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eldritchamy · 3 years

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I watched “Happiest Season” and no it fucking wasn’t.

Here’s a review so you don’t have to suffer like I did: if I wasn’t watching it as the host of a movie night, I would not have made it past 20-30 minutes in.

It was very uncomfortable to watch. I feel like I just spent two hours on a plane with a crying baby. Except the baby was a homophobic rich white Republican that I was forced to campaign for. All of the people I watched it with, including myself, found it stressful, anxiety inducing, and deeply unpleasant. The first thing I did when it was over was warn my best friend not to watch it.

90% of the movie is rich white straight people drama forcing lesbians into the closet. It’s not fun. It’s not happy. It wasn’t enjoyable. At all. Watching this was an uncompromisingly depressing and miserable experience.

It was marketed as a romantic comedy and it was neither of those things. I feel repressed for having seen it.

Every relationship in this movie is toxic and hard to watch, with the sole exception of two other characters who aren’t part of the family both having much better chemistry with Kristen Stewart’s character than her girlfriend.

Aubrey Plaza playing Gay Aubrey Plaza one of two redeeming things in the movie and she’s in it for about ten minutes, and even one of her scenes was hard for me to sit through (the awkward and dubiously written drag bar scene) The other 90 minutes are agonizingly drawn out and unbearable.

If you are determined to support this movie because god knows we need more (and MUCH better) representation and we live in a hellscape where money is the only way to ask for such things, press play on it and then take out your headphones and go read a book instead until it’s over.

For your own sake please do not watch this.

I genuinely can’t tell who it’s even FOR. If anything about this movie resonates with you, I am SORRY to hear that, because you are probably the lesbian daughter of a very rich white man running for office as a Republican, and watching any of the rich housewife reality shows probably gives you PTSD because those are the kind of people you grew up with.

And even IF that is the case, spare yourself the trauma of watching your own life and watch something else instead. This movie will only hurt you.

Nothing about the experience of seeing this was worth it.

Plot spoilers ahead.

The plot is as follows:

Abby (Kristen Stewart) loves her girlfriend Harper (Mackenzie Davis). But she does not love Christmas. After a night out together, Harper asks her to join her when she visits her family for the holidays. Abby says yes, and gets her gay male friend John (that guy from Schitt’s Creek) to cover pet sitting for her. While running a few errands with him, she goes to pick up an engagement ring which looks completely unattainable for a woman who makes a living as a pet sitter.

When they are almost to Harper’s family’s home, she awkwardly brings up that she lied about coming out to them earlier in the year. They still don’t know she’s gay and they have to make sure the family is perfect and scandal free because her dad is running for mayor or something and one of his donors? campaign manager? is going to be there. So they have to pretend Abby is her straight roommmate. They fight about it before Abby very reluctantly agrees. This is a pattern that repeats until Abby can’t take any more.

The family is like upper-class-Republican terrible. They are AWFUL people. The parents treat their children like trophies in a display case, and the children all feel forced into brutal competition with each other to see who the parents will actually be proud of. One of Harper’s sisters (Jane) is actually an okay person who does nothing wrong, but she’s an aspiring writer who has spent 10 years not finishing her book and she’s played like she belongs in a different movie, and it feels like she’s meant to be seen as the useless layabout sibling, in a cruelly funny way.

The other sister is a nightmare of a woman (Sloane? I think?) played by a completely unrecognizable Allison Brie. She’s a lawful evil cutthroat monster who is straight up VICIOUS to the other two, and is especially terrible to Harper, because neither of them even see Jane as competition. Her own family is the thing she uses to try to be worthy of her parents’ pride and affection.

The dad is focused entirely on his campaign and is more or less indifferent to all of them unless they aren’t “presentable” and “scandal free” enough to keep his potential donor/campaign manager satisfied, in which case he “expects better of them” until they behave. The children are like 30.

The mom is maybe the worst of all of them. She’s invasive, ignorant in that forceful way where she doesn’t give a shit about anything except her own bubble of reality that she thinks she’s living in and blows past any contradiction to it like it’s not even there, nitpicky about what everyone’s doing, is willfully out of touch with everything she’s told (Abby’s parents died when she was 19, and she spends the movie acting like she thinks Abby grew up in an orphanage made of dirt and never had a Christmas before). And she will not leave the two of them alone. She insists it’s ridiculous for two grown women to share a bedroom and gives Abby a room without a lock in a basement that’s bigger than my whole house, while Harper’s room is upstairs. Everyone is constantly barging into Abby’s room with less than two seconds of notice, which leads to the kind of tension and awkwardness you’d expect. The first morning, Abby wakes up to Sloane’s children staring at her.

Abby is clearly MISERABLE. And so are you, because you’re watching this movie. Abby and Harper are constantly pushed apart by the family, and Harper pushes Abby away while pretending to be perfect and straight for her family.

Her family invited Harper’s ex boyfriend, who thinks they should rekindle things. Super fun thing that I always love to see in my lesbian media.

While out at dinner, Abby and Harper have another mini fight in the bathroom. Harper promises she had no idea Connor(?) was going to be there and that there won’t be any more surprises. They walk out of the bathroom, right into Harper’s OTHER ex, her first girlfriend Riley (Aubrey Plaza, who literally just plays herself and is the only good thing about the movie).

This is the first 20 minutes.

There’s a party that leaves Abby feeling isolated and pushed away. She goes outside to make a phone call. She makes regular texts and phone calls to John for support and advice throughout the movie. He’s terrible at taking care of fish, but he’s genuinely a good friend to her and it’s clear he cares about her a lot. It’s probably unfair not to say his friendship is the second redeeming thing in the movie. After Abby gets off the phone with him the first time, Riley comes out from around the corner and tries to be nice, saying she could relate to what she’s going through. Abby kind of closes off from her and she takes the hint without any fuss and leaves her alone.

The movie slogs on with compounding stress and anxiety and a moment when Abby is LITERALLY forced to hide in a closet and pretend she was sleepwalking on her way to Harper’s bedroom at night. It MIGHT have been an attempt at a joke? I’m genuinely not sure because I did not come close to laughing once in the entire 100 minutes of this nightmare. Harper instead sneaks into Abby’s room while she’s awkwardly trying to get away from Harper’s mom. That’s where the gifs of the sneak-snuggle from behind the door come from. Enjoy the gifs because everything that wasn’t giffed is not worth seeing. Harper spends the night there.

Bright and early, Harper’s mom comes knocking on the door, trying to open it and barge in again but Abby blocked the door with something heavy claiming it was to “keep her from sleepwalking again” (her excuse for being in the closet) while Harper frantically gets almost-dressed and hides behind the door as BOTH parents come to bother them, and the evil sister’s children see her partially dressed through the crack in the door.

Later that day Abby has to go shopping for a present for the “White Elephant” Harper didn’t warn her about. She bumps into Sloane at the mall, who dumps her kids off on her before quickly leaving. The kids very intentionally frame Abby for shoplifting by putting a necklace in her bag, and there’s a really awkward and uncomfortable scene with her being interrogated by overly forceful mall cops who are yelling at her. When she finally gets back to the house, Harper’s entire family now thinks she’s a criminal.

Abby spends the night alone during another (campaign?) party that Harper told her she’d probably be happier getting left out of, and she bumps into Riley on the street and gets to talking with her, still more frustrated by Harper and her family. She says she needs some alcohol, Riley takes her to a drag bar which gave me really bad vibes and bonds with her there, telling her a bit about her relationship with Harper. They dated secretly (obviously) in their first year of high school (which implies she knew she was gay before she dated Connor, and used him as a cover). They would sneak each other romantic notes. When someone found one in Harper’s locker, she threw Riley under the bus completely, outed her, and said she was obsessed with her so she could go on pretending to be straight. They bond a bit and seem like they could be friends, at a minimum. They have a few more scenes together over the next hour (yeah there’s still that much movie left, and if you’re wondering how it could be that bad, you’re welcome for the warning, because I was wondering that too) and they have better chemistry than Abby and Harper by miles.

Eventually Abby becomes so miserable she checks the movie-specific version of Uber to try to go home by herself, but it’s running at holiday rates so it would cost over $1000 for her to leave. She’s still tempted to do it, and calls John again for advice and says she feels awful, completely alone, and with no way out of this horrible situation. He gives her some more friendly support.

Abby still needs a White Elephant gift, but has no way to go by herself because Harper drove them there. So she calls Riley to go with her. They spend a day hanging out together while Harper is doing some other thing with her dad’s campaign, and Abby makes text excuses to Harper, who then immediately sees Riley and Abby walking by on the street together. Before she gets a chance to run out and say something, she gets interrupted by something I thankfully don’t remember (I long for the moment this is true of the rest of it).

Riley and Abby bond some more but nothing romantic happens. The plot only wants them to be good friends, even though their chemistry is really good.

At the end of the day Abby comes in and Harper immediately almost starts a fight with her but they get interrupted again somehow.

I have willed most of the next 20 minutes out of my mind, apparently.

There’s yet another party at this gigantic house because I hate the rich, Abby and Riley talk more. This is the one with the really gay outfit. Abby admits to Riley that she was planning on proposing to Harper, but at this point it’s like she’s a completely different person and she can’t tell who the real Harper is. Riley says it’s probably both of them.

SURPRISE JOHN IS HERE. He comes in the front door and calls for Abby. After Abby’s last phone call he arranged for his therapist to do the pet sitting and he drove all the way here just so he could take her home. Seriously, John has incredible Good Friend Energy. Yet more awkwardness ensues, while John mixes some awkward flirting with Connor into his poor attempt to come off as straight. Abby then walks right up to Harper, says “we’re done” and goes to grab some things to leave. Harper follows her into the room and tries to get her to stay, Abby says she can’t take the hiding and the general misery, the whole experience has been terrible and she’s not sure if Harper is the person she thought she was. Harper argues for her to stay and says she’s caught between being afraid of losing her family if she comes out and knowing she’ll lose Abby if she doesn’t. She promises to come out to them as soon as the holidays are over because Abby is more important to her. They kiss briefly and realize Sloane is in the doorway.

Sloane tries to run to tell the rest of the family because burning Harper’s reputation forever means she’ll be the one their parents love most. They fight in the many hallways of this stupidly enormous rich people house (this is when “Stay out of it, Sappho” happens) and on the way to ruin her sister’s life Sloane finds her husband making out with another ....campaign person? in the pantry and or closet which is big enough to fit two people inside. Now Harper has something to use against Sloane. This family is fucking horrible. Sloane gets to where everyone else is first, and outs Harper.

Harper tries to swear she’s not gay, and sees Abby watching her. She silently turns and walks out the door with John. Harper then grabs a giant painting that Jane spent 100 hours on for the white elephant and smashes it over Sloane’s head and yells at her before falling apart.

Abby and John have another heartfelt conversation where John asks how she came out to her parents, and she said they loved and supported her. Then he said his dad kicked him out on the street and didn’t talk to him for thirteen years. He says everyone’s story is different, and Harper was still going through hers, and it was a hard one. I THINK he acknowledges that if Abby doesn’t feel like she belongs in that story, she shouldn’t force herself to? But that might have been wishful hindsight. Abby comes back into the house to grab her things and leave, Harper comes out to her family right in front of her, Abby says it was too late and leaves anyway. Harper is crushed and the rest of the family starts to see how fucked up they all are.

And then in the span of 7 fucking minutes the parents realize they were shitty to Sloane and Harper and the only reason Jane turned out okay is because they gave up on her, they give a minimal apology to their children, who also realize they were shitty to each other, and then it’s the next day and Abby is there with them, Harper has the ring on her finger, and everyone is magically happy now because the dad turned down his campaign advisor who said she could still work with him if he kept Harper’s “problem” a secret.

Jane’s book becomes a best seller and she’s friends with John now, because he was the only person who seemed genuinely interested in her passion. He sits next to her at her book signing. The end.

No, I’m not kidding.

As soon as it was over, I thought, wow that felt like a rushed happy ending that got slapped onto the end with nothing building up to or deserving it.

After further consideration, that gives it too much credit.

Because honestly? after the first hour and thirty five minutes of this hell, Abby and Harper being together at the end is not even something I would consider a happy ending. I wasn’t satisfied at all. It DEFINITELY felt like Abby ending up with Riley would have been a better movie.

If I had been told beforehand that a lesbian romcom starring Kristen Stewart and Mackenzie Davis, and featuring Aubrey Plaza as Gay Aubrey Plaza would have been an absolutely miserable experience that was hard to sit through and nothing but unpleasant to watch, I would probably have been shocked and disappointed.

But at least I would have not seen this movie. That is my gift to you. Please do NOT watch this.

It was marketed as a romantic comedy and it lived up to neither of those claims. Absolutely terrible movie. The happiest season of all is one where you don’t watch this stressful, uncomfortable disaster.

#eldritchreviews

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

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Title: Green Gold

Summary:

"The one Levi had picked out was of a minimalist design. The color in particular though was what stood out. At first glance, it looked like a typical gold or yellow. As Levi took a closer look from different angles under a light source, he couldn’t help but notice the way it glowed a bright green and was quick to fall back to a simple yellow. It did it too consistently though that Levi was sure it was not just a trick of the light."

Levi scrambles for a last minute Christmas present and Hange copes with being eight months pregnant.

Same verse as Rough Day, Sugar Rush and Household Planning.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: I know it isn't Christmas yet but I decided to drop some Levihan Christmas Fluff a little early. I wish you all a happy holiday!

When a new jewelry shop opened in a space adjacent to his favorite tea shop in Paradis, Levi was quick to notice it.

It never did catch his interest though. The hard life he had lived for roughly 40 years had him completely nonchalant at most significant developments. The opening of some ordinary jewelry shop was not at all a significant development that called any attention from the battle hardened soldier, even if it did attract a crowd for the first two months.

That was until Mr. Spasky the tea shop owner brought it up over a round of tea tasting. Levi had seen him exchange a few words with the jewelry shop owner before he would welcome Levi into his shop. He had guessed that they had become fast friends through the excitement of their tones and the detail they looked too comfortable giving each other. The friendship between those two was something he had brushed away too easily though. Levi was too preoccupied by a cranky pregnant Hange and his own household projects to consider much of anything else.

One day, Mr. Spasky brought up one unfamiliar question which got Levi particularly confused.

“So what kind of engagement ring did you buy your woman?"

"Engagement ring? Woman?" Levi frowned in confusion. “I have a woman?”

“It’s the season of giving so maybe it would be a good time…” The shopkeeper winked.

Levi’s thoughts were elsewhere. Partner. That was the word. By the expression and the tone on Mr. Spasky’s face, Levi could at least tell, they had the traditional woman in mind. Of course they would, they’ve never met Hange.

Hange was definitely pregnant and had been glaringly pregnant for the past few months already. Was she being the traditional woman about it? Definitely not.

Levi only had to be reminded of why he even felt the need to correct Mr. Spasky when he got home from his quick trip to the tea shop that day to find Hange as usual, coping with her six month leave in a very unconventional manner.

It had been two months since he had emailed that letter to the queen and requested for a leave for Hange. And with how Hange looked, hunched up on a microscope with a broken rock next to the table, Levi could tell that she was still far from the acceptance stage.

In fact, she had been constantly scrambling for something to do since she had been put in a leave of absence in the first place. She was probably penultimate month of pregnancy according to the doctor and she was still fighting for control of her life.

The first week into the leave she would take long walks, long enough for Levi to feel the need to circle the perimeter of the block where their apartment was, only to end up pacing by the entrance of the house not wanting to relax until she got home. Even when she did arrive home, Levi found himself only getting more stressed by her little souvenirs.

She was like a cat. The big difference lay in the fact that while cats brought home dead rats and game, Hange would bring home different types of leaves, roots and other plant parts and leave them on the table next to the microscope she had set up on her desk.

“Shouldn’t you be doing other things?” Levi had asked as he watched Hange set up the microscope in their room in the wee hours of morning, when he was about to sleep.

“What other things? I’m on leave right?” Hange had too much venom on the word leave that Levi had to look away and remind himself that it was Historia after all who made the final say. So it’s her fault not mine. He would reassure himself, conveniently forgetting the fact that he did draft the letter. He didn’t reply to Hange’s implicit accusation, instead deciding to hide under the covers of his bed and stay there unmoving, even when it did take him an extra three hours to fall asleep.

By the second week, Levi could barely get a wink at night, too busy wondering what risk lay in a pregnant person studying such strange substances. Levi started to follow her surreptitiously as she went about the town, only to see that she had been getting them from a nearby public garden.

It wasn’t strange at all to see Hange digging through plants, roots and flowers. She had expressed her passion for botany on top of titans too many times to count.

But she’s pregnant. And that’s unsanitary as fuck. Hange being unsanitary as fuck wasn’t anything new though. Levi had known her long enough to accept it.

The circumstances then were different. For a while, Levi considered telling her off. He found himself in a state of panic a second later though completely forgetting that intention, as he realized that it wasn’t just unsanitary. A few inches away, a dog decided to pee on that same soil which Hange was digging through. Somehow that view was what helped him put three and two together to get five. Hange was desperately studying whatever green and brown she could find. And it was mixing with dog shit, cat shit and whatever else made their home in that little bush.

Levi did not need to consult a doctor to know that it was potentially dangerous for a pregnant woman. He rushed back home, went to Hange’s desk and disposed of all the samples into a bag and threw it out into the dumpster before she could get home.

For the first time, Levi was grateful that Hange did go on such long walks. That gave Levi at least enough time to create a backstory for the sudden cleanliness of her desk and her missing samples. In a state of panic though and faced with the obstacle of limited time, Levi had come up with another idea, an idiotic one, completely unbelievable that it had little chance of working.

Levi was desperate though. Although he did have the reflexes on the battlefield to take down an enemy bent on killing him, scrambling to find a cover up story for a very pregnant and very unpredictable Hange Zoe was another story.

At that rate though, Hange must have been as crazy, desperate and idiotic as him a result of the pregnancy hormones and the stress of being in almost total isolation in a smaller part of town with little to no responsilities. Hange came home to see rocks lined up, in the stead of her previous samples, and continued on her mini research as if nothing had changed.

They were less alarming test subjects at least. Levi had made sure to wash them thoroughly beforehand. They did not stink as much as the plants. And they had at least caught Hange’s interest enough that she did not ask too much about the missing plant samples, having brushed off the white lie of a bird stealing them.

Overtime, Levi eventually realized she never did believe the lie. She was too sharp for that. In fact, the reason she had accepted such a blatant lie in the first place was because the rocks on the table had turned out to be a more interesting subject. The hammers and nails became an ubiquitous part of her work desk. The meticulous side of Levi was also starting to begrudgingly notice the scratches on the table from the scrape of rock on wood.

From a coping mechanism of studying plants and greens, Hange had shifted to studying rocks. And as Levi started to realize over dinner, rocks were an incredibly boring topic, so boring that he almost missed hearing about photosynthesis and the difference of a xylem and a phloem.

Apparently, there were so many different types of rocks and the ones he had randomly picked out in the garden could have been igneous, hinting to the possibility of volcanic or seismic activity around the area. How she had gotten that from a bunch of random rocks, Levi did not know. She started talking about extracting metals from ores. And she had started to name the rocks too apparently: Gabbro, limestone, basalt. Hearing those names echo in his head, only made Levi miss the plants.

He started to particularly miss the plants a little more when the streets started to line with them, and the main square near their place was fitted with a large tree in the center, decorated with lights and bright balls. A surprising addition to his everyday view on the way to the tea shop.

Christmas. He never really did get used to it. A tradition brought from Marley apparently. With Hange's new obsession with rocks, the large tree in the middle of the square seemed almost nostalgic.

"So it looks like the Christmas tree can amaze even the most serious men," A voice said behind him.

The Christmas Tree was placed in the middle of the square where the tea shop was also conveniently located. And from his good view of the Christmas Tree in the middle, Levi was also a good few feet away from the shop. He only had to look behind him to see Mr. Spassky, having a smoke at the entrance.

That thoughtless comment was enough to make Levi look away from the tree faster than he had wanted to. He entered the tea shop with a Mr. Spassky trailing behind and the tea had helped him cope. By that point, he had almost completely forgotten the Christmas Tree in the middle of the square.

Like always, Mr. Spasky would place a cup of black tea and make conversation. “So what did you get her?”

It was Hange who had pointed out years ago that his birthday was on the same day as Christmas day. For Levi, it was a surprise since he had built a habit through the years of never giving days enough importance to analyze them beyond what was available at face value. At that moment, when the shopkeeper noted that Christmas Eve was that night, Levi could only spit out the tea. It was his birthday. It was almost Christmas. And he had spent too much time and energy keeping Hange sane to have even noticed.

Mr. Spassky was a great salesman and a great marketer. Levi at that moment was at the mercy of his complex emotions constantly flitting from the guilt of disposing of Hange’s samples to his overall exhausted state to the state of panic which would stop by for a visit every few hours, when he would ask the question of what Hange could be doing back home at that exact moment.

If Levi had been any sharper that day, he probably would have figured it out as quickly as he had figured out the food campaigns of King Fritz years ago that Christmas was merely a seasonal marketing campaign to get people to buy more and that new tradition on giving engagement rings was a piece of all year long marketing tactic to keep the jewelry business alive.

At his most vulnerable though, Levi had become prey to those propaganda and the nagging feelings of guilt, only spread through him, getting stronger with every point they made. He and Hange had been living together for more than a year, Hell she was pregnant with their first child already.

And I never bothered to get her an engagement ring or a Christmas present? For the first time since it opened, Levi was finally starting to see the value and novelty in that quaint jewelry shop next to the tea shop.

As Mr. Spassky guided him through the doors of the jewelry shop, Levi was quick to notice the different rings on display. What caught Levi’s eye in particular was the display case on the side of the room that sold shiny colored metals, similar to a cavern under a church Levi had visited so many years ago. On the walls were pictures and detailed drawings of couples exchanging rings, only highlighting the tradition Levi had noticed among other couples he had witnessed.

Is there really commitment if there’s no ring?

Is it really love if you don’t buy them anything for Christmas?

Every good romance starts with a ring.

Blatant propaganda. Yet strong and relevant enough for Levi to put enough thought into picking out a ring.

The one Levi had picked out was of a minimalist design. The color in particular though was what stood out. At first glance, it looked like a typical gold or yellow. As Levi took a closer look from different angles under a light source, he couldn’t help but notice the way it glowed a bright green and was quick to fall back to a simple yellow. It did it too consistently though that Levi was sure it was not just a trick of the light.

Green Gold. That was what it was called according to the shopkeeper as he held it up to the late much better than what Levi had done. From the different angles, Levi could see the gleam of gold and the tinge of green.

Levi did not need the confirmation of the color to decide to buy it. Maybe it was the characteristic cloak they would wear from so many years ago which made it such an obvious choice. Maybe it was the homesickness that came and went from living and fighting in an almost all green landscape almost their whole lives then being forced to move somewhere within the city that had pushed him to that. Maybe it was a combination of all that, only supplemented by the nostalgia that came with missing Hange’s obsession with trees.

It probably was the fact that the color green had been so ubiquitous the past two decades of his life. Seeing it as a faint yet beautiful glow had awakened emotions of sentimentality for a life he had lived long before.

As Levi took in the scenery of the urban jungle which they had been living in for the past few years and the stark contrast to the green they had been fighting in for many more years, maybe he did start to understand her obsession with green. In fact, he did realize with his own impulse purchase, he was a tad fixated with the color green too.

He gripped his small gift bag a little tighter as he arrived at the entrance of the apartment they shared.

“Hange, Merry Christmas.” Levi was completely comfortable with Hange and he was completely aware of that. Yet, for that moment he needed to rehearse it, having occupied himself with whether to say Merry Christmas before or after handing her the present.

Hange returned the greeting with her own questioning look, which could have maybe even been judgmental. For some reason, that had made Levi blush. He looked away as soon as he gave it and went straight to the kitchen to cram the Christmas Eve dinner he had forgotten about.

He allowed himself a last look, only to see a smile creep up Hange’s lips as she opened the gift box. Levi found himself smiling in return, even if he knew she wouldn’t notice it with his back to her. It had been weeks since he had seen such excitement in those eyes as she smiled, that same excitement and enthusiasm he had seen as she recounted to him every development in Paradis. As he was cutting the tomatoes for their meal that night, he couldn’t help but think that that smile gave him the same sense of nostalgia as the color green.

Maybe she felt it too?

“It looks like I was right… I knew they’d put titanium here. It shouldn’t be this hard if there wasn’t any.”

Levi placed the newly cooked pasta on their dining table. Hange was on the living room table, with a lamp at full brightness, hunched over like she was working on something. Just like always, Hange was scratching the table below with a new stone

A shiny new stone…. “Is that the gift I bought you?” Levi asked.

“Yeah…”

There must have been a hint of accusation or anger in Levi’s voice. The face Hange had was reminiscent to what one would see when a dog is caught chewing on something they aren’t supposed to. With the realization that what they had done is wrong, most dogs would usually chew faster. Hange had done the human equivalent, or more specifically, the pregnant Hange equivalent of breaking into it faster.

“It’s a ring Hange. You’re supposed to be wearing it!”

“But is it really important that I wear it? Isn’t it more important that we find out the secrets of how they make this?” It was an argument which could have convinced any other scientist. Levi was far from what could have been a good target audience.

“Give me that!” Levi found himself wrestling or at least trying to wrestle someone while avoiding the baby bump which was taking up more than 50% of her waistline at that moment.

“It’s your gift to me Levi! To me! Let me use it like I want to!”

Hange made a good point. That good point and the prospect of wrestling someone who was eight months pregnant with his first child was what got Levi surrendering and just sitting on the sofa within minutes just listening to one of her lectures.

Hange once again scratched the sharp side of the already broken ring on the table then bit it, inadvertently causing Levi more pain for multiple reasons. “See, gold wouldn’t make a scratch like this. This is why it isn’t necessarily pure gold despite what’s written here,” Hange explained as she slid the flier closer to him. “ I’m guessing they used titanium here, similar to the metal they used for our blades and the ODM gear. Maybe even copper or iron?

“So it was a fake,” Levi said bitterly. It was the mention of such cheap metals making its way into such a beautiful object with such a unique shine to it. He felt like an idiot for actually believing it was something pure.”

“This is actually a good thing because if they did make something out of pure gold, it would scratch pretty fast. In fact, the other metals make it so that it lasts longer.”

“That was supposed to be a Christmas Gift,” Levi said, completely ignoring Hange’s explanation.

“It was a great Christmas gift. I’ve never seen this shade of gold in my life.” Hange said.

“Yeah, it was supposed to be an engagement gift too.” Levi managed to add before the blood rushed through his face, leaving him unable to speak for a few seconds.

“Engagement?”

“Mr. Spassky said that most people give a ring to someone when they want to spend the rest of their lives with them.” Levi did not know how he had managed to get that out.

“And you’re falling for that propaganda now? Levi, we’ve been living together for the past two years. We’ve done things. I’m pregnant with our first kid. We don’t need a piece of metal to prove anything.”

At that moment, Levi remembered his own mother who had raised him. She’s done things. She was pregnant with someone’s kid. Yet he had never met his father.

Then what do we have to prove it? Levi didn’t need to ask her. He felt it in how quickly the exasperation of a minute ago gradually morphed into a playful feeling that tickled his chest and the sudden urge to grab her from behind and feel her tummy. He felt it a second later as she put her hands on his and gripped his hands a little tighter. Just the way he had wanted it.

Hange lay back down on the sofa next to him and gave him one of the softest smiles. She started to yawn and lay her head on his. She had fallen asleep next to him multiple times before. At that moment, he appreciated it a little more. As battle hardened soldiers, they would have only ever fallen asleep next to someone they completely trusted. Then and there, pregnant and tired, Hange was at her most vulnerable.

Then what do we have to prove it? The fact that they knew each other inside and out. The commitment to make it work. Their trust in the other to do the same.

At that moment, they were both at their most vulnerable.

“Now that I think about it... I haven’t been able to buy you a birthday christmas present,” Hange said, her voice only getting softer as she buried her face into his shoulder. “Maybe if you let me go shopping downtown I would.”

“You know what would be the best Christmas birthday gift? You not accidentally killing our kid.”

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hange #fanfic

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thebrownssociety · 3 years

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what’s the sibling dynamic between buster and elmyra? since elmer and bugs are married in and the looney tunes cast adopted the tiny toons cast

Thanks for the ask! Sorry it's taken so long, I was trying to tie all the threads together.

So, I'm going to include Babs in this as well, as I headcanon Bugs and Elmer adopted Buster, Babs and Elmyra together.

So to understand this we've got to go back to after Tiny Toons had finished filming in early 1992. By that point the kids were all 5 years old and had basically formed a tight-knit group. They were also at the stage in there development when they were starting to expand a little bit beyond what their official characterisation was.

So, take Montanna Max, for example, although he was still hot-headed, obsessed with money and greedy [and those traits would never go away] he was now learning that his friends [and particularly the adults] weren't going to put up with his screaming at them all day and not sharing anything and that if he wanted to remain friends with them he was going to have to change his behaviour at least a little. The rest of the toons would accept what he was created as, but they wouldn't accept him using that as an excuse to act completely out of order.

Buster and Babs upon finishing filming were both enrolled in a two-year long course which was basically going to help them adjust to not being a protagonist anymore. It's a course that every protagonist of a TV show, or a film, does after the completion of there first show, and it basically helps them come to terms with the fact they are not the centre of the universe. The reason for this is because it's been accepted and realised that it's very hard for a toon who's had there entire show revolve around them to suddenly not have that anymore and be sent out into the world of Toons where most Toons don't care.

As a genreral rule in Toontown, unless you've achieved the fame levels of Bugs Bunny or Mickey Mouse, or are associated with them, no one really cares what film you were in. So Anna and Elsa are treated like goddesses in Toontown because, there film was really successful and they're seen as really good characters, contrast that with Princess Aurora [who's film was a box-office bomb at time of release, I believe] who is more respected and liked because she's royalty and she's really nice than because her film was successful.

In short, unless your film is massively successful at time of release, you're just another toon and the two-year course helps protagonists come to terms with that. There are positives as well, it's not all 'you're nothing now'. The toons work on their individual skills and how they may be transferred to other things. [Babs's impression are so good, for instance, that even if Tiny Toons never got rebooted, she'd still have a really good shot at becoming a Toon Impressionist, if she wanted to. Buster's flexibility and ability to 'read' other people means he'd potentially be good as a nurse/doctor/police officer or just a role that's with the public.]

While Buster and Babs were doing that Elmyra spent time with Bugs and Elmer and practiced her toon powers while benefiting from the individual attention being given by her dads. [Just a note, there is a two-year course for villains as well that was introduced in the 60's that helps them to...not be so villainous, but you have to meet a certain level of 'badness' like Maleficent OR Evil Queen to get in there and - obviously - Elmyra doesn't meet that requirement.]

So, back to the actual ask, Buster, Babs and Elmyra moved into Bugs and Elmer's 5-bedroom mansion shortly after filming ended. It was decided they would each have there own room, which they decorated to there own preferences [Elmyra's is very VERY pink]. So this relieved some tension, because Babs HATED the idea of sharing a room with Elmyra. [Elmyra, for her part, was happy about the idea and cried buckets when she was told it wouldn't be happening.]

At first Buster didn't really get on well with Elmyra at all. Over filming he'd kind of managed to build her up into the 'oh, help me, it's Elmyra' figure, and although he knew she was largely harmless, he still didn't like her. Her 'baby-act' and need to be constantly supervised also grated. This was the same for Babs.

Elmyra, at first, adored the idea of living with Babs and Buster and had visions of dressing them up all day in 'cutesey-wutesey outfits'. It may surprise you to know, that Buster and Babs did not WANT to be dressed up in outfits, cute or otherwise, and had no issue anvilling her to get the point across. This led to tears on Elmyra's part and frustration on Babs and Buster's.

This did eventually mellow out though, due to a couple of things, firstly - Bugs and Elmer's determination to teach Elmyra how to handle her new brother and sister properly [and vice versa for the bunny's]. Secondly - because Elmyra did have regular session with Doctor Scratchensniff every week during which they worked on 'how not to strangle animals when you hug them.' among other things and thirdly because Buster and Babs realised things where not all sunny for Elmyra.

That sounds really ominous, but what I may is that a few of you may have remembered that Elmyra actually had a family when she was on the show. A physical one, not just 'mentioned' parents like Buster. [Babs had a mother who was shown, but Babs's mother is a sufficiently flat characters, that if she doesn't have Babs in the house she assumes she's at school. It doesn't matter whether it's snowing, the middle of the school holidays or the middle of the night, as far as 'Mrs Bunny' is concerned, Babs is at school.]

It was decided after Tiny Toons ended that Elmyra should continue to see her 'designed' family [the family she was designed to have] at the weekends. Friday afternoon she walked home/would be dropped off by someone at her designed parents house and she would stay there until Sunday night until she was returned just after dinner. [So Elmyra would miss dinner with Bugs and co]

This worked for a little while until it got to when Elmyra was going into Grade 1 and Elmer realised she was always doing her homework when she got home. Her parents weren't helping her. In a rather tense conversation he asked Elmyra's designed parents if they would help her do her homework. They promptly replied that the homework was to difficult for 'there little baby' and she should be given something age-appropriate. It was during that discussion that Elmer discovered her 'parents' thought she was 4 years old.

Even by Toon standards, this was a warning flag and Elmer promptly excused himself and ran the conversation by Doctor Scratchensniff because the fact Elmyra's parents didn't seem to recognise the fact that A} her designed age was 12 and B} she was actually 6, not 4 - was concerning to say the least.

Now. Normally D.S. doesn't get involved with this kind of thing because otherwise he'd never do anything else, but as Elmyra was already a patient of his and he decided it wouldn't do Elmer/Bugs any good if they challenged Elmyra's parents themselves, he decided he better have a word with them herself.

He had his word. And they seemed to understand. Scratchy went back to Bugs and Elmer and told them they didn't have to worry, that Elmyra's parents understood her designed age was 12 and that she would get older and mature above that [hopefully]. Bugs and Elmer [particularly Elmer] were suspicious about this at first, but Elmyra came back from her parents having had her homework done and with tales of having done exciting things during the weekend. She was also - they noticed - being given age-appropriate things to play with and this lasted...until she moved up to middle school.

Elmyra moved up to middle school a year after Buster and Babs did, which meant they weren't in the same class. However they were in the same house and it became noticeable that Elmyra didn't seem very happy. Specifically she didn't seem very happy with the idea of going to her parents house at the weekend and was somehow even less happy when she came back.

Bugs and Elmer had noticed this and tried to ask her what was wrong, but she refused to tell them. Buster didn't really want to get involved - he felt it would open a long, emotional conversation he didn't really want to have - but when Elmyra came home one day in tears and he was the only one in the house it fell to him to deal with it.

Turns out Elmyra's parents did not like the fact she was in middle school. They thought the schoolwork she was doing was to advanced for her [it was perfectly acceptable work for her grade and she was doing well with it] and her mother in particular was concerned because Elmyra had started Noticing Boys. This did not fit with the notion they had that she was still a little girl who spoke in a babyish voice and called everything 'cuddly-wuddly' despite the fact that Elmyra herself was doing her best to drop the 'cuddly-wudddly's' [unfortunately she still had to keep the babyish voice] and asking that her parents maybe not buy her games and stuff that were clearly designed for a child under 10.

By this point all this had been going on for a few months. Buster - after calming Elmyra down and running the situation by Hampton - told there dads what was going on with Elmyra and they took matters out of his hands.

Doctor Scratchensniff paid another visit to Elmyra's parents with the intention of explaining to them, gently and tactfully, why they needed to change the way they were treating Elmyra because it was risking damaging her and no one has a clue what was actually said in that meeting, but the end shot was that Elmyra no longer saw her parents on the weekend. She could contact them again at 16 if she wanted to, but until then it was in her best interests to stay away from them.

You all may be wondering why I'm going into so much detail about Elmyra's circumstances, and that's because I feel it's necessary to understand the siblings dynamic. Buster, Babs and Elmyra - up until they were about 11 - only spent Mon-Thurs as a proper group. During that time they anvilled each other, teased each other and tried to actively avoid each other [or rather Buster and Babs tried to actively avoid Elmyra when she was at her most annoying] They also played games together, struggled through school-work together and dealt with there annoying parents together. They became a pretty effective sibling team.

Buster and Babs - despite being created to have a crush on each other - came to view each other as adopted siblings and remained close. They laughed together, joke together and messed with people together.

Babs and Elmyra go shopping together, they talk about stuff together - 'stuff' being the subjects of romances and Life in general that perhaps Buster wouldn't want to be a part off - they get on pretty well actually, mainly because they have a good few things in common and on Elmyra's sensible non-complete-moron days they can even have deep conversations about politics and the world in general as well as analysing TV shows and fangirling over there favourite characters.

Buster and Elmyra are a bit of an odd paring. On Elmyra's smart days the two of them can be quite devious and can throw adults for a loop easily. On her less smart days Buster just tries to stay out her way. The things with Buster and Elmyra is that he basically thought of her as an annoyance for the first 5 years off his life. When he was adopted by Bugs and Elmer and found himself now living with her he was essentially banned from insulting her to harshly. ["No anvilling at the dinner table, Buster!"] But part the issue was that Buster was jealous because Elmyra had another family she got too see and he didn't. He knew that Bugs and Elmer were his official family and it was great to be adopted by his mentor but he couldn't help a pang of envy every time Elmyra got in the car to go to her parents house.

And then the breakdown happened with Elmyra when she was 11 [Buster and Babs knew her parents had had a few problems with her before, but didn't know the exact details, To be fair not even Elmyra herself knew the exact details. Elmer had the conversation away from her and then the rest of it was kept away from her. The only thing she was told was that her parents would now be helping her with homework when she went to them at the weekend.] and Buster realised that Elmyra's home life was not a bed of roses and he made a conscious effort to not be so short with her and to be more patient in the way that Babs seems to be able to do effortlessly. [Babs's realised pretty quickly after they all started living together that Elmyra wasn't going to change and decided that rather than fight it she was just going to embrace it. She was hoping that Elmyra would go away after Babs played 'dress-up' with her, but it just made Elmyra like her more. After a couple of months - and a conversation with Bugs - Babs realised that Elmyra literally just wanted someone to spend time with and dress up. But it was more the spending time than the dressing up that Elmyra liked. They managed to work out a system where Babs would let Elmyra dress her up and do her ears, if Elmyra would give feedback on Babs's impressions and watch comedy tapes with her.]

Going back to Buster, it took a while and, while he and Elmyra are never going to be 'best friends', Buster eventually realised she wasn't that bad and started to enjoy spending time with her.

Elmyra, for her part, has made a conscious effort over the years to not hug her siblings [or any other cute, fluffy creatures for that matter] to tightly, dress them up against their will, or chase them round the earth till they just give up. She still hugs and does like going shopping [or 'grown-up dress up' as Babs calls it] and will chase them to give them a hug if she's having a particularly stupid day or thinks they look upset, but the main thing is that Elmyra is trying.

Very very trying.

#Looney Tunes Headcanons #Looney Tunes #Headcanons #Looney Tunes Ask #Tiny Toons #Elmyra Duff #buster bunny #babs bunny #Sibling relationships #Babs Buster and Elmyra #It was an interesting time for Elmyra really

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rainythefox · 3 years

Text

Nightfall (CH.15)

Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU/Canon Divergence. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling upon dark secrets. She can’t call the law; Wesker is the law, and she can’t tell Chris. She is trapped…Claire/Wesker & Slight Chris/Jill (There’s Wesker & William Bromance too lol). Rated M for smut, language, violence, adult content.

AO3 Link

Chapter 15:Infatuation

Claire was awake when she heard Chris getting ready for work, but she stayed in bed. She didn’t join him for breakfast or a cup of coffee. She didn’t see him off. She just turned over on her side, away from her door where the hallway light creeped through underneath. She had endured a near sleepless night of tosses and turns, the aches in her muscles a stinging reminder of what she had done.

She must’ve fallen asleep for a couple of hours because she awoke to sunshine peeking through the curtains. The sun was out, reflecting off the snow that blanketed the city. Claire got out of bed and did her usual morning ritual: dressing, brushing her teeth, hopelessly trying to come up with a way to escape her grim situation. Funny how that last one had snuck into her daily routine. Her new normal apparently.

Claire made herself toast and orange juice for breakfast but barely touched it. She tried distracting herself with the newspaper, but there wasn’t anything interesting to read in Raccoon Times.

Umbrella Corporation opens new distribution center, creates 600 new jobs

Mayor Warren promises more funding for local orphanage

Kite Bros. expands Downtown travel with new subway tunnel

Clock Tower Plaza puts up traditional Raccoon City Christmas Tree

Even though Chris left her his truck again, she didn’t want to go anywhere. Where would she go? See a friend and potentially drag them into her situation? Try and get help from someone else that was under Wesker’s boot or on his payroll? Raccoon City seemed like an illusion now, a cesspool of collusion and extortion. As though the rose-colored glasses she had once viewed the city in were ripped from her eyes to expose all of the red flags and blood she couldn’t see before.

Besides, she felt bad for the fight she had with her brother last night. Despite Chris overstepping boundaries with his overprotective nature, he was just concerned for her. He knew she was hiding something and was worried. The Redfield siblings only had each other, for nearly nine years now. Chris had sacrificed time and time again for her, to make sure they could stay together, to make sure she could go to college, always making sure she had what she needed over himself. Even when Chris’s behavior got him discharged more than once, he always put her first.

He knew she could take care of herself. He made sure he taught her all he could. Most brothers were protective of their sisters, but Claire wondered if Chris’s...excessiveness was perhaps a form of PTSD from what happened to their parents. Stepping into that guardian role, he went right into the Air Force, just like their parents. He abandoned a normal future to ensure hers, to keep them together, and to somehow get closer to the parents they had lost.

That was why it was hard to stay mad at him. Even if this time he unmindfully didn’t know the danger he was putting them in with his good, albeit intemperate, intentions.

Claire decided she would apologize when Chris got home that evening. And so, she spent the day trying to be productive, to keep her mind from wandering. She studied for a while, and then cleaned the house for a bit, blasting Queen at high volume. However, no matter what she did, she couldn’t keep herself from thinking about not only her situation, but the man that now had her literally pinned under him. She worried what his next scheme for her would be. But she’d be lying to herself if she denied the excitement that also thrummed through her veins. The strange mix made her queasy.

By the time it started getting dark, Claire realized she had wasted most of her day deep in thought, trying to make sense of it all, plotting for a way out, and maybe spending more time than she’d care to admit thinking about what happened between her and Wesker.

Chris would be home soon, so she started dinner. While cooking, she turned on the television to keep her mind focused, but after a few channel changes, a local news station caught her attention with a caption that filled her lungs with ice.

“Raccoon University professor missing, linked to drugging and sexual assault of multiple students.”

Claire turned up the volume, perturbed, because she just knew which professor they were talking about…

“-ow long has this been going on, Alyssa?” asked the anchor.

The news reporter, a pretty, bob-cut blonde, was quick to answer while standing out in the cold in front of Raccoon University, wearing a white coat and a red suit. “I’m being told this may have been happening for over a year now. The RPD are keeping the victims’ identities under wraps at this time, but I do know there are at least four. Dr. Simon Lowery has been missing for a little over 24 hours, having fled after trying to drug a female student at the open house last night. We have yet to get a statement from his wife, but police are saying she had no idea of his behavior. We’ve heard the same testimonies from colleagues. This is one of those -”

Claire clicked the remote. The TV went black, silent. She stared at the screen, a shocked reflection looking back at her. The news story rubbed her wrong. Lowery was a bad man, she knew that much. He would’ve killed her over those documents, would’ve strangled her in the snow when they fought to keep her quiet over stealing whatever it was she had stolen. But not once did she get the feeling he was like that.

She’d bet money that the news story over Lowery was made up to cover up what really happened. She wasn’t sure if Wesker came up with the story or if it was any of his numerous pawns. Didn’t matter. It proved what she already knew, just like the other day when the news covered that Finley guy’s supposed “suicide” in his car. Just as Wesker had told her before, their fates were whatever he decided. Not just their deaths but their legacies, tainting and twisting them, dismantling and disgracing them, like a true god of death.

The city would never know what really happened to Finley and Lowery, whether they deserved their fates or not.

Claire shook out of her thoughts, a chill running over her as she recalled Finley’s head exploding, blood spraying all over the snow. Why had fate led her down that very same path that day?

A smoky, tangy smell pervaded her nostrils. Dinner was burning! Cursing, she raced into the kitchen to save it. The pork chops were burned on one side but other than that, the rest of dinner turned out okay.

Chris came in not long after she had finished cooking, silently walking over to her spot on the couch as she read a book. The couch shifted when he sat down, and so she looked up from the pages. Still in STARS uniform, her older brother scratched the back of his head, uncomfortable but presenting her an apologetic smile. It was hard to stay mad at him with a puppy-dog face like that.

“Hey…”

“Hey,” she mimicked.

“I’m sorry, Sis. About last night. I clearly went overboard. It’s been eating at me all day.”

“Chris, it’s -”

“Let me finish,” he pleaded. “I know you’re an adult. I know you can kick anyone’s ass. I’m overprotective because of what happened to Mom and Dad.”

She sighed. “I know.”

“But that’s no excuse to act the way I did. I trust you, Claire. And I believe in you. But I get so...obsessed with making sure you’re safe and-and fine that my stupid brain can’t see anything else! I let it get the better of me too much. So, from now on, I’ll work hard to keep myself from going overboard and to trust you more. N-Not that I haven’t trusted you! You’ve never given me a reason to doubt you. It’s stupid of me to act like you have. We’ve always had that unspoken pact that we can tell each other anything and it will always stand.”

Claire shifted uncomfortably in her spot. “A-Always.”

“I love you, Sis. I’m really sorry.”

The Redfield siblings were both stubborn and proud, and so sometimes it was Chris who apologized first and sometimes it was Claire. Although Chris usually gave in before she did. Despite that, this was still pretty soon for Chris to give in, as big as a fight they had. Claire wondered if something happened at work that made Chris come to his senses faster. Maybe Jill talked to him? Wouldn’t be the first time. She was her brother’s best friend, after all.

She decided it wasn’t important for now. She had been ready to apologize to her brother when he got home, and here he was apologizing as well. She was ready to put the whole fight behind them and move on...as best as she could in her predicament anyway. At least Chris had seemingly given up pushing her for answers. What a lucky break! Jill must’ve really lined him out.

Claire hugged Chris. “I’m sorry too, Bro. Love you!”

His strong arms wrapped around her and squeezed hard. For years growing up, it had been the safest feeling in the world. She always cherished it. Soon they pulled away, and got up to eat dinner.

William paced, flipping through pages, catching important details and logging them away at a rate far faster than the average person. Wesker leaned against the wall, dressed in his STARS attire, watching him pace a trench in front of him. Always calm, always collected. How did he do it?!

The cable car shuddered, flicking the light overhead as it rose to the surface. He hated taking this hunk of junk! Normally, he didn’t have to, but they were meeting Irons in the sewers. Perfect place to find the slimy rat.

“No! Goddamn it, no! Why? They said Sheena Island was strictly testing and experimentation! That old bastard is moving my Hunter research there without my consent, and now the Tyrants? Mass production on a prototype? Even if they perfect the Epsilon strain, it’s nowhere near ready for cloning!”

“Are you truly all that surprised?” Wesker asked.

“No, I just…” William sighed. “It’s shit like this that tells me Spencer has no plans to put me on the executive board! If I don’t get in there, we’ll never be able to fulfill our plans! And there’s no way in hell I’m bartering the G-Virus for that spot. It’s my legacy, mine to completely control. He’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead fingers!”

“Best not tempt fate, old friend.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“At any rate, your tantrum is premature. With those numbers, the Sheena Island facility won’t be operable for any kind of mass production until August at the earliest. The research team on the Epsilon strain knows that the T-002 will be obsolete by the time it is finished. More than likely a new model is being developed and that will be the one they intend to manufacture. We have time to take this knowledge and use it to our advantage later.”

Birkin snorted. Lately Al’s “optimism” gave him anxiety. "Don’t you think we have our fingers in too many pies already? And toes at this rate. We’re wearing ourselves thin, Al. With too many enemies waiting for us to screw up.”

It was a reasonable concern. Sheena Island’s true motives were still mostly top-secret for now, going by this information sent by Alex. Roth must’ve bought this information from this other cohort of his, and was probably trying to haggle deals with Mueller, Lowery, and Bard. As well as Crawford and Finley. William made a mental note to thank Alex for this later. Wesker may have been a member of the Umbrella Intelligence Division as well, but he meticulously watched his dealings, aware of Spencer’s tabs on him. Alex didn’t have this problem, and so was their go-to source of anything they weren’t privy to.

His partner scowled. “That is such an absurd idiom. Regardless, we are committed at this point. Roth still has our stolen data and the plans for Sheena Island directly affects our goals. You admitted it yourself.”

The cable car shook and screeched, sliding to a halt. The light above the door turned green, and the robotic female voice told them to watch their step and have a good day. No, he would certainly not have a good day! He was having to deal with this and was about to meet a big rat in a stinky sewer. Didn’t the stupid voice know that? How insensitive!

“Yeah, I know. Guess we better be careful how we handle this.”

Wesker and William exited the cable car and walked side by side through the sewer facility. There weren’t many workers, but they all gave them a wide berth, keeping their heads down.

Wesker chuckled to himself, but William heard it over the water pumps and machinery.

“What’s so funny?”

“Just acknowledging that your prolonged bout of paranoia has made us change places. I’m usually the one telling you we need to be careful.”

They were both ruthless and ambitious, but Wesker had more patience and control. And although his back-and-forth stints of paranoia did make him more cautious, Will still hadn’t developed the patience or control that his partner had always had.

If only you knew why...what he’s making me do…

William frowned, rubbing his shoulder and quickly cleared his throat. “Well, no wonder you're so optimistic lately, taking after me. Like a little ball of sunshine!"

His partner didn’t respond to that, and William hoped it wasn’t because he had caught his nervous tic. In case he did, he quickly changed the subject. “So, did you get the kind of reaction out of Ada you were expecting?”

“More or less. I’m still annoyed by how you handled it though.”

“Look, you asked me to bring Claire up in a way to get a reaction from Ada to see if your suspicions were right and I did just that! You’re welcome, by the way!”

They reached the monitor room where they were meeting with Chief Irons. William entered first, and the Chief immediately noticed him, an Umbrella mercenary on each side of him. His pudgy eyes squinted testily and he opened his mouth to start his usual complaining. That is, until Wesker entered right behind him. His mouth quickly snapped shut. Ah, the benefits of having Al around!

Irons glanced around the room, his usual air of arrogance belittled and squashed like a bug. But there was nowhere to run in this room, nothing to protect him. He was at their mercy, but the tough-as-nails Irons wouldn’t be one to break so easily.

He half-laughed, half-snorted, attempting to cover his discomfort. “Now this must be a special occasion if you're both here. Rumor has it when you two are together, someone's going to die...or wish they would."

"Well, funny thing about rumors, Brian," William smirked. "There’s always some truth to them."

It was fun seeing the color drain from his face only to completely flush red like a cherry. He glared their way, fists forming tightly at his sides. "Oh yeah? And how exactly am I on you two assholes' shit list today? Considering all I do is cover your goddamn tracks and provide you with security all hours of every fucking day. Wait, don't tell me, you two have a rehearsed good cop, bad cop routine just for me?" He laughed. "No thanks."

Will nudged Albert. "Damn it, he guessed it! Wait, am I bad cop this time? I forget?"

"I'm always bad cop."

"No fair! We should take turns!"

Irons rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Just get to the point of why I'm here. If we're negotiating new deals, it's a bad time. I'm a busy man, after all."

"Funny you should mention that, Chief," Wesker sneered. "We're done negotiating with you."

The Umbrella mercs pulled their guns on the Chief. Irons froze on the spot, eyes bulging and going to the trained weapons, and this time he turned a bit green.

“Listen, Albert...let’s not get too hasty. Let’s talk like gentlemen. I-I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

His resolve was cracking slowly, but William wouldn’t count the bastard out just yet. Irons had grown complacent in his position, taking advantage of anything he could get his grubby hands on. William and Wesker had allowed much of this behavior to slide in the knowledge that Irons would eventually get himself into a bind. And that’s where he was now.

“Of course, Brian. I am a sophisticated man, after all. Take a seat.”

The Chief of Police looked relieved at that and pulled out a chair and sat down. The Umbrella mercenaries stood at his back, guns still aimed to the back of his head. William and Albert sat down across from him.

William slid a sealed yellow envelope across the table to Irons. “Open it and take a good, hard look, Brian.”

Irons wiped his mustache, a little sweat forming on his brow. He slowly opened the envelope and sifted through the contents. Each page he flipped through he grew a shade whiter, until he was pasty like a ghost.

“What the fuck is this?”

William leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Oh, I don’t know. You tell us.”

Irons trembled in his chair, both from anger and fear. He flushed again, one fat fist crinkling a page and he quickly stood. “You fucking bastards!”

One merc’s gun barrel pressed into Irons’ skull and he quickly remembered his place. He slowly sat down. He sure was sweating a lot now!

“You put yourself in this situation, Brian,” Wesker stated. “You know I keep tabs on you and yet you got sloppy. Arrogant, too, thinking you’d be able to set me up.”

“Your sick fantasies with the mayor’s daughter will be released to the public. Your replacement has already been chosen. You will die,” William continued.

“No! No, please! We can come to an agreement!”

“There are no more agreements to come to, Brian,” Wesker growled. “Just two choices. You can die like William so eloquently stated or you can sell the remainder of your pathetic soul to our cause.”

And unsurprisingly, the Chief went with the option that kept his sorry ass alive. “Deal! You got it!”

“And just so we’re clear. That -” William motioned to the envelope. “- never goes away. This is your last chance. Next time...well...there won’t be a next time. Just you dead and your dirty secrets exposed for all to see. Never forget how replaceable you are, Brian.”

Irons slowly nodded, guarded. “And exactly what are you two going to want me to do for your “cause”?”

“You will still perform your normal duties for Umbrella, and only report to me,” Wesker explained. “But if William and I tell you to do something, you do it. Even if it goes against your orders from Umbrella.”

“Fine.”

“William will be taking over as your handler. You should thank him. It was my intention to kill you tonight and he convinced me otherwise. If he asks you to perform in the circus, I expect you to clap your flippers and balance that ball without any disinclination. Do I make myself clear?”

Irons ground his jaw and stiffly nodded. “You always do, Albert.”

William sat up a little straighter, a haughty grin spreading. Albert’s protectiveness of him always gave him a feeling of empowerment, feeding his ego, and made a darker part of himself more bold, more ambitious.

“Don’t worry, Brian,” Will said with a fake, friendly smile. “You do a good job and stay on my good side, I always pay really well, way more than Al does.” He added a postscript after seeing the Chief’s interested grin. “Get on my bad side, however, and you’ll be my newest experiment...just ask Lowery.”

The Police Chief’s relief was short-lived. The mention of Lowery’s name struck something in him. He scowled, stiffening once more, looking between the two partners in crime.

“So you two were behind what happened at the university?”

“Oh yes,” William bragged. “Which is partly how we found out about your little attempt to set up Albert.”

“Which brings us to our next order of business, Brian,” Albert added. “Who was with you when you met up with Aaron Roth?”

Irons shook his head, hands on the table, still aware of the guns at his back. “Look, Lowery and Bard paid me to keep their business dealings hush-hush. I think they were trying to coerce Mueller into selling key information on his project in exchange for getting some crucial research going down on some island.”

Will sighed. “Don’t make Al repeat himself, ya idiot.” He snapped his fingers. “His name? Who is he?”

“S-Some bigshot from Europe who works on this island. He’s partners with Roth, buying and selling research within Umbrella and other companies. Goes by Stefan Bennett, but I couldn’t tell you if that’s his real name or not.”

When Will glanced at Al, a subtle flex in his shoulder was all he needed to read him. Bennett wasn't anyone known to them.

"Where are they hiding out?"

Irons shrugged. "Don't know. I'm only being paid for their meetings. Bennett will be at Bard’s annual Christmas party. I don't know if Roth will be there. He acted like he had other plans."

Like selling my research, the bastard...

"Then I suppose a meeting with Nathaniel Bard is in order," Wesker announced, sunglasses glinting under the fluorescents as he looked to William with a dark grin.

William returned his partner's smirk. "Yeah...It's party time."

(photo by IsmaelUchihaSan)

It was the perfect day for Jill to be off, or not have her shift until the evening anyway. Late morning, while Chris was stuck at the RPD, the girls enjoyed a light brunch and lattes at a quaint coffee shop before doing some last minute Christmas shopping.

Claire always enjoyed hanging out with the older woman. They had a lot in common and Claire was always learning something new with her company. She often found herself wondering if her oaf of a brother would ever romantically ask Jill out. It seemed like everyone could see it but them. Then again, perhaps they didn’t pursue their feelings because of their careers. Claire didn’t know the policies of STARS, but there might be restrictions there.

The two of them picked up Claire’s gift she had bought for Chris and took it over to Jill’s house. The box was tall and rectangular, about the size of a small adult. Though bulky, it wasn’t as heavy as it looked, and with each of them on one end, was able to carry it easily into the home.

They were greeted by Jill’s overly affectionate golden retriever, Bella. Claire flopped onto the floor to properly greet the fluffy, blond dog. Jill giggled at the sight.

“Hell of a guard dog, ain’t she?” Jill joked. “She’ll lick you to death.”

Better than getting my throat ripped out by Wesker’s dog…

Claire pushed aside that unpleasant memory and stood back up. Hard to believe that was only a few days ago. Her hand was already a lot better, but her ankle still hurt like a bitch.

They carried the box into Jill’s other bedroom that doubled as an office and home gym. The STARS Alpha member’s house was a three bedroom, two bath. She assumed the third bedroom was a guest room, but Claire wasn’t sure. Chris’s house was a bit bigger, with three bathrooms. They had their own in their bedrooms and then the guest bathroom in the hallway.

“Thanks for keeping this here for a bit, Jill.”

“No problem. I guess my home is the popular choice to hide gifts. Chris has yours here as well. I’m just waiting for Barry to ask to keep the girls’ gifts here, as if they don’t have enough space in that big house of theirs.”

“Well, you know how Moira is. She gets into everything. They can’t hide any gifts from her! She’s gonna be a handful as a teenager!”

They laughed and returned to the living room, Bella trailing behind them. Jill fetched them some water and the girls took a load off on the sofas.

“The punching bag was a good thought,” Jill declared. “I know Chris has been wanting one.”

Claire nodded, smiling as she watched Bella carry around her favorite plush duck toy. “Yeah. He’s been really wanting to start bulking up more. Although when we were playing on his guitar last night, I realized he needs a new toolkit for it. So I might have to go pick up one of those as well.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you play too. Why haven’t I got to see you play yet? I’ve watched Chris lots of times.”

Claire shrugged. “I guess we just never think about it when I'm visiting.” The Redfield siblings didn’t mind playing guitar in front of others, but they cherished playing together, reciting notes and melodies their father had played for them when they were young. “Chris told me you played piano? I need to see that!”

Claire didn’t get the piano at all. That was entirely different from the guitar.

Jill softly laughed. “Yeah. It’s ingrained from childhood. Had the meanest instructor ever. Chris jokes that playing the piano won’t ever do me any good, and suggests I learn something else.”

“He’s just jealous,” Claire joked.

Jill laughed at that. “He totally is. You know, I’m happy you two reconciled so quickly. Chris can be so stubborn sometimes.”

“He can be, but I’m not one to talk. Whatever you said to him, it must’ve worked. So thank you for that. I know he’s just trying to look out for me, but it gets old. I’m an adult and can take care of myself.”

The older woman furrowed her brows and shook her head. “It wasn’t me.”

“Huh? It wasn’t?”

“No, it was the Captain.”

Her heart flipped, twisting her lungs to where she choked on air before she could take a drink of her water. It took all in Claire’s power to keep a straight face and feign something catching in her throat. “I’m sorry?”

“The fight you two had upset Chris a lot, affected his performance when we were doing some training. I guess Wesker picked up on it. Apparently, they took a long lunch together, and the Captain helped Chris get his head straight. At least, that’s what Chris told me later.”

Claire was completely freaked out by that information but hid it, wiping her suddenly clammy hands on her pants. She drank half of her water in one gulp and squeezed the bottle so hard it crumpled in the middle.

“O-Oh, I figured it was you.”

“Not this time,” Jill answered. “But it wasn’t without a lack of trying. He just didn’t listen. Not until he had gone too far anyway, the ass. At least Wesker got through to him.”

“Yeah…” she cleared her throat and stood up. “Well, I should get going. I don’t want to take up all of your free time and I have some studying to do. Thanks for helping me pick that up and letting me hide it here.”

It was partially true. Claire didn’t want to take up all of Jill’s day off before she had to go in for night shift. But mostly the recent news had unsettled her and she needed to gather her thoughts on the matter.

Jill smiled, nodding as she patted Bella on the head as the retriever’s big brown eyes stared up at Claire with that duck still in her mouth, tail thumping hard on the hardwood floor.

“No problem, Claire.”

“Stay safe tonight, Jill.”

“You’re not on the schedule...again.”

Ada sighed, crossing her arms and looking at the guard like he was stupid. He was. “I know that. But that won’t matter. William will still see me.”

The guard shifted uncomfortably, studying her suspiciously and then glancing at his list again. “Dr. Birkin is an extremely busy man. He’s been doing important tests all day and asked me to not allow anyone but Mrs. Dr. Birkin and Dr. Wesker entry. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“I’m here on behalf of Albert. He’s busy at the police department currently. Just give him a ring and you’ll see.”

The guard hesitated, thinking and unsure. Clearly, he was scared to disturb his boss in the middle of his important work.

Ada smiled flirtatiously at him. “C’mon, Johnny. Help a girl out? It’s important.” She winked.

Johnny sighed. “Oh, alright.” He put a hand to his headset. “Dr. Birkin? I’m sorry to bother you, but Ms. Wong insists on seeing you. She says she’s here on behalf of Dr. Wesker.”

The spy didn’t miss how the camera up in the corner of the hallway turned down their way, aiming the attached machine gun right on their faces, blinking red light a far deadlier version of Candid Camera.

“Yes, sir. I understand. Will do,” Johnny said into his headpiece. He nodded at Ada and stepped aside. “You may enter. But please, keep it short. He has much to do.”

Ada waved him off. “Thanks, Johnny.”

She went through the automatic door, was sprayed down again, and strolled through the large, multi-room laboratory. She turned a corner, saw bright yellow and outstretched arms, and, on reflex, kicked the thing away from her.

“Ow!” came a muffled voice.

“Will, you idiot. Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Ada snapped.

The mad scientist pulled the hazmat suit’s helmet off, waddling over to the nearby safety station to strip it off and hang it up.

“I think that’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to scaring you!” William laughed.

Ada crossed her arms, glaring at him. “You didn’t scare me. You didn’t even startle me. You mildly annoyed me.”

“Ugh, you sound like Al. One day I will scare him. It’s on my bucket list. It might get me killed, but imma do it!”

The spy shook her head. “I don’t know about you sometimes.”

Birkin seemed extra...quirky today. He had an extra bounce in his step, grinning, humming as he left the safety station to his main desk. That’s when Ada noticed numerous empty energy drink cans and half a cup of cold, forgotten black coffee.

“How many of these have you had?” He did kind of look like one of those zombies Ada had seen being dissected in the Arklay lab, pale skin and dark circles under his eyes.

“Uhh…” he pondered, counting on his fingers as he twitched and quivered restlessly. “Five? I think?” He flopped down in his chair, shifting it side to side.

Ada leaned against his desk, glancing at the disorganized paperwork strewn about. Her sharp eyes caught many interesting and familiar things: G-Virus, Plant 43, Hunter Beta, Cerberus, NE-Alpha parasite, Lisa Trevor, T-Virus Epsilon. Then her eyes caught the interesting things that she had only seen once and was curious to find out more, now with associated words that intrigued her further: Prototype Virus, Project W, eugenics research, Progenitor, Ndipaya.

She had only a few seconds of absorbing these words before William snatched up the two papers that had anything on it. She watched him open his safe and put them inside, only accessible with a scan of his hand.

Ada acted like none of it interested her. “Five, huh? And how long have you been up, exactly? You look like shit. You smell like shit.”

William lifted his shirt and smelled. “I don’t know, when did Al and I go talk with Irons?"

“That was yesterday morning.”

“Oh...shit. Well, it’s been over 24 hours then.”

“I can tell.”

“So, how’d it go with Mueller?”

“As well as you’d expect. I’ve already relayed the info to Albert. Mueller won’t be a problem. In fact, he’s willing to help if it gets rid of Roth. I guess he feels scammed by the trade.”

William smirked, still swiveling slightly side to side in his chair. “I bet he does. Well, with Lowery no longer having a tongue and Irons and Bard put in their places, looks like we might be able to wrap this up by Christmas!”

Ada rapped her nails on the desk, frowning. “Albert told me the plan. Look, between you and me, I gotta ask...what’s the deal with him and Claire?”

Will chuckled. “What’s wrong? You jealous?”

“In your dreams. It’s just that...I mean, I don’t know the girl,” she lied. “But I thought he was just using her to get to Roth. Why have a fling with her? He doesn’t do that...at least not with just anyone.”

“You sure are a curious little kitty,” William half-joked, half-warned, leaning back in his chair. “What are you hoping to use this knowledge for?”

Ugh, she hated when he was an asshole. Then again, he was protecting Albert and so she should’ve known better. The spy sighed. “Fine. I’m just a little worried about Claire, alright? Can you blame me?”

She knew how Wesker worked. Claire was in way over her head. Didn’t matter how smart and strong she was. Despite being his type, she was still different than most and he did seem to have some kind of soft spot for her. And that is what both bothered and intrigued Ada.

“It’s not like you to worry about others like that. And I can blame you, actually. You got yourself tangled with Al. That’s on you.”

Ada bit her tongue. This wasn’t about her. “And poor Claire got tangled out of her control. C’mon, Will. I’ve helped you two a lot recently. Throw me a bone here. I deserve something in return.”

Will kept a straight face, thinking it over. Ada glared at him. Finally, the Golgotha creator grinned widely and leaned forward. Ada recognized the child-like delight, and knew he was about to spill the beans.

“Alright, alright! I think he has feelings for her.”

Ada laughed skeptically. “Whatever, Will! Tell me for real.”

She had to admit, she had thought something similar a few days ago when she spied Wesker nearly pinning Claire against his car. But she soon dismissed it. He definitely liked her and was attracted to her…but had feelings for her?! That was a little hard to believe.

“I do! He is obsessed, I’m telling you. The girl would’ve been dead a long time now had it been anyone else. He’s given her more chances than I’ve ever seen. He had the chance to pop her brother in the back without anyone knowing and didn’t do it! I don’t think he knows it himself, or he purposely keeps himself in denial, but...there’s something about her.”

Ada frowned, thinking it over. William had a point. All of Claire’s stunts to try and fight Albert should have ended with her dead a long time ago. And how her brother had been getting suspicious and snooping around, well, it should have ended the same with him by now.

“You think she reminds him of Anezka?” Ada asked.

Was that her name? Ada couldn’t really remember. She wasn’t around back then and had only heard all the different stories when she came here a couple of years ago.

“Nah...I mean they’re both redheads and feisty, but I don’t think that’s it. Anna jilted him, and besides being a little touchy over it, he’s moved on.”

“Is that really what happened?”

William shrugged. “I guess? No one really knows...not even Al.”

Ada wished she had been a fly on that wall when Anezka was still around. So many rumors and gossip about what happened. She practically disappeared, as though she was only a dream. But Albert remembered...resentfully. Ada knew him well enough that it wasn’t just his ego that got hurt. He actually had cared for her, and he hated that he did.

“Well, Albert’s given Claire all these chances to let her live. You think he will let her go when Roth is dealt with, as he has promised her?”

William scowled, leaning back in his chair. “What do you think?”

The double agent had no idea why, but her heart sank a little. As if she was hoping for something she knew better of. And here she thought her line of work had snuffed out all remaining optimism in her life.

“He won’t kill her. I guarantee it,” William boasted. “As obsessed and possessive he already is of her, she’s stuck. There will be conditions he gives her. I’m sure you know what those would be.”

“You sound happy about that,” Ada pointed out.

He shrugged, but the slight upcurve of his lips gave him away. “I like the girl. Sherry adores her. She’s proven to be quite resourceful and clever. She’ll be handy to have around. Besides, if Al actually has feelings for her, I gotta see where it goes! The geneticist in me really hopes he knocks her up.”

It may have sounded like a dark joke, but Ada knew the lunatic genius was dead serious. “I’m really disturbed by how obsessed you are with your best friend’s love and sex life.”

“I’m just looking out for him!”

Ada would never understand Wesker and William’s relationship. One of life’s greatest mysteries. But what was also another mystery still was why Wesker had feelings for Claire.

Was she the next Anezka?

She parked right down the road. It was already nearly dark, but at least the temperature hadn’t dropped too much. Claire stuck to the recently salted sidewalks, hands stuffed in her parka. Her heart pounded in her throat, and her mind raced with what he could want this time.

Wesker called her while she was waiting for Chris to get off work, summoning her to his house for an “important discussion”. She was anxious for two reasons. One, the last time she saw Wesker just a couple nights ago, they had sex. And two, after learning from Jill that Wesker was the one who dealt with Chris, she wasn’t sure what that meant for her or her brother.

She was queasy, butterflies in her stomach, but she wasn’t about to lose her cool. More than anything, she feared her body would betray her once more, a dark excitement coursing through her blood.

Upon reaching Wesker’s house, Claire spotted a vehicle she didn’t recognize in his driveway. She didn’t get too close to it, but it looked like a ruby-colored Porsche Boxster. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not about not being alone with the STARS Captain, but she took a deep breath and rang the doorbell anyway.

After a minute of silence, anticipation eating at her, the door opened. Her heart skipped when those familiar grey-blue eyes and dark smirk greeted her. Her stomach twisted, but Claire couldn’t tell whether it was from disgust or excitement.

“Good evening, Claire,” he purred. He stepped aside to allow her entry. “Please do come in. I don’t want you catching a cold.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped inside. “Thanks.”

He shut the door while she looked around. Odin padded over and sniffed her, docked tail wagging slightly. But she didn’t see anyone who could’ve owned the car outside.

Wesker’s hands brushed up her back. The bad thing was Claire realized she didn’t blench this time. No, this time she shivered in pleasure. She inwardly scolded herself as he took her coat off to hang by the door.

“We have much to discuss, dear heart,” he said, one muscular arm locking around her waist and pulling her deeper inside the house.

That’s when the younger Redfield saw a familiar face come into the living room from the kitchen, carrying a full glass of red wine. She nearly blurted Ada’s name, surprised, but quickly bit her tongue, hiding any reaction. Wesker didn’t know that she and Ada had already met personally. And it needed to stay that way.

“I sure hope you weren’t saving that malbec wine for a special occasion, Albert. I helped myself,” Ada said. When her eyes landed on Claire, she was the perfect actress. There was no recognition, no subtle signs given to Claire. “Is this her?”

“The one and only,” Wesker affirmed.

Ada took a long sip of her wine and sat it down on a coaster on the center table before walking over to them. Wesker stepped away while the double agent looked Claire over, one arm crossed and one hand on her chin as she thought. She walked around Claire and even grabbed her arms and lifted them and spun her around.

“Hmm...Yes, I can definitely work with this.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Claire grumbled. Ada spun her around again and grabbed at her hair. “Hey! What’s the big idea?!”

“Hold still, hun.”

Ada withdrew a tailor tape measurer. She measured Claire’s waist, chest, and height, even her arms and legs. Afterwards, she yanked Claire’s ponytail out and felt through her tresses.

“What are you doing?” Claire snapped.

“Taking measurements,” Ada replied. “Trying to figure out what to do with your hair.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain later,” Wesker stated. His Doberman sat at his side, head cocked curiously as Ada got handsy with her measurements.

“Okay, finished,” Ada announced, rolling up her tape and putting it in her pocket. She retrieved her wine and took another drink. “I’ll have something ready by tomorrow.”

“What ready?” Claire demanded. “What’s going on?”

Wesker’s lips barely curled upward. “Oh, where are my manners? Claire, this is an associate of mine, Ada Wong. She originally was to pick you up at the university. Ada, you know Claire, I’ve told you all about her.”

The Eurasian beauty dipped her head. “Charmed.” Still completely in character, although Claire now saw something subtle in her eyes as she stared at Claire. Perhaps a warning? Or just acknowledgement?

“You too...I guess,” Claire said.

Wesker chuckled, catching their attention. “You do not have to pretend to be strangers on my account, ladies. I know you’re well acquainted.”

Claire ground her jaw, glaring at him. Ada didn’t even flinch, expressionless. Taking another sip of her wine, she shrugged.

“Can’t pull the wool over your eyes, can I Albert?”

“Oh come now, Ada, don’t be that way,” Wesker teased. He obviously sensed something from her that Claire didn’t. He stepped around the agent’s back and, besides her tensing barely, she didn’t look disconcerted. “You knew the risks when you decided to meet Claire behind my back.”

Ada didn’t say anything to that. Wesker’s dark grin grew a bit more.

“I’m quite curious of your intentions. You’re not the jealous type. And you’re not one to have concern for others. So why so curious about Claire? I know this has nothing to do with what Sergei asked of you.”

Jealous type? Claire glanced between them, not sure what kind of undertones she was reading here. She was missing something, that’s for sure. She could only infer that Wesker was gauging Ada for something.

“I was just curious what you saw in her, I guess,” Ada dismissed calmly.

Cool under pressure. Just like the man testing her.

“And did you figure it out?”

Ada’s eyes locked with Claire’s. “I think so.”

Wesker’s soft chuckle told them he didn’t believe her one bit. “You and William should give up trying to find something that isn’t there.”

Ada didn’t have to say anything. Her smile told it all. She was pleased somehow, as though she read deeper into Wesker’s words somehow. Claire wished she would tell her the secret. And also shake this weird feeling in her chest.

“Am I going to get filled in here on why she needed to take my measurements?” Claire grumbled.

“Yes, my apologies,” Wesker admitted, his full attention on her now, and the younger woman regretted saying anything. “Ada, you may go now. I’ll fill Claire in…” He smirked.

Oh god. Did he just…? Her stomach pitched and rolled. She knew what would happen once Ada left them alone. In his house. It was an instant body verses mind battle.

Ada shrugged and walked away. Claire never wanted someone to stay and leave all at once before. But the Eurasian woman plopped down on one of the leather sofas instead, resuming drinking her wine. Odin left his master’s side to plant himself in front of her, as if expecting Ada to give him attention now that she was sitting down. Claire released a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Wesker scowled. “Or…make yourself at home.”

“I will,” Ada answered nonchalantly. “I’m not about to let this delicious wine go to waste.” She made a show of swishing the red liquid around in her glass. The wine complimented her burgundy fingernails.

Claire caught the agent’s honey brown eyes as she looked right at her while sipping from her lipstick-stained glass, a coded message for her. You’re welcome…

Claire swallowed mixed feelings and glared at the STARS Captain. “So what exactly are you making me do this time?”

“Relax dear heart, it’s nothing you’re a stranger to. We’re going to attend a party.”

His stereotypical college girl jab aside, it sounded easy enough. But Claire knew better. Whatever kind of party it was, with Wesker involved, there would be danger, deception, and death at every angle…

Claire stared at the mirror, stunned. She wasn’t one to get dressed up, not this fancy anyway. Her red-brown hair was pulled up into messy curls with a few tresses hanging around her face. She had more make-up on than what she was used to. The jade-colored halter dress complimented her hair, eyes, and heels. She was only in the shoes for less than half an hour and her feet were already cramping. How did women wear these things all day?

The two assistants Ada had helping her with Claire were finally finished and departed from the big, spotless, and up-to-date bathroom. They were in Wesker’s living quarters in NEST. The younger Redfield tried not to think about what happened the last time she was here. Wesker and William awaited them in the very same room where she and Wesker fornicated, only having arrived a bit ago while Claire was still being made over.

Ada looked her over one last time, one final judgment for approval. Claire didn’t say anything. She really wanted out of this bathroom, but at the same time, she wasn’t ready for the next step.

Apparently, the crooked STARS Captain had meticulously planned tonight. Chris and Jill were working graveyard shifts while he was off and Claire had to tell her brother that she might would have to stay the night at William’s house babysitting Sherry if her parents had to work all night. All the chess pieces were in place so far. Bard’s Christmas party would last well into the night, and depending on how it played out, they might be there awhile. She could only hope nothing went wrong and would get to return home tonight.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Claire. There’s no doubt about that,” Ada said finally.

“T-Thanks.” She wasn’t expecting a compliment from the older woman.

She looked in the mirror again, distracted. This was a little too much for her, but she had to blend in with the other guests at the party.

“I won’t be surprised if Albert takes you home with him tonight after the party.”

Claire blushed, taken off guard, a near panic in her chest only broken by blood rushing like electricity through her veins. She turned to the double agent, holding her breath. Ada sounded so sure as she looked Claire over. As if she knew something the younger Redfield didn’t. Surely, Ada didn’t know…

“I know what happened between you two,” Ada admitted, reading her mind.

“He,” Claire started to blame her captor, but stopped. Could she honestly say it knowing she had decided to do it? Wesker may have manipulated her into wanting to, but she still chose it all her own, no matter how much she wanted to deny it.

“He what?”

She shook her head. “…Nothing.”

“I told you he always gets what he wants, didn’t I? He’ll make you want it, too. That tongue of his is far more deadly than any weapon he has on him. You have no idea how way in over your head you are, Claire.”

The college student glared at the Eurasian beauty. Was she serious right now?! “You’ve got it all wrong! It was just a one time fling. And as far as the rest of my situation goes, I think I’ve been doing pretty damn good considering!”

Ada sighed. “You’re clever, strong, and resourceful. You’ve handled yourself impressively this past week, but that’s partly why Albert’s so infatuated with you.”

Claire frowned, not sure what to say to that.

“Albert’s hardwired to manipulate and take advantage of anyone and anything he can. You give him an inch and he’ll hook his claws so deep in you, there’s no escape. You gave him way more than that.”

“So what? I’m trapped forever now? Is that what you’re saying?” Dread seized in her chest.

Ada looked to the door, as if suddenly paranoid Wesker and William could be listening in and slightly lowered her voice. “I don’t know. Look…yes, he’s using you to take care of Roth in exchange for your freedom, but William and I suspect that Albert may have developed…”

“What?” Claire urged when the agent trailed off.

Ada quickly shook her head, frowning. “Never mind. Just…keep your head. Do what you must to get Roth where Albert wants him for you and your brother’s freedom. Albert’s got a soft spot for you, he’ll likely keep his word if you’re good. As far as this affair is concerned, I cannot help you. That’s your business. My only advice is that you be careful.”

Soft spot? Where the hell was she getting that? There was nothing soft about that man. Then again, she and William, two people who knew Wesker best, kept saying that, so it had to be true to some degree.

Claire wanted to tell Ada that there wasn’t an “affair”. It was a one time slip up, a mistake, it wouldn’t happen ever again. But she couldn’t even believe herself, so there was no way she would convince the double agent.

“Ok…thank you, Ada. For everything.”

Ada exhaled through a small frown. “Don’t thank me just yet…” She turned, walking for the door and motioning for the younger Redfield to follow her. “C’mon, we have a party to get to.”

Claire inhaled deeply, gathering herself, and followed her out of the bathroom. They came into the den, where Wesker and William sat across from each other on the leather sofas talking. They were dressed in posh black suits. Claire berated herself for goggling Wesker. The bastard was so damn attractive anyway, but that suit was hot! She couldn’t believe how much it actually affected her seeing him in that outfit.

The men noticed them and stood up, but their eyes immediately went to Claire. She suddently felt exposed. William’s jaw dropped and he ogled too. The smirk that slowly grew on Wesker’s face as he took off his sunglasses to look Claire over was wicked. More so, it was hungry. He popped William’s mouth shut without taking his eyes off of Claire and closed in like a predator about to sink its teeth into its coveted prey. His eyes entrapped her, an instant, breath-taking spell, and then she was hungry too, felt it spreading through every inch of her body like wildfire.

Ada was right…Wesker would be taking her home with him tonight. And nothing was going to stop him.

#resident evil #resident evil fanfic #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil 2 #Albert Wesker #Claire Redfield #clairexwesker #claire x wesker #William Birkin #Chris Redfield #chris x jill #Jill Valentine #Ada Wong #fanfiction #fanfic #My writing #archive of our own

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wonjaekook · 4 years

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100 Ways We Said “I Love You” (The First 26)

100 follower special w/Jaemin for @insomni-writing !

A/N: I hit 100 followers a while ago but Somni came up with a great idea for me to celebrate! The numbers are NOT in chronological order, so I hope it’s not too confusing. There’s potential for more parts of this in the future ^^

Description: You reminisce on some of your most memorable moments with Jaemin.

Word Count: 13.5k

Genre: fluff!! there’s a touch of angst, but it’s mostly fluff

Warnings: there might be a handful of swears?, alcohol at some point

One.

Na Jaemin has one mouth and he certainly uses it as much as he can. The only thing you know about Na Jaemin is he’s loud and you’re not sure you like him. On the contrary, everyone else in your class seems to be obsessed with him, as can be easily observed by the hoards of confessions he’s getting today. You would think that behavior would go away when you got to college, but apparently not.

Today is White Day and you are not in the holiday spirit.

Every break that your class has, the room explodes with noise as girls who, one after the other, are giving him so many chocolates that he barely has room to write on his desk anymore. Jaemin’s responses of, “you’re cute, but…” and “I’m sorry, you’re lovely, but…” to every girl that approaches him fill the space of the classroom while you’re at your own desk trying to study. Unluckily for you, Jaemin sits right in front of you and your best friend, Hyunjin, sits on the opposite side of the room. She shoots you a pitying look when she sees the irritated look on your face and you shrug. It only takes one more minute listening to the chattering of the girls gathered around the desk in front of you before you’re grabbing your textbook and walking out of the classroom.

In the hallway, things are nice and peaceful for a little while when you plop down on the floor and open your textbook. The sounds in the classroom are muffled by the door and walls and you find yourself focusing much better. That is, until a boy from the classroom next door stops in front of you. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m studying.” You answer shortly. You know this boy well - mostly because he won’t leave you alone. Not in the cute way, no. In the mean way.

“Don’t wanna be in the classroom because everyone is getting together and you’re alone?” He looms over you, his arms crossed over his chest.

You purse your lips together at that. “I don’t want a boyfriend, Jiwoon.”

“It’s not like you could get one anyways, even if you-”

“Hey, cut it out.” Jiwoon is interrupted when, to your surprise, another voice cuts into the conversation. In your distraction, you hadn’t noticed that Na Jaemin had left the classroom and is now standing a few feet away, giving Jiwoon a look. Jaemin starts to speak again before either of you can say anything. “If you like her, just say so. There’s no need to be an ass.”

Jiwoon turns three shades of red before he finally stutters out, “I don’t like her!” and shuffles quickly away to his own classroom.

“He doesn’t like me. He’s always just been a jerk for no reason,” you say, feeling the need to clarify to Jaemin. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before he looks at you.

“He’s just doing that thing guys do. The one where they’re mean to the girl they like because they think that’s how they’ll get your attention.”

Your lips part in an expression of surprise before you let out a little, “Oh.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.” He breaks into a cocky smirk and your expression changes into one of irritation. “You owe me one, now.”

“Owe you what? I don’t owe you anything!” You try to insist, but he’s already walking further down the hall and it’s not long before he’s out of sight.

Two.

Na Jaemin won’t stop staring at you.

Since Jaemin technically helped you out in the hall on White Day, you supposed you owed him something. He called in his favor about three weeks ago, when he practically begged you to tutor him in physics. Usually, tutoring meant studying with him and helping him whenever he had trouble, but, today, he’s just been staring at you for most of the time.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say, trying to shield your face from his view with your hand. He hums in response to your request, looking back at his textbook. A moment later, you can feel him staring at you again, so you sigh heavily and turn to him fully, your head resting on your arm.

“Jaemin, if you have an issue with me, please just say it.” This time, he doesn’t even pretend to look away from you, keeping intense eye contact instead. The eye contact lasts long enough that you feel slightly uncomfortable, but you refuse to back down. He blinks a slow, long blink that, for some reason, has you feeling shy and makes your cheeks warm up. His long eyelashes cast shadows on his cheekbones in the somewhat dim light of the library and his dark brown hair sweeps quite nicely over his forehead, parted just off from the middle. You refused to let yourself acknowledge it before, but Na Jaemin is, in fact, quite attractive. Finally, you feel like you have to say something again. “Why are you looking at me like I’ve grown a third eye?” You mutter, shying under his gaze. If he’s not searching your soul, it certainly feels like it.

“I’m not…” His words are somewhat mumbled as he continues to stare you in the eyes, “but you do have two eyes and they are very pretty.”

When those words leave his lips, your jaw practically drops and you can feel your face changing from warm to blazing hot. “I, you, ah-” you stutter, trying to find something to say, but grasping nothing.

His lips spread into a wide, bright smile that shows all of his teeth. “Do you want to get coffee with me after this?”

“Ask me again after you’ve finished the physics homework,” you mumble, practically burying your face in your own book, “and only if you don’t make me try that hell concoction you call a drink.”

You suppose that, somewhere along the last few weeks, you might have fallen for him.

Three.

Na Jaemin considers himself a photographer and, even you, a cynic among cynics, can’t help but agree that he does take some nice pictures sometimes. Then again, sometimes he chooses to take the absolute ugliest pictures of you, saving them as his phone background and not letting you change it. But, since he considers himself a photographer, he demands you take pictures with him anyways. There are a few in particular that come to mind.

“Wait, there!” Jaemin says, hand clasped in yours. You would call this your official first date, though you had been alone with him many times before. You’re still reeling from when he had actually told you he likes you about ten minutes ago, but he quickly guided you along, saying something about ‘golden hour.’ Now, Jaemin is pulling you towards a glass balcony that’s open to the spring air. The glass bends the orange-red light of the setting sun and almost makes the two of you glow just standing there. There’s a few other people milling about on this floor of the building, so Jaemin quickly taps one of them on the shoulder, giving them that charming smile of his and asking if they can take your picture on the balcony.

Just as the person reaches three in the countdown, he leans down, pressing his lips to your cheek. Your own expression changes just in time for the camera to catch it. “Jaemin!” You say, hitting him lightly on the arm. “You can’t just do those things out of nowhere!”

“You liked it though, didn’t you?” He collects his phone from the stranger and thanks them before turning around, catching the embarrassment clear on your face. He taps on the photo, showing you the picture. Both of you are bathed in the light of the setting sun, glowing golden halos of light around your heads, your surprised expression clear on your face, and his eyes closed as he kisses your cheek. “See? So cute.”

You’ve been with Jaemin for just a tad longer than three years now and the sunset pictures he makes you take with him every year, each with a different surprise, have become your favorites.

Four.

Na Jaemin considers himself to be quite the romantic. Most of the time, you would agree. He’s a rose petals in the bathtub, candles at dinner, slow jazz in the background kind of guy. You try not to let his efforts go unnoticed, as any loving girlfriend would, though you can’t say you’re nearly as smooth about romantic things as he is. However, for all his sensibilities, sometimes he has strange timing.

On the train, enroute to Busan, where you plan to spend the weekend with him, he has your hand firmly in his. Whenever you try to let go of it, he squeezes your hand tighter, so you accepted his grip a while ago. A little while ago, he had offered you an airpod, so you’re casually listening to his music and leaning against his shoulder as the train continues on its track. Idly, you thumb at the rings he’s wearing. One, two, on this hand and… another two on the other hand. Four rings in total. “Jaemin,” you say, breaking the easy silence between the two of you, “where did you get your rings?”

“Hm?” He focuses on you and processes your question a second later. “Oh. This one, I got from my mom, this one is from Jeno, this one is for UNICEF, and this one is just cool looking.” One by one, he taps the rings, still holding onto your hand. “Why? Do you want me to take them off? Is it uncomfortable?”

You shake your head. “No, you’re good. I was just wondering.”

“Do you like them?” Not knowing where he’s going, but knowing he’s scheming something by the tone of his voice, you carefully nod. “Well, I’ll get you a ring one day. It’ll be a lot fancier than these, though.”

It takes you a moment to really understand what he’s implying, but then your cheeks are heating up - not an unusual occurrence with Jaemin - and you’re burying your face in his shoulder. “Jaemin,” you whine, your voice muffled by his shirt, “you can’t just say things like that.”

“I can if it’s true.” A weak punch on the arm is all you respond with, his hand still tightly squeezed in yours.

Five.

Na Jaemin is the person you’ve spent more time with than anyone else for the last few weeks. And he still hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend.

Not that you’re expecting him to, or that he has to be the one who asks you. If you were certain that’s what he wants, you would ask him, but… you’re not sure. You don’t think he’s been seeing anyone else, but, by definition, you’re not exclusive. He could be seeing any number of the girls who confessed to him or are constantly chasing after him. You don’t think he actually is, but you’re scared. What if he doesn’t like you as much as you like him?

You’ve gone on four different “official” dates with him and tonight is date number five. When he shows up in front of your apartment, all smiles, you almost immediately forget all of your worries about your situation, content with just taking his hand when he offers it to you. The little hole-in-the-wall restaurant he takes you to is perfect, a pretty, small place with low lighting that smells vaguely of roses, and everything about the date is perfect. Until the waiter comes back for the second time.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” He says, directing his attention to Jaemin and then, a beat later, to you. “Or maybe for the girlfriend?”

Before your expression can even shift into one of awkwardness, Jaemin is smiling gently and shaking his head. “That’s okay, but thank you.” Confusion is clearly on your face when the waiter says he’ll be right back with your check and walks away, prompting Jaemin to look back at you. He quirks an eyebrow at you. “What? Did you want something else?”

“I… You…” You look back and forth between Jaemin and the direction the waiter disappeared off in. How are you supposed to explain…?

“Oh, you don’t like being called my girlfriend?” Jaemin tilts his head, the picture of obliviousness. At the back of your mind, some part of you knows he’s just messing with you, but you ignore that side of your brain.

“No, I like it!” Your mouth moves faster than your brain does for once and, almost instantly, you feel like your cheeks are on fire. Pursing your lips, you look away from him, practically burning up in your seat.

“Aha! That’s what I was waiting for!” As he says that, the waiter returns with your check, preventing him from explaining himself. He takes the check and gets up, practically waltzing to your side of the table and reaching for your hand, which you take without much question. Impatiently, you shift from foot to foot while he pays up front until, finally, the two of you leave the restaurant.

“Na Jaemin,” you say sternly, stopping him from continuing to walk, “you had better explain yourself!”

Pretending to be innocent again, he smiles. “Explain? That you want to be my girlfriend?”

Instead of shying away this time, you decide that you’re going to double down. You’re about two seconds away from ditching him if he doesn’t start making sense. “I do, but-!”

“Great! Then, Y/N, do you want to be my girlfriend? Be honest, now.” Jaemin’s tone is teasing, which it feels like is his near constant state anyways, but now you’re blushing.

Part of you wants to be difficult with him just for the sake of it, but the softer, more resigned side of you wins out. Your exasperation fades and you sigh softly. “Yes. I want to be your girlfriend.”

“Now, that wasn’t hard, was it?” Indignant again, you don’t respond, eyes fixed on the ground. “That makes me your boyfriend, then. I don’t know about you, but that makes me really happy.” At that, you look up at him. Though there’s a hint of humor on his face, the smile that reaches all the way to his eyes is real. Knowing that you’re too embarrassed to respond but that you feel the exact same way, he simply squeezes your hand and pulls you along.

Six.

Na Jaemin always says good morning to you. From early on in your relationship, he always made sure to text you when he wasn’t staying over. Though you prefer to wake up to an arm slung over you and his messy morning hair, a text from him is almost as nice. Whenever you’re away from each other for too long, he calls you incessantly and, when you hadn’t minded the silence before, his slightly staticy voice over the phone fills the empty space in your life nicely. Even just hearing the telltale buzz before your phone lights up with his contact name - he never lets you change it away from “My Handsome Jaemin” with a sun emoji next to it, which he set on your phone himself - you always feel a small prick of joy.

Well, most of the time. The buzz of your phone going off is enough to wake you up today and not even the cute “good morning, love” accompanied with all varieties of heart emojis from Jaemin is enough to forgive him for waking you up at this godforsaken hour.

Y/N: Na Jaemin. It is 6 in the morning.

My Handsome Jaemin: it’s a new day!

Y/N: Why are you texting me at this time.

JM: i’m volunteering soon and i’m not allowed to be on my phone until after it’s over, but i didn’t want to miss saying good morning :( sorry for waking you up

Y/N: oh my god jaems i’m so sorry

Y/N: ily, have a good time at your volunteering

Y/N: and good morning to you too ♡

JM: ♡♡♡

JM: go back to sleep, i’ll be done by the time you’re awake ♡

You suppose you can forgive him.

Seven.

Na Jaemin has somehow wormed himself into nearly every aspect of your life. Before him, you didn’t think it was possible to be so close to a single person. Now, he’s in your head at least once a day, all seven days of the week. Rent free, spending time in your thoughts. You wouldn’t charge him for taking up that space even if you could.

Eight.

Na Jaemin didn’t wait nearly as long to ask if he could kiss you as he waited to ask you to be his girlfriend. This time, there’s no games, no teasing, just him at two o’clock in the morning in front of your dorm.

The two of you were lucky enough that the weather cooperated with your plans for a picnic by the Han River and, soon enough, time got lost. To get him to go back to campus, you have to pull him along by his hand, his reluctance clear in the way he tugs back to try to get you to stay. Much too quickly, you return, standing on the pavement outside of your dorm building with your hand in his, neither of you really making a move to go inside anymore. Hesitantly, you smile at him. “I had a nice time today. As usual.”

“As usual?” He tilts his head, sending you a smile of his own in return. The way the music of his low voice floats to your ears in the still, peaceful night prevents you from letting go of his hands.

“Believe it or not, I enjoy spending time with my boyfriend.” He grins extra brightly at that, pulling you into his arms for a tight hug so you can’t see what is practically sunlight radiating from his face in the dead of night. If he had pulled you in like that a few weeks ago, you would have been stiff and awkward but, now, you quickly melt into his embrace, your own arms wrapping around him. Reluctantly, both of you pull away and look at each other again. The air still has that lovely, magical feeling to it that makes you forget that time exists, but somewhere in the back of your head, you know that it’s about two in the morning and you should both go to sleep. Somehow, you also feel as though there are unsaid words hanging in the air between you and you can’t leave until one of you says them.

“Can I kiss you?”

It clicks in your head that those were the words you had been waiting for. Naturally, you’re smiling again, a smaller smile this time in preparation for what you want to happen, hiding how truly ecstatic you feel. “I really want you to.”

That first kiss lasts for eight seconds. It’s eight seconds of feeling more right and content and happy than you ever have in your life so, when he pulls away, you pull him back to you a quick heartbeat later, your arms rising up to sling over his neck. You don’t think you’ll ever forget the way he laughs into that second kiss and returns it.

Nine.

Na Jaemin asked you to move in with him. It’s been a bit over two years now, so it was only the next natural step to both of you. One sunny Saturday afternoon, he told you about this wonderful - and affordable - apartment a short walk from campus and proposed living together. You accepted. It’s not like the two of you hadn’t talked about it before. It’s very familiar ground and you were excited that your discussions were finally producing some fruit. When you went to check out the apartment with Jaemin, you were more than pleased with how good his taste was. It’s a corner apartment, meaning lots of natural light and a bit more space than usual.

Signing the lease was easy enough. Moving in was not, especially with Jaemin getting distracted every few minutes by one thing or another. Every so often, he calls to you from another room, his voice reaching you easily in the relatively small space. “Y/N!”

Tilting your head back to look at him as he emerges from the other room, you give him a look, not backing away from the box you were unpacking things from. “What is it now, Jaemin?”

“Do you know how many windows this apartment has?”

The question is odd enough, so you shrug in response. “No, but I have a feeling you do.”

“Nine! We have nine windows.” He’s far more excited about the topic than you are and your confusion is clear on your face.

“What’s special about having nine windows?”

“I don’t know. But we have nine windows and I just think there’s something great about that number.” The incidental sweetness of his statement has your mood instantly lifting, your face brightening and relaxing when he explains. He circles you, latching onto you and hugging you from behind. His broad chest against your back is a welcome distraction this time, so you lean back into him slightly.

“You’re very strange, but I think you’re right, Jaemin.”

Ten.

Na Jaemin makes every experience an adventure. Somehow, today he had talked you into climbing a tree and, while he had descended flawlessly, you’re stuck. After all, getting up into the tree is always harder and less scary than getting down.

“Jaemin! I can’t get down…” You’re embarrassed to admit it, but you need help.

“Just jump! I’ll catch you!” You blanch at that.

“No way! I know you’ve been working out recently, but I am not jumping from here!” Truth be told, you’re only about ten feet off of the ground, but it’s ten whole feet of terror that makes the ground feel much farther away than it actually is.

“Do you want to come down or not? Just jump!” Even with Jaemin’s goading, him standing below you is not looking any more safe. What if you break your leg? Or your arm? Or your spine?

“You know what, I think I’m okay up here! I’ll live among the squirrels from now on.” You shift on the branch and it bends slightly under your weight, causing you to let out a brief shriek of fear and cling tighter to the branch. When you look down again, Jaemin’s face is far more concerned and serious than it was before.

“Y/N, you don’t have to be afraid. I promise I’ll catch you. I have one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten whole fingers attached to one, two arms to catch you with! You’ll be fine. Trust me.” He opens his arms wide, staring up at you and smiling gently. It’s those words that make your heart open and, suddenly, you feel like everything will be okay. Because you trust him.

“Okay,” you say, mostly to yourself, “okay. Are you ready?”

He nods firmly. “Whenever you are.”

As promised, he catches you in his arms and prevents you from hitting the ground and breaking your arm, leg, spine, or anything in between. After he puts you down, he leans forward, pecking you on the lips before he grins. “See? I told you that you can trust me.”

Eleven.

Na Jaemin is very stubborn sometimes. That being said, so are you.

Someway, somehow the two of you had an argument about washing the dishes. At this point, after a bit more than ten hours of not talking to each other, you’ve forgotten who started the argument. A part of you still wants to insist you’re right, but the deafening silence of your boyfriend in the other room while you’re curled on your shared bed dampens your pride. You glance at your phone, which hadn’t lit up with a notification from him for most of the day now when he would ordinarily be sending you texts filled with heart emojis and sweet words. Sighing, you set your phone upside down, trying not to look at it. A minute later, it buzzes and you quickly reach for it, the screen lighting up in your eyes, only to see that it was just a message from a friend. With that, you throw your phone back on the bed and stand up. Enough is enough. You’re going to stop being stubborn and apologize.

Except, when you open the bedroom door, Jaemin is right in front of it, his hand lifted like he was pre-knock. He lowers his hand slowly, his lips pulling up into an awkward half smile. “What, can’t go eleven hours without seeing me?” The joke falls flat, but you give him a little exhale of laughter anyways.

“No,” you say, your voice low, feeling strange in the long, silent space of the hours between you, “I wanted to apologize.”

“That’s funny, I wanted to do the same thing.” If you took yourself out of the situation, you might have found it funny, but right now all you want is the comfortable feeling between you and Jaemin back. Neither of you speak for a moment, but then your words are coming out at the same, overlapping each other in a strange sort of apologetic verbal embrace.

“I’m sorry I-”

“Y/N, I’m sorry-”

Both of you stop at the same time as well. You stare at each other before another smile, a real one this time, lights up his face again. You return the look.

“It was a stupid argument. I accept your apology.” When he usually initiates, you make the move first this time, opening your arms in a gesture that invites him to hug you. He does, his arms wrapping around you and pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Without words, he tells you that he feels the same.

Twelve.

Na Jaemin always keeps his promises.

Your advanced literature class always gets out at the same time, exactly twelve. Every Wednesday, your lovely boyfriend makes a point to meet you outside of your classroom at exactly noon to meet you for lunch. Early on, he had promised you he would meet you at the same time every week, saying, if you remember correctly, he “wouldn’t miss it for the world.” A bit dramatic for a regular lunch date, but you have always appreciated the sentiment. It’s nice to have a schedule and to be able to see him regularly.

Except, now, it’s 12:15 and your professor is still talking. He keeps droning on about his favorite part of the book your class is currently reading, which also happens to be his favorite book, and, even with you and your classmates shifting awkwardly in your seats and very obviously looking at the clock on the wall next to his desk, he keeps going. Normally, you’d be sitting in the dining hall or nearby cafe with Jaemin right now, but instead you’re just blankly staring at your professor, his words drowned out by your antsiness. Finally, ten minutes later, he returns to his desk and dismisses your class. Everyone instantly shoves their things in their backpacks and, one by one, you all quickly exit. Through the crowd of your classmates, you try to see if Jaemin is at your meeting spot. When you run up to him, apologies spilling from your lips, he presses a finger to your lips.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind waiting for you.” The way his lips curl up into a little smile messes with your heart, causing you to blink rapidly at him.

“You’re not upset…?” You manage to get out.

“I promised you, didn’t it? I know it’s not your fault, anyways.” He reaches for your hand, taking it in his. “Plus, you’re worth waiting for.” He tugs you along, heading towards the cafe you had agreed you would go to today. Even when you’re awestruck by him and he’s pulling you along, he’s still so gentle in both touch and tone of voice. Then, he opens his mouth again and you snap out of it to laugh at him. “Though I wouldn’t mind if you bought my coffee today.”

Thirteen.

Na Jaemin has always been popular. That was one of your first observations about him and it continued to be true, even a few months into your relationship.

This year, his birthday, August 13th, falls on a Saturday. When he said he was throwing a party, you were expecting it to be on the day of his birthday, a loud, wild occasion that would inevitably get the cops called on it. To your surprise, he plans it for the day before, Friday, and you can actually count and keep track of everyone there. You expected to see him only once during the night before he mingled among everyone else, but as he gets more tipsy and edges on drunk, you find that he’s not leaving your side, his arms mostly staying wrapped around your stomach, keeping you pressed to his chest, and his chin rests on your shoulder, his flush cheek pressed to yours. Friday changes to Saturday and everyone sings to him. Cake and more drinks are passed around, the air pleasantly filled with singing and talking and the music that always plays in the background. At around two, you attempt to peel his arms off of you so you can go home, but he just holds onto you tighter, whining about how you promised you would stay the night. Even though you never said anything like that to him and you’re more than embarrassed that he just said that in front of his friends, you just sink back down against him, doing your best to hide your warm face.

It’s only a short while before sunrise that the last of his friends finally leave. You barely manage to convince him to brush his teeth and wash his face before he’s dragging you into his bed with him, his grip around you unrelenting. This certainly isn’t the first time that you’ve slept in his bed with him, but you’re still a bit shy about it. Luckily enough, your shyness is overcome by your exhaustion and you quickly drift off.

You barely manage to convince him to let you get out of bed after the two of you finally wake up in the early afternoon and it’s another miracle that you get him to let you go home to change and get your gift for him. While he was initially planning his celebration, he made you promise to leave your Saturday open for him. You agreed, adding that you would only do it if he let you pay for dinner.

After you return and eat with him, giving him the gift of the new camera lens he had been wanting for months, you stop him before he can drag you back to his bed to watch a movie and cuddle.

“One more thing.” Shyly, you reach into the bag you had brought back from your apartment, pulling out a small chocolate cake, barely larger than your hand, and a single long candle. “I know you just had cake yesterday, but I got this from the bakery next to campus that you like and...”

The happy look on his face lights up your whole world and has you trailing off. With just one look, you can tell exactly how he’s feeling and that everything is okay, that you don’t need to make excuses. You can’t hold eye contact with him for long, your eyes flitting down to investigate the table instead of looking at him. You can feel your face warming and butterflies tickling the inside of your stomach with their wings. It’s an intense but welcome feeling. Quickly, you busy yourself with getting out the small lighter you brought - you came prepared - and sticking the candle in the cake, lighting it. A step forward and the light in the room is off, a step backwards and you’re back in your chair. The room is shrouded in darkness save for the tiny flickering fire casting a yellow-orange glow on your faces.

“Happy birthday, Jaemin.” Your voice barely makes a sound in the small room, but it adds to the warm atmosphere nonetheless. For a moment, he just stares at the candle, deep in thought. You can feel the seconds ticking by slowly, drops of wax sliding down the length of the candle, threatening to fall onto the cake but stopping just short. Then, he looks up at you.

“I’ll only blow it out if you do it with me.” Another one of his strange requests. He must know that you want to refuse him, but the rapidly melting wax of the candle prevents you from giving him the reasons why you shouldn’t do what he asked. He also gives you no time to argue as he leans forward, counting down. “One,” a slow blink, “two,” a small smile when you bend forward slightly as well, “three.” Both of you blow gently, the small flame flickering out.

You rise from your chair again, flicking on the lights. He’s giving you a strange look again, but one that you can still tell is happy. “I feel like I just ruined your birthday wish by doing that,” you laugh quietly, sitting back down.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his palm. “You can’t ruin my wish if you are my wish.” The butterflies and warmth return, not that they ever really left, but you keep looking at him this time. Before you can muster up some sort of response, he adds on another comment much more softly. “And I’m not afraid of losing you by saying that.”

Fourteen.

Na Jaemin always manages to take advantage of every good opportunity that he’s given, even if that means taking you along with him.

“My pretty Y/N,” he practically purrs in your ear, his arms encircling your waist as he hugs you from behind while you're doing work for class, “will you help me with something?”

You can already tell from his tone of voice that he means to cause trouble. You just don’t know if it’s the good kind or the bad kind yet. Laying your pencil down, you turn your head slightly and smile at him. “What are you trying to charm me into doing now?”

“Have you been outside recently?”

“Of course I have. Why…?”

“Take a break and take pictures with the flowers with me.” He’s absentmindedly playing with the hem of your shirt as he speaks. You know he’s persistent and won’t leave you alone unless you go with him. It also wouldn’t hurt to take a couple of pretty pictures. You should really be used to these impromptu photoshoots by now, anyway.

“Only if it doesn’t take that long…” He hears the hesitance in your voice and takes it as a yes, springing up to race to the other side of the room.

“Great! They’re cherry trees, so the flowers won’t last much longer than a few days, and all fourteen of them are in bloom right now!” He returns to you with his camera hanging around his neck.

“You counted the trees outside?” You follow him to the door of your apartment, slipping on some shoes at the same time he does.

“I had to do an ecological survey for my biology class earlier this semester. Just happened to remember.” It’s not a farfetched idea. It’s also very characteristic of him to remember that. As soon as you’re outside, stepping into the sunlight and squinting from how bright it is, you look back at him. He’s making a face, a sort of smirk, and you sigh.

“You’re about to say something embarrassing, I can tell.”

“I’m not! Look,” he says, turning you by the shoulders to face the blooming trees lining the sidewalk, “do you see them?”

Your eyes adjusted a moment before, so you nod slowly. “Mhm…”

“You’re prettier than any of them.” That’s all he says before he pecks on you on the cheek, taking you by the hand and guiding you farther down the row of trees. Even now, you can’t help but blush furiously at his comments. You would ask why he always says things like that, but you know the answer by now. It takes him only a moment to find the ideal tree, where he turns back to you again, observing your face. He grins. “You look even prettier when you’re flustered like that.”

Fifteen.

Na Jaemin, despite how he seems to brush things off most of the time, is more sensitive than he lets on.

One night, Jaemin invited you to go to a party with him. You had been dating him for more than a year, so it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to show up to every other social gathering with the other on their arm. The event is a typical frat party - loud and full of both alcohol and hormones. Jaemin had been invited by his older friend Lucas and you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to go. Except, at the time you agreed, you didn’t have the headache that slowly developed over the day. Still, you go. The music is too loud, the smell of alcohol makes you nauseous, and everyone is so sweaty. One girl even has the audacity to try to drag Jaemin away for a dance. He hadn’t had the same aversions to the environment that you did but, even in his inebriated state after the multiple drinks his friends had put in his hands and he had downed, he has enough sense to push her gently away from him, refusing her advances. She leaves, moping over his rejection, and you let him pull you in to dance clumsily before everything about the party becomes too much. His attempt at getting you to enjoy yourself isn’t missed - you know he’s trying his best - but you simply don’t feel well. With a reluctant smile, you tug him over to a group of his friends that you recognize.

“I’m going to go home. Stay here and have fun with your friends, okay?” He bobs his head up and down in a drunken nod of agreement before leaning down to sloppily kiss you. Normally, you love his kisses in any form, but the smell of alcohol on his breath and the taste of it on his lips has you pulling away from the kiss quickly, patting his cheek as you try to not let your headache break your patience with your intoxicated boyfriend.

Getting out of the party is a relief, the short walk back to your apartment is a relief, and finally lying down in your bed with pajamas and a clean face and mouth is definitely a relief. Sleep comes upon you quickly enough that you forget to text your very sweet and very drunk boyfriend to tell you when he gets home.

Waking up refreshed and headache-free twelve hours later is certainly a feeling you could relish in for a long time. Except, when you check your phone and see the fifteen missed calls and twenty texts from Jaemin on your phone, your relaxation instantly fades. Every message shows his building worry, sent about an hour before you woke up, and vague enough that you don’t know why he’s panicking. As soon as you read the last message, you call him back. He picks up nearly instantly, cutting you off as you try to greet him.

“Jaem-”

“Y/N! You finally answered!” Though you’ve known him for a substantial amount of time by now, you’ve never heard him sound this distressed. It makes panic slowly bubble up in you in return. Before you can try to get any answers, he continues. “I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t be mad at me. Please don’t break up with me.”

If you didn’t know him well by now, you would have jumped to the worst possible conclusion. Instead, you try to calm yourself and him down. “Jaemin, what are you talking about? Why would I be mad at you?”

“For letting you go home alone. For staying at the party. Because that girl tried to dance with me. Because I’m a terrible boyfriend. Because-”

With each thing he lists, you get more confused. One thing you’re certain of, however, is that Jaemin is the opposite of a bad boyfriend. You cut him off. “Jaemin, stop. I went home because I wasn’t feeling well and I told you to stay because I wanted you to have fun. You sent that girl away, so why does she even matter? You’re not a terrible boyfriend. I have no clue where you got that idea from.”

There’s a couple seconds of just his shaky breathing over the phone before he croaks out a quiet, “What?”

“I’m not mad at you. And I wasn’t ignoring you either. I was asleep until ten minutes ago.” You’re not used to hearing Jaemin like this, but that doesn’t mean the right words are hard to find. In fact, they’re just on the tip of your tongue, tumbling out seamlessly. “I love you a lot, Jaemin. I wouldn’t play those sorts of passive aggressive games with you. I also have no intentions of breaking up with you.”

“I love you, too.” His voice seems more even, like he’s taken control of himself again. You know he’s had some bad experiences with ex-girlfriends, so you’re certain these worries came from them. You’ll have to talk to him about that sometime. “Can you… can you come over?”

The vulnerability in his voice makes your heart bleed for him, this boy you’ve unwittingly given your heart to over the last year. When he’s only been perfect to you, you want to return the favor. “Of course,” you say, your voice soothing even over the staticy phone line, “I’ll be over soon. I’ll be there whenever you need me.”

Sixteen.

Na Jaemin is unbothered by the fact that anyone could be watching when he does embarrassing things. Over time, his behavior has become so normal to you that you don’t even notice sometimes.

You had been out of the apartment all day, working on a group project in the university library, and it’s just before eight at night when you’re returning. You shoot your lovely boyfriend a text asking him to open the door for you because you have your hands full with the takeout you brought back for the both of you and, unsurprisingly, you’re greeted by a hug and smattering of kisses pressed to your face.

“You were gone so long, I missed you,” he whines, hugging you in a way that has you dangerously close to dropping either the bag of takeout you have in one hand or the bag of supplies for your project that you have in the other.

“Jaems, you’re not a puppy, you can stand to not see me for a few hours.” Though the words sound reprimanding, there’s an undeniable sweet fondness in your voice that tells him that you missed him too. He abandons your cheeks and forehead and nose to kiss you directly on the lips a moment later, the feeling of his mouth against yours showing that he’s smiling more than he’s kissing. For a moment, you forget about the bags in your hands and focus on the warmth of his body against yours, melting against him with a contented hum. You would have been happy to lose yourself in the moment entirely, were it not for the comment being directed at you from just down the hall.

“Gross.” Somehow, both of you had missed the fact that your sixteen-year-old neighbor had opened the door of the apartment next to yours and is grimacing at your public display of affection. It’s not the first time he’s seen the two of you doing lovey-dovey things in front of your apartment instead of inside of it, but what he usually witnessed consisted of short pecks on the cheek and hand holding, not full blown romantic kisses. You might have laughed at the scene if you weren’t thoroughly embarrassed, taking a step back from Jaemin. As your boyfriend takes the bag of food out of your hand, giving you a sly smile, your neighbor walks by, muttering at you two as he does so. “You live right there and you have to do that in the hall?”

“Don’t worry, kid, your time will come!” Jaemin responds cheerily, making you sigh softly and jokingly hit him on the arm.

“He’s right, you know!” You say, shouldering past your boyfriend to get into the apartment. “We could have moved about two steps and not subjected him to that.”

“You know my love can’t wait!” After the door shuts behind him and he sets down the food, he wrangles you into the same position you were in outside, pressing another kiss to your pouting lips. “And I know you like it.”

Seventeen.

Na Jaemin always chooses the worst movies. Okay, not really. He usually chooses really good movies. They’re only the worst because he has seen you cry at an inordinate number of them. Whether it be from fear at the various jumpscares in his favorite genre of horror or a movie about heartbreak in any of its forms, your tear ducts never cooperate with you when you tell them that you’re not going to cry.

Tonight is no different. Somehow, the two of you had settled on watching The Hunger Games and you know for sure that you’re going to cry at this one. And cry you do. During one particularly sad part, you’re trying your best to cry softly, but Jaemin can feel you shaking against his side, where you’re cuddled up against him. All he has to do is turn his head slightly to see the tears sliding down your face. He frowns, reaching out to rub at the tear tracks on your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Are you still crying? That scene has been over for like five minutes now.”

You shake your head, trying to stop the crying. “I can’t help it, it’s just so sad.”

He’s stopped watching the movie now, too busy staring into your tear-filled eyes. “Do you only cry when you’re watching movies? I swear I’ve seen you cry at like seventeen different movies but never about any of your own problems.”

To you, hearing him say that is relatively expected. You’ve been dating him for just under three quarters of a year now. “Unsurprising,” you sniffle, resting at the urge to reach up and rub at your own eyes because you enjoy the feeling of his warm hands on your face, “I don’t cry in front of other people a lot.”

“Do you cry a lot? By yourself?” His voice is soft and has a heart-wrenching hint of sadness to it. You can’t exactly read him like a book yet, but you know that he probably feels like he’s failed as a boyfriend somehow. Carefully, you reach up to rest your hand over his.

“Not really…” It’s not a lie, but that look on Jaemin’s face is still there. The one that says your guess about how he’s feeling is right.

“You can cry around me, you know. I’ll take all your sadness away.” His profession is so sincere, so sweet that it almost makes you start crying again. You know that he truly means it, too.

“Jaemin…” The look has turned into something slightly more hopeful, pleading for you to let him in. “Okay. I’ll try.” Try? Neither of you know exactly what you’re going to try to do, yet it’s still enough for both of you. After that, he seems to snap back to his normal self, pressing little kisses all over your face and dragging you into his lap. Even so, it’s clear that neither forget the words you exchanged.

Eighteen.

Na Jaemin has always made more than enough time for you. Though there’s always a new school, family, or friend event to attend, he rejects about a quarter of them for quiet stay-at-home dates with you. As often as possible, he tries to bring you with him and you try to bring him with you to any of your own events. Sometimes, though, he has to go alone.

You’ll admit that, in the last few weeks, you’ve gotten far too used to your boyfriend being at home. This time, he has some sort of family event back in his hometown and, though he invited you to join him, you can’t because of a huge test you have on Monday. However, your shared apartment feels far too quiet without him. Throughout the day, you catch yourself when you’re about to call out to him to ask him a question or simply for a distraction. You distract yourself enough during dinner by going out for a friend, but then you’re back in your apartment by ten at night. To your disappointment, Jaemin has already sent you a goodnight text, saying that he wishes he could talk but he has to wake up early. After sending him a goodnight text back, you resign yourself to idly watching some Netflix show that you don’t remember very much of.

That night, you toss and turn in your bed, unable to sleep. The space where Jaemin normally sleeps feels too cold. Somewhere in your restlessness, you start to feel somewhat embarrassed. You’re really this dependent on your boyfriend? Still... it’s just so strange not having him here.

The comfort of the thought that he’s sleeping soundly in his bed in his hometown is enough for you to stop messing up your sheets with your movement and try to settle down. You know he would be telling you to fall asleep quickly so you can keep studying for your test, the entire reason you’re still here in the first place. Even with your head resting on his pillow on his side of the bed, his familiar scent wrapped around you as much it can be, you still count three sets of one hundred sheep before you even feel tired. The last number you remember is three hundred and eighteen.

Nineteen.

Na Jaemin has quite the memory for specifics when it comes to you. Whether it be the type of bagel you like to eat in the morning or the date of your mother’s birthday, he’s always remembering things about you. It’s quite sweet and is just another reminder of how important you are to him. You struggle a bit more with some of those things, but every detail you bring up that you remember about him has him glowing.

“Can you believe we met when we were teenagers?” Jaemin says it out of nowhere one day when both of you are lounging around your apartment.

You hum in response, looking away from your book and tapping your chin. “Hm, I guess you’re right. Nineteen feels like a long time ago, though.”

“You’re talking like we’re old. I don’t know about you, but I'm still young as a spring chicken.”

You can’t help laughing at that. “You want me to believe you’re not old when you use that expression?”

He turns his nose up at you, refusing to smile when you nudge him in the side. “Words are timeless, thank you very much.”

“Mhm, okay. Maybe you’ve just been a vampire this entire time and you’re actually two hundred years old, trying to trick me.”

He sits up, mustering up a look of pure innocence. “Me? A vampire? Trick you? Whatever would make you think that?”

“Well, you’re too handsome to be any normal human.” You’re almost proud of how you set that one up when his face lights up.

“What does that make you, then? An angel?” Though you don’t blush as easily as you used to, it’s still hard to simply swallow all of the flattery he throws at you, even if it’s a taste of your own medicine this time. Still, you attempt to continue the banter.

“You’ve corrupted this angel, then, Mr. Vampire.”

He pouts. “Corrupted you? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He pauses for a moment, then gives you a sly smile. “I suppose you have learned how to flirt better because of me.”

“Well, I had to get used to it somehow. Then again, it could just be natural talent.” Before he can laugh because you both know that’s not true, you swoop in, pressing a kiss to his lips. He relishes in the feeling for a moment, then proceeds to drag you onto his lap. As inconsequential as that memory may be, you’ll always remember the way your apartment filled with sunlight and laughter that day.

Twenty.

Na Jaemin, in all of his obviousness, can also be quite sneaky.

You learned this well in just the first few weeks you were dating, but even now, a year later, you still find it to be almost out of character for him. He’s strange in the way that he is simultaneously the most subtle and the least subtle person you know.

When you receive the text ‘Are you okay?’ from him one night while you’re sitting in your own apartment, face pressed into your pillow while you play sad songs and mope over the particularly frustrating homework that you left scattered on your desk, you’re slightly suspicious. Does he just have a strange sixth sense for you being upset? Still, you muster up the energy to stop moping and respond to him. Before you can finish typing a drab ‘I’m fine’ to him, you receive a second message from him.

JM: Are you okay?

JM: You don’t have to lie

After a moment of thought, you erase your message and start typing a new one.

Y/N: Not really… this assignment is killing me and ngl I spent the last twenty minutes crying

JM: oh baby

JM: you know that i believe in you more than anyone, right? if anyone can do it, you can!

Y/N: you really don’t know how much that means to me, Jaems :((

JM: check your spotify real quick :)

You’re confused, but you do as he says. You scroll through it for a moment before a new playlist catches your eye. The playlist’s title is simply a sun emoji and it says that you created it. You don’t remember the playlist at all, though. When you scroll through it, you nearly tear up again. All twenty of the songs in the playlist are your absolute favorites, ones that make you happy no matter what. Jaemin had to have made this playlist, right? Your suspicions are only confirmed when, after you start playing the first song, he sends you a sun emoji.

JM: you logged onto your account on my phone last week

JM: i know you only listen to sad songs when you’re upset, so put on that playlist whenever you don’t want to talk about whatever’s bothering you and you need a pick-me-up, okay?

You call him right after that, tears of happiness at how caring, how sweet, how perfect he is slipping down your face this time. At some point, time escapes you, so when you glance at the clock on your phone, you’re shocked to see that an hour has passed. With a promise to call him again after you’re done with your assignment, you hang up. Except, the first thing you do after you hang up isn’t to start working again. Instead, you edit his contact in your phone to have a little sun emoji in his name.

Twenty-one.

Na Jaemin has never minded you borrowing his clothes to wear.

Last night was one of those nights that you stayed over at his apartment - not an uncommon occurrence - so you’re digging through his closet, attempting to find something suitable to wear after you use his shower. As you’re pawing through his closet, your fingers wrap around a particularly comfy looking hoodie when you see a gem of his past hidden behind it. Abandoning the hoodie, you pull out an old jersey, his last name and the number twenty-one stamped on the back. “Nana, tell me about this. You played basketball?”

He looks up from his bed, where he’s lounging about, scrolling on his phone. The sight of the athleticwear draws a fond smile onto his face. “I played in high school for a bit! Jeno pushed me to try out one year and I actually did well enough that I got on the team.” He gets up and takes the shirt from your hands. “Ah, this brings back memories. This is how I got my lucky number, you know.” You make a little noise of recognition in response. The sight of him gazing at the jersey with a warm, nostalgic look in his eyes makes you smile. “I’m glad I got to see it, but why did you bring it to school?”

“Thought I could wear it as a Halloween costume or something one year. Or didn’t have the heart to leave it home, maybe.” You understand the feeling. You couldn’t leave one or two of your own high school shirts at home. Realizing how strange the comment has made the atmosphere, he stops gazing at the item in his hands, giving you a mischievous look instead. “You know, basketball player isn’t that bad of an idea for a Halloween costume, but we should do a couple costume. If I’m a basketball player, you get to be a sexy cheerleader.”

That sudden comment makes you snort. “In your dreams. I’ll be a cheerleader who wears a hoodie and sweatpants to perform.”

Though the conversation devolves into both of you playfully pushing each other with words and physical touches, it’s those small moments where you get a look at a different side of Jaemin that always stand out to you.

Twenty-two.

Na Jaemin does a really good job at convincing you to make bad decisions sometimes. This week’s bad decision is a twenty-four hour movie marathon that he insisted on having once he learned that you’d never pulled an all nighter. The first movie was his pick, then the second was yours, and then his again before you both agreed to put on the entire Lord of the Rings series.

Once the sun has long left the sky, the day starts taking a toll on you and, whenever you start to feel your eyes drooping, Jaemin prods you, telling you to not be lame and to stay awake, except one glance at him tells you that he’s also feeling the exhaustion. Even the abhorrent number of espresso shots he puts into his coffee can’t keep him awake forever, especially since you had convinced him that it was cheating to have anything too caffeinated after a certain time of the evening. You had started at nine in the morning the day before and the sun is now peaking through the blinds of Jaemin’s apartment.

“Only,” Jaemin says, glancing at the time on his phone, “two hours to go…”

His body is far too warm and the blanket you’re snuggled under is far too soft for you to be able to last much longer, you’re sure. You also know that it would invigorate you if you got up, walked around, maybe drank some water, but a part of you doesn’t want to succeed at your twenty-four hour movie marathon.

The little bit of extra warmth that lands on you from the sun is enough to lull you to sleep. As you nod off at around seven, twenty-two hours after you started, you’re too tired to notice that Jaemin had already fallen asleep, his nose pressed into your hair and his arm around your waist.

Twenty-three.

Na Jaemin has slowly divulged his secrets to you.

No ticklish person willingly gives up the information that they’re ticklish - you have to discover it on your own. You had your suspicions that he’s weak to being tickled when you first snuck up on him while he was wearing earbuds one day. You had surprised him with a hug from behind, like he so frequently does to you, and he instinctively responded to your fingertips grazing him side by squirming. He twisted in your arms, turning around to face you, his eyebrows raising in surprise before he broke out into a bright smile. When he had embraced you and popped out his earbuds, engaging you in a conversation and cooing about how happy he was to see you, you nearly forgot about his strange reaction to your touch.

You decide to run a little test. When you’re eating dinner with him at his apartment later that night, you reach over at one point and prod at his side with your fingers. His reaction is more than you expected - he practically doubles over, twisting away from you and swatting at your hand. Once you pull your hand away, smirking at your discovery, he recovers from being tickled and gives you a look of betrayal. Before he can complain, you speak. “We’ve been together for more than a year now and you didn’t tell me you’re ticklish?”

“I’m not!” That denial is the first thing out of his mouth, but when you make a motion with your hand that threatens to tickle him again, he raises both of his hands in defense. “Okay! I may have a slight weakness to being tickled...”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Jaemin. Completely normal.” He just shrugs, but seems to be more relaxed. “Will you trust me for a moment?”

“I always trust you, I-” As soon as those words are out of his mouth, you swing a leg over his, straddling him with your phone in hand. “Whoa,” he says, his hands instinctively going to your hips, “I didn’t know you were feeling frisky tonight.”

“Don’t be gross.” You stick your tongue out at him.

“Me, being gross? You’re the one who just hopped onto my lap like-”

“Just tell me when it gets to be too much, okay?” You open the timer app on the device in your hand.

His eyes widen. “Wait, what-” He is interrupted as you press start on your timer and start tickling him furiously. The air of his apartment fills with his tortured laughter. He squirms uncomfortably under you, making it hard to keep your balance atop his legs. Finally, in a feat of incredible focus, he grabs onto both of your hands, holding them down on top of your own lap. A glance at your phone screen tells you that he lasted twenty-three seconds of your tickling. He’s red in the face, an uncommon sight for you, and he’s breathing heavily, a disappointed pout on his face. “You could have warned me! What if I just did that to you out of nowhere?”

“I’m not ticklish,” you say triumphantly, smirking at him, “and you pull any number of surprises on me all the time.”

“You’re so weird. It looks like I’ll just have to “surprise” you more often to make up for this, then,” he grumbles, releasing your hands to make air quotes in his sentence. Feeling a bit guilty, you lean forward slightly, kissing him on the tip of his nose.

“I look forward to it.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, pretending like he doesn’t think what you’re saying is unbearably cute. “I hate you.”

“Well, I love you. Forgive me?”

You get your answer when you lean forward to kiss him on the cheek, but he simply captures your lips with his own instead.

Twenty-four.

Na Jaemin overworks himself far too much for your liking. That’s probably why he has a cold right now and is too miserable to get out of bed. When he finally admitted to being sick, you opted to visit and take care of him without even thinking too much about it. You never mind helping him out - he is your boyfriend, after all - but it certainly does not feel good to see someone you care about be in so much pain.

You let yourself into his apartment with the spare key he gave you, ingredients for some soup in hand, and all you can see is darkness. His blinds are drawn, so you feel around for the lightswitch, flicking it on. Everything inside is disturbingly untouched, telling you that he really hasn’t gotten out of bed today. Sliding off your shoes and depositing your food in the kitchen, you make your way to his bedroom, knocking lightly. You’re met with a groan, so you let yourself in. All that you can see of your boyfriend is a lump of blankets. You would laugh at the sight if this wasn’t the most ill you’ve ever seen him. “Jaemin,” you coo, padding towards his bed and putting a hand on what you think is his shoulder, “I’m here.”

His head pops out from under the blankets. He’s sweaty, some of his bangs sticking to his forehead, and you can practically feel the warmth radiating off of him, but the very characteristic pout on his lips makes you believe that he might not be dying just yet. A moment later, he’s ducking back under the covers, hiding his face. “No,” he whines, drawing out the sound, “you can’t look at me. I’m not handsome right now.”

You have to stifle a laugh at that. “Honey, you’re always handsome. Have you eaten anything yet?”

He peeks out so that only the parts of his face above his nose are visible. “I don’t want to get up.” The sound comes out muffled, but you manage to decipher it.

“Lucky for you that I’m here so that I can bring it to you.”

Through the day, you feed him bit by bit and force him to drink water and tea, banning coffee because he doesn’t need that sort of caffeination in his system. You even coax him into taking a bath in the evening, where he nearly disrobes in front of you in his sick haze. As he’s doing that, you have some time to think and you discover that, though you would rather your boyfriend not suffer and be back in good health, you don’t mind him relying on you for once. Jaemin has always been there for you, supporting you with his entire heart and taking the lead whenever you couldn’t, and now it feels like you’re paying him back in at least some small way.

When he returns to his room, clothed this time, you take your time drying his hair for him. You’re about to stand and wish him goodnight, but he takes ahold of your hand as you do so, tugging on it. This is a familiar situation - there have been many times where Jaemin has stopped you from going home at night and made you stay with him. Except, usually, he would just pull you into bed with him, using his strength advantage. Now, the tug on your hand is small, weak, and your heart hurts at the expression he’s making. He’s pleading with his eyes as best as he can. “Please stay.”

“But,” you start, already feeling the weakness of the excuse, “you’re sick and I’ll just take up too much space in your bed and…” You sigh. “I’ll stay.” Luckily enough, you wore comfy clothes to his apartment. It’s warm under his blankets and his skin isn’t blazing anymore like it was earlier in the day. He’s facing you, blinking at you with half-lidded eyes. Slowly, his hand slides up, running through your hair before it drops down to find your hand. “Are you gonna sleep now?” You whisper, seeing his eyes droop even more.

“Mhm,” he hums in response, thumb idly rubbing over the top of your hand. A minute later, he’s stilled almost completely. After not much longer, you follow him into dreamland.

When you awaken, it’s because sunlight is burning through your eyelids. With a quiet groan, you realize that you forgot to close the blinds of his room last night after you had forced him to let some light in during the day. Upon opening your eyes, you’re greeted with the sight of Jaemin smiling at you, sleep still heavy on his face. “Good morning, beautiful.”

His voice is gravely, but doesn’t have the depressing weariness to it that it did yesterday. With a smile of your own, you murmur back to him. “Good morning to you, too. I only get one day off from your shameless flirting?”

“Shameless? You want me to have shame for flirting with my lovely, amazing, caring, talented-”

“You’re doing it again-”

“-girlfriend who took care of me when I was feeling my worst?” With that, you purse your lips, looking away from him. He proceeds to smother you in cuddles, pulling you against him and practically wrapping his entire body around yours.

“Na Jaemin, you’re still sick!” You try to say, but it comes out as a series of muffled sounds and he ignores you, continuing to cuddle you furiously. He pulls away briefly just to pepper you with kisses.

“I‘m only sick of how you’re not returning my love,” he says half in the middle of peck on your cheek.

“If I didn’t return your love, would I have stayed here for the last twenty-four hours taking care of you?” He stops just short of kissing you directly on the lips, pulling back to give you a look of shock.

“We spent our first full day together and I was completely out of it the whole time?” You’re about to open your mouth to scold him for trying to make you feel bad about taking care of him, but he breaks into a familiar mischievous smile. “Looks like you’ll have to spend all of today here to make for it.” When he sees that you’re about to protest, he continues. “Or all of today and tomorrow.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him, holding back the grin threatening to spread on your face, too. “It seems like someone is feeling better. It’s like you don’t even need me to stay here and take care of you.”

He falls back onto the bed instantly, throwing an arm over his forehead and feigning illness. “Oh no, it’s so much worse than before. I can’t get out of bed.”

You spend the next few minutes trying to wrestle him out of the comfort of his blankets, only to find that, in all truthfulness, he is still a bit weak when it comes to walking and any other form of exertion. That night, he forces you to stay over once again and, honestly, you’re not sure you were ever opposed to the idea at all.

Twenty-five.

Na Jaemin does not make a point of crying in front of you. He also doesn’t make a point of showing you when he’s really, truly upset, either, for the most part. He scolded you before about keeping your tears to yourself, that he’s always there with an open shoulder should you ever need to cry, but you can count the number of times you’ve seen him cry on one hand. For someone so warm and radiant, he’s miraculously closed off. He never shies away from showing love and it’s a constant tug-of-war between the two of you over who loves who the most, as he won’t accept your care in return half the time.

It’s about a week before finals and you’ve deemed that you completed a satisfactory amount of studying for the evening. Somehow, Jaemin hasn’t joined you in your shared bedroom yet, so you step out to check on him, stretching your arms above your head and yawning. A quick glance at your phone tells you that the date has already changed from twenty-four to twenty-five, meaning that it’s past midnight. When you emerge into the kitchen, you see Jaemin’s figure hunched over the table, his forehead resting on the trackpad of his laptop. Well, that’s concerning. He doesn’t lift his head as you approach, simply staring down at the floor from his strange position. “Jaemin?” You question, reaching forward to prod his shoulder. He just groans quietly as you do so. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he mumbles, speaking towards the floor, “you should go to bed.” Despite his reassurances, a genuineness is missing from his voice and he still isn’t looking at you. Sighing quietly to yourself, you get on the ground, squeezing between some chairs to get under the table so you can look him in the eyes. Surprise lights his eyes up slightly as you grab his hand and tug on it gently.

“I’m not going to bed,” you say gently, the familiar warmth of your hands feeling soothing on his skin, “until you tell me what’s wrong and how I can help.”

It’s his turn to sigh. Still, he relents. “There’s nothing you can do to help. The paper I’ve been working on for the last six hours just closed randomly and I lost four pages of work.”

“That’s still fixable! Not a lost cause.”

“It’s due in the morning.”

“Oh.” You frown for a moment before letting out a quiet hum. “Hm, think of it this way. You’ve already written the paper, so now you just have to remember it, and maybe use this chance to make it even better than it was before! And the sooner you finish it, the sooner you’ll be done, if that makes sense.” Though his forehead is still pressed against the table, he nods to the best of his ability.

“I guess you’re right…”

“I’ll even make coffee for you if you want.”

He laughs quietly, only half of what a normal laugh would be from him. “You hate when I drink coffee.”

“I don’t hate it,” you say, pouting, “I’m okay with it when it helps you. And because you like it.” At that, he smiles slightly, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand.

“It’s okay, I don’t need coffee right now anyways. All I need is for you to come here so I can kiss you.” Encouraged by the fact that he seems in slightly better spirits now, you get too excited and try to lean forward from your position under the table, only succeeding on banging your head on the edge of the wood. You pull back with a groan, ignoring the full laughs now coming out of your boyfriend. As he tries to calm his laughter down, he pushes back his chair and slides to the ground, joining you on the floor. He moves the hand you have cupped over the bump forming on your scalp, his lips pressing over the spot instead. Before you can remark on him laughing on you, his leans forward, kissing you fully on the lips. You sit on the floor with him, the light from your apartment bleeding out into the dark night outside the window, letting him find comfort in your lips against his and your hands intertwined.

When he pulls away, the words leave your lips so easily. “I love you.” It’s barely a whisper, but that’s okay. That’s okay because he’s the only one who needs to hear it. He’s usually the one who says it first, always saying it so easily, but, this time, the words leave your mouth as smoothly as they usually leave his. He only lets the surprise show on his face for a moment before he’s grinning and then kissing you one more time.

“I love you, too.”

Both of you know that you shouldn’t spend much longer just kissing and exchanging confessions on the floor, but you take just a few more minutes to do so anyways. Finally, the two of you get up - more carefully this time - and he doesn’t complain as you drag a chair over and sit next to him as he wakes his laptop back up to work on his paper. He especially doesn’t complain when you drift off about two hours later and your head droops onto his shoulder.

“What’re you doing?”

Jaemin’s arms are suddenly around you from behind, bumping your arm and making your pen skitter slightly over the page, disrupting your sentence.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you sigh and don’t respond to the kiss he presses to your cheek before you turn towards him. He slides into the chair next to you and rests his elbow on the desk, his chin in his hand. “Na Jaemin, do you see what you just made me do?”

“I would be sorry, but you’ve been cooped up in here for like four hours now and you haven’t said a single word to me. I know you’re not doing homework, so…” He looks at you expectantly, waiting for an answer to his question. He glances down at your notes and you quickly move to cover them with your arms.

“I’m making a memory journal! You can’t look until I get all of them down.” He moves his head, trying to see under your arms, so you quickly snap the notebook shut, hiding the words inside.

“So secretive,” he grumbles, eyeing the closed notebook, “how many do you have so far?” “Twenty five.”

“You really have that many? Color me impressed.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips at that. “I’m trying to get to one hundred, one memory for each number.”

His eyes widen. “You’ll really have one for every number?”

“I mean… it’s not always easy to think of one… I-” As you’re speaking, he suddenly lunges forward, pulling the notebook away from you and flying away from his seat when you try to grab it back from him. “Na Jaemin!”

He ignores you, attempting to open your notebook and read what you have written, but you pursue him, forcing him to dodge you repeatedly. When you try to circle him, he simply raises the item above his head, avoiding your tries at snatching it back. Then, he tosses it onto your bed. Your eyes swing back and forth between him and the item before you go for it. His arms wrap around your waist and he’s suddenly tossing you onto the bed on your stomach as well. You shriek his name when he picks the notebook back up before you can and lies on top of you, weighing you down with his body. For a moment, you’re squirming under him, trying to smack at him, but you find that your leverage is too poor, so you just lie prone underneath him while he flips the notebook open and his eyes flit quickly over the words. “Jaemin,” you whine, “seriously.”

He ignores you, but you watch as his face shifts, his lips parting in some sort of happy surprise and eyebrows lifting. “Is this how you remember it?”

“Yeah,” you huff, his weight putting uncomfortable pressure on your lungs, “is there something wrong with it?”

“Nothing is wrong with it,” he says, eyes still moving over the page, “you’re just so... cute. Like, even more than usual.”

“If you think it’s that cute, you can get off of me so I can keep working.” You wiggle a little underneath him again.

“You should take a break,” he declares, getting off of you quickly and snapping the book shut. He reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you up.

“You just want me to amuse you.”

“No,” he says, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout, “I miss my girlfriend and I want to spend time making more memories with her.” He leans forward, his lips by your ear. Your hair stirs as his breath disturbs some of it. “In case you didn’t know, that’s you.”

He starts to tug you along, away from your bed and the incomplete notebook that is now resting on the blankets. “Wait, I didn’t even get to write about when you made me go cliff diving, or how your heart rate speeds up whenever we’re together, or-”

“Y/N.” He turns to you, still holding your hand. “It’ll help to go make more memories now. You’ll get to one hundred eventually. Let’s go.”

As he’s tugging you out of your apartment a minute later, the number placard on the front of your unit reflects back some of the hallway light. You make a note to yourself.

Twenty six. The apartment number where you live with the love of your life, where you sit and write the story of how you met, and where he can take you away to go on even more adventures.

#neowritingsnet #jaemin fluff #nct fluff #00 line fluff #nct dream fluff #if you have any comment or critiques feel free to leave it in tags comments or pop into my ask box!! i love hearing what people have to say!#also hi it's been two months since i've posted a fic <3 i'm almost at 200 followers so this is very late #somni ily i hope you like this

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mostweakhamlets · 4 years

Text

Cake Heals All Wounds

This fic was published on patreon on August 14th as part of the four exclusive stories that you can read for $2 a month! This one is sort of a Great British Bake Off AU

Aziraphale sighed in relief as soon as he was out of the tent and in the open, grassy field. While the sun was hot and beamed down directly on his head, it was better than the suffocating heat that had been trapped inside with the contestants and crew and the two of them.

“Fuck the producers for scheduling the longest bakes in the middle of a heatwave.”

Crowley lifted his hair off the back of his neck. His cheeks were splotched with red and sweat soaked his hairline. The poor thing looked miserable in his all-black outfit that had become his signature style.

Aziraphale tutted. “You can’t expect them to predict the weather when they schedule the series months ahead of time.”

They had managed to escape before makeup cornered them to dab up their perspiration and re-apply powders and concealers. Aziraphale was tired of having tissues shoved into his collar and towels pressed to his forehead. He just wanted a moment of peace without a camera on him.

“It happens every year,” Crowley said. “I think they’re doing it on purpose. It’s either their longest bakes or something with chocolate. It’s psychological torture at this point.”

Aziraphale did feel terrible for the bakers who were on the verge of breakdowns induced by both stress and the heat. Crowley was right, though. It wasn’t anything new. Filming was coming to an end, and the tension was increasing every minute along with the temperature.

Crowley had his conspiracy theories that the producers intentionally made every other episode miserable for the bakers for entertainment. Aziraphale doubted that they were that evil. But he knew what ratings looked like, and he knew how people took to social media when dramatic episodes aired. It was good for the producers, but it couldn’t have been intentional. At least not totally. Not every time.

“Oh God, they found us,” Crowley mumbled.

Two women, who were always well-meaning, approached them. The dabbing of tissues and the assaulting with brushes began.

Aziraphale was ready to be in the studio for voiceovers. He didn’t have to be in the heat with every scent of bread and cake clinging onto him by the end of the day (which he didn’t necessarily hate, but it did grow old). He could be in his own comfortable clothing rather than the dapper get-up that the audience expected to see him in, and he wouldn’t need layers of powder on his face for him to scrape off later.

“They’re getting ready to decide who’s going home, we think,” one of the women said, removing tissues from his collar.

Crowley chugged the water bottle he was handed as his makeup artist tried dabbing a powder puff into his cheeks. “I hate that part.”

“Well, I have to say it this week,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley smiled at him. “Yeah. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You could try taking your turn.”

“But they love it when it’s you.” ‘They’ was the audience. “You get all choked-up.”

“Just take your turn next week, and we’ll call it even.”

“Next week is the semi-finals.”

It was the last time someone would be sent home and the most emotional week of the series. Whoever didn’t make it would be devastated after making it so far and getting nothing. And Aziraphale and Crowley would be heartbroken having to be the bearer of bad news and see a familiar face leave. It was their annual tradition to go out after filming and buy a couple of bottles of wine and whiskey and sit up all night while binging on their alcohol and take out.

“I’m aware.”

Crowley scoffed. “I was thinking something along the lines of dinner.”

“You can take me to dinner, too.”

“Unbelievable.”

Crowley slid his sunglasses off to allow his eyes and nose to be touched up. Aziraphale watched as the off-hazel, nearly-yellow looked off in the distance. His eyes gained him a bit of celebrity. They were a “distinct feature” as talent agencies and IMDb declared. Crowley had grown sick of them and never saw anything quite special about them in the first place.

Aziraphale was obsessed with them.

“Alright, let’s get back inside before we get yelled at.”

Crowley walked back into the tent. Aziraphale followed.

—

“What do you mean you have another gig?”

“I mean that I have another gig, angel.”

Aziraphale wished the conversation was happening in public. That way, Crowley could see how huffy he looked. He could furrow his brow and purse his lips. But as it was, he could only try to convey his near-tantrum over the phone.

“What is it?”

“I can’t really say yet. All I can tell you is that I’m not going to be at the studio at the same time as you. Is it really that big of a deal?”

“Yes! We’re always there together.”

“It’ll just have to be different this time. Listen, angel, I have to go. I have a rehearsal soon.”

“Rehearsal for your new gig?”

“Yes. I’ll talk to you later. Are we still on for lunch Friday?”

Aziraphale thought about canceling the plans just to be a bastard. “Of course.”

—

“Anathema’s ‘Occult Occake’ is an aesthetical twist on the traditional jam cake. Dyed black with squid ink, the cake will be layered with homemade strawberry jam. It’ll be shaped as a demon-summoning circle with powder sugar symbols and fondant candles.”

Aziraphale wished he could record the lines before knowing the results. Anathema would have been the winner that week if that cake had turned out as she had envisioned it. The jam, which she had attempted to make in the tent, had been far too runny and seeped into the cake. Aziraphale had stood by as the hosts cut into it and revealed the soggy mess.

It was the first time Anathema had cried on camera, and it was all Aziraphale could think about.

“Can we try that again, Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale nodded. If Crowley were there, nothing would feel amiss and Aziraphale wouldn’t be flubbing his lines.

“Anathema’s ‘Occult Occake’ is an aesthetical twist on the traditional jam cake…”

He wouldn’t be thinking about Anathema’s face crumpled as soon as the hosts looked up at her with disappointed raised eyebrows and comments about how “Really, we expected better from you.” It was the worst Anathema could be confronted with—disappointment. Aziraphale had picked up on that by helping her plate biscuits and giving her mid-bake pep talks. She didn’t care if her presentation went wrong or if flavors didn’t work well. She only cared if she had expectations set on her, and as it looked as she was going to win the entire series (and as nearly the entire country hopes for it), she felt the pressure.

“Anathema’s ‘Occult Occake’ is an aesthetical twist on the traditional jam cake…”

If Crowley were there, he could point out how Anathema had quickly dried her tears and how Newt had run over to hug her as soon the cameras cut. He could take Aziraphale’s mind off the ordeals they had to go through.

“Anathema’s ‘Occult Occake’ is an aesthetical twist on the traditional jam cake…”

—

“Try this one.”

Aziraphale turned around and a bite of cake was being shoved in his face. He took Crowley’s hand and held it away so he could have a little dignity while taking it in his mouth. Once he realized how their fingers were touching and for so long, though, he pulled away with burning cheeks. It was obscene.

When the cameras finally went off for the last time that year, Aziraphale and Crowley were free to finally eat the cake they had watched being made for hours. And they were always determined to eat their fill of each of the three cakes presented before they were divvied up among the crowd of past-contestants and family.

Aziraphale hummed. It was rich and sweet and moist and satisfied his growling stomach. “Is that Newton’s?”

Crowley nodded and stabbed at the mangled piece on his plate. The cakes were supposed to remain pretty after being cut into, but Crowley somehow had the ability to make a mess out of anything he ate.

It was endearing if a bit annoying when Aziraphale wanted to take his time savoring every bite. Aziraphale could never be too annoyed with anything Crowley ever did. At the end of every day, he thought of Crowley and smiled.

His chest was tight, and his mouth was dry. He regretted not grabbing a glass of champagne.

“I was thinking,” Aziraphale said, “of taking a holiday in a few weeks.”

Crowley shoved more cake into his mouth. The dear would end up sick if he didn’t pace himself. Again, it was endearing yet annoying.

“Where’you goin’?” Crowley asked around the cake.

“That’s the thing.” Aziraphale rubbed his hands together and smiled. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. “I was wondering if you’d like to join me, and if you would, I’d like you to have some say.”

Crowley froze. He swallowed his cake. He looked away.

“Uh… sure. I don’t have much on. Just a little filming over the next month.”

“Oh, of course. Your new gig.”

Aziraphale’s heart sank, though he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t disappointed. He got what he wanted. A holiday with his friend whom he fancied that could potentially lead to more. But he wasn’t happy, either.

“Yeah.”

Crowley was becoming more popular, Aziraphale had to admit. While Aziraphale had made his fair share of guest appearances since the show gained its devoted, international following, Crowley was becoming an actual celebrity—noticed in shops, gaining masses of new followers on social media, earning nominations for bougie awards. Aziraphale was happy for him. But he also knew that with the newfound popularity, there was less time to spend together.

There would always be new gigs and interviews and publicity. There would be business dinners and coffees and contract meetings. There would be conflicting schedules and canceled lunches and postponed traditions.

“I’ll check my schedule, and we can plan something around it.”

“Around your new schedule. Right.”

And there was always the fear of Crowley leaving the show for good. What would Azirpahale do then? They were a duo at this point. Would Aziraphale be asked to leave the show? Would he leave on his own accord if his partner—filming partner, totally professional—wasn’t around anymore?

And if they weren’t filming together anymore, then would they grow apart?

“We can figure it out,” Crowley said. “And then we can decide where we’re going.”

“Alright.”

Crowley smiled. “Why do you look sad?”

“I don’t! I’m quite happy. There’s no reason to be sad.”

Crowley clearly didn’t believe him. He cut into Anathema’s winning cake and handed a somewhat sloppy piece to Aziraphale.

Cake healed all wounds.

#good omens #my fics #patreon

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redisriding · 3 years

Note

Tell us about yourself!

Yikes! So I didn't really know where to begin with this one, Well I was born on the banks of the river... Nah! So I googled “fun get to know me questions” and the resulting questionnaire had 371 questions. I decided to answer the first 100!

Strap yourself in, because HERE WE GO!

1. What is your full name?

Red is Riding ;)

2. What does your name mean?

Funny story, so I actually created this alias to partake in some underground hedonistic activities. When I went to start my Tumblr I just decided to use the same one because I’m not very creative and didn’t want to make up a new one. I never thought that this blog would become as popular as it has, and now I couldn’t be bothered changing the name. It does make me laugh though, if only you people knew what I used to get up to under this alias.

3. Are you named after anyone?

Little Red Riding Hood?

4. Does your name make any interesting anagrams?

I don’t think so, but maybe someone smarter than me could figure it out.

5. If you had to change your first name, what would you change it to?

I would probably change my real first name if I could as unfortunately I share it with a reasonably well known facist.

6. Where are you from?

A small European country.

7. Where were you born?

In the capital city of that small European country.

8. Where did you grow up?

In the suburbs of the capital of that small European country.

9. Who did you look like growing up?

A member of the band Hanson, if they had red hair and wore those terrible 2000’s wire rimmed glasses.

10.What are your best characteristics?

Oh gosh, isn’t it embarrassing to talk about your good traits? Especially when the way you see yourself is often so different from the way others see you.

11.What are your favorite things about yourself?

Honestly, I’ve great boobs.

12.Which of your parents are you closest to?

Depends on my mood.

13.Which of your parents are you more like?

I think physically I’m more like my mother, but my character is closer to my father.

14.Are your grandparents still married?

Yep, on one side. On the other side my grandad is dead and has been for a very long time.

15.What relative was important to you growing up & why?

I guess my grandparents, they are the only members of the extended family I ever really saw growing up. I was never close to my uncles, and my aunts and cousins all live in different countries.

16.What is one thing that you’ve never revealed to your parents?

Anything about my love life, we just don’t talk about it. Ever!

17.What would your parents have named you if you were the opposite gender?

I’m actually not sure. I know they had lots of other traditionally female names picked out, but I don’t know any male names they had for me. I’m not sure if they knew early on if I was going to be a girl, would make sense though.

18.What do you call your grandparents?

I call one of my grandmother’s by her first name, and my grandad, grandad.

19.What is your best physical feature?

My boobs!…I have pretty eyes too.

20.What is your biggest accomplishment?

Probably getting into University and graduating top of my class.

21.What is your biggest fear?

Having all my joints simultaneously dislocate.

22.What is your biggest regret?

The way I’ve treated certain people over the years.

23.What is your eye colour?

Blue.

24.What inspires you?

Hope that tomorrow can be better.

25.What is the most important thing in your life?

My family, and my future.

26.What has required the most courage of you in your life so far?

Hummm, I’m really not sure about this one.

27.Who is your favourite actor?

I truly could not name a single actor.

28.Who is your favourite actress?

As above.

29.Who is your favourite celebrity?

I genuinely have no idea.

30.Who is your favourite musician?

Lorde has been getting me through this quarantine, but my favourite singer/band is/are Florence + the Machine. Maybe that dates me.

31.Who’s your favourite person in the world?

I can’t choose just one!

32.What is your favourite childhood memory?

I’m very lucky, I had a really marvellous childhood. I guess I have some great memories of playing with my brother as a child, but I’m not sure I have a favourite memory.

33.What is your favourite colour?

Teal.

34.What is your favourite cultural activity?

I love going to the theatre.

35.What is your favourite drink?

Water is the thing I drink most often. I don’t like tea or coffee, and I only drink alcohol in social settings not alone of an evening.

36.What is your favourite fairytale?

I’m actually not sure. I know it’s not quite the same but I was never allowed to watch the Disney princess films growing up (a lot of which are based on fairytales) so I can’t say I am particularly attached on any. Although, in answering this question I have remembered by blog name so I probably should say Little Red Riding Hood.

37.What is your favourite food?

Potatoes, they are so wonderfully versatile, I will never get bored eating them.

38.What is your favourite holiday destination?

There is so much of the world I have not yet seen and I cannot wait until we’re allowed to travel again. The last big trip I was on was to Canada, Vancouver, and it was amazing.

39.What is your favourite ice-cream flavour?

Ice cream does not agree with me at all, I always thought I was lactose intolerant because of it (I’m not), but I did love a pistachio ice cream as a kid.

40.What is your favourite music genre?

According to Spotify my most listened to genre is “alternative” whatever that means.

41.What is your favourite physical activity?

Hiking.

42.What is your favourite quote?

I don’t believe I have one. I do know someone who has “live laugh love” tattooed on their foot. Take from that what you will.

43.What is your favourite snack?

Tbh I don't really snack (am I coming across as awfully boring in these questions?) I love three big meals a day. I will eat an apple or something if I need something pre dinner.

44.What is your favourite song?

Either Fascination by Alphabeat, Prayer in C by Lily Wood and the Prick, and Robin Schulz, or Brimful of Asha by Cornershop, the Fat Boy Slim Remix. Those songs never fail to put me in a good mood when I need it.

45.What is your favourite sport?

To watch? Rugby. But I am OBSESSED with the Olympics, especially the winter olympics.

46.What is your favourite time of the day?

Early evening.

47.What is your favourite type of clothing?

Dresses…with pockets! Or jumpers, I love a big wooly jumper.

48.What is your favourite way to pass time?

Read.

49.What is the name of your favourite restaurant?

My favourite restaurant is called Dishoom, but unfortunately it has yet to make it to my little European country, so it’s a real treat if I get to eat there.

50.What is your all-time favourite town or city? Why?

I don’t have one.

51.What is your favourite candle scent?

Probably a classic vanilla, but not an overpowering one. The vanilla candle from IKEA is the NICEST.

52.What is your favourite social media channel?

Probably Twitter, although Tumblr is my place for escape.

53.Where’s your favourite place to take an out-of-town guest?

Ugh I hate being the one to choose where we go. I think it’s because I’m a Libra.

54.What was your favourite subject in High School?

Okay now this is a fun fact, I didn’t actually go to school. I was “Home Educated” which is ideologically different form being Home Schooled. There was no curriculum for me to follow so I could basically dick about doing whatever I wanted during the day. I did study Law which I really enjoyed, and I went onto study it at University.

55.What was your least favourite subject in High School?

Again see above. Although I do remember crying every time my father tried to teach me maths. To this day, I’m still not sure how to work out a percentage, let alone anything more advanced than that.

56.What was your favourite TV show when you were a child?

Sabrina the Teenage Witch (the Melissa Joan Heart version) or anything with Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen in it (have I dated myself again?)

57.What do you love about your favourite TV Show?

They were fun. I wanted to be them!

58.Are you scared of heights?

Nope, but I’m scared of falling and shattering all the bones in my legs.

59.Are you high maintenance?

Definitely not.

60.Are you more inclined to “build your own empire” or unleash the potential of others?

I don’t know what this means, but fuck imperialism.

61.Are you more likely to avoid conflict or engage it head-on?

Ugh, I hate conflict, like I go all trembly, but if there is something amiss I can’t not confront it.

62.Are you a dog person or cat person?

I really adore animals, I had hoped to get a cat during this long and lonely lockdown but my landlord wasn’t keen. If I had more time and space I would love to get a dog, it’s just not feasible in my life at the moment.

63.Are you a fan of any sports team?

Just my national team no matter what the sport.

64.Are you a good cook?

I like to think so.

65.Are you an early adopter or late-adopter?

Depends. I don’t always love change.

66.If you had more courage what would you do differently in your life now?

I don’t think having more courage would change anything in my life right now.

67.What is good about how you are living your life right now?

Oh gosh, I’m so incredibly lucky to have the like that I am living right now. Truly blessed, but at the same time, I have got here because of all my hard work and determination.

68.If you could eliminate one weakness or limitation in your life, what would it be?

I’m not sure if this strictly answers the question, but I wish I could be kinder and more sympathetic to people. I can be harsh on people I care about because I want to see them do well in life and get frustrated when they are doing things that so obviously curtails their ability. I’ve lost friends because of it.

69.Who has left the most impact on your life?

I don’t think I can name just one person.

70.What aspect of your life needs tremendous improvement?

My love life. It’s not existent. Truly. I don’t even have a far away crush on anyone at the moment. I desperately want to experience romantic love, but it’s scary and you have to allow yourself to be soft and vulnerable which is not something that I am very good at. I also have a lot of negative thoughts/self doubts about whether I am good enough to be in a relationship, or worthy enough for love. It’s stupid, obviously, everyone, flaws and all is worthy of love, but because of things that have happened/been said to me I do kind of have this negative chatter of “who could ever love me” or fear people thinking “god love the poor guy who ends up with her.” All that said, I have never actually met anyone who I’ve really liked, let alone anyone who has liked me back. The closest I’ve got, is I’ve been in lust twice in my life with guys, who objectively speaking, I would never think I would be attracted to.

71.What’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen in your life?

I’ve see a lot of weird things tbh, but the first one that springs to mind is that every year we used to go to these big gatherings of families who home educate their children. Now, there are two groups of people that tend to home educate their children 1) EXTREMELY religious families who don’t want their children going to secular schools, and 2) new age hippies who don’t want their children to have to conform to the rigours of school. When these two groups meet…it is interesting. The religious families usually have a lot of children (10+ in many cases), while the hippy families wander around semi-nude and breast feed their children until their grown (7+ years in many cases). So at these home education conferences, the hippy parents would be wandering around, leaky boobs out, and the religious babies would be wandering around because their parents have too many children to keep track of. Whenever one of these babies wandered within range of the hippy parents, they’d take them, and latch them onto their breasts. Absolutely bizarre stuff.

72.Who is the best teacher you’ve ever had?

Myself.

73.Who is the biggest pack rat you know?

I don’t know what this means.

74.Who is the first person you call when something exciting happens?

If it’s a big enough deal to call someone, I’ll call my parents, but usually if something exciting happens I’ll just message my friend group.

75.Who is the first person you call when something horrible happens?

Same as above.

76.Who is the worst boss you’ve ever had?

I had to sue her to get her and her husband to pay me for the work I did.

77.Can you close your eyes and raise your eyebrows?

Yep? Can you not?

78.Can you do a split?

No, but I want to learn! I have really tight hamstrings so that would be good to stretch them.

79.Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

No. Can you?

80.Can you whistle?

Yeah.

81.Can you dance?

Everyone can dance, the question is whether you can dance well or not! I have no rhythm or style, but get me on a dance floor and I’ll bop my socks off.

82.Do you remember your dreams?

Sometimes.

83.Do you save old greeting cards and letters? Throw them away?

I save them for a while, but I’m not overly sentimental.

84.Do you sing in the shower?

Never.

85.Do you sleep with the lights on or off?

Off.

86.Do you spell the colour as grey or gray?

Grey you weirdo!

87.Do you take any pills or medication daily?

Never.

88.Do you prefer kissing or cuddling?

I like kissing because it’s hot and fiery and I think I’m reasonably good at it. Cuddling is the best but it’s something I struggle with as I find it far too intimate. See my answer to Q70.

89.Do you prefer that people shoot straight with you or temper their words? Why?

Hit me between the eyeballs with the truth, please! I just like people who are clear and direct about their intentions, it means everyone knows where they stand.

90.Do you prefer Titanic or The Notebook?

I saw a black and white documentary about the Titanic when I was a very small child (maybe about 5 or 6) and for a long time I thought that was the movie Titanic! I have seen neither the real film Titanic nor the Notebook, although from what I know of the latter I don’t think it would be my thing.

91.Do you have a catchphrase?

I don’t think so, but maybe people in my life would be better at answering this question. What is it that I say a lot?

92.Do you have a garden?

I wish!

93.Do you have a hidden dream that you’ve never shared with anyone?

I’m taking this to mean a goal or aspiration, and not something that I have subconsciously dreamed and been too embarrassed to share? I would love to write a book one day. I’m work on something periodically but I’m not sure if anything will ever come from it, a gal can dream though!

94.Do you have a tattoo?

None! I’m kind of a commitment-phobe, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed?

95.Do you have a whole lot of acquaintances or just a few very close friends? Why?

Both! I know lots of people in passing, but the people I consider actual friends, who know what is going on in my life at any given time, I could count on my fingers.

96.Do you have any allergies?

Not that I’m aware of…

97.Do you have any birthmarks? If so, where?

I used to have one on my back, but it’s faded as I’ve aged.

98.Do you have pets?

Not at the moment.

99.Do you hold any convictions that you would be willing to die for?

That is a big question. I think however, if there was a guarantee, that sacrificing my life would make the lives of others immeasurably better, I would be scarified. I have plenty of convictions that I’m willing to protest/riot/go to prison for.

100.Do you carry a donor card?

Bit ominous after Q99 but yes I do, and my driver’s licence states that I’m a donor.

I’m not sure if this is at all what you were hoping for in asking this, but I honestly had the best fun answering these questions! :)

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italiamira · 3 years

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Causes Adventure Travel Is Great For You

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Everybody deserves a excellent adventure and traveling would be the best method to achieve it. Adventure travel -- going beyond the sandy shores and town rests -- can have tons of benefits aside from supplying you with memories and pleasure. Listed here are the 10 reasons why adventure travel is great for you and you might like to reserve your next holiday without delay.

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Seeing new scenarios, studying nature during its rawest, and experiencing new cultures and customs provides a new perspective in your everyday life. Hopefully, you will observe your own troubles and the excellent stuff you have far better when things round you are so different in the experiences. It is possible to distance yourself in the existing circumstance and have an original look in the things around you. Perhaps it is the right time to study a brand new skill in NewSkill.com.au or ditch the self-obsessed partner. Read this to find out more about tour now.

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Adventure traveling will be the best confidence booster. Surviving a nighttime at the airport, then sleeping in a tent beneath the stars next to Ulurueating and ingestion Indomie instant noodles for fourteen days in a row is bound to get you to truly feel dizzy. In the event you survive a fantastic adventure with its vicissitudes, you are going to survive whatever else. It is possible to better understand your strengths perhaps you are great at handling battle situations or your conditioning is quite a bit superior than you gave yourself credit for.

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You won't have accessibility to daily life's little comforts within an adventure traveling. The truth is that you most probably need to understand how to take advantage of your budget and also get the most from it be able to experience an adventure at the very first place. You may figure out how to live within your way and find people secret online traveling deals in OZCodes.com.au. You could turn into the master of controlling finances, producing enormous adventures from a few means.

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Traveling would be your optimal/optimally method to meet friends or family to strengthen your current friendships. You may meet new folks, making resilient relationships with people who you wouldn't otherwise have met.But you'll also learn how to appreciate the friends you already have when you're not spending some time together with them.

6. Improve your health

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7. Learn a new skill

Whether you know how to create ten distinct sorts of principles, then turn may of SAFCOL lettuce right to a delicious dinner, or speak Spanish with the assistance of community herders (along with Duolingo program ), you are bound to find some thing brand new. The skills will undoubtedly be placed to use later in daily life, however vague they might.

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Maybe not only can you become fitter as a result of adventure traveling, you are also going to enhance your brainpower. As found by a study, individuals who'd exercised outdoors had greater activity in the prefrontal cortex of their mind compared to ahead of the practice. Furthermore, adventure was proven to grow the task in hippocampus, and it is an important portion of mental performance with respect to learning and memory.

9. Help local people

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10. Recognize your fantasies

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Because the above mentioned demonstrates, adventure travel is fantastic for you in many different methods. It enables you to feel on the inside and out, while still providing you with with a great deal of fresh adventures. You may acquire new abilities and comprehension, that you are able to set to use in the future in your life. Thus, don't wait around any more, but go out and experience an adventure!

#tour #adventure #traveling #travel

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blu-joons · 3 years

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DATING SUPER JUNIOR HEADCANON A⇴Z ⇴ Shin Donghee

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Donghee much prefers to receive your affection then to give it. You know that he struggles a lot with insecurities and concerns about himself, so just a simple hug or being able to feel your hand in his is enough for him most of the time.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

It took him a while to warm to you, he was immersed in his work and barely even said hello to you. In fact, the next time you met, when you told him you’d met once before, he couldn’t remember. He was quick to apologise and by you a coffee to make it up to you, which gave him the opportunity to finally get to know you.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

He took a long time to get to know you before he wanted to confess. He wanted to be sure that the two of you would be able to work out considering his last relationship didn’t work. He confessed one night when he invited you out to dinner, he was very shy and nervous, but once you assured him that you felt exactly the same way, he relaxed a lot more. The two of you wanted to take things nice and slow to make sure it worked.

D ⇴ DATES

Donghee spoils you, especially on your dates. He’s not afraid to splash the cash, he’ll take you to the nicest restaurants in the city and often surprise you with little gifts too. Yet, if you want to spend the evening just as his place being lazy, he’s more than happy to do that too. You know he likes the finer things, and if you tell him not to spend so much money on you, he’ll never listen. He’s not great at being romantic, so he tries hard to take you to sweet places where the atmosphere is nice and soft to make up for all of that.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

It’s well known that he was in a serious relationship before, one he thought was going to last forever. The breakdown of that relationship and his own insecurities meant he often gave up on finding love, until he met you. He’d learnt from his mistakes and was determined not to let another potential relationship fall apart. He was very thankful that you were so accommodating to his schedule, it had been one of his biggest worries about dating again, but you knew when he had the time, he’d be there for you.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

He hated arguing with a passion, he loved to joke around and have a laugh, negative atmospheres really didn’t suit him. It would be very rare for him to get angry with you, at times he did have a short temper, but he never took it out on anyone. The worst thing about an argument was that the both of you were quite stubborn, and neither of you wanted to be the first to say sorry. Sometimes it would even take a few days for the two of you to start talking properly to each other again, but eventually you’d figure things out. You both hate arguing, but you’re grown up enough to also accept that’s what happens as adults.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

The opinion of his family didn’t matter too much to Donghee, he was going to date you regardless. You were a little more apprehensive though and were determined to make a good impression. Seeing how loved Donghee was, they soon fell in love with you, and welcomed you into the family as if you’d been there for years.

H ⇴ HOME

It took a little while for Donghee to feel welcome to move you into his home, he enjoyed having his own space, and didn’t want your relationship to take the step too quickly. Over time he slowly moved you in, a day, then a few, then a week, and then over time you finally moved in permanently, but still very conscious of making things went well.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

You were actually the first one to say, ‘I love you.’ Donghee often kept his feelings very close to his chest and didn’t like to show, or tell, how he was feeling. However, when he heard you say you loved him for the first time, he knew he couldn’t keep those feelings to himself anymore and made the decision to let you know how he felt too.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

He really struggles with jealousy; he trusts very few people around you. He knows it stems from his own insecurities. He’ll be very vocal when he’s feeling jealous, he’ll walk straight over to you and whisper in your ear how he’s feeling. You’re very understanding of his feelings too, the second you know that he has concerns, you’ll take a step out of the situation. He feels a lot safer too knowing that you’re with him and where he can look after you. It doesn’t take too long for the feelings to subside too as he relaxes again.

K ⇴ KIDS

Starting a family was something Donghee had never really thought about, he’d always been so career driven. But when he met you, a lot of that changed. He began to think for the first time about starting a family and becoming a dad. He had a lot of love to give deep down, and maybe children were the missing piece of the puzzle to the perfect life that he’d always dreamt of.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

He loves to laugh; he’s always laughing at different things that go on around him, and he loves to laugh at you too. The sound of his laugh always brings a smile to your face, it’s loud and in your face, but that’s what made it so good. He’s also very funny too, years of variety and presenting mean he knows exactly how to make you laugh and pick you up if you’ve had a bit of a bad day. The two of you are always falling over into fits of giggles throughout the day, you both know how to make each other laugh so well.

M ⇴ MISSING

Donghee liked to think of himself as a strong character, even on tour he didn’t let being away from his family affect him. He always thought he’d be the same around you too, but the first time he went away on tour was hell for him. He learnt a lot about himself, and your relationship too. He never imagined that he would depend on one person so much, but suddenly not having you around, or being able to get in contact with you as soon as he needed you was incredibly hard. Once he came back off tour, he refused to let you go for a long time, he wanted to get back to having you around again as quickly as possible.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

You always called him, ‘darling,’ it was something that seemed to stick, and he loved it too. His nicknames were surprisingly soft too, ‘flower,’ and ‘sweet,’ were the ones that cropped up the most.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He was obsessed with your big heart, having someone who was so understanding in his life made him feel like he’d won the lottery, you were a huge support for him which he treasured.

P ⇴ PDA

Whilst he wasn’t big on affection in public, he definitely liked to have you close. Not only because it meant he could keep an eye on you, but it was also very reassuring for him to have close by. He’d often wrap his arm around your waist to keep you nearby. Once you get back into your private space, he’ll be much more affectionate.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

He looks to you for reassurance a lot, so he’ll usually ask for your opinion. It can be big or small, but it always makes him feel better when he knows what you think of something, even if usually you’ll let him know it’s alright.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Donghee is very creative, especially with all of his equipment. He loves to record a lot of your relationship and make videos of all the things you both do. Hidden away in one of his drawers is an old memory stick, with several videos saved that he’s made. It’s a stick only he knows about, kept away for when he wants to look back on some funny memories or if he’s feeling down, especially as he carries it on tour with him too.

S ⇴ SEX

The two of you take turns a lot during intimate moments, sometimes Donghee will like to take control and make you feel loved, other times he’ll like for you to take control and appreciate him. You both love to make each other feel loved, there’s a lot of words exchanged in heated moments, but you always take care the best care of each other. You’re good at knowing what the other wants too, which always makes things easier.

T ⇴ TEXTS

He tends to text you quite often throughout the day. He’s not needy for attention, but he does like to check up on you from time to time to make sure you’re alright, and even try and arrange plans for you both that night.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

It was hard for him to describe how you’d changed his life. You’d given him back the confidence that he’d lost a long time ago. For once, he felt comfortable being him, he didn’t feel like he ever had to change, because he was special and loved as he was.

V ⇴ VACATION

He was very busy, and holidays were very rare, which meant he usually tried to take you with them when they went to different places. He’d try and record a lot of what went on, most of it went on his secret memory stick, but it was still nice for you both to look over. He loved adventuring with you, especially finding new places to eat and enjoy.

W ⇴ WHINING

There were few occasions when he would whine, usually it would be when he got frustrated with work, to which you’d show up and try and help him out.

X ⇴ XXXXX

He loved to kiss against your cheek when he had you by your side or attack the tip of your nose as he knew it made you squirm. His hands would often cup the sides of your cheeks when he wanted to kiss you properly. He loves to receive your kisses too, he’ll often appear with his face in front of yours, tapping his cheek instructing you exactly what he wants, but you can never deny him a kiss.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his biggest support, the one who encouraged him no matter what.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

You were second best at night, his dogs usually got in the way of the two of you being able to get close. You didn’t mind too much though, Donghee was a wriggler and barely ever slept still, at least you could get a peaceful night’s sleep.

---

Masterlist

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donotexterminateupgradepudding · 4 years

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Why I’m absolutely obsessed with Wilson from “House MD” (part 1)

Seriously, I am obsessed with Wilson. I started watching ‘House MD’, since ‘Hey, I have amazon prime.’ and I was looking for a long series. I had recalled people mentioning the series in passing over the years, and they seemed to love it. But it was on air during my great period of no TV and little pop culture knowledge (2003-2014), where I either owned no TV, no internet at home or limited internet at home.

So into the pop culture TV fandom of ‘House MD’ did I go. . . . and for the most part I overall enjoyed it up through season 6. My personal feelings are that they should have ended it there, 7 got disjointed and 8 was well, only going through the motions of the previous 7.

What did I get out of this the most? That I absolutely love - Wilson who is House’s best friend from some point after his arrival to the staff of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Which happened at some point in the mid-90s.

But really, who wouldn’t love this?

Really, it is that soft smile that gets me every time and his classic professional look.

The House timeline is a bit slippy between all the writers and the length of the series, so, I will not drive my anal retentive self to construct a more accurate timeline. It is clear that yes, they became friends sometime in the 90s, likely early 90s, but that House suggested Wilson apply for his position at some point which he accepted in part, to search for his missing brother.

I quickly became interested in Wilson in the show early on. The first indication was in the pilot episode when House determined that Wilson lied to him to take the case, even though most of his actions indicated that he appeared to be the ‘model’ compassionate and caring doctor.

What really got me interested in him though was S1E5 when it is near Christmas and starts out with Wilson and House at the central desk discussing Dante’s Inferno and charting hell. This is the first episode that Wilson really gets pushy with House and his response to the case as the viewer gets to see a character who tries to understand events though the more emotional response.

The scene is very well shot. Wilson approaches House alone at the desk, again playing around with a piece of paper, two coffees (or some other hot beverage in hand).

I even like the difference in their outfits, Wilson with warm browns while House is wearing all black. Their body language here is interesting. House the normally “I’m right!” is a bit hunched over, while Wilson is the one with his feet up on the desk as he leans back (he’s right this time). We also get an interesting angle where Wilson appears very closed off to the viewer.

Wilson even asks House what he is doing for Christmas while not even making eye contact with him. Wilson’s expression is one of trying to convince House to join him at the holiday dinner at his home with his wife and implied other people. Due to House’s immediate rejection of the offer, Wilson has a brief moment of odd facial expressions ending here before he responds.

That perhaps he’ll come over to House’s place. Which is such a loaded statement. Unable to get House to join him, he pretty much immediately invites himself over to House’s place. This indicates several things that we learn about him, i.) House calls him out on leaving his wife alone ii.) Wilson is likely concerned about House being alone.

Which ends their conversation with Wilson clearly stating that he does not want to talk about his wife who is used to being alone. Highlighted with this expression, a clear, ‘that’s all you get’ House.

He’s obviously not happy with the situation, but even at the cost of it, he’s going to hang out with House instead. After Cuddy wishes both of them a “Merry Christmas!” it leaves House oddly speechless and Wilson is the one to make the remark that it was “sweet” of her.

The action then shifts to Wilson at House’s apartment (oh yes, that never to be seen after season 1, third (?) floor apartment) where they are clearly enjoying Chinese take out, beer and each other’s company with lots of smiles.

These two scenes were the ones which really caught my attention in regards to Wilson. It establishes that he must have more in common with House than the show has revealed to date, and that his relationship with him important enough that he’s risking his marriage (or at least putting a major strain on it) to continue his relationship with House. It also shows that even though Wilson was really keeping House in check during the past few days, that it doesn’t matter once they are away from PPTH.

This also shows us that Wilson is not just this friendly, compassionate character to serve as an exact foil to House as his best friend. No, Wilson’s character is also going to develop as a character who is just as nuanced and flawed as House, but that they complement each other.

The plot moves this quickly forward with S1E7, “Fidelity” about a patient who cheated on her husband. The Diagnostics team show their personalities more in this episode in how they respond to the drama surrounding the patient, while Wilson’s image as ‘Mr. Perfect’ continues to be deconstructed.

House calls Wilson out on his new tie, the green polka dot tie. Apparently, Wilson is as much of a creature of habit as House and he has a preset tie rotation which is his status quo. House notices that this green tie is not a present from his wife (since he somehow knows she doesn’t like green) and that Wilson wants to look pretty. At first, he’s simply listening to House.

But as the evidence begins to pile up, Wilson admits defeat with his eyes long before says anything here. Specifically, this is whenever Wilson doesn’t want to say something or explain further due to the fact that he knows he’s been caught. He always looks away.

I have to commend RSL as an actor, he’s seriously underrated, but incredibly talented. The way that he looks like a teenager caught in a lie here is so good as he has no choice but to smirk at House’s line of reasoning.

Even better yet, is how it is so clear that Wilson thinks he looks handsome in this tie. Cuddy approaches the two of them and House is responding to her. What is Wilson doing? He’s smiling slightly while he adjusts his freakkin’ tie! The tie of seduction.

To keep balance in the conversation, they change to a camera angle where Cuddy is facing the camera and Wilson and House have their back/side to the camera. Clearly, the shots were done in two different takes since it catches Wilson saying something while adjusting his tie again.

I think that they just wanted one shot of RSL doing the tie adjustment, but he likely did it for both takes on the scene at different points in time. Either way, I love the shot above where House is too busy speaking with Cuddy to notice Wilson be like “Hey Cuddy, nice tie eh?”. I think this is pretty clear confirmation that Wilson as early as season 1 shows potential interest in Cuddy, but he can’t do anything about it yet, so he just tests the water by being like “Oh hey. I look handsome.” [touches tie for emphasis]

The episode continues with House attempting to determine who Wilson is looking good for at PPTH. He tries to guess someone in accounting just to rile and bait Wilson after seeing his stylish outfit of the day. I’m personally a fan of Wilson’s stylish outfit which shows again that he’s in a confident mood based on his casual lean into the door frame (if you could call it that, since the glass really isn’t a real door frame).

House insists that his lips may say no, but his shoes say yes. Yet, Wilson continues to banter back with the idea that French shoes can’t be trusted, and as predicted most of his reply is based on him avoiding direct eye contact with House.

House continues his hypothesis and Wilson at first smiles back at him (first image in this post) as he’s just maintaining his status quo look. However, he can’t keep it up and he laughs as he looks down.

What is so interesting is how House continues to push him with who it could be, he continues to laugh and look away from House while keeping his hands in his pockets. Interesting, when Wilson is very emotional, he’ll make strong gestures with his hands. The fact that he’s keeping his hands in his pockets implies to me that he’s trying to be cool with things.

What gets him in trouble is his admission that he “wouldn’t date a patient’s daughter.”

House points out that most married men don’t discuss dating at all, pushing Wilson to finally retort back that there was no date.

He finally admits that he went out to lunch with one of the nurses in his department. The interesting part is how honest and sincere he is and adds on that it was to help her through the tough aspect of the position, emotionally. Which House makes it very clear to the viewer that Wilson has an issue with being nice and implies it gets him into trouble with the ladies.

Wilson makes it clear that he wanted to be nice.

And House points out that his desire to be nice is part of his ‘charm’. This is such an informative statement as it lets the viewer know that this isn’t some sort of ‘one off’, he has a track record of involving himself with women at the hospital with whom he is not in a committed relationship with. This also shows us that House is getting amusement out of the situation that Wilson has placed himself in. It this House being jealous of Wilson’s ability to pretty much pick up anyone? Or that it makes him feel better to tease him?

The conversation is interrupted by Cuddy and they leave things hanging. However, this episode is not done with the deep dive into Wilson’s personal life. Wilson starts off on the offensive about the treatment for the patient who House is certain that cheated on her husband. Wilson believes that people can be ‘good’ in relationships.

This quickly backfires on him, as House uses his own past and current behaviours to discredit Wilson’s own argument. With House’s own line of “you need to tell me that” again gets that soft giggle/laugh from Wilson.

Of course, Wilson is not making eye contact with House as he smugly looks at Wilson for his reaction. This obviously makes Wilson upset as the right hand is waved quite predominately for emphasis and he even punctuates his statement with a wave of the chart in his left hand.

This entire conversation happens as House has a perpetually smug expression. I also find it interesting that they are having this rather morally ‘damming’ conversation in the middle of a busy hallway, which also implies that neither of them care about their public images that much. Or the fact that Wilson is denying his infidelities means it is okay to verbalize it in public.

House is willing to admit that he knows that Wilson loves his wife as he just laughs and sighs back as neither of them can look at each other.

But, the kid gloves come off as House continues the statement that he knows Wilson loves his wife, just like he loved his other wives, providing critical character development and background information. That Wilson has been married and divorced at least two other times. If he had only one ex, House would have said something along the lines of ‘your previous wife’. House pushes it even further to be that Wilson loves all of the women he’s ever loved just like his ex-wives. I love how this line of dialogue tells us so much about his character, he’s a very compassionate person. He also clearly cares about others and he has always approached romantic relationships in such a way that he was very emotionally involved with the person he was seeing.

But Wilson takes great offense to that and it begins the moral argument between them. I love how his body language shifts from loose and smiling to a serious furrowed brow.

Wilson is hurt by House mocking him and the fact that he’s cared about the people he’s been romantically involved with and this makes 100% sense - of course he’d love every person he was intimate with. It is the only way he could connect with them.

However, with Wilson now upset, his entire body language shifts as he tells House that can really be a jerk sometimes. This is interesting as it means that Wilson doesn’t see House as much of a jerk as others do.

Wilson’s argument is that he tries his best to be good so that is what matters and that allows him to ‘get away’ with imperfect behavior in relationships. he isn’t excusing his behaviours, he’s just rationalizing that at his core, he tries his best. Of course, House doesn’t think he has the right to claim to be better.

The flip side is the House viewpoint, since he doesn’t care about anyone, he can say whatever he wants to. But Wilson calls him out that he tries to get away with being an ass since he doesn’t even try to care. House argues back that as long as they both exist it is okay; with Wilson trying to be good, but failing with the right intent and House not giving a damn, but pointing out the truth they could combine their powers.

This joke unfortunately is too much for Wilson and he scoffs at House, sighs loudly and sulks off.

These two episodes are important for establishing the core House-Wilson dynamic as well as their opposing and overlapping parts of their philosophies. Already, the viewer knows that House doesn’t give a damn for social conventions and pleasantries and that Wilson does his best to follow them most of the time. As the show continues, it is clear that Wilson follows many societal norms not because he agrees with them, but because he understands the value that they bring and that they make his own life easier.

The first time House goes to court to fight a patient in S1E9. The only other person who is there to support him is Wilson. Wilson sits behind the defense and points out to House that his personal passion may get him in trouble with the law. It will become a reoccurring theme for Wilson to be the only character in the background to support House. Sure, Cuddy also has his back but Wilson is the constant.

Whenever House digs himself into a deep hole or is at risk of failing at office politics, Wilson is the one to warn him.

The first example of this is with the arrival of Vogler as the new chairman of the board in S1E14. Again, the way this scene was shot lets us know very quickly that we are to pay attention to Vogler and Wilson. Specifically, how rapidly Wilson gets a read and feel for the man. During the opening credits he’s listening to Vogler attentively.

This is a serious neutral expression for him. As Vogler begins his personal story, Wilson is almost frowning before he switches to what could be described as a customer service smile after this scene below.

The way that he goes from a serious look to a friendly, “Oh haha, I’m smiling with you” is uncanny. Once Vogler begins to define his vision for PPTH we get several contemplative and concerned expressions from him. He quickly goes from neutral here:

To a deeper thought of, “hrm, this isn’t sounding too great.”

The shot pans out to the board beginning to applaud the remarks. Interestingly, he isn’t one of the first members to clap nor is he exactly the last, but he lingers on his decision and claps rather politely but not enthusiastically as he looks at Vogler.

What is more telling is his rapid glance away, and towards Cuddy to his right. I wish we knew if Cuddy made eye contact with him or not. The best shot though is the final one, his reaction to Vogler’s announcement that there will be ‘big’ changes. And this is a classic “OH FUCK!”, response from him as he fake smiles as he already knows that it will mean for him, the Oncology Department Head and . . .

. . . more importantly, his best friend, House, is royally fucked with this guy in charge. Since it is already obvious that House blows at office politics. This again establishes the push and pull of their friendship as both men have strengths and weaknesses that compliment each other.

Now, before going on any further, I want to stop and pause about how I think the writers were more interesting with this House-Wilson dynamic.

If “House MD” suffered from lazy writing to meet many of the criteria/elements of a 90s-2000s show, I know exactly what they would have done. They would have made Wilson a female character. House’s overly analytical, caustic attitude would have been balanced by a friendly, in touch with her emotions type of character, a Jane Wilson instead. She’d be outwardly modest, cute, but not sexy. Her emotional state would be reflected in her dating woes with men, who she’d fall hard and fast for and would be unable to keep them because she’s too attached to House as a friend. She would be the trope of the ‘saving female who can’t save herself’.

Thankfully, the creative team did not follow this predictable trope and instead, gave us the Wilson that we see, the sensitive male character who based on sweeping societal norms and generalizations would be seen as a female character. Furthermore, if you are one of those people who is into the MBTI personality classification, he types out as the rarest of the male types - the INFJ male; both when you look at the 16 personalities website and the writer’s guide to the MBTI.

Links to both here: https://www.16personalities.com/infj-personality

https://mbtifiction.com/2015/09/14/dr-james-wilson/

A subtle nod to the fact that Wilson is ‘filling in’ for a female character is shown in S1E15 when House is ‘gifted’ with the ‘65 Corvette by the New Jersey mafia. It shows that both of them are morally bankrupt enough to make use of the car with House at the wheel and Wilson giving him a hard time about his driving skills in the passenger seat.

Even more so, House tries to get Wilson to shut up while Wilson is laughing next to him, as his backseat driving is still appreciated by House as we see his subtle smile at the same time.

Again, it leads us to ask why is Wilson enjoying a fun car ride with House, when he could be at home spending time with his current spouse. No, it isn’t like Wilson is actively avoid marital conflict to hang out with House. . . .

Lastly, Wilson even asks House if he’d be willing to lend him the Corvette with a very excited facial expression that it directed at the back of House’s head as they walk in the hallway.

Wilson may try to do the best that he can, but when something is in proxy to House, he forgets the moral and emotional response and choose the analytical and rational response. ‘Cause my best friend is the one who gained this car illegally. So sure, I can rationalize wanting to borrow it, I mean I didn’t get this ‘gift’.

S1E17 has the introduction of our Barack Obama stand in character. Wilson is the only person on staff who questions House’s change of opinion on the man’s HIV test results. This leads to Wilson’s awesome statement that House didn’t just believe him, he believed in him. With the fist pump to match. House hangs his head in shame since he knows he’s about to get a good teasing from Wilson.

I loved how Wilson realizes it has to do with House’s current team. The show makes a point that the Diagnostics team of Chase, Cameron and Foreman are unusual in the fact that they complete the full terms of their fellowships. Chase even seemed to have a longer one since he got fired, but was the most senior of the team members. Sure Cameron quit in protest, but it also is implied to have done at least the full amount of her term. Wilson knows that this team is important to House.

He knows that they influence him more than other teams as they actually have gotten closer to him than any over team to date. In this instance, he specifically thinks it is Cameron’s influence which House tries to shrug off. I love his line of inviting House to come over tonight to watch old movies with him and cry. Since we know Wilson totally cries when watching movies. But what unsettles House is the Cameron bit, Wilson states that he may have already put the moves on her and House tries to shrug it off. This is the dead give away that House likes Cameron on some level and Wilson has won the lotto. House has some sort of interest in Cameron. On some level.

He’s too amused that House does have some sort of crush. Or maybe a “House-crush” as in the type of crush House has. Either way, Wilson is giggling in delight at a very awkward House escaping into the elevator.

The next great Wilson scene is his reaction to House pissing Volger off by defeating the spirit of the law with the letter of the law. He gave a speech. A terrible speech. First off, Wilson looks at House with curiosity while Cuddy is concerned. While Cuddy has potential shock, Wilson has bit of awe that House is being, well House.

The best part is when House seals his fate. Cuddy looks like she could murder him if she could while Wilson is hiding his face in his hand, which if you watch the scene really closely, he’s trying hard to not laugh and smirking. Sure, he can be like *sigh* House . . . but Wilson is keeping himself professional. Despite, likely not being too surprised.

Cuddy has a feeling of exasperation while Wilson is smirking as he tries to hold it together. Yeah, I saw that smirking Wilson. You are both amazed and concerned that your best friend dug himself into an even deeper hole.

But hey, it was hilarious!

Of course, House’s reckless behavior does catch up to him by S1E18, “Babies and Bathwater”. The first time Wilson appears he looks worried, pulling House out of the Diagnostics common room with messy hair. This isn’t his usual cute swoopy/swishy hair, this is true concerned fluff. This means he’s likely been ruffling his hair in concern with his left hand, since he is left handed (RSL is left handed). Either way, I like the way that his appearance is just subtly off, but enough to tell us that he’s worried about something.

His concerned face, in combination with the fluffy hair tells us several things. First off, Wilson knows that Volger will make a move that will be smart. House blows it off stating that he’s survived all the previous changes in the hospital and since Wilson is on the board, Volger can’t get rid of House.

Second, unlike House who is banking on Wilson protecting him, Wilson is really worried as he senses this won’t be as easy as House expects.

This then plays out with the emergency board meeting where House is the only item on the agenda. At first, it looks like everything will be okay. Wilson is prepared and points out the issue with the vote on House’s dismissal. I would like to note that in the show itself, Volger does not follow proper protocol, as he brings the item of House to the table and no one actually seconds his motion. Technically, I’d expect Wilson to point out there was no second to Volger’s motion. He seems like the type of character to know his Robert’s Rules of Order inside and out. Either way, the way that he fidgets and pretends to not care about Volger’s mini-speech about how PPTH should be a business drives him nuts. His body language is clear that Wilson does not like him.

After the vote fails, Wilson points out that according to the bylaws there is a 24 hour period before they can bring any issue before the board again. Several other members of the board are smirking, as they likely support Wilson, but aren’t as confident as he is in his defiance of Volger. I also wonder if Cuddy and Wilson had an agreement to have Wilson be the one to play interference. We know that Cuddy bet with House to not take Vicodin for a week was Wilson’s idea, not hers. He looks a bit confident as he points out that Volger just can’t ask him to leave and have the vote without him.

And even though Wilson is a fairly pragmatic guy and an expert at office politics, he is totally outmaneuvered by Volger. This shows us that Wilson may be very good at these sorts of things, he lacks the ruthless attitude that Volger has. This makes sense, Wilson became a doctor because he’s a caring person. He wouldn’t be as cutthroat as Volger is, willing to remove Wilson (House’s biggest advocate) even though he’s arguably one of the best department heads at PPTH.

He switches from a look here where he’s putting everything together.

To a complete look of sadness, knowing that despite being an excellent doctor and colleague, his friendship with House just cost him his position on the board. He also knows that not everyone in that room is going to support him and he likely feels betrayed by other members of the board.

The scene has Wilson leave the room and we don’t know what happens until the next day when he is packing up his office. House isn’t quite sure what is going on as he is emotionally is tossing things in boxes, with an angry pen/pencil toss into a box.

And we get here, after the pen toss the angry Wilson face.

Which is interesting, since angry Wilson doesn’t look very angry. His anger towards House isn’t normal; he looks sad and disappointed that he was the target of Volger’s wrath, collateral damage in the quest to fire House. His sad puppy face shows that he wanted House to do more for him. We learn that at this point in his life two things matter to him; i.) his job at PPTH and ii.) his friendship with House. Yet, when he was faced with taking the fall with House, he accepted the chance to resign from PPTH as he was too emotional over things. Wilson usually is in touch with his emotions and understands them, but when all alone and feeling it, he makes the rash decision to leave.

House confirms to him that Wilson’s actions meant something to him, even though Wilson knows he’d still do what he did regardless of the present outcome. That’s how well they know each other.

Wilson shows his dark side when he smiles telling House that he’ll be joining him soon enough.

Of course, House wants to still know if there are any clinical trials and asks Wilson if he can still help him out.

After having his back turned to House he turns around halfway to look at him with a taught facial expression. The body language here is clear, ever since House walked into Wilson’s office, Wilson has been the one in charge, House has been hunched forward a bit and looks up towards Wilson or even talks to his back.

Now, he’s got his hands on his hips while House asks, but again looking up at Wilson. You honestly have to give it to Hugh Laurie and Robert Sean Leonard, they nail the body language between these two characters, even if he doesn’t verbally say it, House will submit to Wilson and shows it through his more meek postures, letting Wilson know that he’s in charge and the better one at that moment.

Of course, Wilson will look into things for House. Because that is the type of person Wilson is. And their body language in this scene shows that Wilson knows that House is going to want to save his patient. And Wilson is doing his own job even if it is his last day.

However, Cuddy saves the day and the boys are able to celebrate in House’s office. Wilson is sitting in House’s chair, while House leans against his side furniture. Foreman and Chase are sitting at the two chairs opposite of Wilson. Everything about this shows so much about the Wilson-House friendship. House has difficulty standing and being comfortable, yet Wilson is sitting in his chair.

I wish we could know if Wilson took the chair knowing that House owed him for almost leaving PPTH or if House let Wilson take the chair for the same reason. Either way, Wilson has House’s blessing to sit in his chair.

This also allows for an excellent angle of Wilson watching Cuddy chug her drink as he’s the character who makes an audible swallow. You can tell he’s definitely reminding himself to never piss Cuddy off.

I’d also hazard a guess that he’s still checking out and in awe of Cuddy. Sure, he’s still married, but Wilson is always looking. And, I’d like to point out that since the beginning of the season the item that has been absent from Wilson’s hand is a wedding ring. Not entirely sure if he doesn’t see the need to wear one on marriage number 3 or if he’s just not that kind of guy, or if it keeps him open to other possibilities.

What are you thinking Wilson? I’m old enough to know that when I meet new people if there is an interesting guy, to look at his hands. Again, not all people wear wedding bands, but it is a very obvious signal to people who don’t know you. It sends a clear signal to people, and Wilson is a character who does not take this easy step to signal that he’s married.

This episode was critical as it really lays down the foundations for the parameters of the friendship between House and Wilson. It makes it clear that these two men care about each other; I would safely say that they love each other.

Now, the nature of the love between them is very debatable. I confidently feel that they at least love each other as close friends do. That the friend in question is a main part of your life and that you care for and worry about the other person. That person also lets you show your less than flattering side, which is a really important part of Wilson’s friendship with House. He doesn’t have to play nice with House. He can be more open and relaxed without fear for venting his feelings to him. This comes out in the numerous comments that Wilson will utter over the years during banter with House. If he were to be as sarcastic as he is with House alone, he’d be in trouble, but he keeps that side separate.

This indicates that as much as House needs Wilson to keep him from getting too crazy, Wilson needs to have House to not explode from staying calm all the time.

But, this is not a meta to deconstruct the House-Wilson relationship, this is just me gushing over how much I like Wilson and how he tries to support House in his own Wilson way.

This happens Wilson figures out that Cameron is coming back due to her date with House. He has such a look of excitement when he figures out the House gave into Cameron’s request. This means that his observation that House at least finds Cameron attractive has him stoked. He hops off of the table and turns to face House to confirm things and he’s far to giddy. Then again, he knows his best friend hasn’t been on a date in over 5 years so he’s rooting for anything.

He knows House well enough that House is attempting to rationalize that he was forced into the date. It is also interesting to note that the random patient tries to mock House with the ‘old’ if you don’t sleep with a hot girl you must be gay, which clearly doesn’t work on House or Wilson who both roll their eyes, ignoring the comment. He may give House a hard time about goofing off, but he comes back to steal the portable TV to continue watching the game even though House left feeling embarrassed. House doesn’t even try to fight back to keep his TV.

He emerges a bit later, starting off by telling House that the ballgame is over, before he sniffs House to determine what was spilled on him. These guys really are best friends if you are not even bothered by your best friend of any gender getting this up close and personal with you. Instead, Wilson just tells him to calm down that it is just apple juice.

With the putative Cameron-House date, Wilson springs into action as the overly-protective best friend. He manages to find Cameron alone and asks her if she is sure about the date with House as he wants to make sure no one gets hurt. Cameron doesn’t see his expression here, when she says she’ll be fine; Wilson’s look of concern is about how things will go down for House.

Wilson doesn’t want to see House hurt again, since he thinks if he is hurt again, House will give up on dating altogether. A mindset that I myself have embraced from time to time. I think at this point, Wilson knows that Cameron is House’s ‘type’ and he wants to make sure that House has a shot at a relationship.

To make sure things will go as smoothly as possible, he is at House’s apartment as House gets dressed and is freaking out in a “House” way about the date. Wilson’s facial expression here is somewhat annoyed as he knows that House does understand some human interactions. As House did date Stacy for 5 years though he can’t help but give him shit by saying the last time House dated disco had just died.

Again, instead of being at home, Wilson is laying on House’s couch, skimming the newspaper to give him the moral support he needs for his date. This leads to his infamous declaration that he has known moves that are guaranteed ‘panty peelers’. This facial expression says it all, I’m proud of my skills and I have it down to a science; compliment her random items of clothing and move onto the DHA: dreams-hopes-aspirations. God, I love this bit, Wilson has things so well thought out that he’s able to distill things down to a quick abbreviation.

This also tells us that Wilson thrives on the ‘possibility’ of a relationship. That he gets some sort of rush from trying to get a woman into bed. If Wilson had been fired by Volger, he really should have started a career for dating and relationship advice. Not as one of those sexist male pick-up experts, but as how to pick-up chicks as a respectful dude. He’d honestly make tons more money, though his lack of House interactions would likely bore him to death. He also goes onto mention that he has condoms in case House needs him. This is such a funny statement, as it implies that Wilson has them to be prepared and by extension as a married man should not have them. Or that Wilson is officially acting like House’s dad in this instance like “Okay, son, we’ve had the talk about the prom tonight. You’ve got the corsage for the girl, and make sure to use condoms.” Which is totally how Wilson looks in this scene here.

Hands on hips, big smile, he literally looks like he’s encouraging his teenage son to be a good man for his date. This is a case where Wilson is the experienced adult in this situation. Based on his body language, he’s also really rooting for House. Wilson wants the date with Cameron to go well. He wants House to get laid and learn how to move on in a relationship. He wants House to try to be happy. And Cameron is not a bad starting point. We know that House likes intelligent women and Wilson seems to suck at not messing around or dating within the workplace so he isn’t going to be against this.

Plus, this really establishes House’s ‘type’ brunettes, he isn’t too picky about the rest of the woman, but he likes brown hair. Again, one could argue that Wilson is also House’s type. Or the fact that as the show progresses he makes comments about men who are attractive (but again, not a part of this meta).

It does show that both Wilson and House are romantics at heart, since House went for cheesy knowing that Cameron would like cheesy. Really, after watching their date scene for a third time, I’d say that House goes for the rejection Cameron approach because he was afraid of what would happen if he did start dating her. He knows he’s attracted to her, the fact that Wilson knows that he’s attracted to her is really the verification that he needed.

That’s why the next day, Wilson is so keen to know how the date went. He has to hope that House gives it a try. Since Wilson wants House to try to be happy or in this case maybe just content. He’s tired of watching his friend recoil from social connections and he likely grows tired of being the only link that House has to humanity.

And I’ll have to stop here and pick up with another part since I haven’t even gotten through Season 1 yet.

#house md #james wilson #wilson #infj man

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