s I know to c-c-call you if anything h-h-happens or if I n-need you" I cut her off and smirked, she let out a quiet chuckle.

"Alright, welp I better hit the road, it's getting dark and over here is more of a wooded area and I don't want to run into a deer." She said, we both chuckled at the deer part, she's terrified of deer's and it's hilarious. She took her hands off my shoulders and kissed the top of my head before walking back to her truck. Just as she was about to get into the vehicle she stopped and looked at me.

"Hey, Sunny.. You behave, okay? Try to stay out of trouble" she shouted, I rolled my eyes and gave her a thumbs up, she waved and got into the truck before pulling out of the driveway and disappearing in the distance as I waved goodbye the entire time. Sighing I grabbed my duffle again and walked inside, closing the front door behind me

"Oh, hey d/n, I put your suitcase in your room so you can go ahead and get unpacked, and Brooklyn should be home with Stella soon!" My father shouted from the living room.

"Okay, Thanks Melvin" I mumbled and slowly made my way to what used to be my old room.

Walking down the hallway I haven't walked down in years brought back memories, any of the remaining pictures on the hallway walls also did so, though there where only 2 or 3 of the original pictures from my childhood in the main part of the hallway as most as the old ones had been replaced with pictures of Melvin, his new wife and new daughter, he had basically just completely removed us from his memory, didn't he?

Once I got to my old bedroom door, I reluctantly put my hand on the doorknob, taking a deep breath I turned the knob and flung the door open, I stepped into the doorway and glanced around the dimly lit room.

It's pretty much just how I left it and that's shocking.

I know Scarlett came and packed up some of the old junk s few years ago so it's not the exact same but it's pretty damn close. I walked into the room further and tossed my duffle next to my bed and my backpack on the bed before walking around the room. As I ran my fingers along the old hard wood desk, I glanced at the corkboard that hung above it and was still filled with messy crayon drawings and papers with messy, childish handwriting in crayon. Looking at those pictures made me feel weird, almost panicky, some of them...okay most of them are unsettling.

'Just unsettling pictures that a child with too big of an imagination drew, its nothing else' I told myself in my head and looked down at the desk to avoid the pictures. The messy crayon drawings of the monster-human like creatures would make anyone uneasy, they aren't exactly normal, they are sort of weird and freaky.

I shake my head as memory of it all started to pop up, I sighed at the memories before flopping on my bed.

"W-we're really back here, a-aren't we?" I asked to a person who wasn't even physically in the room as I put my arm over my eyes.

- About an hour after I got here I was finally unpacked, I had put all my clothes in the dresser, I had hung up some posters and other decor but what was still up from when I was a kid kinda fit in so it stayed, I had set up my lava lamp on my dresser, all my books had been placed on the sturdy hard wood bookshelf and I had taken down most the old unsettling pictures and had put them in one of the desk drawers. moving those felt wrong, just removing the small blob flower shaped tack that held them up felt wrong, it felt like I was disturbing something that should just be left alone for good, as it would probably be better that way.

I could tell the slight comfort being mixed with the unsettling-ness of being back in this house was only the calm before the storm.

'Maybe a walk would do me some good' I thought to myself as I grabbed my ear buds, phone and skateboard and then made my way to the front door as I put my earbuds in and hit play on Spotify.

"I'm going for a walk!" I shouted before quickly running out the door and down the rock driveway, almost falling as I ran through the rocks because it's been years since I even saw a driveway like this. When me, Scar and Ma moved we went into more of a city rather than a small town, a village if you want it call it that. We had also left when I was so young but also just old enough to remember small details of this place as I got older, it was weird going from such a small town to a bigger city but as a little kid I thought it was great because I had assumed it was some vacation and that we would go back home after a bit but when we never moved back, I ended up finding the city boring after living there for a bit and quickly learned to hate it, but Scarlett always said this small town was suffocating and she was happy to be out of it, I guess everyone prefers different places.

I had gotten lost in my thoughts and ended up skateboarding along the side of the road for a while and had ended up fairly far from the house, the only reason i noticed this and came to a stop was because there was this feeling that i was being watched and that something just wasn't right, but it very well could just me my imagination and paranoia as both hate me and like to make me think I'm going insane.

With those feelings alone, I turned around and started to skate back to the house, I don't trust this area like I used to, I don't trust something bad not to happen again.

After I had gotten back to the house, I wandered around the front yard area for a bit and wished I had my camera on me when I found a caterpillar just chillin out on a leaf and being all cute

"D/n! Come on in! Its dinner time and getting dark out!"

Oh, screw you Melvin, I was having a moment with my caterpillar friend and I'm not freaking five anymore!

After watching the caterpillar for another minute, I finally just picked it up then rushed inside.

I hope being here won't be too bad.

Pov switch

"So, that little scrawny kid who was just talking to a leaf, is the one slender is so interested in? The kid seems like a waste of our time"

"Jeff, would you shut up; we don't question the operator's orders, you'd think out of all the people who would know that it'd be you by now that by now!"

"Whatever E.J" Jeff said as he rolled his eyes.

As the two bickered the main proxies just stood there, Toby stood awkwardly, and Hoodie had to stop Masky from losing his shit on the two.

[11/11/2022]

Edited: [2/16/2023]

Posted to Tumblr on: 7/11/2023

#trans writers #idk man #wtf am i even doing #creepypasta #writer stuff #creepypasta fanfic #qoutev #wattpad #creepy pasta x malereader #creepypasta x ftm reader #creepypasta x male!reader #creepypasta fanfiction #creepypasta x trans reader #creepypasta fandom

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