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midgardianweasley · 3 years

Note

I‘d love to see you write an angsty fanfic with Natasha x reader (male or female is up to you) with a bad ending of your choice.

No pressure of course ✨

as requested Violet!! I hope it's okay<3

How could you do this to me?

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha hasn’t been around recently and Y/N’s been really missing her company, but that changes when some CCTV footage is discovered.

Warnings: Cheating, swearing.

Word Count: 3.6k

there was an attempted proof read, but sorry in advance if i've missed anything!!

message/ask to be added to the taglist<3

Requests are open!

You weren’t surprised when you woke up to an empty bed once again, the space beside you missing a red-head assassin. You’d grown used to the sight of bedsheets spread lazily on your side of the bed, almost completely thrown off of the edge. It wasn’t unusual, however, the feeling of disappointment that lingered in your chest every morning never eased with time.

‘I’m just off to train, baby.’

‘I need to go and see Fury about this next mission, you go back to sleep’

‘I forgot to debrief the team last night, so we need to have a meeting this morning instead.’

‘Off to get some breakfast, my love. I’ll save you some eggs.’

Those were the typical reasons you received whenever you questioned where she was going in such a hurry in the mornings. You knew she was busy, of course you did. But, you missed the mornings when she’d pull you back into her chest, refusing to let you leave until you gave her a few kisses, which never ended up just being kisses, but you always gave in either way.

Now that you think of it, you can’t remember the last time she held you. Not properly. She used to hold you in a death grip, so tight that you could almost feel her heartbeat in your own chest. Nowadays, you were lucky to get more than a few taps on the back, it felt like you were being congratulated for something.

You’d always brushed it off, thinking that you must’ve been selfish for wanting so much of her attention, you had to be more understanding of how demanding her job is. It wasn’t like you never tried, you did, everyday. It would just be nice to feel her love for you a little more, even if it was just a quick peck before she left in the mornings.

“Hey Wan’, Hey Vis” You smiled at the pair as they stood at the kitchen counter, cracking eggs and buttering some toast. They loved cooking together, Wanda always told you how cute it was when Vision was trying to learn, especially after his fiasco with the Paprika.

“Hi Y/N, want something to eat?” Wanda handed you some toast, which you took gratefully, slowly munching on it.

Vision looked up as though to engage in conversation, when he then looked around in confusion. “Where’s Ms. Romanoff?”. You shrugged.

“I’m not sure, I think she’s training, I’ve not heard from her yet.”

You were looking at Vision, but it was near impossible to miss the sympathetic look Wanda was giving you. She knew about how you’d been feeling with Natasha not being around so much, she had tried to help, to hint to Nat that you’d been feeling a bit neglected for a while now, but she hadn’t gotten very far.

“Nat, nat, I just think that maybe you should spend a little more time with Y/N” It was obvious the assassin wasn’t listening to her, shrugging it off and trying to walk past the witch, only to have a hand pressed on her chest to push her backwards.

“Wanda, I need to go, I'm running late.”

“you’re always running somewhere. I'm sure Fury, or Tony or whoever you’re in such a rush to see, can wait. You haven’t seen your girlfriend in forever.”

“I saw her last night.”

“Crawling into bed in the early hours of the morning and sleeping next to her, isn’t seeing her, Nat.”

Her words fell on deaf ears as she watched her friend turn around and walk the other way. She could’ve used her powers to stop her, she didn’t see a point though. She wasn’t listening, and she couldn’t force her to.

“It's fine though, honestly! I can hang out with you guys today if you’re not busy?”

the couple shared a look of awkwardness before looking back towards you.

“Actually, we were going to go into town and do some sightseeing. You’re welcome to join us though!” She smiled, not wanting you to be alone, which you were grateful for, but you couldn’t intrude.

“No no, don’t worry! I think I've got something Tony wanted me to check out in the Lab, now that I think about it.” You didn’t. “You guys have fun though! take pictures!” You winked, knowing full well that your best friend didn’t believe you, she hesitated before nodding her head in agreement and beginning to walk off with Vision in tow.

__________________

An hour or so went by, you still hadn’t seen Natasha at all, or anyone, really. They all seemed to have disappeared to do their own thing, leaving you to find yours. So, you found yourself wandering into your lab, where you found Tony observing the screens with an endless amount of data changing every couple of seconds. You never really understood how he made sense of it all so quickly, but you’d always been intrigued nonetheless.

He must’ve sensed someone was there, as he broke away from his train of thought and glanced over towards you, fully acknowledging how your shoulders were slumped and your eyes lacked your usual sparkle. Tony alway had a soft spot for you, he’d known you for years, taking on a role similar to a father’s. Seeing you look so defeated recently, it’d hurt him a little more than he cared to admit.

Gesturing for you to come in with a gentle smile before moving and adjusting various chunks of metal on the table in the centre of the lab.

“Ah ah!” He tapped the bridge of his nose

“You can’t be serious! Tony I-”

“Nope”

“I’m a grown woman!” You laughed in disbelief at his

“Yes, you are, and I do not plan on taking said grown woman to medical because she got a shot of electricity through her eyeball. Put them on.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up a pair of the obnoxiously large lab goggles and put them over your face. He really took being a ‘father figure’ too seriously sometimes. With your goggles on, you took yourself over to where he stood, hoping to help him out somehow and keep yourself occupied.

You watched him move around blueprints on the screen above. “So, whatcha working on?”

“Well, remember that last mission we went on? How that ended?”

“Well, considering I had to get bullets removed for the last two hours, I’d say I remember pretty well.”

His face cringed slightly “Yeah, that’s the one. I’m basically just trying to layer the suits more, but keep the weight to a minimum so that there’s more protection, but the speed and mobility is almost, if not, the same.” He pondered, mind wandering off again to try and figure out how he could make this work.

Suddenly springing to action, he started assembling some pieces together, chucking some aside and reaching for different tools he required.

Looking towards you, he tilted his head “Can you pass me the-”

His sentence was interrupted. “Hey Tony, hey-” Banner. You didn’t mind Bruce, he was always quite quiet and polite most of the time, a little awkward, but, when you have a literal Hulk inside of you, it’s probably the least of your concerns.

You waved at the Avenger. “Hi Bruce” You gave him a friendly smile, for it to be returned with an awkward gaze, which he tried to quickly shove off.

“Yeah, uh, hi, Y/N. W-what brings you here?”

“Oh, no particular reason, I wanted something to do so I thought I'd come down, just pay a visit.” He nodded, acknowledging your words but appearing a little on edge, almost.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked “You look a little pale?”

“Yeah, yeah n-no I'm fine, just a-a bit tired.” He stuttered before suddenly directing his attention towards the man standing beside you. “How’s it coming along, Ton’?”

“Not bad, I have a wonderful assistant to help me out.” he nudged you playfully.

“Haha, yeah. She’s great. Anyways, you seem to have a good hold on things, so, I’ll leave you to it and come back later.”

Neither of you had managed to get a word out before Banner had walked out and was already out of sight. You turned to face Tony again.

“Was that- did you find that weird at all?”

“I find most of the people in this compound weird.”

It was a serious question, but you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the millionaire’s response.

“I do pride myself on it.”

“As you should. You’re the weirdest one.”

“Hey!” You slapped his arm. “Rude!”

“I’m kidding! Now, pass me that screwdriver, goggles.”

Chuckling, you threw him the screwdriver and zoned out thinking about Bruce’s weird behaviour. While Tony was right, the majority of us are weird. You couldn’t stop thinking about how unusual it was, even for him. You put it to the back of your mind though, focusing back on what the man beside you was working on. You’re sure it’s fine.

________________________

You thought you were going crazy. First you had Nat, who was disappearing every chance she got, Then you had Bruce who couldn’t look you in the eye and when you finally believed it couldn’t get any weirder, you picked up on some strange vibes from Steve.

“Oh finally! I was beginning to think no one else actually lives here.” You approached Steve who seemed to be walking and talking with Bruce, both taking a step back when they looked towards you.

“Hey Y/N, we were just-”

“We were just about to go and have a shower. Training.” Steve cut in, earning himself a glare and a shake of the head from the scientist beside him, subtle, so you hadn’t noticed, otherwise you would’ve questioned it.

“Oh? You were training too, Bruce?”

“Well, I-” He glanced at Steve. “Yeah. Yeah, I, uh, wanted to get some combat down, just in case I needed it.”

“Considering our last mission, I think we all should.” the super soldier quickly added, sending you an enthusiastic smile, which you had returned. You went to speak again, possibly inquiring as to whether or not they knew where your girlfriend was, but you hadn't had the chance as the pair of them quickly rushed off, muttering something about catching you later, leaving you on your own, once again.

What the hell was going on?

_____________________

Feeling defeated, you trudged your way into your bedroom, just wanting to shower, get into bed and sleep, and hope for some form of normality.

What you hadn’t expected, was to walk in and see the back of a familiar figure sporting the black suit she practically lived in, tying her hair into a low bun and beginning to change into some more comfortable clothes.

You were dating, so it wasn’t new to see Nat changing, but you still thought it would be decent to make her aware of your presence. The small “ahem” was enough to make her spin round and flash you a smile, her pearly white teeth on show.

“Hi babe, i’m just changing for bed. You okay?”

The words felt so unfamiliar to you, having not heard them in what felt like forever. Still, you decided to humour it.

“Yeah, yeah I'm okay. A bit of a weird day is all.”

She laughed, returning to laying out her clothes. “Well, we are surrounded by some weird people.”

“That’s what Tony said.”

There was an atmosphere in the air that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It had always felt comfortable with Natasha, you would describe her company as being like a safety blanket, enveloping you with warmth and a sense of security. This felt different. It didn’t feel familiar anymore, it was like you were face to face with a stranger and the more you looked at her, the more it upset you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Natasha put her palms on your cheeks, bringing your Y/E/C eyes to meet her emerald ones in the process. You hadn’t realised that tears had fallen until the pad of her thumbs gently brushed them away.

“I just, it sounds so stupid.”

“Tell me.”

You let out a sigh, eyes beginning to dart around the room. “It just feels like I’ve never seen you, I don’t remember the last time we’ve spoken and it’s, it’s been lonely.” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your response, lips falling into a frown, but you were quick to speak again.

“It hasn’t just been you though, I understand that work gets in the way, but, it felt like some members of the team were acting differently around me.”

“Really? Like who?”

“Well, I mean, Bruce could barely bring himself to say anything more than a sentence to me and I tried to speak to Steve just before I came here and he rushed off like his life depended on it. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being a bit paranoid.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Detka, I wouldn’t worry about it.” She whispered, hands pulling you forward with ease to bring your lips together. You smiled at the contact, you’d missed it.

You were so caught up in it, that you hadn’t noticed you were the only one smiling.

It wasn’t long before the both of you were interrupted by an electronic voice in the room.

“Miss Romanoff, Miss Y/L/N.” It was F.R.I.D.A.Y. “Mr Stark is asking for you both in the conference room.”

“Alright, thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y., we’re on our way.” Your girlfriend replied, rushing away from the kiss and leading you to the door.

Why was everyone in such a rush today?

_______________________

“So, I was messing around with some things in the lab, and I think I've found a solution to our suit issue. It’s still a work in progress because I'll need to tweak some things and then tailor them blah blah blah, but I thought I'd show you guys the latest. JARVIS?”

“Bringing up footage 182.”

While you waited for the video to be up and running, you took note of everyone sitting around you. For the most part, they looked tired, though you don’t blame them, it was pretty late.

Shuffling to your left, you held Natasha’s hand in yours, sending her a loving gaze before resting your head on her shoulder, just content that she was close by. She sat a little straighter at the action, careful not to push you off of her, but not entirely relaxing either.

The large tv screen lit up, a view from the corner of the lab came into sight where you could see Tony installing different wires and pieces of loose metal into the suit, watching it light up as he did so. He was in the middle of explaining what he was doing as the recording went on, when the screen suddenly turned to static, black and white lines taking over the screen.

“JARVIS?”

“Minor technical issue, working on it, Mr Stark.”

You caught Wanda’s eye across the table, a playful smirk plastered onto her face at the mishap, watching the billionaire get stressed over a television. You couldn’t help but laugh at the words flying from his mouth as he started hitting the remote, as if he was someone who didn’t understand technology.

It wasn’t long before an image appeared back on the screen, however, this wasn’t the same recording. This is from the gym. It focused on one of the square mats in the middle of the room where two people were sparring. One of which, you immediately recognised as Natasha.

The other person definitely wasn’t a girl, their hair was short and muscles so big you were worried that one slice would be the end. It zoomed in a little, and from the blonde hair and dark blue outfit, you pieced together who it was.

“Oooh, Black Widow and the SuperSoldier, one vs one. Now this should be interesting.” A previously tired looking Sam clapped his hands and leaned forward, now fully invested in the scene in front of him.

You turned to Nat, who now looked a little paler than she did before.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, don’t tell me, you lost this spar?” You joked, expecting her to join in and tease you back. Instead, her face displayed an emotion you weren’t entirely sure of.

Before you could question it, you noticed the room fall silent. Not even a breath could be heard in the room. Your head turned slowly, meeting a mixture of shocked and sympathetic faces. And that was when you saw it.

Nat had kissed Steve, and he didn’t stop her.

If you weren't aware of your heartbeat before, you couldn’t be now, for it felt like it had completely stopped. Your jaw fell as your eyes filled with tears, only worsening the longer you saw the two of them on the screen. It was only turned off when a third person walked into view, not needing to ponder on who it could be, you immediately faced guilty stares. Three of them.

“You- you kissed-” You stuttered, incapable of forming a sentence towards your teammate. “And, you knew?” Your voice broke, tears now beginning to find their way down your cheeks for the second time as Bruce couldn’t bring himself to answer you.

You swiftly rose out of your seat, attempting to keep yourself composed until you could be alone.

“Baby-” Natasha murmured, trying to take hold of your hand, which you snatched back before she could lay a finger on it.

“Don’t.”

“Please-”

“Leave me alone.” You spat, speed walking out of what now felt like an overcrowded room.

You didn’t hear it, you’d left too early, but if you had stayed, you would’ve heard the team give Nat and Steve the scolding of their lives, mainly from Wanda and Tony, telling them how disappointed they were in them both. How they’d be lucky if you were to forgive them for what they did.

________________________

You don’t know how long you’d been sitting on your shared bed for. It could’ve been an hour, it could’ve been a couple of minutes. All you knew, was that you couldn’t stay in this room much longer, looking at the picture frames and the shared wardrobe, it just felt painful.

So, you walked over to your wardrobe and gathered every item of your clothing into your arms, lacking any care for if there were hangers or labels in the way, and chucked them on the bed and started to chuck it all into a suitcase intended for holidays but, you don’t see that happening anytime soon.

The sound of sniffles and rustling was all you could hear in the room, so much so that it was suffocating, and it didn’t help when you heard the door creak open.

“What are you doing?” A voice squeaked. Natasha stood beside the door, fidgeting with her fingers as she anxiously bounced from one foot to the other. You didn’t even bother to look up in her direction, focusing solely on getting out of there as soon as you could.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, I didn’t mean it.” You scoffed at her attempt at an explanation. “I love you.”

That’s what made you whip your head to see her red and puffy eyes, if this was any other situation, you would’ve rushed over and engulfed her in a hug, tell her that everything would be okay and you’re there for her. Now? All you felt was anger.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have kissed him.”

“I didn’t know-”

You stood up straight, almost laughing at her choice of words. “You didn’t know? Bullshit. I’m pretty fucking sure everyone is aware when they kiss someone. Did you know when you were kissing me then? Or did you not know that either?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“I don’t think I care.”

She tries to step closer to you, only for you to take one back, holding your hand out, indicating for her to stop.

“No. no, you know what Nat, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to treat me like a stranger for weeks, like I'm sharing a bed with someone I don’t know, for you to then kiss someone else and expect me to forgive you. You have no idea how I've felt these past weeks, blaming myself and thinking I was selfish for wanting your time. It’s funny, really.”

She looked away from you, regret taking over her features, both of you now having tear stains covering your rosy red cheeks.

You broke the silence once again. “Was that the first time?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Y/N-” She pleaded

“Answer the question, Natasha.” You spoke through gritted teeth.

Silence returned to the four walls.

“Get out.”

“No, no, we-” She stepped forward, only to halt herself when she realised what she was doing.

“There is no ‘we’. We’re done. I’ll have my stuff moved back into my room by tonight, though I'm sure it won’t make much of a difference to you.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Whatever.”

She walked out of the room, hesitating slightly, wondering if it’s worth staying and trying to figure out whatever this is. She shook her head to herself, knowing she’d fucked up. There wasn’t a fight anymore. It was done.

Collapsing on the bed, the feeling washed over you again as the finality of it all set in. You didn’t stop though. You packed your clothes, your perfumes, all of your loose hair ties and left the room with only one thought on your mind.

Natasha won’t even notice the difference.

Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @wandaromanova

#Natasha romanoff #Natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha x reader #Natasha romanoff x Y/N #Natasha romanova #Natasha x fem!reader #Natasha romanoff angst #Natasha angst #Black widow #Black widow x reader #Marvel #Natasha romanoff imagine #Natasha romanoff oneshot #Natasha romanoff fanfiction #Natasha romanoff smut #Natasha romanoff fluff #Natasha romanoff x fem!reader

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kenbunshokus · 3 years

Text

eggnemies to lovers

nami/vivi, zoro/sanji | 7k words (best viewed on: ao3)

My (20F) Date (21M) keeps getting into fights with a cook at Baratie. submitted 6 months ago by u/throwawaypinwheel

(Or, the one where Sanji is a diner cook, Vivi is their waitress, and Zoro and Nami accidentally became each other’s wingman.)

Zoro glares at his plate as if his omelette has just challenged him to a duel. Nami tries her best to focus on the map she’s working on—this one’s a particularly difficult homework from her Intro to Coastal Navigation class—and pointedly does not look up.

“Holy shit,” Zoro mutters under his breath, poking at the offending egg, “Nami, I swear—”

“We are not having this conversation again—”

“I told you,” Zoro plows on, “that fucking cook is doing this on purpose.”

Nami takes a deep breath. Cartography is a delicate art, and Nami aims to be a professional. She takes her favorite pencil and elegantly traces over the coastline of Cocoyashi Village, poised and collected and calm. She’s not going to take the bait and ruin her map, no matter how much Zoro is sulking over an egg—

She sighs. “Zoro, I’m pretty sure there’s just been some mix-up with the orders.”

Zoro huffs at that, clearly disbelieving. “For the third time this week?”

“This isn’t exactly a five-star establishment,” she points out, and adds, reasonably, calmly, in an attempt to find some semblance of peace, “I doubt the cook of some no-name diner even knows your name.”

The words seem to have brought about the opposite effect, because now there’s a dangerous glint in Zoro’s eyes as he mutters, “well, he’s about to find out,” before standing up and shamelessly yelling, “ OI! COOK! ”

Nami drives the pencil through her map.

r/relationship_advice

My (20F) Date (21M) keeps getting into fights with a cook at Baratie. submitted 6 months ago by u/throwawaypinwheel

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My (20F) Date (21M) keeps getting into fights with a cook at Baratie.

submitted 6 months ago by /u/throwawaypinwheel

I know this sounds really weird, but here it is:

This guy and I have been on a couple of dates. We’d been friends long before we started trying this going out thing, so he isn’t a total stranger to me, and I’ve long known him as a pretty calm guy. Chimes in once a week in the group chat, grunts a lot during conversations, you know — one of those quiet, meditating types. He’s only competitive when it comes to his favorite sport (he’s a professional kendo athlete), but other than that he tends not to care about what other people think about him. I’ve never seen him respond to anyone’s taunts or getting worked up by a stranger’s words.

Except at Baratie.

Any time we’re out he wants to go to this diner called Baratie down in Grand Line. I don’t really care about the food, but the tables there are big enough for me to do work (Maritime Science major here—lots of stationeries and large maps to work with). But that became impossible once he and this one cook started chirping at each other every time we went there. Date complained about his eggs one time, because he likes them a little runny and they were served hard. The cook responded by giving him scrambled eggs. When he brought it up again, the cook served him two hardboiled eggs. It was kind of funny to be honest, but my date wasn’t able to laugh it off. When we left, he was in a bad mood.

This is the crazy part: he keeps going back.

In fact, he keeps going back and ordering eggs and getting into fistfights with the same cook. It’s almost a ritual at this point. He orders runny eggs, the cook serves him some other version of eggs, and then they beat the shit out of each other. We never eat out at any other places now; it’s just Baratie every fucking week. Sometimes he even goes there without me.

I’ve tried to talk to him about it a few times, but he keeps saying it’s a matter of principle. I’ve told him to just talk to the manager, but he just waved me off. Apparently that cook hasn’t yet made him the correct runny eggs, but it’s like he spends the week learning new ways of preparing eggs to piss my date off.

My question is — this is weird, right? Like, I’m not really concerned about the fighting part — he’s never been physical with me and I never once felt threatened by him — but what’s with the obsession ? They’re just eggs, aren’t they?

Is this indicative of something deeper? Should I reconsider going exclusive with this guy?

When Nami looks up from her map this time, Zoro has already stalked off to the kitchen. This isn’t new or remarkable in any way, except the fact that he almost ran into one of the waitresses, who immediately clutched her tray against her chest and watched his retreating back warily.

Zoro didn’t even spare her a glance. What a brute. Nami’s going to add to his debt later for that.

“Hey,” Nami calls out towards the waitress, waving at her to come by her table, “I’m sorry, uh…”

“Vivi,” the waitress fills in with a polite smile.

“Right, Vivi—I’m Nami,” Nami replies, finding herself nervous all of a sudden, because up close like this, holy fuck is the waitress so pretty, with long blue hair and silver-sharp eyes. Nami clears her throat. “Uh, I just want to say sorry about his—his whole deal with your Cook. Zoro—that’s his name—he’s usually really chill, so I don’t know what’s happening here.”

Vivi thankfully chuckles at that, seemingly finding the situation more hilarious than threatening. Good. There’s also something about that laughter that makes Nami feel like she’s fourteen again, full of butterflies and all too small for everything, but she tries not to think too hard about that yet.

“In your friend’s defense,” Vivi says, “Sanji is usually really good with memorizing orders, so he’s totally messing with your friend on purpose.”

As if on cue, the cook’s voice—Sanji’s—rings out from the kitchen. “YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE, MOSSHEAD, I TOLD YOU THE KITCHEN’S OFF LIMITS FOR CUSTOMERS —”

Nami finds herself laughing with Vivi. “You know, it’s actually impressive that Zoro doesn’t get lost on his way to the kitchen anymore.”

Vivi raises her eyebrow. “Nami, the kitchen door is right there.”

“It’s Zoro,” Nami presses, because it’s always fun to see strangers learn about Zoro’s disastrous relationship with directions and maps for the first time. “One time, during our junior high sports festival, he got lost on the running track. For a hundred-meter race .”

That earns her another laugh from Vivi as she takes a seat beside Nami, body leaning forward in curiosity, “really? Is he short-sighted or something? Can’t he just—I don’t know, literally see the finish line?”

“Here’s the thing you need to know about Zoro,” Nami begins, and watching the way Vivi’s soft hair falls over the slope of her shoulder, bright blue and blinding despite the dim lighting of the diner, Nami somehow can’t find it in herself to be mad at Zoro anymore.

u/salveshine • 492 points 6 months ago

This seems like an obvious question, but I have to ask: have you considered going somewhere else for your dates? Most people don’t go to a diner for dates in the first place.

/u/throwawaypinwheel • 23 points 6 months ago

Well, as I said on the original post, it’s downright an obsession at this point. Asking him to go somewhere else doesn’t solve the problem since he’d just go there on his own on a different day.

Also, the waitress there is nice. She’s been keeping me company throughout this whole thing. She’s a godsend.

Vivi appears by her table as soon as Zoro disappears into the kitchen.

“Again?” Vivi asks by way of greeting.

“Again,” Nami agrees, scooting to the side of her bench to give Vivi space to sit. “It’s eggs benedict this time. Perfectly poached. I went to this fancy restaurant a few weeks ago, and they didn’t even make it this good.”

Somewhere from what presumably is the kitchen, Zoro’s frustrated voice echoes throughout the whole diner. “Now you’re not even serving me eggs anymore!”

“What are you—“ there is a moment of stunned silence before Sanji‘s reply comes, equally loud, dripped with utter disbelief. “Are you fucking serious? You thought this wasn’t made of—you’ve never seen scotch eggs before?”

“SHUT UP,” Zoro yells back.

Nami cranes her neck out of instinct, wishing to catch a glimpse of the scene from the window behind the counter—she’s never heard Zoro sounding so flustered before—but Vivi’s voice, small and low and far from the confident tone Nami has started to get used to, pulls her attention back.

“I’m sorry.”

It takes another moment before the words fully register in her brain. “Wh—for what?”

“I mean,” Vivi says, twiddling with her fingers as she mumbles, “this is supposed to be your date.”

“My date?” The question already falls out of her mouth before she realizes, oh. Oh. This is supposed to be a date, because her and Zoro are…well. Sometimes she doesn’t even remember that part—they’re certainly not acting the part, considering they’re hanging out with other people during these ‘dates’. Nami understands, rationally, that she should be mad about this; and yet— “It’s fine. I’m not that bothered.”

Vivi blinks. “You’re not?”

“Nah,” Nami says, waving her hand dismissively, feeling as surprised as Vivi looks. “Well, when it comes down to it, it’s still free food, you know? Could’ve been better—no offense, but a family diner isn’t exactly date material—but considering the menu and ingredients you guys have to work with? Sanji’s practically been making feasts fit for royalty here.”

“Well, I still think you deserve to be treated better during a date,” Vivi crosses her arms and—is that a pout on her face? “Don’t you feel a bit lonely?”

“No?” Nami replies, taken aback. That’s literally the furthest thing on her mind, because— “I have you, don’t I?”

Nami feels her face heat up as soon as the words left her mouth, because that sounded way more presumptuous than she intended. She meant to say, I have you to keep me company , like a friend , in a totally friend platonic way. Except they were talking about dates in a decidedly very romantic way and she should totally take it back—

Vivi beams at that, the kind that makes her look like she’s glowing inside her skin, and never mind, Nami’s not taking it back. Nope. She’s never taking it back even if someone’s paying her a million berries to take it back.

Vivi takes Nami’s hand from the table and holds it in both of her own, and Nami’s heart trips in her chest.

“Yeah,” Vivi says, the words sending a low hum under Nami’s ribcage. “Yeah, you have me.”

/u/mettlemental • 301 points 5 months ago

This is their ritual. Do not interfere.

/u/throwawaypinwheel • 279 points 5 months ago

You know what, I think you have a point. This thing between me and the waitress is also a ritual now, so we’re even.

“Shishishi!” Luffy laughs, eyes practically sparkling. “Sanji is so cool!”

“No he’s not!” Zoro pinches Luffy by the cheek to try to drag him away from Sanji. “I brought you here to defend me!”

“But Sanji’s the one making me delicious meat right now,” Luffy pouts, seemingly unperturbed by the potential disfigurement of his own face, gaze still rooted on Sanji—or, more specifically, the food Sanji is carrying on a tray. “What can you make, Zoro?”

Sanji lights up his cigarette, expression hidden behind his hands, but his whole body visibly puffs up like a peacock. Nami notices how the tips of his ears have turned red. “Finally, someone with taste.”

Zoro tries to grab the tray away from Sanji’s hand, and Nami watches Vivi masterfully maneuver between the messy cacophony of the trio, placing a tall stack of waffles in front of Chopper.

“This doesn’t make me happy at all!” Chopper says, his words nowhere near convincing, considering he’s saying it with the largest grin Nami has ever seen on a fourteen-year-old. “Did Sanji make this one, too?”

“He did,” Vivi says as she takes a seat beside Nami, as she always does. The table settles into a comfortable silence as Chopper digs into his waffles and Vivi absentmindedly plays with the salt shaker, observing the idiot trio from a distance.

“They sure get along fast,” Nami says as she takes out her cartography tools, and Vivi’s gaze sweeps between Luffy, Chopper, and the maps on the table.

“You’re not even trying to have a date anymore, aren’t you,” she points out.

“Nope,” Nami agrees, gesturing to Chopper with her pencil. “Chopper here wanted to try the waffle for a long time ever since I told him all about Sanji.”

“Please tell Sanji I love it!” Chopper adds around a mouthful of sugar.

“And Luffy’s been really curious about you two anyways.”

One table away, Luffy took the last bite of whatever meal Sanji just served, and dramatically announces, “this one’s better than the last one!”

“You always say that after every plate,” Sanji mumbles, but shoves another plate towards the kid anyways, clearly preening from the praises.

“It wasn’t even that good,” Zoro adds desperately, and scowls when Sanji chooses to watch Luffy eat another serving with the same gusto like he did the first one. “Oi—don’t ignore me, Shit Cook!”

It’s...fascinating. Nami never had a habit of watching Zoro—those activities are reserved for those fangirls in their university who barely know him—but she finds herself unable to look away whenever they’re at the Baratie. Whenever he’s with Sanji, to be precise. The chef seems to have brought out so many different sides of Zoro she’s never seen before in all the years she’s known him, and that’s saying a lot, considering she’s known Zoro for a decade.

Zoro has always been a steady presence in her and Luffy’s life ever since he moved into their neighborhood when she was shy of turning ten; he is strong-willed and loyal and eternally dependable, like a safe place they can always come back to. He can be a little hard to read, quiet and reserved as he is, but these days Nami knows where to look, the telltales hidden in the way he straightens his back and carries himself.

But with Sanji, Zoro is—he’s all those things still, sure. But he’s also— so much more. There’s suddenly this— kid, lively and boyish and so, so easy to read. Open book, heart on his sleeve. He grins and yells and throws his punches, and Sanji would take them in stride and return them as easily. This Zoro pouts when Sanji doesn’t pay him attention, and scowls when he does; and when Sanji makes him laugh, it’s a loud, open thing.

Sometimes it feels as if the Zoro she knew was an impostor all along. As if there was a pale imitation of Roronoa Zoro with a ghost of a smile, and he’d only come alive in the middle of a fucking diner.

And the worst part of it all is—

“You two?” Vivi suddenly mumbles, seemingly to herself.

Nami tilts her head. “Yeah?”

“You were saying something about Luffy being curious about… us two ,” Vivi says. There’s an odd, pensive look on her face. “Are you talking about Sanji and…”

“You, of course!” Nami cuts in, perplexed.

“You told your friends about me?” Vivi wonders, and it’s baffling. Of course Nami told her friends about Vivi. Sometimes Nami thinks Vivi is all she could talk about. She’s hilarious and smart and a thousand times more interesting to talk about than Sanji and Zoro combined.

That’s a really weird thing to suddenly spring on someone though, so Nami instead says, “Vivi, you’re the best thing about these weekly visits, because that sure as hell isn’t.”

She’s pointing at the dumbass trio; somewhere along the way, Luffy has seemed to fall asleep, and Sanji is smiling at the boy’s sleeping form, looking very pleased with himself. Zoro is fuming behind him, arms crossed and chest puffed, like a child being forced to share his favorite toy.

Vivi laughs at the sight, shaking her head. “Well, boys will be boys.”

The words bury itself uncomfortably in the pit of Nami’s stomach.

Boys will be boys—which is why sometimes (oftentimes, many times, always) Nami thinks she’s much more easily enamored with girls. Nami supposes there is a certain charm in Zoro’s brutish ways, but she’s beginning to learn that it may not be for her—Nami appreciates people who can hold their own in a fistfight, but there is also strength in reigning yourself in despite the circumstances, the way she’s seen Vivi handle difficult customers with a firm tone, graceful and dangerous at the same time.

(What could this mean, then? For her, for them—)

Zoro and Sanji have started fighting animatedly again. Roronoa Zoro, his heart on his sleeve.

And the worst part is that Nami doesn’t even care.

/u/sorcatarius • 334 points 4 months ago

I usually appreciate it when OP updates their posts with recent developments because I’m one of those people who get easily invested in a stranger’s life story, but is it just me or do all of these updates seem irrelevant? Most of them are about the waitress. I feel like I’m learning nothing about the actual date here. Who’s dating who again?

/u/NeonRain15• 137 points 4 months ago

OP is clearly a troll lol.

They are sitting at a corner table in front of the door to the kitchen, because Franky and Robin aren’t even pretending they’re here for the food instead of a show. Usopp told them he would rather ‘see where the danger is coming from ’, but Nami suspects the real reason is something closer to morbid curiosity.

Nami doesn’t fault them. It certainly is hard to look away from what those two clowns are currently doing: Zoro is waving a spatula and a frying pan like he would his kendo swords, clearly breaking several kitchen-related OSHA rules in the process; Sanji puts out his cigarette against the counter—seriously, has nobody here heard of proper kitchen etiquette—and swings his leg in a drop kick.

There’s a loud CLANK as his shoe comes into contact with the pan.

Franky whistles. “That’s super awesome, bro!” He cheers, before turning back to the table with a lower voice, “Seriously, how have they not fired Sanji-bro already?”

“Other than the fact that he’s overqualified as hell?” Usopp asks in between spoonfuls of Sanji’s fried rice.

“Well, they do provide a wonderful source of entertainment for us customers,” Robin observes.

“Sure thing,” Franky replies, “but they’re totally destroying kitchen appliances right now, I mean, look at that roller. There’s no way any normal wood could withstand that —there it goes.”

“Let them be—what’s the worst that could happen?” Robin muses. “Other than a kitchen accident that leads to a gas explosion and the restaurant burning down to the ground, obliterating all of us in the process, of course.”

“Robin,” Usopp squeaks.

Inside the kitchen, the tables have turned—Sanji has somehow regained possession of his kitchen appliances, and he’s now teaching Zoro how to cook. They’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder, heads bent over the stove, and Sanji would occasionally wrap his hand around Zoro’s wrist to instruct him.

Zoro looks like he’s going to spontaneously combust. His eyes are darting between Sanji’s hands (still lightly gripping Zoro’s wrist), Sanji’s face (dangerously close to Zoro’s own), and Sanji’s lips (there’s something there, something he wants to do and Nami knows if she thinks hard enough she can put a name on it) —anywhere but the food they’re actually cooking. Zoro’s own face is now redder than the tomatoes lining up the kitchen counter.

Heart on his sleeve, Nami thinks. Open book, open book.

“I’m going to get some refills,” she announces, suddenly feeling like she’s intruding on something private and practically leaps towards the soda station. She could feel a pair of curious eyes on her back—Robin’s, no doubt—but she’s more distracted by another presence currently standing beside her.

“Hey,” Vivi says, voice light, teasing. She’s carrying a lot of cups on her, presumably the others’, and she bumps her shoulder against Nami’s playfully. Nami could feel the touch fizzle against her skin.

“Hey,” Nami replies, trying to pretend that the close proximity doesn’t bother her at all. “‘Sup?”

Vivi wordlessly helps her with the drinks, and they easily fall into comfortable silence, filling cups after cups, until Vivi nudges her again. “You know, Usopp was right about Sanji being overqualified.”

Nami fills Franky’s cup slower, wondering where the conversation is going. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You know, I have a secret,” Vivi says, tone playful, but when Nami looks up there’s something in her eyes. “Actually, I own this place.”

Nami stops filling the cup. “What?”

“I mean, it’s mostly on loan, and I’m not halfway done with the payments, but technically, yeah,” Vivi says, tucking her hair to the back of her ear in a nervous gesture. “I didn’t really want to tell anyone because it’s not like I wanted a special treatment from the patrons. And I am effectively a waitress here.”

Nami is suddenly reminded of all the instances when she called Baratie a no-name diner right to Vivi’s face, and feels her stomach sink. Holy shit, she called it a dumpster fire just last week.

Vivi must have noticed Nami’s mental breakdown, because she quickly waves her hand and laughs. “No, no, don’t worry about it—I know we’re still a work in progress. Especially ever since—”

Vivi trails off at that, suddenly looking unsure. She starts collecting all the cups, like she’s giving Nami a reason to back out of the conversation. “It’s kind of a boring life story, actually, I’m sorry for dumping that all to you out of the blue—”

“Vivi,” Nami says, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t usually do this; she knows, better than most, how heavy one’s past could be, and she hates it when people try to pry into hers. But Vivi is looking at her with sad eyes and unsteady hands, and suddenly Nami wants nothing other than to tell her, “I’ll drop this if you don��t want to talk about it, but remember this: I will always want to know more about you.”

She places her hand on Vivi's arm, for emphasis. “I will always want to support you.”

It takes a moment before her words sink in, and Nami could see the moment it does, Vivi’s eyes widening in surprise as her face breaks into a slow-starting smile. “Thank you, Nami,” she whispers, and it’s almost reverent.

Nami’s gaze falls onto Vivi’s lips, and suddenly it’s become very difficult to maintain a conversation.

She wonders how she’d look now, to an outsider. Flushed face and a stupid smile on her face, hands fidgeting with her own hair. Open book, open book . Could they hear, she wonders, the way her heart is hammering against her ribcage—would they find out—

Robin claps her hands together, snapping Nami out of her reverie. The whole group is already standing by the door, waiting for her, and god, how long have they been talking by the soda station again?

“Perhaps we can take the drinks another day. Time to go home, don’t you think?” Robin suggests. Her tone is light, but her gaze is heavy, and Nami has to resist the urge to curl into herself.

Zoro still stares at the kitchen, oblivious to the tension. “Yeah,” he says, almost in a daze. “ Shit — yeah.”

Shit, indeed.

/u/Lanzifer• 975 points 5 months ago

This is a love story.

/u/nashdezus • 307 points 3 months ago

I hate to break it to you but I think your boyfriend is in love with the cook. If this is fake you have written one of the greatest gay romances of this generation, if this isn’t fake I dunno what.

/u/ParkNight • 399 points 3 months ago

Your BF needs to cut to the chase and invite the cook over to your place for some eggs and rough sex.

/u/Cod3Man • 760 points 4 months ago

He has a crush on the cook & vice versa but they’re both living a lie so they fight because it’s the only way to release the sexual tension. Every different way of cooking an egg represents a different sex act.

/u/jakubada • 523 points 3 months ago

Girl, not to wish ill will on your relationship, but you should bang that waitress instead.

“Have you ever heard of Baroque Works?”

Nami pauses. She places her pencil away, knowing that Vivi deserves nothing less than her full attention.

It’s only been a couple of days since the conversation she had with Vivi, but Nami can’t get her mind off of it. She’s been coming to Baratie every single day now after college, and it’s just so convenient that Zoro suddenly refuses to go. It’s simply harder to have Vivi open up when someone else is around, and not because there are other reasons. Like wanting Vivi all to herself. No sire.

She shakes herself out of the dangerous train of thoughts. “Baroque Works? Isn’t that the new restaurant chain down the block? It’s the one that’s taken over that other chain, right? Uh, what was it called—”

“Alabasta,” Vivi supplies, before sighing. “That’s the chain my family used to own.”

Nami blinks. “Wait, you used to own Alabasta?”

Running a diner on her own at her age is already an impressive feat in and of itself, but Alabasta is a whole different beast. It’s a nation-wide chain with dozens of restaurants, and owning the chain is probably equivalent to owning a small empire.

“Oh, no, I mean, my family did,” Vivi quickly adds, ever humble. “It’s not exactly anything impressive. My grandfather ran the business before my father did, and his father was the one who started it—it was passed down the generations, and I was simply born into it.

“As you said, Alabasta went down a few years ago because my father struck a bad deal with a ruthless businessman. It is clear now, in hindsight, that Crocodile was tricking us, but we were naive and perhaps a little too eager to expand. Baroque Works took over, and we were left with the only branch they deemed the least profitable—here.”

“And you renamed it to Baratie?”

“That was Sanji’s idea,” she says, a small smile playing on her lips; it is clearly a much fonder memory than what that businessman—Crocodile—did to her and her family. “At the time, Sanji just moved to Grand Line. His father had a restaurant back in East Blue with the same name, and he told me he would help me build everything back from the ground up. We would borrow the name, acting like we’re a branch of Baratie, and I can rename it back to Alabasta once I can settle all the legalities with Baroque Works.”

Everything slowly falls into place now—the way Sanji is clearly trained to cook dishes much more sophisticated than waffles and scrambled eggs, the freedom he gets to be able to mess around with Zoro, and his close camaraderie with Vivi.

Nami feels a pang of—god, jealousy, if she dares to put a name on it—towards Sanji; for being able to stand by Vivi’s side when she needed it the most. It’s silly, because Sanji has always been kind to her, and it’s not like it was Sanji’s fault that Nami didn’t know Vivi until recently, but the feeling gripped her like a vice anyway, heavy and suffocating.

Vivi seems to have taken her silence wrongly, though, because she looks away, almost shamefully. “You must think this is all stupid.”

“Of course not,” Nami immediately retorts without missing a beat. She thinks of Bellemere, holding her head high despite the judgments from the neighbors. She was alone and penniless, countless doors slammed close in her face just because she was a single mother; but none of that stopped Bellemere from sending Nojiko and Nami to the best school in the neighborhood

So Nami tells Vivi what she has always wanted to tell Bellemere, and what she knows to be true of Vivi, of any women in her life who has never backed down from adversity— “You’re amazing.”

Vivi blinks, cheeks coloring at the words. It takes her a moment before she can reply with a shaky, “Yeah?”

“Yeah? Vivi, you’re—” Nami turns her body to face Vivi fully, grabbing her by the arms, “—you’re the strongest, most hard-working person I’ve ever known. Most people in your shes would’ve turned tails and run.”

Vivi flushes further. It’s the first time Nami has seen her flustered, really cute, actually. And the fact that Nami is the one who put that expression on her face —

“Are we intruding on something?”

Nami almost jumps from her seat, suddenly feeling like she’s five again, getting caught with her hand halfway into the cookie jar. Vivi is scrambling to her feet from her side, cleaning imaginary dust from her uniform as she stammers, “no, of course not! I’m sorry, sir—sirs , can I take your order?”

Nami looks up to see Jinbe laugh and wave at her, signaling her to calm down. Brook is standing right behind him, giving Nami a small wave. “What do you serve?”

Nami tries to return to her map as Vivi starts rattling off the menu, but Brook—wise, old Brook, with his soft voice and observing eyes, goes, “No Zoro this time around, hm?”

Her pen stills. There’s nothing accusatory in Brook’s voice—he would never, none of their friends would never. But she waits for Vivi to be off with their orders still before replying, arms crossed across her chest almost defensively. “What is it to you, old man?”

She realizes a little too late that it’s an awfully rude response, but Jinbe simply laughs. “Old men, aren’t we, Brook?”

“Certainly older than most,” Brook agrees, eyes shining in mirth, not offended the least. “Hopefully wiser, too.”

“Well, sometimes,” Jinbe says, turning to Nami, “old men like us have the fortune—or the misfortune, some may say—to have loved and lost.”

Nami isn’t quite sure where the conversation is going, but there’s grief carried by Jinbe’s voice, and what comes out is, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all long past, miss,” Jinbe dismisses, not unkindly. “More importantly, what I’m trying to ay is, you and Zoro might have been looking at the wrong places. Love, that is. But there is time to rectify this—isn’t that what you young people have? Time”

Nami sits still, stupefied.

She has the suspicion that Robin knows, but Robin has always had her ways. For Jinbe to notice? Jinbe, who would rather talk about his fishing trips than to gossip? How obvious has she been?

(Open book, the thought resurfaces, unbidden. Heart on her sleeve—)

“Though, Nami?” Brook suddenly says, snapping Nami out of her own reverie.

She suddenly realizes that it’s just the two of them on the table, Jinbe already wandering around after imparting her with some advices. She clears her throat, trying to get her bearings. “Yeah?”

“I have to disagree with our dear Jinbe, I must say. We have loved and lost, but,” he takes her hand and guides it to rest on her heart.

“To love,” Brook says, voice steady, sure as a day. “Is never a misfortune.”

r/AmITheAsshole

Realizing I am a lesbian while dating a guy. AITA? submitted 2 months ago by u/throwawaypinwheel

257 comments share save give award report

Realizing I am a lesbian while dating a guy. AITA?

submitted 2 months ago by /u/throwawaypinwheel

I’m a girl who has gone through a couple of dates with a dude, but I’m falling in love with another girl. Like, I’m having a gay crisis right now. I’m not actually cheating since we haven’t decided to be exclusive yet, but he’s also a childhood friend, so it makes me wonder if this is a dick move?

To make matters more complicated: my date? Friend? Sort of boyfriend? He seems to have fallen in love with someone else too, and it’s another guy, so he might be gay, too.

Yes, I know bisexuality exists. Can’t exactly speak about him but I think I’m not that, so it’s not like I can suck it up and date him instead. AITA?

[deleted] • 725 points 2 months ago

Aren’t you the OP of that one viral post from r/relationship_advice about the Baratie cook?

/u/throwawaypinwheel • 2324 points 2 months ago

Yes, and that’s relevant, how?

/u/alohci • -20 points 2 months ago

LOL you’re clearly a troll. This isn’t r/CreativeWriting, go write your romance novel somewhere else. I’m reporting you to the mods.

/u/cheesus32 • 1739 points 2 months ago

This is better than most shit on Netflix right now

/u/veloace • 1641 points 2 months ago

Communication is key, OP. Sexualities aside—which is a topic for another day—isn’t this essentially a case of the two of you wanting different things from the relationship?

Nami takes a deep breath and checks her phone for the time.

She sees the 1:00 displayed on the screen. Her appointment with Zoro is supposed to be on twelve thirty, which means she’ll have another 30 minutes as Zoro gets lost on the way to Baratie as usual. One hour was his record.

She takes another deep breath and sighs.

This is it. She’s going to tell Zoro the truth.

It’s rare for her, to be so nervous around Zoro, but in her defense, it’s not like there’s an easy way to say, “hey, sorry, this may come out of nowhere but I’m breaking things off between us. Apparently I’m a lesbian and I’m also in love with the waitress at the place where we’re supposed to be going on dates in. It’s not you, it’s me.”

...Nami really needs to work on her delivery.

Her heart stutters in her chest as the automatic door slides open and Zoro walks in with the grim determination of a soldier going into battle. Perhaps Zoro is more perceptive than she’s giving him credit for. She hopes so—it surely will make this whole sort of-break up easier for the both of them.

She has run her line over and over again in her head, but nothing has prepared her to see Zoro sit down across the table, bow down, and says, “I’m sory, but I don’t think this is working out for us.”

She blinks. Wait. Wait—“ You're breaking up with me?”

“Luffy thinks we’re having a fight because we’ve been acting weird around each other ever since we tried out this whole dating thing, and hell, Nami, he’s right—I’ve seen you less now,” Zoro plows on, oblivious to her shock. “And don’t get me wrong, you’re my best friend, and you’re still my best friend, and I want us back. The us that’s, you know, normal. Alsoimightbeinlovewiththecook .”

Oh.

That’s—oh.

Nami is pretty sure her mouth is hanging open stupidly now, but she can’t bring herself to care. “Holy shit,” she breathes, perplexed. “Reddit was right.”

Zoro finally looks up at that. “What’s red—” he seems to take in her expression for the first time since the conversation started, eyebrows furrowing. ‘Wait. You’re not mad?”

“Mad? No, Zoro, god—how could I be when you’re right?” She feels her body slumping into the chair, the weight she didn’t know she’d been carrying has suddenly been lifted. “We are terrible for each other. I have no idea what got us to agree to this.”

Zoro visibly relaxes. There’s amusement in his tone as he suggests, “the copious amount of alcohol?”

Right. They were in the middle of a drinking competition when the idea of a date came up. “You know what, in hindsight, it’s kind of crazy that we got this far with such a stupid idea.”

“I think I was running away,” Zoro admits, eyes unwittingly darting towards the kitchen. “I couldn’t—I had this thing, for the Cook, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit it. So I tried to make you an excuse for my cowardice.” He bows again. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, dummy, don’t—” she kicks him on the shin, forcing him to stop bowing. “Stop being all bushido on me. I wasn’t any better. I’m—in love with Vivi.”

It’s Zoro’s turn to look at her in surprise. “What, really?”

It’s comforting, in a way, that at least she isn’t so obvious that Zoro would notice. “Yeah. You’re probably too preoccupied with your pretty blond to notice, but I’ve been pretty smitten myself. And I guess I have you and your little crush to thank for dragging me here in the first place.”

Zoro blushes at that, and it’s cute—not in a way that makes her want to kiss him, but definitely in a way that makes her want to tease him until the end days. God, how did it take her so long to realize she never loved him that way?

“‘Dragging” you, huh?” Zoro seems to decide to hone in on that, probably because he could burn himself alive from embarrassment if he keeps talking about Sanji. “This place is that bad for a date?”

Nami throws her head back and laughs. “You’re the worst date ever, Zoro,” she says, in between peals of laughter. “But you’re the best wingman I’ve ever had.”

“Going on a date again this time?” Vivi asks.

Nami looks at her—really takes her in, her smooth long hair and bright smile and long eyelashes. Holy shit, she’s staring at her eyelashes. She is so fucking gay.

She clears her throat. Focus, Nami. “No, actually, uh, can we talk? Like, super serious.”

Vivi immediately straightens up at that. “Of course. Give me a moment."

She rushes towards the kitchen, probably to tell Sanji that she’ll be occupied for a moment; something pulls inside Nami’s chest at the sight, knowing that Vivi would drop everything to be by Nami’s side.

When Vivi reemerges from the kitchen, she’s no longer carrying the tray and the menu. She takes a seat beside Nami and takes her hand. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, kind of, uh,” here goes nothing. “Zoro and I broke up.”

Vivi’s free hand shot up to cover her mouth in surprise. “Oh my god, Nami, I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be,” she rushes to clarify, before Vivi gets the wrong idea, “I did say we broke up, but that isn’t exactly right—I mean, we were never exclusive, Vivi. And I don’t think we were ever dating for real. Like, we’re gay.”

There’s a beat. “What?”

Okay, so Nami could have broken the news much more smoothly than that.

“Zoro and I, uh—I’m gay. And Zoro never exactly put a label, but I’m pretty sure he never even dreamed of banging a chick, and—” she squeezes Vivi’s hand. She isn’t sure she’s doing it for Vivi or herself. “I know this is a lot, but I just—I think we were just very comfortable with each other, and since we are man and woman, we somehow thought we should date. Which is dumb, looking back at it, but we’d never fallen in love before.”

She thinks of Vivi—beautiful, fierce, kind Vivi, who carries the world on her shoulders. Vivi, whose smile lights up the whole room. “We didn’t know how different it was going to be, when it’s the real thing.”

Somewhere behind them, she can hear something heavy hit the floor in the kitchen, which means Zoro must have confessed right about now and Sanji must have dropped something from the shock.

Well, at least Vivi hasn’t dropped anything yet.

“What I’m trying to say is,” she continues, finding newfound courage from the way Vivi looks at her—is that hope in her eyes? “Vivi, you’re the most wonderful, amazing person I’ve ever met, and you’re beautiful and pretty but I like you more than just that.” She takes Vivi’s hand in both of hers now. “Would you go out with me?”

There’s a moment as her words seem to sink in, and Nami feels her blood run cold—what if she read this whole thing wrongly? What if Vivi was straight? What if she was just trying to help out a friend, being the nice person she is?

But then Vivi’s face splits into a smile, soft and golden-warm, the white light of the overhead fluorescence illuminating her almost ethereal-like. “Yes, Nami,” she says, lacing their fingers together, “I would love to go out with you. But only on one condition.”

“Anything,” Nami says without thinking, because it’s true.

Vivi grins, and there’s a teasing edge on her voice as she says, “If you’re asking me on a date in a diner, count me out.”

“Oh my god,” Nami says, finally, finally pulling Vivi in for a kiss, “never again.”

UPDATE: My (20F) Date (21M) has left me for a Baratie cook (21M)

submitted 3 days ago by /u/throwawaypinwheel

It’s fine though, I have a girlfriend (18F, beautiful, amazing, doesn’t get into fights with random cooks) now. Yes, it’s the waitress. Yes, you guys have told me so. I’d love to take the L, but I’m the one with a hot girlfriend here, so am I really losing in this scenario?

#namivivi #zosan #nami #roronoa zoro #sanji #nefertari vivi #one piece #my writing #//#vivi #zoro #op

185 notes · View notes

its-me-im-coraline · 3 years

Text

Best Years // Thomas Raggi // Playlist

words // 1109

warnings // angst as hell, why am i writing so much angst? I dont know

pairing // Thomas Raggi x GN!Reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. sorry I did not post yesterday, i was not feeling really inspired at all so yeah, but thankfully that's changed today so here. WHO LET ME WRITE SO MUCH ANGST SOMEONE STOP ME OMG. Unless you like the angst, then don't stop me 😉 Also please forgive me for making Thomas the bad guy on this fic, i literally randomly picked the songs for these fics at first without thinking of the lyrics so now I'm stuck with the consequences of angst

request // nope

summary // Thomas and reader have been having an on and off relationship. One moment they are together, the next they are entertaining other people; but in the end they only ever think of each other.

“Don’t you just feel great, here, like that, with me holding you?” The man was lying on the bed of his hotel room, his partner in his arms, simply basking in the afterglow of what went down a few minutes ago.

Y/N just smiled at him, eyes closed and head resting on his shoulder. “Mhm,” they simply mumbled, drifting off to sleep.

By the time morning came around Thomas had already gotten up, leaving his partner alone in the bed before abandoning the room heading for the dinning area for breakfast. When he got to it his bandmates were already there, sitting at a table and eating, only giving him a disappointed look.

“You didn’t tell them. Again.” Victoria glared at her friend while poking her eggs with her fork maybe a little to violently

“There is nothing to say Vic. We are together again, what happened when we were not does not concern them.”

“Thomas! This has already happened so many times. You break up, you go with someone else, you get back together and act like nothing happened!” He was their friend, that is for sure, but Thomas’ bandmates pride themselves in their honesty and in their effort to be respectful. It did not seem to be the case for the younger man.

He wasn’t a bad person, no, but his mind was clouded by the options, the excitement of the moment, that rush. He loved Y/N - not that he knew that - but he had a terribly difficult time being consistent. He was young, spontaneous, had not had much time to explore his options, and while it was entirely wrong, he did so now at the expense of his lover. The words he heard put him in deep thought, and at this time deep thought ment deep drinking for him.

As the night rolled around Thomas found himself occupying the hotel bar. Considering emotions, problems and choices is a hard thing and though he had to do so he was not even remotely ready for that. The comfort of the drink and the existence of beautiful women was enough for a journey of the mind and a mistake of the body. By the time he was done he found himself sitting outside of his hotel room, where Y/N was just inside.

His back was on the wall and his eyes were closed, almost falling asleep right there, so he failed to hear them open the door. “Thomas, dio mio, I was just coming to look for you! Are you okay?” They were concerned to say the least, an obvious observation really. Their eyebrows were furrowed, lips separated and hand on their chest, holding the little pendant Thomas had given them - it was a thing they tended to do whenever they were nervous, hold the charm of the pendant, take a deep breath and it helped calm them down.

“No need, amore, as you can see I’m right here,” he slurred, stumbling across words, missing letters… He was very far gone and anyone could see that.

Y/N simply took a deep breath, bracing themselves for the upcoming night and morning. It was always the same cycle. He did something he should not, he would drink, do more things he should not and come back to Y/N. It was never fun but they did not have the heart to just leave him there.

“Come on, Thom, help me a little bit! You need to get up.” The man groaned but did as told before getting inside the room with his… partner.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as Y/N sat him in the bathtub, trying to rid him of his drunken state even a little bit.

“I know you are.”

“No, no, no, you don’t understand! I really am sorry. I want to change…”

How many times? Just how many times has he said the same things, same excuses and same empty promises. It never changed and it had certainly gotten tiring. That was precisely the reason they could not believe that Thomas this time would be different, he had given them a million reasons to hesitate.

Maybe it was the on and off that became tiring, both parties figuring out different excuses that simply did not make sense, but always being enough to cause the temporary break ups. A lot of the time, especially if on tour, Thomas would find someone to ‘comfort’ him for a few nights, wasting his time with people that simply were not his. They never were Y/N, no matter how hard he tried to not think about that, he’d wake up the next morning with an unfamiliar person but a familiar discomfort in his stomach.

“It will not be the same, amore, I promise,” he said this time, “you’ll see! I’m willing to try.”

To be completely honest, Y/N did not seem to believe much of the man’s words. They had heard them time and time again, it had become difficult to put trust in them again. “I am not sure, Thomas,” they said, leaning behind them on the counter, “how can I possibly say that it’s ok, how can we be together, again?” The exasperation was obvious, not being able to be contained, after all the pain and the strain in their heart.

“I know, I know. I’ve been terrible… But I really am willing to change. Make it up for all the times I screwed up. I’ll make up for all of your tears.”

Y/N stayed quiet. They did not want to continue this conversation, especially while Thomas was drunk, this state making it even harder to believe him.

“I did not do it,” he breathed out after the silence had gotten too much, “I didn’t do it this time…”

“What didn’t you do?” asked Y/N, curiosity lacing their voice, puzzled at his words.

“I didn’t go with anyone. Not when we were apart this time, not while I got drunk. Everyone thinks I did so I let them believe it, but I didn’t,” he explained looking down, “I couldn’t.”

“Why?” They knew it was not the question they should be asking but before thinking the word had already come out.

“Because I realized something,” he responded, putting his palm on Y/N’s face after they came back to the side of the tub.

The only hummed back at him, prompting him to continue. “I want to be with you, for good. No more fighting, no more drinking, no more tears, baby. Nothing. I want to be full on this, please. I’ll give you the best years and nothing else will matter anymore.”

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11

playlist tag list: @cheese-toastie-11

#maneskin imagine #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin #måneskin #thomas raggi imagine #thomas raggi #playlist series

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amajikilvr · 3 years

Note

ugh i love your fluffy alphabet on tamaki 🥺 so if it's okay, can you do one for bakugou, too?

headcanon corner - katsuki bakugou sfw alphabet

word count 1.8k

reader type gender-neutral

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

In the beginning, Katsuki’s affection will come out quite stubbornly and will be harder to see at times. Later on, it’s obvious how much he cares for you. His heart is full of love despite his aggressive attitude. He’s not afraid to show PDA, no matter who’s watching, and you’re often the recipient of his rare compliments. Katsuki is always ready to say “I love you”.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

That’s a tricky one. Befriending people isn’t exactly on Katuski’s radar, but he’d prefer someone who could “keep up with him” if so to speak. Reliable helps too. This friendship might start with him genuinely, although reluctantly, praising your quirk or skills.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

“This is fuckin’ stupid,” He’ll mumble as he wraps his strong arms around you, but he’s loving every minute of it. Katsuki’s down to snuggle in front of everyone, but if you’re the one initiating, he’ll be a tad bit embarrassed and no one dares point it out. When you two are completely alone you’ll get to see his softer side and you might even be the big spoon for once.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He’ll want to settle down in a sense that he needs to be sure that they’re his and he’s theirs. The method of doing so will depend on what’s best for both of you, but moving in together is probably in the cards. Katsuki makes a fantastic roommate because, among his many talents, cooking is one of them. He’s also a bit of a clean fanatic and you might wake up to him vacuuming or doing the dishes at 7 AM or something.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Firstly, he would fight tooth-and-nail against whatever was threatening the relationship because he’s not letting you go easily. If it absolutely came down to ending things, Katsuki would make it straight to the point and as quick as possible. He wouldn’t be able to remain ‘just friends’ with you and would never truly move on in his heart.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)

Katsuki is beyond committed and he firmly believes there are several ways to show it besides putting a ring on it. If you two were to eventually get married it would be later on so your careers could be focused on. He just wants you both to succeed and achieve your dreams more than anything, but if the marriage was something you really wanted, he might consider tying the knot earlier than previously planned.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Although I think Katsuki is actually a sensitive person, he can definitely be on the rough side of things. He can read and interpret others’ emotions, but relating to them can be a challenge. I don’t believe he’d ever act maliciously towards you or anyone else he cares for. He’s got a soft touch and even the occasional kind words during the most surprising times.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Katsuki’s a bigger fan of kisses, but he does love hugs! He’s always, well, touching you. Huge bear hugs. Squeezy. Warm. The type to literally lift you off of your feet. He’ll leave little tickling kisses on your neck and shoulders while whispering words against your skin.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He’ll say the words in every possible way… besides actually saying the words. It’s like a mental block of Katsuki’s because he’s admittedly scared of proclaiming his love in such a straight-forward way. Once he gets over that first hump, it’s no problem for him. He won’t be throwing the words around like candy, but he’ll always say what’s on his mind.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Katsuki is emotional and jealousy is a familiar feeling for him. Being a bit of a hothead definitely doesn’t help either. This jealousy stems from his insecurities and can be overbearing. At the beginning of the relationship, it will probably be the cause of some arguments between you two. Later on, jealous Katsuki will just include him being extra pissy and extra cuddly.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Passionate. Always. If he’s kissing you, he’s going all the way. Even during your first kiss, he gave it his all. Sure, it was an awkward mess of spit and teeth, but he was eager and didn’t hesitate! Katsuki’s skills have improved by now and he never fails to showcase them. It doesn’t matter where, if he’s kissing you, then he’s happy. It depends on your preferences. And as for him… his neck is especially sensitive and he’ll never admit it.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Well, after the remedial lessons episode, we know he’s not very good. At all. Despite that, I can imagine him still wanting kids eventually. An “I can’t stand any kid except my own” type.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Katsuki is your typical morning person. He’s up at the same time every day and it amazes you. Well, unless you’re a morning person yourself, that is. If you’re a heavy sleeper then waking you up on time will be his new personal mission. He’ll probably make you a nice breakfast and get as many kisses as he can in before work.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Haha! This guy goes to bed at like 9-pm. He’s got a strict schedule and if you somehow manage to get him to stay up later to watch a movie with you or something, he’s gonna fall asleep on your lap and it’s adorable. It’s the perfect opportunity to play with his soft hair without having to hear him grumble about it the entire time.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It’s going to take a while to break through his outer shell, but he’s not exactly secretive about his feelings and his past. Katsuki trusts you enough to be open with his mistakes and he won’t hide anything if you just ask.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

I think this one is a bit self-explanatory, but it’s not very often that he gets angry at you.He’s getting better at controlling his anger and you tend to bring out his gentler side too.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

In the moment, it may seem like simply he brushes it off or doesn’t really acknowledge it, but that’s actually not the case. Katsuki always remembers and takes everything into consideration. The number of little things he keeps notes of might surprise.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

One Saturday afternoon, Katsuki decided he was going to try out a new chocolate cake recipe and you decided you’d try your hand at baking for once! He was absolutely willing to teach you and it was going well… until you somehow managed to drop an egg yolk right on Katsuki’s sock covered foot. His favorite pair of socks at that. The kitchen was quiet until he swifty flicked flour at your forehead and it was game-on from there. The next thirty minutes were filled with lots of flour and kisses.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Katsuki couldn’t be more protective of you and he’s more than willing to use his quirk if needed. He’s prepared to fight for you in the blink of an eye, no question about it. His job as a pro-hero means so much when you’re someone he has to protect, but he also knows it’s a mutual feeling. He completely believes in your own physical abilities to keep him safe and your reassuring words make him truly feel like the greatest.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He’s certainly not lazy when it comes to your relationship, but at the same time, Katsuki finds things like fancy dates and lavish gifts kinda pointless. He couldn’t care less about eating at an expensive restaurant, all that matters is that he’s with you. That’s not to say that he won’t give you nice things because he will be spoiling you, especially on anniversaries and holidays.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

His inferiority complex has always been his biggest enemy. There are times when he just can’t shut off his competitive side and it can turn things ugly when he lets his insecurities get the best of him. His temper is also something he’s struggled with and is still learning how to manage.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Katsuki really doesn’t care about that kind of thing. Of course, it does fuel his ego and boost his confidence when you compliment his looks. He considers himself to be an attractive person, but nothing too special. (You think differently)

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He likes to believe otherwise, but yeah, he really would. He couldn’t imagine a day without you. It’s just a scary thing for Katsuki to accept that he relies on someone other than himself for once.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He’ll never admit it, but spiders really freak him out. Let’s just say he won’t argue if you offer to take one outside.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Someone who gives up easily would just kinda irritate him. Katsuki knows people struggle, hell, he’s definitely one of them, but seeing someone simply not try and throw in the towel when things don’t go their way is something that would get on his nerves.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

He’s somehow got a cute snore. Yup. It’s not even really a snore, more like some kind of soft breathing noise, but it’s noticeable and something you’ve grown to love. It’s also difficult for Katsuki to fall asleep in places other than his own bed.

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junicai · 3 years

Text

Relationship with WAYV

➣ KUN ☾ karia

if it wasn’t for dotae potentially coming to kill him, he would steal aria into wayv

he’s the cool dad?

they can’t spend a lot of time together because none of their schedules match up, but aria takes every third or so weekend out to come have dinner in the wayv dorms

she’s surprisingly close to the china line, and its a combination of ten dragging her to his dorm for an entire month and them just kinda adopting her when they realized she was a foreigner as well

yuta can fight them, she’s one of them now

he doesn’t like to baby her a lot, and she really appreciates the break from being the “maknae” so to speak

however does that stop him from giving her the forehead kithes? no

aria sad? forehead kith

aria mad? forehead kith

aria smad? forehead kith + kuddles (kun cuddles)

he has sent her a passive agressive text when he found out that she wasn’t eating enough again and had almost passed out

but he finished it with a heart so its ok

if she isn’t smiling at all times, someone will die

aria feels like she can trust him with a lot; that no matter what she tells him, he’ll never out her or make fun of her

kun actually took a two-week online course to learn how to make traditional japanese dishes when aria mentioned missing her parents

he originally was going to learn how to make irish dishes, but he changed his mind after seeing what they were

“im not giving my kids boiled cabbage and mashed potatoes what kind of post world war-”

wants to give her a chinese name but hasn’t yet because he hasn’t found the one that fits her right and he wants it to be perfect

aria teaches him japanese phrases in exchange for him teaching her a little bit of mandarin

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

aria saw kun’s back as she entered the practice room, the man standing with three other members in the centre of the floor before the choreographer came in to start their practice. coming up behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, peeking her head around from where she was. “hi!” she smiled brightly.

“hi,” ten chuckled, showing her the camera that had just filmed all of that.

➣ TEN ☾ tenaria

Whipped(TM)

so so gone for her its upsetting actually

yangyang and aria share the position of his baby

except aria willingly accepts the title while yangyang would rather fling himself from a rooftop

ten’s instagram is half his cats, half miyazu aria

he posts her dancing practice on his story a lot, with a variety of captions ranging from “thats my baby ♡( ◡‿◡ )” to “yah that’s not right...(눈_눈)”

such an enabler for her bad ideas

aria wants to go shopping at 4am? ten agrees, now they’re sitting by han river eating ice cream

pls he’s gonna get her in so much trouble one day

when they walk together, ten likes to take her hand and put it in his pocket

its under the pretense of not wanting her to get lost

he just wants to hold her hand

yes he has lost her in a shopping mall, and NO it wasn’t his fault

ten always complains that they never have schedules together and he misses his baby

“we have superm-” “I NEVER SEE YOUUUU (ﾉಥ益ಥ)ﾉ”

if they’re in the same room ten is either watching her out of the corner of his eye, or is actually wrapped around her like a boa constrictor

hugs n kithes all around

only he is allowed make fun of her mistakes in dancing

anyone else gets deaded. he will fight for her honor how dare you insult his baby

sm give these ttwo a dancing duo video pls

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

the first and only time aria and ten had a duet was during their last concert on superm’s first world tour. during the second half of ten’s solo performance, aria emerged from the left side of the stage, coming to join him in the centre stage. no one had ever seen aria as serious as she was then, both herself and ten becoming completely different people in the moment. midway through, aria spun with her back to ten and leaped backwards into the air - eyes closed - completely trusting ten to be where she needed him to be to catch her.

➣ WINWIN ☾ winria

a love hate relationship at its finest

they don’t actually hate each other it’s just really funny to pretend that they do (especially because yuta complains that 2 of his favourite people aren’t getting along)

winwin is so savage towards aria but it’s ok she claps back twice as hard

at first, before czennies had seen enough of their dynamic they thought that they actually did hate each other

but that’s not true they just don’t know how to express, affection, without brutally insulting the other with a loving tone

they are, surprisingly, the most stable pairing in 127 - they have a dynamic and rarely stray from that, which is a good comfort for the fans

despite what they might say to each other, they don’t mean any of it - and winwin has been seen several times raising his eyebrows with a questioning look at aria to make sure she wasn’t taking any of his playful jabs to heart

oh god the flexibility

the entirety of nct is terrified of them

the day sm gives them a circus act is the day that kun and taeyong have a heart attack

quietly supportive of each other - catch aria “playing” with a water bottle and not getting up to get it when it conveniently rolls across the floor and into winwin’s leg

he makes sure to save some new chinese sweets whenever the wayv members get packages from their familes, and sneak it into aria’s room before the managers can catch her breaking her diet

not really physically affectionate with each other, which played into czennies idea that they didn’t like each other but aria cleared it up in a vlive

“winwinnie and I, well. we don’t hug a lot because i know he doesn’t like it as much as i might, so i try to show him i care with other things :)”

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

winwin and aria going in to each other on knowing brothers, to the point where the mc’s had their eyes popping out of their head and waved about to stop the segment before aria could start attacking winwin’s cooking methods-

nothing is off limits when it comes to them

➣ LUCAS ☾ arihei

besties

please they’re so cute together - tol child next to tini child she barely comes up to his chest :(

bear hugs

he just swamps her in his arms, and when he doesn’t feel like being bent over he picks her up

complains that she’s too heavy but then immediately after will throw her around like a softball

someone tell this man to be careful with her she’s not a barbie doll

singular braincell energy

don’t get it wrong, they’re both super smart

so it’s just - being smort together, but then nearly dying because neither of them remembered that you couldn’t eat raw cookie dough when there are eggs in it

she adores how he’s so confident in the things that he does - like convincing the entire nct fandom that he was fluent in english? king behaviour

so aria looks up to him (literally) but also because she wants to have that confidence some day

lucas says they’re not close and then aria pouts and he takes it all back

nczennies made a 14 minute compilation titled “lucas melting like a popsicle in australia for aria”

and literally what the title tells you, this man goes :(( when he sees her

lucas was actually the person to convince her to go ahead with the [redacted] proposal - and reminded her that it was too good an opportunity to pass up just because she felt like she was outgrowing the boys

he’s so proud of her

and she’s so proud of him

they’re so proud of each other and it makes nczennies want to cry because they never are seen together

sm stop separating the platonic soulmates first markhyuck and now arihei smh

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

during a photoshoot, aria was standing off to the side of the boys, dressed in white suit to contrast the boys’ black ones. the photographer was calling out to her to get her to move closer, but she couldn’t hear him from so far away, and so lucas (who was on the end) just walked over to her, gripped her by the biceps and lifted her vertically and to the left a little bit.

“luc-LUCAS?”

“you had to move :)”

➣ XIAOJUN ☾ arijun

honestly these two aren’t super close, just because their schedules never matched up until the NCT 2020 promotions

even when aria was dragged to the wayv dorms, xiaojun kept his distance from her because he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable

even so, when they were filming Make A Wish together, they seemed comfortable enough around each other

there was a mutual agreement to not try fill the silence with awkward small talk, so they sat in silence when left alone together

they’re both shy :( someone needs to get them to talk to each other :(

even so, aria was all supportive smiles and thumbs-up when she saw him getting nervous before their first public stage as the unit

he was a little intimidated of her at first, but also really curious about how she was holding her own against the other members

not only physically, but her vibes are tiny let the man be concerned ok

his first impression of aria was just: small quiet? she was sitting apart from the other boys in the practice room, and he almost wanted to go over and ask her if she was ok; before she was approached by donghyuck and her face broke into a bright smile

aria’s first impression of xiaojun was: eyebrows he was really handsome? at first, she thought he was in the wrong room, seeing as the SM modeling auditions were happening in the next room down

any arijun shippers are starved of content im so sorry guys

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

currently still up for debate between the fandom :(

➣ HENDERY ☾ aridery

ah these two

you might as well sign a waiver if you decide to do anything with them, because they can and will get you killed

kun can testify

ten’s the enabler but hendery is the do-er

super giggly around each other, for no reason at all

hendery could pick up and throw a basketball and suddenly aria’s on the floor in literal stitches

have a secret code

no seriously

they don’t text in words, they just send various reaction memes and a colourful variety of emojis to convey emotions and scenarios

it’s become quite a beautiful language actually

got some nice proverbs in there

they’re like, cousins but the ones you only see at family reunions but get so hype to see them

that energy

asides from the chaotic, murderous vibes they possess as a duo

hendery knows what it’s like to miss home, to miss your parents, etc etc

and so he tries to make aria feel as home as possible - especially with wayv, because they’re all foreigners who know how she feels

whenever he gets packages from his parents who have sent things over, he always makes sure to keep some of the small treats/sweets back for aria

1. because he knows she’ll appreciate the thought and she gives good hugs

2. because he knows she’s on a diet constantly and never allowed eat these things when she’s in the dorms with managers around

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

filming the Resonance “Wish” event, aria was put in a skimpy minimalistic mock-suit to differentiate from the others’ clothes. unfortunately, that left aria with a little too much shoulder and chest on display than she would like, and she was noticeably uncomfortable with her clothes, constantly pulling it up and even going so far as to just hold it with her hands.

hendery saw this, and knew he was finished filming his segment for the time being, so he pulled off his own jacket and tossed it over to aria, who caught it with a grateful smile. “thank you,” she mouthed to him, tugging the dark blue material over her shoulders.

➣ YANGYANG ☾ ariyang

aria. has 9 days of age on this boy and will never let him forget it

“respect your elders you brat” “9. DAYS.”

european pals

they feel so cultured when they get asked about europe, and then are kindly reminded by hendery that A. Germany started 2 world wars, and B. Ireland was just a British colony until 100 years ago.

they both hit him for that

aria teaching him curse words in irish and yangyang teaching her curse words in german? more likely than you’d think

they met before yangyang’s debut was announced, in a practice room that had let them accidentally overlap their practice times

instead of working it out between them, they actually just started to alternate their songs - and the other gave them some good, constructive criticism

most of the time

when they found out they were going to be in 90s Love together, they were so happy

it was going to be their first official schedule together

all the behind-the-scenes videos are just aria and yangyang being children and then ten coming over and cooing at them

they love ten, but they will trash talk the man behind his back

yangyang confessed to her that he sometimes feels nervous when speaking korean, like he’s going to make a big mistake

so she tries her best to teach and correct him where she can, and make him as comfortable as possible

if you look at any of the 90s Love promotions - aria is always beside yangyang

he bit her ear once

she doesn’t know why and he won’t tell her

but now when she makes fun of him, he threatens to do it again

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

aria skating onto the rink during filming, and yangyang following her because she promised to teach him how to skate backwards.

“ok just, think like you’re leading with your heels. press your knees in, and push outwards, with you-no no that’s forwards. go backwards yangyang.”

“no no no thats a WALL YANGYANG STOP-”

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uswnt-keeper · 3 years

Text

Holiday Surprise

Requested by: @mari-victoria-13

Prompt: can you write lindsey x reader celebrating the holidays w readers family??

This is my SECOND TIME posting this cuz it won’t show up in tags which is very annoying. I hope it does this time. Went a little off the prompt, but that’s what you get if you leave me with little to no detail 😂. Hope you enjoy! Also if anyone knows how to make the post shorter so it says “keep reading” rather than have a whole ass paragraph on my page, please let me know. Thanks, enjoy! 💜Also this is NOT proof read, sorry...

“Finally, the adults turn to open presents,” my brother, Owen, complained standing up from his position on the couch to go search through the presents.

“Hey, you decided to have two cute kids,” I retorted as his wife laughed across from Lindsey and I.

It was Christmas of course and usually it was the cheeriest time of the year, and it still was, but this year I was nervous, very nervous. I had a plan, in fact a very elaborate one to propose to my girlfriend of 4 years, Lindsey.

Lindsey has been a shining light in my life since I met her all of those year ago. I remember being 16 when she was 18, hearing she went pro out of high school. I didn’t know it at the time, but we’d end up meeting for the first time four year later when I was 20. I got my first national team call up and we became attached at the hip. Of course, she had solid relationships with Tobin and Sonnett which 100% threw me off at first, especially because I thought Sonny and Linds were together. But after sometime, she expressed interest, and my oblivious brain didn’t read it right. I didn’t realize what was happening until I got shovel talk by the entire team, I was 21 by then, and confused as hell.

When I finally figure out what the hell they were talking about, it was clear I had no solid plan to ask Lindsey out, and so it became a game of what if’s, the whole team giving me ideas of what to do. I got so overwhelmed by the ideas and what could go wrong that when Lindsey walked in I just asked her... mostly by accident, and since that day we’ve been together.

Yeah, we’ve had some arguments and fights, like any normal relationship does, but we never go to bed angry at one another. We’ve helped each other through a lot, everything really. When my dad passed away 3 years ago, she was there, she lost the championship, I was there. Now, I want to promise her that I’ll be there forever, until death do us part and I can only hope she’ll agree.

We all stacked the presents in front of us which were ours and started to open them, collecting things of course from everyone. I got a nice watch, some jewelry, but I was most excited to see Lindsey’s reaction to the final gift.

“That’s it,” Lindsey said looking around at everyone’s wrapping paper on the floor, of course, everyone was in on this proposal except for Lindsey, I had something extravagant planned, and it would take a few days.

“No, there’s one last thing for you babe,” I said looking at her.

“Where? I don’t see it,” she looked around, unable to find it until she looked at me, holding a small box, wrapped in white and gold, “You’re sneaky, what is it?” She chuckled and I smiled.

“Open it,” I told her, she did, and found a small necklace in there, she seemed shocked, eventually finding the engraving on the back of important dates for us. When we met, our first kiss, when we both moved in together, etc.

“This is beautiful,” she said with a well of tears as she hugged me and I pecked her lips.

“There’s something else in there love,” I said, putting the necklace around her neck as she looked back in the box.

I watch on as she read it, everyone watching the exchange as I gave them a cheeky grin, “An I Owe You?” Lindsey asked and I nodded to the paper again as she started to read it, “Okay, ‘Mrs Lindsey Michelle Horan, I owe you a little trip up to the Delicate Arch’...” she looked at me with a confused face before looking at the paper again, “Oh, ‘You’re final present will be there, ready to pick up on December 31st’ New Years?” I nodded.

“Yep, I got one final thing for you, but it won’t be ready for some time,” I said, “Sorry, I really couldn’t get it in until later,” I smiled.

Obviously that was a complete lie, I had to organize everyone to be on the arch for New Years, which was hard convincing for some as it was gonna be cold. But the New Years fireworks would be perfect to help me out with this proposal, and it would be expensive, but totally worth it. Yeah, I had to get the whole team to fly out here, and Lindsey’s family who were fully on board, and get them up to the arch in time, literally just in time, for the fireworks.

It was a precarious plan, but I felt good about it.

“I have to wait for it?”

I nodded and she groaned, making the room laugh.

“I hate waiting,” she sighed and I chuckled, kissing her cheek.

“I know love, but I promise this is going to be the best present you’ve ever gotten... or at least I hope so.”

It was her time to kiss my cheek now, “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

The days passed by rather quickly, almost so quickly that I wasn’t ready when New Years rolled around. We’d spent a lot of time together, baking cookies with my family, splaying with my twin nephews, and honestly walking around Utah. A lot of that time was spent distracting Lindsey, and Im sure she got suspicious when I left her with my mom for a full day to make sure everything was in place. That was yesterday, December 30th, and that was also the day I picked up the ring.

When I got home that night, I didn’t think Lindsey was too happy with me. I’d gotten home and instead of greeting them rushed upstairs to my moms room where I knew the ring would be safely hidden. I felt bad though, as I’d literally been gone all day preparing, only coming hope around 10:30pm, to a grumpy looking Lindsey and my sleeping mother on the couch.

“Hey,” I said nervously and Lindsey gave me a look as if to tell me to meet her upstairs as she walked off, I sighed, waking my mom up.

“Huh what?” My mom always woke up startled, she always had since my dad died.

“You fell asleep,” I said, “Come on I think its bed time.”

“Where’s Lindsey?”

“Upstairs waiting for me so she can be angry I was gone all day,” I said with a small smile, my mom looked at me concerned, but so waved it off, “She’ll be happy when she get my present tomorrow.”

My mother smiled, “I’m so excited for it Y/N, you’re gonna do great,” She smiled and kissed my cheek as I helped her up. We walked upstairs together in silence, turning off the lights as we went, and I waved her goodbye when she went to her room and I went to mine.

When I walked in the bedroom, Lindsey was there, on the bed, looking at me with a stern face, looking down to her phone when I caught her eyes.

“Hey baby,” I said a little nervous, “You want to brush your teeth with me?”

“I already got ready for bed,” she replied, looking to her phone for a distraction and I sighed, going to get ready on my own.

When I did finally finish getting ready, it was already almost 11, and I slipped into bed next to Lindsey as she had turned away from me, I didn’t like the feeling, we’d always talked about our issues before bed.

“Linds.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, softly placing my hand on her shoulder, she turned over and I couldn’t help but smile as her drowsy looking face, “I had to go out.”

“And leave me all day?” She pouted, “You’re mom is lovely, don’t get me wrong, I just missed you,” she sighed, turning fully to cuddle into my chest as we got comfortable, I wrapped my arms around her.

“If it’s any consolation, I did it because I needed to make sure your present for tomorrow was perfect, it has to be.”

She opened her eyes to look at me with her icy blues, “That’s what this is all about?” She had a slight smirk on her face and I nodded.

“Trust me, it has to be great.”

“Whatever you say,” she said, “I’m sorry for being mad, I really did just miss you.”

I chuckled, “I missed you too,” I said, a long pause after that before I said, “I could spent the rest of my life with you... like this.”

I could feel her smile against my chest, “I could too.”

And with that, we fell asleep.

timeskip

The next morning had anxiety written all over it, I was nervous and scattered, but pulled myself together in the morning. We laid in of course until around 10, everyone getting out of the house before we got up as planned.

My mother would take the ring up to the mountain so I wouldn’t be caught with it. I got up first, leaving Lindsey to sleep a little longer, I went downstairs and made breakfast, avocado toast, eggs, coffee, her favorite.

“Whats all this?” I looked up to find Lindsey, already gotten ready for the day, standing at the bottom of the stairs, “Where is everyone?”

“Part of the gift,” I said, as she sat down at the dining table, “They all wanted to go shopping apparently and I didn’t want to get you up.”

“Thanks baby,” she said, pecking my lips before we did go to our food.

After breakfast Lindsey cleaned up while I got ready. When I came downstairs, I was excited to start dragging Lindsey into the day, almost overly excited.

“You ready?” I asked.

“For what?” She laughed as she looked up from her phone, her dazzling smile and cute laugh almost making me pass out completely.

“You really are so beautiful you know,” I said dopy, as she stood up, I pulled her into a tight hug, and she pulled back, scattering kisses on my face that made me laugh.

“Stop, it tickles!” I giggled and she laughed again as we embraced, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said head on my shoulder, “So... what are we doing today? This is the ist I’ve seen you plan for anything.”

“I know,” I laughed, “All you have to do is follow,” I smiled.

“Oh god,” she laughed, “Is this gonna be a mess?”

“I hope not,” I smiled, pulling her to the front door, “Now come on, let’s go!”

Our first stop was the ice rink at the mall, I hated ice skating, but Lindsey was a Colorado native who adored these winter sports. I didn’t want to rent the whole rink because I felt like that’d give the proposal away, and anyway, it was a good excuse to get to the next activity when it got crowded.

We skated for at least an hour and a half, and I never got use to it, fumbling and falling over my own feet as Lindsey skated right by, laughing as she watched me absolutely bomb.

“Okay, as much as I love skating, I love you more and cannot watch you face plant on the ice anymore,” she laughed as she hoisted me up from the ground.

“Thank god,” I mumbled as we got off the ice, thanking the front desk before leaving.

“What next muestro,” she asked and I chuckled.

“You’ll see,” I replied.

Our next stop was the Red Butte Garden, a beautiful garden with many types of evergreens and flowers, mostly inside greenhouses due to the cold weather. But it was beautiful, and after buying some hot chocolate, we were able to spent hours in there looking around. I found ways to sneak around a bit, going to the bathroom at one point just to check everyone was almost in place.

Lindsey and I spent hours in that garden, something she just adored. After that we went to go get churros before heading home to watch a movie or two before we’d head to the mountain trail.

By the time the second movie was over, I stood up, “One last thing babe.”

“It’s almost midnight, what else could you possibly have?” She asked with a laugh.

“I know your tired, but I need you to get on some really warm clothes and then put this blindfold on.

“A blindfold?” She asked as I tossed it at her, “That’s a little weird,” she smirked and I rolled my eyes.

“We’re going out Linds, don’t get any ideas, trust me okay.”

She sighed, “I’m tired, but now I’m interested, I’ll bite.”

“Okay, it’s literally a two minute walk, just trust me okay,” I said.

“I’ve been doing that up to this point so I might as well,” she laughed and I kissed her cheek, holding her hand as I guided her up the mountain, it was perfect, 10 to 12.

I was so happy to see the whole team on the mountain, both Lindsey’s family and mine standing there too in coats and warm clothing.

“You warm enough babe?” I asked as we got to the top, me waving at everyone with a huge smile, this was successful as far as I was concerned.

“Yeah, can I take it off now?” She asked.

“Yeah go ahead,” I said, and she did, of course she was facing the arch looming out to the moonlight.

“Wow,” she said breathlessly, “This is beautiful,” she said.

“Turn around,” I said next to her.

“Hmmm?” She asked confused.

“Look behind you,” I whispered, she did, gasping.

“OH MY GOD,” she yelled and everyone laughed.

She kissed my lips before running around to greet everyone, we managed to get around everyone until Ashlyn stood on a rock to count us down to midnight. We all had champagne in our hands, ready for the new year.

I stood there with Lindsey, my mother passing behind my back and dripping the ring in my back pocket. We looked out from the arch towards the night sky.

“3...2...1... HAPPY NEW YEAR!” We yelled, I pulled Lindsey in for a kiss, the fireworks sparking just at the right moment and as we pulled apart she smiled, I leaned in close.

“Look at the fireworks,” I said, backing up behind her and finally being able to do what I’d planned for weeks.

“Will,” she read with the first boom, cameras clicking and recording, “You,” she read next, still not getting it until the last boom, “marry me.”

“Linds,” I said and she spun around, eyes wide as she clasped her hand over her mouth in shock, “Lindsey Michelle Horan. Ive been with you for four years and in that time I’ve realized that I want to be with you for the rest of my life, through thick and thin, good times and bad. I want to watch us grow, I want to be with you and only you. And so now I’m asking, if you, Lindsey, will marry me?”

I looked at her waiting, and through tears and a gasps she managed to respond, “Yes,” she replied, coming over as I slipped the ring on her finger, standing up and wrapping her in a hug, pushing our lips together amongst the wolf whistles and cheers.

“This was the present?” She asked wiping tears away and I nodded, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” I smiled, tearing up myself.

“And you were all in on this?!” She yelled at them, gaining laughs from them as they nodded.

“Nice holiday surprise then huh?” I asked.

“The best,” she smiled.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #lindsey horan

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wonderlustlucas · 4 years

Text

jack pot ; part 1 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader, seo changbin x female reader for like 2 minutes ⇢ word count 7.5k ⇢ genre fluff, angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way), slight smut ⇢ warnings drug use!!! & lots of it (marijuana), grinding, implied smut ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n yo!!! disclaimer: this initially was going to just be a long one shot but i decided to split it up into 3 parts, so just to let u all know part 1 & 2 does not have a ton of hyunjin interaction, they’re more character/plot building. part 3 is when things will get spicy ♥︎ i hope u enjoy! if u rb make sure to let me know what u thought in the tags mwah also i finally switched from ___ to yn are u guys proud of me :)

prelude.

Sometimes you really, truly, honestly think you could go right ahead and kill Han Jisung.

You say it all the time. Sometimes it’s a simple, “I will literally kill you,” or when you are feeling extra spicy, “Sleep with one eye open tonight.” He, of course, laughs it off like you aren’t vibrating with the urge to kick his kneecaps in. You seriously have lost count of all the times he has brought you to the brink of insanity.

And honestly, you have watched enough murder documentaries on Netflix that you probably could do it, but, you know, spending the rest of your life in prison does not sound that appealing. Plus, there’s the ever-troubling detail that Han Jisung is the closest thing you have to a best friend. So, it sort of goes against your basic human morals to backstab—literally—the most important human in your life.

But he really makes you crazy. Why you agreed to share an apartment with him in the first place is a mystery, but the fact that you leased it again for junior year is what really makes you lose sleep at night. Because, while he may be your best friend, Jisung is the epitome of a little shit. If such a compound word was in the dictionary, it simply would say ‘Han Jisung.’ Somehow, though, it makes you love him even more. Maybe it’s true that ‘opposites attract,’ or, perhaps, maybe it’s because no matter how much embarrassment and general self-loathing he may have caused you in the past, it has benefitted you in the end.

For example, his constant teasing about your lack of friends eventually led to you befriending a group of girls you always admired from afar. His snarky comments concerning your nonexistent social life finally got to you and now you can proudly wear the title of one of the best beer pong players in your class. His presence in general has taught you to stand up for yourself and what you believe in, whether it’s against him, your parents, a toxic friend, hell, even a professor. Proving people wrong, especially Jisung, is your favorite pastime.

Sometimes, though, it’s not that easy.

There’s one area in your life where you have accepted defeat. One area in your life where Jisung has his most fun. One area, or, perhaps one person, where you simply cannot step beyond your comfort zone.

Hwang Hyunjin is your Achilles tendon and Jisung is the arrow. There are times, along with all the times you’ve considered strangling Jisung in his sleep, where you have sat and actually prayed to the gods to send someone else. Someone not nearly as perfect as Hyunjin and someone not nearly as unattainable. Alas, these prayers, hook-ups, Tinder dates, anything to get him off your mind has proved futile; because here you are three years later, stuck with this stupid, absolutely infuriating crush on the only boy who has ever owned your heart because you outright gave it to him.

one.

You are beginning to think the two bubbly junior girls who led the campus tour you attended last year lied about the dining hall.

Correction: they one hundred percent lied.

Because even though the newly renovated food court looks nice—unscratched linoleum floors, shiny marble countertops and all sorts of seating to choose from—there must be something fishy going on with the cooks. Literally. Just last week, an upperclassman had a breakdown when she forked into her tuna (why anyone would want college seafood is another story) to find a worm right there in the middle of it. You have found little shards of glass in the yogurt and bugs even at You-Cook, but that’s all a part of the college experience, right?

“Are you sure there’s no spiders or anything? Did you check?” Beside you, Maddie watches with furrowed brows as you spoon a hefty serving of scrambled eggs onto your plate. Chuckling, you move down to grab a few sausages and a chocolate chip muffin before they are gone for the rest of the day; Lord knows, you are only a month in and carbohydrates have quickly become your emotional support, just like everyone else. “Yes, I checked,” you assure her, hiding a laugh with your hand as she leans over to further scrutinize the eggs, “I didn’t see any arachnids.”

“Good,” she hums, satisfied with your answer, “can you grab a banana muffin for me? They’re usually at the bottom.”

Nodding, you turn back to the blessed muffin basket, pushing away blueberry, corn, double chocolate, all because Maddie has to be different and go for the macadamia nut banana.

“Are those the dinosaur socks they were selling on move-in day?” In front of you, someone asks, and your first instinct is to look down at your feet just to confirm. 8:30 calculus simply turns your brain to mush and remembering how you dressed for the day is near impossible. “Yes!” Laughing, you lift your leg to get a closer look at the cute green t-rexes on skates. “I was sold once I heard they were a dollar.”

Tearing your gaze away from said socks, you look up and suddenly feel as if you have bumped into an angel. Maybe there were spiders in the eggs, deadly poisonous spiders that crawled up the spoon while you weren’t paying attention and bit your hand and now you are dead and this is the angel leading you to the heavens. That, or this simply is the most beautiful human you have ever seen up close and your brain does not know how to process it. Well, maybe that’s a little extreme, but you definitely have never been so starstruck in your life.

The boy in front of you says something but you don’t hear it, senses and thoughts momentarily Off™ as you gawk at him. Aside from the deep undereye bags you all have claimed the past few weeks, this stranger is as close to perfect as you can get. Sure, Seungmin and his roommates are pretty cute—but what the fuck?

Something tells you that you have been silently staring at him, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open for far too long when his brows raise in a mix of confusion and expectation. Shit. What did he say? Synapses suddenly shooting like fireworks in your brain, you desperately try to remember his reply but instead, all you had focused on was the plumpness of his lips as he spoke and not the words themselves.

Clearing your throat, you blink once, twice, hoping you were hallucinating the whole time and the boy in front of you is not Hercules incarnate.

Lucky for you or him, you can’t tell, but he is still as attractive as he was two seconds ago. “Sorry, what?” You blurt, loud, too loud, flinching at the sound of your own voice. Instead of recognizing that you are totally off your rocker, he smiles, a soft, toothy smile that has your muscles turning to goo.

“I said I bought them, too,” cutest-boy-in-the-universe repeats, looking down and you follow his gaze, “my roommates were making fun of me, so I’m glad I finally found someone who bought them.” Alas, as he tugs at the fabric of his jeans to slightly lift the cuff you see that he, too, wears the same socks. You think you’re in love.

“Well, your roommates clearly have no taste,” you deadpan, shakily meeting his eyes once he looks back up. He laughs softly, eyes scrunching at the action and you positively swoon until silence settles over you and he takes the opportunity to regard you, gaze sweeping down your frame and up again. You hold your breath because, 1) holy shit, you would get on your knees for him right now and 2) you suddenly wish you were wearing more than the ‘just-woke-up-to-get-pegged-by-calc’ fit.

“I’m Hyunjin,” he finally says and you release all the air trapped in your lungs. “YN,” you return, grasping his outreached hand and thanking the heavens it is as sweaty as yours. “Well, it was nice to meet you, YN,” Hyunjin proceeds, releasing your hand and offering a gentle smile.

“You too, Mr. Sock Man,” you grin, rocking on your heels and realizing with a pang of disappointment that your breakfast has probably gone cold. Well, that’s okay, because right now you are totally content standing here in the middle of the dining hall, silently staring at this Hyunjin with a stupid smile plastered on your face. And the best part? He apparently is just fine doing that, too.

“YN!” Somewhere behind you, Maddie calls your name and it thrusts you head-first back into reality. “Did you find a banana muffin? I can’t find— oh. Who’s this?” Appearing beside you, visibly shocked having found you in a staring contest with a very tall, very cute boy. “Oh, uh,” you huff out a laugh, scrambling to get yourself together, “Hyunjin, this is Maddie, my roommate. Maddie, this is Hyunjin. We have the same socks.”

Brows shooting up at the puzzling introduction, Maddie bites back a laugh and looks back and forth between you and Hyunjin. “Well, you don’t hear that every day,” smiling to hide her confusion, she offers him a small wave with her hand full of muffin packs, “nice to meet you.”

Hyunjin smiles in return, gaze quickly returning to you. “I’ll be off, then. Gotta get the waffles while they’re still warm. I’ll see you around.”

And before you know it, he’s off toward the other end of the breakfast counter.

“Um, what the fuck?” Maddie whispers excitedly as you make your way toward your usual table, elbow repeatedly jabbing into your side. “I have no idea what just happened. I think I’m dreaming,” you sigh blissfully, relieved to find that Jisung and Seungmin were able to claim your favorite booth. “No, definitely not dreaming. He’s totally into you. You have to hang out.”

“What?” You sputter, nearly tripping over your own two feet. Then, lowering your voice as you near the two boys, “I – no, he isn’t. How can you tell? That was like, the cutest guy I’ve ever talked to, and you think he’s into me?”

“Who’s the cutest guy ever?” Jisung pipes up, eyes lighting up and you curse him and his fucking bat hearing.

“No one,” you grumble, smiling softly at Seungmin when he gets up so you don’t have to sit on the end, leaving Maddie to sit next to the other one. “Is it me?” Jisung grins with a flutter of his eyelashes. He’s convinced the only reason you dislike him is because you’ve actually fallen in love with him, but that’s far from the truth. You don’t even dislike him—he’s just one of the first guys you’ve met who meets your sarcasm with as much ferocity, and that is a hard pill to swallow.

“In your dreams, Han,” you sneer, gracing him with a dramatic eye roll before tearing open the bag of your muffin. Comfortable conversation quickly falls into place as you eat, complaints about your classes, Seungmin trying to convince you to join them at the first party they will be attending while Jisung mocks you for wanting to stay home, Maddie asking where Felix is and Seungmin explaining that he got so high last night he ended up staying up past four playing Overwatch and is currently sleeping past all his classes.

Then, in the midst of guzzling your apple juice, Jisung leans out of his seat to call down the aisle. “Hwang! Come pull a chair over!”

Curiosity peaked, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and crane your neck to see over Seungmin’s fat head for who this ‘Hwang’ could be until, like the universe is really trying to kill you, the Hyunjin you met not even ten minutes ago has reached your table. “Hey,” he grins brightly, dabbing up the two boys before he glances to you, mouth promptly falling open. Certain you mirror the same expression, you struggle to find your words as Jisung and Seungmin look between you in shared confusion. “First we share socks, now it’s these dumpheads?”

Ignoring the way they scowl, Hyunjin giggles shamelessly and grabs a chair from an adjacent table to sit at the head of your booth. “It would seem that way.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. You guys know each other?” Jisung scoffs in disbelief, pointedly looking at you as if you’ve gone and disproved everything he pegged of you. “We just met,” Hyunjin replies with a shy smile, sparing you a quick glance before cutting into his waffle. Jisung looks to you and you offer an affirmative nod.

“And how are you guys friends?” Maddie asks, sensing your panic. “He’s Changbin and Minho’s roommate,” Seungmin answers.

You choke on a mouthful of juice.

“Christ, you good?” Seungmin snickers, offering a few slaps to your back. With a muffled yes, you look to Hyunjin with pleading eyes. “Please don’t tell them I said they have no taste.”

He laughs, arching a brow at you. “No way. They’ll get a kick out of that.”

“Oh, Christ,” faking a cry, you bury your face into your palms, “so much for making friends.”

“It’s okay, YN,” Jisung soothes with faux sympathy, “no one wants to be your friend anyway.”

Scoffing, the table quickly falls silent when you look up with rage in your eyes. “I bet when someone asks your parents about you, they change the subject,” you spit, shooting daggers at him before stabbing your fork into an innocent chunk of egg. To your utmost surprise but total delight, the other three burst into a fit of laughter, leaving you smirking smugly and Jisung sulking.

“Anyway,” Maddie promptly changes the subject back to her chemistry professor who has started every class playing Britney Spears. Tucked away in your corner finishing the last of your sausage and stifling the urge to get up for more, it isn’t until Hyunjin begins to speak do you realize that you have been quietly watching him the entire time. You would blame the soft morning sunshine shining through the windows and illuminating the right side of his face for making him look so ethereal, but you know that isn’t the case; from short, messy black hair, silver hoop earrings, thick, defined brows, the soft curves of his nose and the pouty fullness of his lips, you are totally, completely mesmerized.

And then, the sole of a sneaker is slammed right into your shin. “OW!” You yelp, loud, and for a moment you forget the pain in favor of the embarrassment that comes with the number of heads that turn to look at you. “Sorry. Bit my tongue,” you lie, earning an unconvinced look from Maddie. “Go on,” you nod toward Hyunjin to continue whatever he was saying before directing a furious glare to Jisung, who fails to hide his triumphant smirk as he enthusiastically types on his phone.

Just as you have bent down to rub at your throbbing leg, your phone vibrates twice against the table.

han jisung [now] stop staring, ur lucky hwang is as dense as a rock or he would have left a long time ago bc of you

han jisung [now] so THAT’S the ‘cutest guy ever’ huh? so ur straight after all

Squeezing your hands into fists, you prepare to fire back a reply that will have him crying. But he has different plans.

“Oh, Hyunjin, did YN tell you she’s a dancer, too?” He exaggerates your previous mention of dancing and has the audacity to wink at you. Thanks, Mr. Match Maker.

“Really?” Hyunjin gasps excitedly, eyes lighting up and totally missing the flabbergasted what? that sputters from your lips.

“I – well, no,” you hiss, scowling at Jisung, “I used to do ballet when I was younger but that’s it. Why, though? Do you dance?”

“He’s here on a scholarship,” Seungmin explains, “and minors in creative writing.”

“Oh,” you squeak, glancing to Hyunjin who is all but smiling like a cherub, completely oblivious, “that’s amazing. You must have a crazy schedule.” Chewing the last of his waffle, he hums in agreement. “Yeah, it gets really stressful at times. But it’s worth it,” Hyunjin chuckles. Then fucking winks.

Unable to hold his gaze, you whip your head back around in a panic and reach for the mere sip left of your juice. “Speaking of crazy schedules,” he hums, slapping both Jisung and Seungmin on the shoulders, “I must head out. This was fun. I may start crashing the party more now.” Rising from his seat, Hyunjin swings his bag over a shoulder and grins brightly. Realizing it would be rude to not say goodbye, you force yourself to look back to him and offer a feeble wave.

“And YN, don’t bite your tongue when you eat, yeah?”

You’re going to pass out.

two.

Felix likes to think of you as his corrupted child when it comes to smoking weed.

A few weeks before you would all be returning home for winter break, he came knocking on your door with a proposition. “No one wants to smoke with me. Do you want to?”

This, for sure, was not what you were expecting on a cold Tuesday night in December. Despite the general curiosity and always wanting to ‘try it’ simply to feel like a teenager breaking the rules, you told him you never smoked before. “I know,” he said with a smile, “that’s why I’m asking.”

So, you agreed. Reaching for your hand, Felix snuck you out the window and led you halfway across campus to the junior parking lot, giving you ample opportunities to back out when he felt how badly you were shaking. “Whose car is this?” You laughed in disbelief when he unlocked a beaten-up Nissan near the outskirts of the lot.

“Kim Woojin. The junior?” He replied once you settled in the passenger seat next to him. “Oh.” You blinked, confused. “He lets you smoke in his car?”

“He gets me weed, too,” Felix giggled, reaching into the pockets of his sweatshirt and coming out with two tightly wrapped blunts, each about two inches long, “I’ll turn the heat on a little so we don’t freeze but we have to keep the windows open. I’m not going to have you hotbox for your first time.” You had no idea what that meant, but you agreed nonetheless.

With a brief lesson on what to do that truly made no sense until you tried it for yourself, Felix lit the blunt, took a few small hits to get it started, and then passed it to you. Holding it gingerly between your thumb and index finger, you brought the unlit end to your lips and sucked as he instructed ‘like a straw,’ breathing it into your lungs and ignoring the faint taste of smoke. Unsure of when to stop, it wasn’t until your throat felt as if it was on fire did you realize just how much you had inhaled.

“Shit,” you wheezed, coughing and choking and watching with wide eyes at the amount of cloudy white smoke that left your mouth and nostrils. Passing it back to Felix, you scrambled for the cold water bottle he brought along, downing half of it in one go to soothe the burn. “Good?” He asked, blowing out the window and turning back to you with eyes full of concern.

“Yeah,” you huffed, “give me a few, though.”

Humming in agreement, Felix connected his phone to the car’s Bluetooth and began playing what he calls his ‘getting high playlist,’ and before long, you fell in love with the feeling.

When break was over, you were dying to try it again. Felix was more than happy to be of service.

For all of March, it turned into a daily thing.

Now, you try to smoke only once a week for the sake of not dying, or something.

australian felix kjellberg❤️ [now] come hang at 201?

When the text notification pops up in the corner of your laptop screen amid your YouTube binge, your bones jitter with a mix of dread and excitement.

Dread, because that’s Hyunjin’s room. Excitement, because that’s Hyunjin’s room.

Maddie must hear your sigh. “What’s wrong?” She asks from her cozied position in bed, hand deep in a bag of popcorn.

“It’s Felix,” you start, “but he said to go to Hyunjin’s room.”

She blinks, unfazed. “And? I don’t see the problem here.”

“Well, I don’t know,” you count on your fingers, “first, I don’t know how to act around Hyunjin sober. Second, I don’t know how to act around Hyunjin high. Third, I am very touchy when high. Fourth, Hyunjin is always touchy.”

Maddie scoffs. “That’s a pretty lame argument, YN,” she laughs, “isn’t that what you want to happen?”

“Well,” she’s got a point, “yes, but it still makes me nervous. He makes me nervous.” Closing your laptop, you shimmy out of bed and debate changing out of your cotton shorts and tee shirt. Nah. You’ll probably end up going back to Felix’s and sleeping there. You put a sports bra and deodorant on and call it a day.

Maddie finds this hilarious. “You know what should make you nervous? The fact that you’re usually the only girl getting high with, what? Six guys? You know they all want to fuck you.”

“I try not to think about that, actually,” cringing, you try to erase Felix’s voice when he’s high as a kite or Changbin’s arms from your mind, “and you don’t know that. Sometimes Ryujin and Lia are there. Or, you know, you could always come. You don’t have to smoke, just come hang out. I know you want to give Minho a fat smooch.”

Her nose wrinkles in disgust. “I love you, and I appreciate the invite, but I don’t feel like babysitting a bunch of stoners, even if Minho is there.”

Laughing, all you can offer her is a shrug. “I don’t blame you,” grabbing your phone, wallet, and charger, you make your way over to her and bend over to press a goodnight kiss to her forehead, “if you need me, don’t. I’ll probably be dead.”

“Oh Lord,” Maddie cackles, watching you struggle to open the window, “don’t die. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“I’ll try,” you grin, military saluting once you’ve managed to flop over the ledge. With one last wave, you close the window behind you and thank admissions for giving you a room on the first floor.

[9:34 PM] YN: omw now, gather your forces to help me in :)

Nights in 201 are always interesting. First, their room is on the second floor, so climbing through the window is an experience. Things would be a hell of a lot easier if you could just walk in and out of residence halls as you please, but with the officer at the front desk documenting who comes in and who goes out, there would be a knock at the door at midnight asking you to leave. Second: as Maddie said, 201 means the whole squad is showing up. And when the whole squad shows up, you’re bound to feel a mix of anxiety and desire deep within your bones no matter how hard set you are on Mr. Hwang. And third: you know you’re in for one fucked up night.

[9:42 PM] YN: hereee

Standing awkwardly behind their building, you try and calm the nerves that always come when you know you will be with Hyunjin. Considering how close the two of you have become over the past few months, one would think you would have gotten a grip on those pesky feelings.

Yet again, it’s kind of hard to do that when he looks and acts like that all the time.

When the window slides open, you are expecting Changbin to hang halfway out for you to grab on to with the rest of them holding onto his legs. Instead, a tall, metal ladder of sorts is pushed out until it lands with a thud! at your feet, granting you a perfect staircase into the room.

Well, you certainly don’t see that every day.

Blinking in confusion, you do not know whether to focus on the crowd of boys waving at you from above or this abomination of a stepstool that was practically thrown out a window for you. Accepting the chain of events as just another fever dream of an experience in 201, you shake your head and begin to ascend on shaky legs, graciously taking Jisung’s hand and clinging to both him and Seungmin as they help you into the room. “Thanks,” you huff, giving them both a hug in return to their chivalry. And they dare say it’s dead!

Behind you, Changbin and Hyunjin lift the ladder-stepstool mutation back into the room and it isn’t until they have folded it into a more compact piece and set it against the wall do you speak up.

“Did you… buy a ladder?”

“Yes!” Minho bellows, thrilled by your successful entrance. “Isn’t it great?” After pulling back from a hug, he keeps his hands on your shoulders just to shake you like a bobble-head.

“Yes,” you grunt once he’s released you, head swimming, “a lot easier than hauling both me and Changbin through the window, right?” Looking to said boy, you can’t help but melt into his side when he pulls you close. “No worries,” Changbin beams, rubbing your arm, “at least we have some funny memories now.” When he moves to flop onto his bed, you realize with a shudder that you are alone with Hyunjin.

Well, technically not alone since they are all right there, but alone in the sense that they are not paying attention to you nor him.

“Hey, YN. I missed you,” he singsongs, engulfing you in one of his monster bear hugs. Disregarding the heart palpitations they may cause, Hyunjin’s hugs are truly the best and you wish you would initiate them more if it didn’t seem like such a big deal in that smooth brain of yours. “I missed you, too,” you mutter into his chest, squeezing your arms around him as if to engrave this feeling into your mind forever. “We saw each other, like, five hours ago,” he reminds you, finally pulling back and taking your will to live with him. God, he has no idea.

“And? You’re the only one here who doesn’t make me suicidal,” you lie because, in reality, he actually does. Just in a different way. “Aw,” he coos, large hand squeezing your side and you think you could orgasm on command, “good thing we have tonight, then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you squeak, finally remembering to breathe when he steps away to sit beside Seungmin on his bed. Suddenly, you are feeling incredibly grateful no one is next to Changbin because, well, 1) he is closer to Felix and 2), you need a distraction.

“Hello, Felix,” you greet the boy sunk deep in a bean bag chair, busy grinding leaves and packing them into the bowl of a bong. “How are you this fine evening, YN?” He asks once you have settled beside Changbin, brows knitting together when the older boy drapes his arm around your waist.

“Good. Tired, though. How ‘bout you?”

“You didn’t have to come if you’re tired! We all know you work your ass off, no one’s gonna judge if you chose to stay home and sleep,” Felix expresses, giving you a look that screams ‘mom.’

“No! I’m not that tired,” you assure him, reaching for his hand and squeezing for extra effect, “you know I wouldn’t miss this. You’ve made me a pothead.”

With a proud smile, he returns to his designated job and begins working on the second, smaller bong. “So,” stretching to set your things on the desk beside Changbin’s bed, you turn to him with a knowing smile, “how’s the album coming?”

“Great!” He beams, eyes lighting up at the topic. “Jisung is a great addition. Did I tell you we started meeting with someone else, too?”

“No, who?”

“He’s a sophomore, Bang Chan?” Somewhere behind you, Felix passes a bong to Jisung for the first hit. “Bang Chan? Holy shit, Binnie,” repeatedly punching his arm to express your excitement, “that’s amazing! I didn’t know he was into music production. Not that I’ve ever talked to him, but.”

“No, I get you,” he hums, giving your side a firm squeeze, “he’s really awesome making beats. I hope we’re successful.” Then, reaching past you, he takes the second bong and a lighter from Felix. When he resituates himself, he’s considerably closer than before. You don’t mind.

“Ladies first?” Changbin offers with a crooked grin, handing them to you. Then, on second thought, he holds onto the lighter to do the honors. “Sure. Thanks,” you laugh, glancing across the room to find everyone arguing over which color to set the lights to as they wait for their high. Bringing the tube to your lips, you offer a miniscule nod to him and then he is setting flame to the bowl. Sucking strong enough to generate bubbles, you unplug the bowl once he stops and breathe in as much as your lungs can handle in one go. Then, once you have exhaled, you quickly finish what’s left in the tube before passing it to Changbin with a pleased smile.

“That was a lot,” he points out once you have handed the bong back to him. “Hey, you’re the one who kept lighting it for thirty seconds. Mother would be proud,” you joke, reciprocating the same service and lighting the bowl until he glares at you beneath his bangs.

The best part about being high is the fact that you are constantly laughing. Things won’t even be that funny, but once someone starts laughing—you’re done for. You laugh so hard it hurts, and then once it’s all over, you realize it wasn’t funny at all. “Has anyone ever told you that you look like a squirrel?” Minho asks Jisung at some point. You absolutely loose it. It quite possibly is the funniest thing you have ever heard.

Pouting, Squirrel Boy leaves Minho alone on his bed to come crash beside you. “How are you, my tender oozing blossom?”

Squinting at him past the way your eyes burn, you make grabby hands and pull him close to wrap your arms around his teeny waist. Changbin grumbles in protest, but he’s too transfixed on the light’s soft in and out fade of different colors to say anything else. “Please, don’t ever call me that again,” you mumble into Jisung’s mop of brown hair.

“What?” He gasps, tilting to look up at you with puppy eyes. “You didn’t like it?”

“Nope,” smiling lazily, you rest your head atop his, “I love you, but I’m not ready for pet names yet.” His face morphs from a frown to one lit with excitement. “Holy shit, did you just say you love me? Do my eyes deceive me?”

“That would be your ‘ears,’ but yes,” you hum, brain simply not capable of denying it the way your sober self would. “More than Changbin?” Jisung whispers.

“Yes, but don’t tell him,” you return quietly, biting back a laugh.

“More than Hyunjin?” He counters. At this, you look up to find said boy sat with his legs to his chest across the room. Next to Seungmin, he looks like a giant; but a happy, pouty giant that keeps talking about how much he could go for a winter melon tea right now.

“Never.”

One and a half (half because it was just the rest of Minho’s terribly big hit that left tears streaming down his cheeks) and an unfinished game of Cards Against Humanity later, you find yourself in a blissful headspace. The song playing quietly through Felix’s speaker makes it feel like you are bouncing down stairs and then going up again, and the lights are oh so pretty, pink fading to red, yellow to green, blue to purple and so on. Things are fuzzy but crystal clear at the same time, the popcorn you’ve been shoveling into your mouth tastes heavenly, and your body feels like it is engulfed in a warm, comforting hug.

Or, that could just be Changbin.

Somewhere in between trying to get more comfortable and him yanking you to stay next to him when you attempted to get up and hug Seungmin for something sweet he said, you now find yourself on your back with a clinging Changbin on your side. You are so comfortable, but also insanely hot, and as you begin to slowly come down from your high as the hours tick by, you begin to realize it’s for another reason.

What started as an innocent hand on your side turned into his thumb rubbing meaningless patterns against your shirt, which then turned into his hand slipping beneath to splay against the warmth of your skin. Growing increasingly needy as the minutes go by, you turn to look at everyone around you. Jisung, who found himself returning to Minho, appears to be passed out with him on the far end of the room. Seungmin, curled up on the floor with a pillow and a heap of blankets. Felix, who finished off the rest of his weed, scrolls aimlessly on his phone still at the peak of his high.

And Hyunjin, who you assume has been fast asleep on his bed for a while now if the arm flung over his face tells you anything. For a moment, you feel sick with sadness. So close, but so far he lies, always a step out of reach. But you can’t deny how Changbin makes you feel—for right now, at least. And it would be a shame to miss out on an opportunity with someone else because the one you want is unattainable.

Right?

Changbin must sense the way your breathing increases, must feel the way your body reacts to the slightest of touches, yet he takes his time. He is soft in the way his hand travels up your arm, rough fingertips grazing over your collarbones before smoothing down over your chest and abdomen. It isn’t until you are about to burst at the seams does he give your ass a strong squeeze and urge your leg over his hips.

“Changbin,” you sigh, biting your lip to keep from whimpering when he begins pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the length of your throat. “Please touch me.”

He only makes a sound of agreement, savoring the way you squirm and grip onto his arm for dear life. When he offers an experimental roll of his hips to grind against you, you practically go feral. The last time you were touched in such a way was at a party in the beginning of the semester Jisung and co. physically forced you to go to, and Changbin has barely even touched you and it’s already better than the rushed sex you had that night.

“Wait,” he huffs, pausing his ministrations no matter how difficult it is to do so, “we can’t.”

“What?” You hiss, trying to keep your voice quiet, “why?”

“Because you’re high, and I’m high, and I’m not going to do anything unless you really want me to,” Changbin explains, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips when you frown in response. “But I do want you to,” you huff, chasing his mouth for another, “I trust you one hundred percent.”

“Are you sure, YN?” What about Hyunjin? is what he really means and you know he’s right. You should have never told Felix.

Trying to ignore the wetness of your underwear, you turn to lie on your back. “Whatever. Never mind,” you mumble, and when you glance back to him, you can’t help the way your heart soars with him still pressed closely to your side, blinking tiredly at you. But like he said, it’s not Hyunjin. “Just get some sleep, Binnie. Forget it happened,” smiling past the tears that threaten to spill, you ruffle his hair and press a softer kiss to his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Changbin whispers, returning the affection with a kiss to your shoulder. In minutes, he is snoring softly beside you.

You can’t fall asleep to save your life.

Reaching for your phone to check the time, you grit your teeth once you realize it’s almost four and you definitely have been staring at the ceiling for more than an hour. For starters, you are freezing now; unlike these passed out hooligans, you are showing a lot more skin and not being under the blankets is not doing you well. And secondly, it’s hard to fall asleep when your thoughts are flying miles a minute.

Is this how it’s going to be, then? Whenever you see someone, will the little guy on your shoulder whisper in your ear that it’s not Hyunjin? Or will people deem you off limits because they know of your infatuation? People who know, at least—Changbin is the first, apparently.

Just need to get comfy, you decide, trying to ignore such thoughts and turning to lie on your stomach. Bless Felix for leaving the lights on, too—you may be coming down from your high, but the vibe is simply immaculate. Tucking a hand under your cheek and following the ropes of light on the ceiling and up the walls, you find this to be enough to calm your nerves. Enough to make your eyelids heavy. Finally.

Someone lets out a monster train snore. Seungmin, you think, biting your lip to keep from laughing. Or, it could be Hyunjin. The thought is so amusing you can’t help but squint at the boy across from you to better see his outline, hoping he will do it again just to confirm.

No, not Hyunjin.

Because he’s facing you, eyes open, a soft smile plastered on his face. Well, fuck.

No reason to panic, you console yourself, returning a gentle smile in the assumption he can even see you. And you stay like that for a while, simply watching one another for an infinite amount of time. It’s not much, but it means something, you think, lost in the way the contours and highlights of his face change with each color the lights fade to. Just as you remember the whole point of getting on your stomach was to fall asleep, Hyunjin moves. Reaching for his phone, you watch in confusion as he brings it close to his face and starts typing.

hwang hyunjin👁👄👁 [now] Come sleep w me?

You almost throw up in your mouth. You must be dreaming. Surely.

Blinking against the harsh light of your phone, you cannot help your smile as you reread the text.

[4:02 am] YN: wont that b a little sus for bin

[4:02 am] hwang hyunjin👁👄👁: If anyone asks just say he kept kicking u or something

You don’t need to be told twice. Now that he has turned onto his side facing the other direction, Changbin does not stir once you slowly move to sit up and stand, nor when you reach for the quilt crumbled at the foot of the bed to pull over him. It’s not much, but hopefully it will keep him from waking in a few hours freezing to death. Then, as you tiptoe your way over to Hyunjin’s bed, avoiding Felix now that he’s sprawled half way off the bean bag, you cannot tell if you are still shivering from the cold or if the fact you are going to be sleepingwith Hyunjin in one, tiny single bed is finally clicking in your brain. Like Maddie said, this is something you want, right?

As you draw closer, Hyunjin shifts to make room and lifts the covers for you to quietly slip beneath. “Thank you,” you whisper, pulling the blanket up to your chin and trying to ignore the feeling of being so close to him. “Of course. You looked real cold over there,” he smiles tiredly. Then, his arm cautiously curls around you to rest by your head, fingers swiping stray hairs away from your face.

“I was,” you admit. Eyes level to his lips, you strain to look him in the eyes to resist the temptation now that he’s pulled you so close. “Changbin fell asleep and I felt bad waking him.”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply. He seems momentarily lost in thought, brows slightly furrowed as he chews on the inside of his lip.

“Do you like him?” He finally asks, voice shaky with hesitation.

“What?” You sputter, shocked at such a presumption. Yet again…

“No, no I don’t. I mean—as a friend, yes, but, you know,” you trail off, squeezing your eyes shut. You desperately wish you were not having this conversation right now. “He was touching you, though. And it looked like you liked it,” Hyunjin whispers, thumb swiping against your cheekbone.

“I mean, well yeah, I did. But I’m not close enough to like him like that. It’s just a physical attraction,” realizing you are discussing what went down with Changbin to Hyunjin, you suddenly pull back and lean up on an elbow to get a better look at him, heat now spreading up your limbs like fire. “Were you watching us, Hwang?”

“Yes,” he admits, “it’s kind of hard not to.” Your heart stops beating.

“I – what?” You manage once you have remembered how to breathe. “I didn’t know you were awake, we wouldn’t have… what do you mean, ‘it’s kind of hard not to?’”

“You know what I mean, YN,” Hyunjin mutters, arm slipping around your waist and pulling you to lie down with him again, this time, your chest pressed to his. “I like looking at you. You’re very pretty.”

You definitely must still be high, because you are seriously having a hard time wrapping your mind around Hyunjin calling you pretty, as well as being so close, and somewhere deep in your mind wonders if he knows. If he knows how your heart is on the line here. Knows that with him moving closer, you are taking a huge risk.

When Hyunjin kisses you, you forget that this could be the worst mistake you’ve made in a long time. Wrapped around his fingers, you pray this is his way of saying he feels the same.

“YN!” You wake to Seungmin gently shaking your shoulder. “YN, wake up. Your phone has been vibrating for twenty minutes now. It’s Maddie.”

The wave of panic washing over you dispels the grogginess you feel from suddenly being yanked from sleep, as well as the recognition of where you are and who you’re with. Frantic, you sit up and nod in thanks to him before taking the call. “Hello?”

“Oh, thank God you answered,” Maddie cries, voice choked, “I’m sorry, I know you’re still out, but I just threw up and I feel so terrible and when I get up I feel so nauseous. Can you come home?”

“Shit, Maddie, don’t apologize,” you whisper, rushing to grab your things as Seungmin unfolds The Ladder as quietly as possible, “I’m leaving now. Don’t move, you don’t want it to get worse. I’ll be there as fast as I can, okay?”

“Okay,” she whimpers before hanging up.

“Thank you, Minnie,” pressing a kiss to his cheek, you begin to climb down. “Is everything okay?” He asks, watching as you go with a worried frown. “Yes, it’s fine. Just a little emergency, don’t worry,” praying no one is out and about watching as you climb from the back of their building, you rush back to help Maddie as fast as you can.

You stay back in your dorm with Maddie for the rest of the weekend, fetching her water and ginger ale and food she can handle, helping her to the restroom, and binging all sorts of shows and movies with her. Seungmin, Jisung, and Minho visit Sunday evening, joining you for a few hours to watch Pokémon. You think it’s just because Minho knew it would be a good opportunity to snuggle with Maddie.

You can’t help but feel disappointed when Hyunjin isn’t with them. You refrained from telling Maddie what happened in 201, too caught up wanting to make sure she was alright, and by now you are starting to feel as if it wasn’t even real. Maybe you made the whole night up in your marijuana-infused brain. And snuggled up with Jisung, you can’t help but wish it was this annoying shit you were falling in love with.

On Monday morning, Hyunjin doesn’t show up for breakfast. On Tuesday, you find out he has been hanging out with a girl he met at his favorite boba joint and apparently won’t shut up about. First, you run back to your dorm to cry to Maddie, having to explain all of Friday night to her. When she leaves for her lab, you call Felix for an emergency smoke session. When Maddie texts that she is going to be out late working on a project, you call Changbin to tell him that you really do want him to.

Like you said, it’s just a physical attraction, right?

⇢ part 2

546 notes · View notes

sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 3 years

Note

Hey, I really love your writing! I noticed there's so little Usagi content (including from myself), so maybe if it's not too much, you can do the sfw alphabet with her? I'd like to see how you'd write her, thanks <3

Yep I’d love to! I wanted to write something for her as well so I’m happy you asked ❤️

SFW Alphabet | Yuzuha Usagi

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

{Main Masterlist}

Character: Usagi

Genre: fluff

Usagi gif credit

*Based in real life, not in the Borderland

A - Affection

(How affectionate are they? How would they show affection?)

Shy bean

She’s not the most confident when it comes to affection, but she would love it to no end

Her love language would be acts of service

She would love just taking time out of her day to do things for you

She’s a sweetheart, so she’s always trying to put yourself in front of her no matter what

When she did want affection, she would have trouble having confidence to just straight up ask to cuddle, worried that she’ll annoy you

But you’d be able to tell when she did, because she would follow you around and try to keep your attention on her

B - Best Friend

(How would they be as a best friend?)

She’d be the most loyal and trusting best friend

She’s definitely the mum friend when she’s in a group, always trying to make sure no one gets into trouble and always checking if everyone’s eaten

She would be so friendly and trustworthy, probably spends a lot of time with you on free days and go out on little dates together

But she is so protective of the ones she loves

If anyone tried to hurt you or offend you, she would be so angry

Would become more mad than you at the person

Just don’t come between her and her best friend

C - Cuddles

(Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

After having a really tough day, or maybe missing her father, the thing she would adore more than anything is a really long cuddle session with you

You two would flop onto the couch and snuggle into one another, talking about your day was and pressing kisses on one another every now and then

You’d probably end up falling asleep, because her cuddles are so relaxing

Brushes her hand through your hair and scratches your head like a cat

Her favourite way to cuddle would just be lying next to each other while facing each other

She would like it because she can see your face and can cuddle as close to your as possible while still being able to kiss your face

D - Domestic

(Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking at cleaning?)

She’s such a mum, she would literally act like a wife the day you moved in together

She wouldn’t be incredibly fast to want to move in with you

Like maybe one and a half years together before you both even started thinking about it

She would be so excited though

I feel like she would love house plants, and also fish

You’d have a huge fish tank in the lounge room, and sometimes she would just sit and stare at them swimming around

She knows how to cook, so she would mainly cook the meals

Unless you wanted to help her, which she would always love

Probably ends in a food fight though with cracked eggs on both of your heads and Usagi complaining about the mess

E - Ending

(If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

She seems incredibly mature, so I think she would handle a breakup in the most healthy way possible

She would be upset for a while, but would wish for you guys to remain as friends after you’ve both been apart

If you broke up with her, she would take it really well

But if you didn’t give her a proper reason as to why you wanted to split up, she would get really upset and possibly struggle to act friendly with you again

If she broke up with you, she would feel so guilty about it, even if she had a really good reason to

She has such a big heart, so making you feel upset would crush her

F - Fiancé(e)

(How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

She would dream about marrying you

She’d be so open about it though

Like she would call you wife/husband/hunny without even meaning to

You honestly wouldn’t even have to get married because it would already feel like you were

She has such commitment for you, like she would devote everything to you

She’s literally not going anywhere, as long as you were in her life

G - Gentle

(How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

She would be so gentle with you both physically and emotionally during the first few months of the relationship

But as time went on, she would become more confident and less careful in her actions

She would like to playfight with you I feel

But she would always win, because she’s a climber with incredibly strong arms and legs

Sometimes she would run up behind you and jump onto your back in a surprise piggyback ride while laughing

Emotionally, she would always remain so gentle and understanding when it came to how you were feeling

Your comfort would always come first in every situation, so she would constantly check if you were feeling okay

This would range from when you were in a crowded place to when you were in bed together

Such a considerate and caring woman, she would make you feel so safe and comfortable when it came to expressing your feelings

H - Hugs

(Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Hugs 24/7

She can never get enough of them

Especially reunion hugs, like if one of you went away for a few days or even when one of your arrived back home from work, she would always love it when you run up to each other and jump into each other’s arms

Hugs from you would always make her so happy

Any chance she could get, she would wrap her strong arms around you and squeeze you as tight as possible

Her hugs are so sweet though

Every time she gave you one, it would send butterflies through your stomach

But it would also make you feel so comforted

I - I Love You

(How fast do they say the L-word?)

She would treat the phrase like it would be committing her life to you

It would be such a big deal for both of you when she said it

It would take her a few months

But she would say it during a really sad moment actually

She had a bad day, being yelled at by her boss at work and it was also the anniversary of her father’s death, as well as her car broke down on the way home

She would come over to your house with tears down her face, searching for some comfort from you

You would make her a hot drink and sit on the couch for hours, just letting her cry into your chest and comforting her

She would realize then how much she loved and trusted you

Seeing you become so protective and concerned about her would make her realize that she wanted to spend her life with you in that moment

So it would just slip out, and you would say it back without hesitation

J - Jealousy

(How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

She would be somewhere in the middle in terms of jealousy

She wouldn’t be overly jealous, because she trusts you a lot

But if someone was too get a little too comfortable, she would put herself between you two

Although it rarely happens

If you were to flirt with someone else, it would upset her more than anything else

She’s confident in your love for her, so most of the time she wouldn’t ever think to worry about being jealous

But if something was to happen, I think her reaction would just be to pull you away from the person she’s jealous of

K - Kisses

(What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Random little kisses all the time

Even when just passing each other in the house, she would give you a quick peck on the lips

Her kisses are really delicate and gentle

Like she very much takes her time when it comes to loving you

She would like to kiss you on the nape of your neck

She always back hugs you and kisses you there while your doing work or cooking or something

Cute little cliché kisses

Like she would probably recreated the spiderman kiss with you

Or in the rain she would randomly pull you close and place her lips onto yours

L - Little Ones

(How are they around children?)

She would love kids so much

She’d literally play with them for hours

She finds them so cute and so entertaining, always bringing up having her own kids with you

She would definitely want to be a mother one day

Usagi loves the thought of having a happy family that she can look after and watch grow up

So if you have little siblings/nephew or nieces/cousins, she would literally melt every time she saw them

She has such strong motherly vibes, I just think all kids would love her so much

M - Morning

(How are mornings spent with them?)

She usually wakes up early and goes on a jog or to the gym

So most of the time she wouldn’t bother you and just leave you sleeping

But if she got back and you still hadn’t woken up, she would have a quick shower then crawl over you and stroke your face softly until you woke

“Good morning sleepyhead, it’s almost noon.”

Would sometimes wake you up with a hundred kisses all over your face

On the days you wake up early with her, you would go jogging or to the gym together to spend the time with one another

But then you would get back home and laze around for the next few hours

N - Night

(How are nights spent with them?)

I feel like she wouldn’t often stay up really late, so most nights she would be asleep before you

But it often takes her a while to fall asleep, so most nights you would stay up with her and talk and kiss

Would probably read a book before sleeping sometimes

The nights she would stay up light would be only due to you watching a movie together or if you went out on a late date

But most nights with Usagi would be really chill and cuddly

O - Open

(When would they start revealing things about themselves?)

She would take a while to open up, because she has an introverted personality

But when she eventually does, she becomes so much more confident in showing her affection for you and acting like herself

Opening up about deep subjects wouldn’t be a problem for her after a while, because she would love and trust you with anything

Like if something was bothering her, she wouldn’t hesitate to let you know

Unless she thought she was being a bother, which could never happen

Sometimes she would worry that she was reflecting her problems onto you

So you would have to reassure her that her feelings and worries always come first

P - Patience

(How easily angered are they?)

She’s super chill, nothing could ever anger her

She handles most situations incredibly maturely, so she wouldn’t have a reason to get mad really

In terms of arguments between you two, she prefers to see it from your side as well, so she can understand why you might be upset

She would always have a solution to frustrating issues

The only reason she would ever get really upset was if you stayed out later than usual and you didn’t tell her

If your phone died, she would understand

But if you just didn’t think to let her know, she would get angry mostly just out of worry

Q - Quizzes

(How much do they remember about you?)

She’d be able to remember most things

Well, she’d be able to remember the important things like your family and your favourite places/things

But when it came to remembering things you’ve asked her to do or you’ve told her, she would be quite hopeless

I think some little things would just slip her mind sometimes

But it was never a big deal, so you both would just laugh about it

R - Remember

(What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

Her favourite memory would be when you went to a cute little coffee shop together

I know it sounds simple, but she remembers every single detail of the date

It was one of her most fun days with you, and you also went to a park together and had a little picnic

Just little simple memories like that would always stick with her

Because I feel like she would value the small things in life that make her happy

S - Security

(How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

She’s actually very protective

Just in terms of your safety though

Like if you were even in the smallest bit of danger, her mother instincts would explode

That’s why she gets annoyed when you don’t tell her when you would be home longer than usual

When in public, she would never let go of your hand

She’s more of the silent protector than the shout in someone’s face protector

Like if she thought someone was going to hurt you, she wouldn’t drag you away without saying anything

But if they kept testing you she would probably kick them in the stomach

I think she would like it if you got protective of her

She would appreciate if you did the same to her, because you should always protect each other equally in a relationship

T - Try

(How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

She would put so much effort into everything

Every anniversary would honestly feel like a mini Christmas

Would buy and make you way too many gifts

You’d be so spoiled by her

On dates, she always tries to find really exquisite things for you to do together

Like you’d never be able to guess where she suggested to go next

It could literally range from a huge aquarium to a really fancy candle lit dinner together

She was full of surprises when it came to pleasing you

U - Ugly

(What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Sometimes she can act a bit too much like a mother to you

Like you feel like sometimes she forgets that you are an adult and you wish to do things yourself

It would make you feel bad more than anything, because she would try to do everything for you

Sometimes she would also tire herself out

She seems like she would be a workaholic, so you would have to tell her to stop working and come to bed

Pushes herself a bit too hard, which a lot of the time ended with her having a cry in your arms from stress

V - Vanity

(How concerned are they with their looks?)

She wouldn’t be too concerned

Like she would at least want to look decent before leaving the house

But in general she wouldn’t really care

If you were to go out on a date though, she would put so much effort into making herself look gorgeous for you

So mainly only on special occasions would she be really concerned with her looks

But just like everyone else, she can sometimes get insecure about her body

But you would notice, because she would wear baggier clothes than usual and keep checking how she looked in reflections around the house

After some reassurance and a lot of kisses from you, she would feel much better about herself

W - Whole

(Would they feel incomplete without you?)

She’s actually a very independent person

But I feel like she really craves that physical and emotional affection from another person every now and then

But say if you were to go away for a while, she wouldn’t react badly

She would get on as normal, but still call and text you everyday

But if the time you were away was a long time, she would begin to become upset and miss your touch a lot more

X - Xtra

(A random headcanon for them.)

She would take you rock climbing all the time

Even when she was just practicing in a rock climbing gym, she would love to watch you attempt the hard courses

She’d find it so cute watching you try to do her absolute passion

But she would also appreciate the fact that you were involved in it as well

Y - Yuck

(What would be some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

In a partner, I don’t think she would ever be able to be with someone who was bluntly honest

Like someone who didn’t regard people’s feelings before saying things

She would view people like that as super rude and judgy

She’s very considerate of others, so dating someone like that would probably embarrass her and make her feel bad

In general, I get a weird vibe that she just hates hot weather

I mean not a lot of people do, but she would rather stay inside on a bright, hot day rather than go to the beach

She’d find the sweat and the sunburns unbearable

Z - Zzz

(What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Usagi wakes up multiple times during the night

Like she can’t stay asleep for longer than 4 hours at a time

She usually gets out of bed around 3 times each night to go to the bathroom or get a drink of water

She would try her best to not wake you up, but sometimes you would and follow her out to the kitchen to check on her

She would fall back asleep instantly though

As soon as she was tucked back into your arms, she was knocked out

#alice in borderland #alice in borderland imagines #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland headcanons #alice in borderland scenarios #aib imagine #aib imagines #aib headcanons #aib scenarios #yuzuha usagi #usagi imagine #usagi imagines #usagi headcanons #usagi scenarios #usagi x reader #yuzuha usagi x reader #yuzuha usagi headcanons

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mopeytropey · 4 years

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a beer buds series: chapter 10

author’s note: When I originally told my wife of the idea for this series, she immediately suggested an entire rewrite of 'a pleasant undoing' but told from Lexa's perspective. So I'm counting chapters 9 and 10 as honoring her wishes. The continuation of this series will reprise our almost strictly Lincoln + Lexa formula, but I'm not naive enough to think that at least 99% of you weren't going into this also hoping for some premium Clarke + Lexa content. (Forgive me for the deviation ... and the smut)

Timeline: essentially, we're just picking up where chapter 9 left off ...

Beer: Lil’ Heaven: Two Roads Brewing (Stratford, CT) SESSION IPA

Made with three exotic hops - Azacca, Mosaic and Equinox. Taste is of tropical fruits, specifically passion fruit, grapefruit and apricots. Finishes with just enough toasted malt character to balance.

ABV 4.8%

Posted on AO3 here, or below the cut:

:::

“Hey, don’t I know you?”

“I saw you two days ago.” Lexa affectionately rolls her eyes, nevertheless smiling while accepting an exaggerated hug from Lincoln as if they are reuniting after a long separation.

“Work doesn’t count. You’ve been completely off the radar for a week, socially speaking.”

They’ve met for an impromptu breakfast at a local diner not far from Lexa’s apartment. She’s back in her neighborhood for practicality reasons, having left the idyllic bubble of Clarke’s bedroom in order to do some loads of laundry. But, it’s also a nice excuse to see her friend.

Lincoln has already procured them steaming cups of coffee and a pair of red vinyl stools at the breakfast counter that faces the busy griddle top. He is grinning at her as they sit, awaiting her response.

“I’ve just been … busy,” she says, not even able to curb the bashful smile that follows as she removes her coat and hat.

Lexa pretends not to blush, knowing full well her time spent with Clarke has superseded any other social obligations as they have begun a long overdue exploration of new and exciting facets of their relationship.

Namely sex. A good portion of her week has, in fact, been absorbed by unspeakably good sex.

“Uh-huh,” Lincoln laughs warmly. “I wasn’t even sure you two had remembered how to physically separate at this point. Thought maybe Clarke would be joining us as well based solely on the fact that you two haven’t surfaced for anything other than work responsibilities in a full week.”

Lexa sips her coffee through a growing grin to prolong any acknowledgement of Lincoln’s playful accusation.

“Morning, hon’.” A familiar waitress says in passing, leaving two menus beside Lincoln’s coffee cup. “Let me know when you’re ready to order.”

“Thanks, Helen,” Lexa smiles. It’s not often that she indulges in big breakfast meals, preferring her protein smoothies or avocado toast, but Lexa has nevertheless fallen into a routine of frequenting the diner as a way of establishing new roots.

In her old Brooklyn borough it had been the Chilo’s taco bar where she and Anya would meet every Friday to decompress from the work week over carnitas tacos and cheap beer. In her new portside life in Massachusetts, it’s Angie’s Diner. The coffee is palatable, at best, but the atmosphere is welcoming and Lexa has always enjoyed seeing familiar faces when forced to dine alone. Helen’s gruff, New England endearments in a seasoned, smoker’s voice, have consistently been a comforting presence.

When the woman shuffles off to tend to the other, early morning diners, Lexa turns to see Lincoln still watching her expectantly. “Clarke had some tasks at Dockside to attend to, and I really need clean clothes.”

“And, you’re functioning okay in her absence? Breathing okay and everything?”

Lexa laughs at his continued teasing, but easily concedes to an honest answer. So much uninterrupted time spent in Clarke’s company, sharing the myriad truths about their feelings, has apparently begun to bleed into her other relationships as well.

Lexa has almost always been able to leave herself unguarded in Lincoln’s presence anyway.

“I’m probably more dysfunctional when she’s around, actually.”

Lincoln stifles a laugh around a sip of his coffee. “That sounds like a fair assessment. Everything’s going as well as expected then?”

“Yeah, it’s—” Lexa tries, and instantly fails, not to picture Clarke lathered and laughing in the shower while Lexa fights to stand beneath the warm, steaming spray; Clarke pressing her against the kitchen countertops with hands roaming while the coffee steeps; Clarke cuddling into her on the sofa with the lights dim and the TV volume low “—it’s been really good.”

“Oh no.”

“What?” Lexa smiles unsurely, eyes widening at Lincoln’s grave expression.

“What’s with the hesitation?”

“What hesitation? I did not hesitate.”

“I know that hesitation.” Lincoln narrows his gaze at her, dark eyes assessing for signs of Lexa’s concession. “What are you in your head about now?”

She really needs to stop associating with people who can read her like a book.

“Okay, fine,” Lexa exhales. She flips open the worn menu, its once glossy, laminate pages now dulled from years of loyal patronage. “I’m just adjusting to the intensity of it all.”

“You’ve made a major life change. Totally normal to feel overwhelmed,” Lincoln shrugs.

“I know. You’re right. I haven’t even slept at my apartment in almost a week.”

“And, this is somehow a bad thing?” Lincoln laughs.

“No, I have absolutely zero complaints,” Lexa clarifies. “But, we’re spending literally all of our free time together—and portions of our work days, too.”

Lincoln chuckles after another sip of coffee. “Also totally normal. In the beginning, Octavia used to impose all of these ridiculous sleepover schedules—like, spending three nights a week together is the maximum, or whatever—only to completely abandon her own, dumb rule and would end up sleeping at mine for weeks at a time.” Lincoln thinks better of it a second later and warns, “Don’t ever tell her I told you that.”

The legitimate fear she can see in his eyes makes her laugh, and suddenly she doesn’t feel quite so overwhelmed. “I’ve always considered it wise not to let on that I know just how obsessed Octavia is with you.”

“Smart woman,” Lincoln winks. “So, other than acclimating to new sleeping arrangements, what is it that’s stressing you out? You think you’re spending too much time together?”

“That’s the thing—I like being able to be with Clarke as much as possible. This past week, spending time with her, I’ve felt calmer and happier and more settled than I have in ages.”

Lincoln smiles so warmly, Lexa can feel it in her chest. “Don’t you think Clarke feels exactly the same way?”

“I’m pretty confident that Clarke enjoys having me around, yes. It’s not like she’s trying to kick me out of her house or anything yet.”

“But?”

“But, I keep wondering what the long-term implications are. Because the way that everything is changing between us: it feels … significant.”

“Yeah. That’s because you’re in l—”

Lexa looks away with a groan that drowns out the rest of Lincoln’s statement, rubbing a hand against her forehead. “Oh my god, please stop saying that.”

“Okay, okay,” Lincoln laughs. And then, after a moment while clearing his throat, he not-so-subtly reiterates: “But, you are.”

Lexa studiously ignores any truth in Lincoln’s playful accusation and further expounds, “I guess if anything is stressing me out, it’s not knowing if Clarke is experiencing something similar to what I am right now.”

“Knowing Clarke like I do, and having had the pleasure of a front row seat to all of this from day one, I can confidently assure you that she is right there with you. That being said, have you ever considered—I don’t know—asking her yourself instead of sitting here having a hypothetical conversation about it with me?”

“I do plan to speak with her about this,” Lexa assures an openly skeptical Lincoln. “I do.”

“I mean, you’re in the first week of a new relationship, Lex. I get it. That is usually not time that’s predominantly spent talking.”

Lexa is saved from her sudden flush of embarrassment by the return of their waitress, Helen, who kindly disregards the red tint on Lexa’s cheeks as she orders her scrambled eggs and rye toast.

“The point is,” Lincoln continues once their orders have been placed, “you guys have this really solid and established friendship going into this thing. In my experience, that can sort of push you ahead at a faster clip than you’re probably accustomed to in relationships.” He drains his coffee, placing it back onto the counter with a dull clink. “So, what would make you feel better about the rate at which you and Clarke are headed?”

Lincoln has a uniquely comforting way of simplifying Lexa’s life. He’s so genuine and forthcoming, and she could hug him again for all his supportive logic. Instead, she takes a deep breath to clear her head and pledges to hug him later.

“I want to be up front with her about where I see this going, to determine whether or not she and I are on the same page. I want her to know that I’m—”

“—in love with her?” Lincoln grins.

Lexa punches him, with unintentional force, and regrets it only when Helen—a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper curls and kind eyes—glances at them in mild concern as she refills their coffee. “I would ask if he’s bothering you, hon’, but I have a feeling you’re more than capable of handling yourself.”

“Don’t worry, I deserved that,” Lincoln assures their waitress, laughing at Lexa’s menacing scowl while rubbing his arm.

“I was going to say, I want Clarke to know that I’m not interested in dating anyone else.”

“Oh, right, right,” Lincoln nods, still smiling. “See, I just keep forgetting you two haven’t already been dating exclusively for, like, six months.”

“Why do I hang out with you again?”

For all her feigned exasperation, she is instantly wrapped up in an embrace, not unlike an older brother might lovingly harass his younger sibling. “Because you love me.” He pulls her in closely for a monstrous hug—right there at the diner counter—despite Lexa’s sharp elbow to his abdomen as she playfully fights against the forced affection.

:::

Clarke emerges from her silver Saab just as Lexa ambles across the snow-dusted gravel of the marina, icy rocks crunching beneath her boots. Cars are parked at odd, misfitted angles wherever they can find space between the boats set up on large blocks in their bright white winter wrappings. Clarke is wearing her plaid scarf and bulky winter parka, and Lexa’s chest tightens with equal amounts of excitement and trepidation at seeing her again after a short span apart.

“You should have let me pick you up,” Clarke says by way of a greeting.

“It’s not a bad walk from my apartment.”

Their breaths dissipate in the air between them after briefly appearing in frozen clouds. Lexa can feel her teeth about to chatter because the air on the water is properly freezing, but she attributes the chill along her spine to the nervous energy of being near Clarke.

Clarke’s gaze narrows in judgement. “Stubborn.”

“Those in glass houses,” Lexa counters, arching her brow in a way that brings that pleasant tint of blush to Clarke’s cheeks.

It could very well be the wind; except Lexa knows that it isn’t.

“Okay can we further reprimand each other once we’re inside where it’s warm?”

Clarke’s gloved hand wraps around her coat sleeve and tugs until they are both headed towards the blue front door of the coffee shop. A welcomed gush of warm air envelopes them instantly, and Lexa’s skin begins to tingle where the harsh winds had chilled her face. There isn’t much of a line, nor is the shop crowded with other people. The moderately-sized open room is sparse with patrons, enjoying their steaming drinks under natural lighting and softly playing music.

It’s been six days—not that Lexa has been meticulously keeping track, but it’s been six days—of near-constant kissing and unrestrained touch; of perpetual orgasms and an intentionally precise exploration of Clarke’s body; of general sensory overload when it comes to redefining her relationship with her best friend. Hardly a week has transpired since they began testing the waters of this mutual attraction, which has nevertheless consumed Lexa entirely.

Maybe it’s only been six days, an insignificant length of time under normal circumstances, but it feels much more weighted than that.

Between the kissing and the touching and the orgasms, nevermind the sudden influx of unveiled honesty, she can hardly keep her head above water. Her mind hasn’t stopped spinning since that first kiss on Clarke’s doorstep, and she’s only slightly concerned with contracting vertigo if they don’t stop and address what is happening between them sooner rather than later. Lexa needs to sit in a familiar, public space in the light of day with her best friend to discuss the implications on their relationship as it progresses at full tilt.

Lincoln’s advice rings in her ears as they enter the shop: just talk to Clarke.

“Hey, strangers!” A barista greets them happily as she and Clarke approach the cash register. Her name slips from Lexa’s memory, but Clarke returns her greeting for them both.

“Hey, Morgan.”

“Oh my god, I thought you two got lost at sea or something. We haven’t seen you in ages.” Morgan is young, perhaps just out of college, with bright pink hair and a septum piercing.

Clarke’s head shifts so that she can give Lexa a strange look, which Lexa promptly returns before offering a brief smile. “Oh, um, yeah. Just busy during the holidays,” Clarke answers.

Lexa gives her order and Clarke pays, brushing off Lexa’s insistence on paying her share. In seven months, if she’s learned anything, it is not to question Clarke’s generosity. They move to a deserted sofa beside an old wood stove fireplace to wait for their drinks and begin removing their coats and hats. Lexa’s toes begin to tingle and thaw within her leather boots as the heat from the fire permeates.

The harborside shop is the same as always: natural light streaming through the windows facing the water; a smattering of locally produced art hanging on brightly colored walls; and, a handful of other patrons sitting in mismatched furniture with computers or paperbacks. Everything is the same, except for her and Clarke.

They sit closely, quickly finding small, innocuous points of contact. Clarke tucks into one end of the sofa so that her knees rest gently against Lexa’s legs. Their hands seek touch as the barista delivers their drinks, separating only briefly to accept the steaming mugs and offer their gratitude. Once Morgan leaves them to attend other customers, Lexa falls into the comfort of their secluded, sun-drenched pocket of the shop.

“It’s so cold outside. I think my feet are still thawing.”

“It feels nice in here,” Lexa responds, smiling because Clarke inches closer to her anyway and she was only outside for under two minutes as it is.

Lexa senses a buzzing from her coat where it sits beside her and reaches into one of its deep pockets to check her phone. A text from Lincoln confirms their plans to meet up later for drinks. She types a quick, one-handed response before replacing her phone and returning her full attention to Clarke.

“Lincoln,” she explains, although Clarke doesn’t look poised to ask.

“Does he miss you already?”

Lexa laughs, shaking her head. “No, he’s not nearly as codependent as you.”

Clarke attempts to withdraw her fingers from where they are slotted between Lexa’s, but Lexa tightens her grasp with a widening grin at Clarke’s dropped jaw and feigned affront.

“Are you still hanging out later?”

“Yeah, he was just confirming the time.” Lexa’s thumb smooths across the back of Clarke’s hand in a slow, repetitive arch. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”

Clarke shakes her head firmly. “No, this is your sacred time together—I can’t encroach on that.”

“It’s beers and appetizers, Clarke. I wouldn’t call it sacred.”

Clarke’s eyes widen dramatically. “I’m gonna tell him you said that.”

The empty threat makes Lexa smile again. They’ve always had a particular talent for banter, and the added layer of their recent sexual experiences makes it all the more delightful to trade taunts and harmless barbs.

“How was your laundry adventure?” Clarke asks while reaching for her coffee, and Lexa smirks.

“Thrilling.”

Despite her instincts to stay within reach of Clarke at all times as much as physically possible, there is also the issue of personal hygiene. In this case, it was Lexa’s growing pile of clothes that needed attending.

“And breakfast with Lincoln?”

She can’t tell Clarke how she is actually reconsidering a lifelong friendship with Lincoln because he had spent a majority of the morning brutally teasing her. To reveal that would require Lexa to also elaborate on his specific proclamations about her feelings for Clarke.

And so, Lexa tells her, “It was good.”

“You can always do laundry at mine, you know.”

“Is this just another ploy to keep me tethered to your house for longer intervals?”

An exasperated look flashes across Clarke’s face while she swallows down a mouthful of steaming coffee. “Yes. Have you not been paying attention at all over the past week?”

Lexa swallows through a grin of her own. There’s really only one, notable thing they’ve been engaged in over the past week, and to think of it now has Lexa’s face warming as she becomes acutely aware of Clarke’s proximity in a public space.

“I’ve been a little preoccupied lately.”

Light laughter escapes her as Lexa’s right hand fiddles the ribbing of Clarke’s sweater between her fingers. She is dressed in something off-white and oversized that cuts at a low vee below her neck so that Lexa’s eyes begin to wander to its shadowed opening. It’s a sweater she remembers from the time before—when all of Lexa’s cultivated interest in Clarke (including her wardrobe) was something unspoken and dutifully ignored.

Lexa remembers that Clarke had been dressed for a dinner at her mother’s house, and Lexa had been granted a chance encounter for quick minutes in which they danced around a thrumming attraction. She can feel it sparking in the air between them now, their pocket of relative privacy threatening to implode from the calculated looks Clarke is giving her.

“Busy week?” she further teases, eyeing Lexa’s blush over the rim of her coffee mug as she takes another sip.

Lexa purses her lips and narrows her gaze at Clarke’s self-satisfaction. “Exactly how much joy does it bring you to torture me?”

“So much,” Clarke laughs. She slips her fingers between Lexa’s so that they are loosely held together. “But only because you’re so adorable when you’re exasperated.”

“Flattery is supposed to absolve you?”

“Obviously.” Clarke rolls her eyes, bringing Lexa’s fingers to her mouth and brushing them quickly with a kiss.

With affections such as this, Lexa would forgive her of almost anything.

“So,” Clarke says through a sigh while bringing their joined hands to rest again on her knee. “What did you want to talk about?”

Now that Clarke has given her the floor, Lexa practically swallows her tongue in nervous vacillation. She had strategized a few, well-devised talking points during the process of cleaning her clothes, not to mention procuring some sound advice from Lincoln over breakfast, but sitting here in front of Clarke has made Lexa forget how to string together words and phrases to construct complete thoughts.

In a desperate attempt to find her resolve, she reaches for the cup of english black tea she’d ordered. Lexa takes her first sip, wishing she’d asked for a pinch more sugar but nevertheless hoping it will soothe her racing thoughts.

“I just wanted to … check in.”

Pathetically underwhelming start. Lincoln would be so disappointed. She takes another sip that is more like a gulp.

Clarke nods slowly. “Okay.”

“About us.”

“Okay,” Clarke repeats, her smile looking apprehensive at best.

“Our friendship has evolved significantly over the past week, and rapidly, at that. I just thought we should—” Lexa wavers and Clarke comes to her rescue.

“Check in?”

“Yeah,” Lexa nods.

“Okay. Are you—are you feeling okay about everything?”

Lexa begins to tangle her fingers around Clarke’s more fervently. “Things with you are almost too good.”

Clarke’s smile changes instantly, full and bright and genuinely pleased. “I feel the same. I’m actually feeling incredibly, fucking lucky, to put a finer point on it.”

“Good,” Lexa smiles, exhaling a modicum of relief. “I do too.”

“Oh my god, you had me scared.” Clarke leans back into the couch, dislodging their hands to run her fingers through her hair. “I thought you were going to say you want to date other people or something.”

“What? No.” Lexa’s breath has been lost to a vacuum of panic so that her ask is hardly audible. “Do you?”

“No! No. I’ve dated, Lexa. I’ve dated plenty,” Clarke laughs lightly, reaching for a surer hold on Lexa’s fingers. “But, you—I mean, you’re single for the first time in over three years. You must have thought about it.”

Not single, Lexa says to herself before thinking better of it and rephrasing aloud:

“Clarke, I could date a hundred women and none of them would be you.”

“Yes, I am fairly certain I’ve yet to be cloned.”

“Are you going to stop being a smartass so I can say this?” Lexa smiles in mock irritation.

“Sorry, sorry.” Clarke pinches her lips together, attentive. “Continue.”

“What I mean is, no one else would compare. I’ve never met anyone like you—this connection I feel with you, I’ve never experienced anything like it.” Lexa takes a breath, licking her lips before forging onward. “I can’t say where this is going, but I can say, unquestionably, that I have no interest in dating anyone else for the foreseeable future.”

The words leave her in a rush of honesty. It feels like she’s said too much too soon, but Clarke leans forward with a smile and Lexa interprets the gentle press of her lips as having said exactly the right thing.

“Do you think we can take these drinks to-go and finish this conversation elsewhere?” Clarke’s voice is pitched low and seductive, and Lexa senses a chill tingling at the back of her neck.

She resolves to stop doubting her honesty, if also to reconsider hanging out with Clarke in public spaces for a while until they can get their rampant sexual urges under control long enough to enjoy a cup of tea.

“Did you have a specific location in mind?” she grins in response as if the gleam in Clarke’s eyes isn’t a clear enough indication.

:::

Part 2

:::

The sex is consistently noteworthy, and Lexa had never really doubted that she and Clarke would be compatible in that way, but so is the intimacy alongside it. Lexa has never before distinguished between the two so markedly. But, with Clarke, the intimacy is so distinct. When she is coming around Clarke’s fingers, letting her watch the strains of pleasure in her face and shoulders, Lexa registers the vulnerability of being caught in Clarke’s gaze as an orgasm ricochets through her.

Ordinarily, a week into any new relationship and Lexa would still be clinging to well-practiced safeguards. She would be withholding some parts of herself for safekeeping and ultimate preservation should things go sideways.

But, not with Clarke.

She likes that Clarke watches her so carefully. The way that she feels when held by Clarke’s gaze is a kind of certain safety that Lexa hasn’t known before. She kisses Clarke fully, holding nothing back as the pulsating aftershocks of her orgasm begin to ebb. When Clarke slowly removes her fingers, Lexa bites Clarke’s lip, swallowing the soft moan that follows.

“Does this mean you want to be exclusive?” Lexa asks, still breathless, when their lips have parted.

She feels Clarke’s laughter against her face before she’s being kissed again. “Yes, you idiot.”

“Good. Because I want to take you out.”

“Tonight?”

“Not tonight. It’s going to require some planning. I’d like it to be a proper date.”

Clarke’s elation is instantly visible. “Okay. I’m going to be honest, I’m highly intrigued to find out what a proper Lexa date looks like.”

Lexa kisses her again and considers, not for the first time, if she’ll be able to stop now that she’s started. Clarke’s warm tongue and soft lips are now vital to Lexa’s existence. She craves the sensation of their mouths sliding together at random intervals throughout her days.

“Kissing you has not been a disappointment,” she says, bringing more of Clarke’s bright laughter as they shift their limbs to reposition against the mattress.

Clarke’s leg wraps around her waist as Lexa brushes stray hair from Clarke’s face where they now lay facing side-by-side. “Oh, my god, I’ll second that. I knew you would be a good kisser.”

“Did you?” Lexa smiles at the confession. She likes that Clarke had thought of her in similar ways. She had not been the only one lost in questionably scandalous daydreams over the course of their friendship.

“Yes. I may have thought about it, once or twice.”

“I had a pretty good feeling about your talents as well.”

It’s such a simple, shared admission that nevertheless makes Lexa’s heart trip in its rhythm. “And now, I think about it constantly.”

For that, she is rewarded with another press of Clarke’s lips. “Me too. I’m pretty sure I’m regressing into a terrible excuse for a restaurant manager as a result of constant distraction.”

“And the bar for your professionalism was already set so low as it is.”

“Hey!” For that she gets a finger plunged sharply between her ribs, and Lexa squirms away from Clarke’s violent tickling.

“I’m kidding. You are an elite and respected paragon of your field.”

“You’re damn right I am,” Clarke affirms with pride.

“Honestly, I was so lost in thought the other day, I dropped a six pack on my foot.”

“Lexa!” Clarke laughs, kissing Lexa again anyway. “Oh no.”

“No permanent damage,” Lexa smiles. “Can I tell you what else I really like?”

Clarke could not look more delighted. “Yes, please.”

“I really like your sweater.”

“Wait—which sweater?”

Lexa props up onto an elbow, separating their warm skin as she casts her eyes around the room before locating the sweater in question. It sits near the foot of the bed where it had been discarded moments before. “That one,” she says. “It looks really good on you.”

Clarke seems both surprised and amused by the compliment. “Come here.”

Lexa allows herself to be pulled closer when Clarke wraps both hands around the back of her neck and their limbs slot back into place. They kiss lazily as if time doesn’t exist while Lexa’s hands begin to drift along the pathways she has started to chart across Clarke’s skin.

“I like seeing you in such a good mood,” Clarke eventually tells her.

“The effect of midafternoon orgasms cannot be underrated.” The frank sentiment makes Clarke laugh again as she rests their foreheads together and begins smoothing over Lexa’s skin with the tips of her fingers. “Also, I like being able to tell you things—things I wouldn’t have been able to say before.”

“I like when you tell me things.” Clarke tucks a strand of loose curls around Lexa’s ear. “Anything else in that busy head of yours you feel like sharing?”

Three words ring prominently in Lexa’s ears, and she fully blames Lincoln’s stupid taunting for the sentiment being at the forefront of her mind. It has nothing to do with the soft, swirling blue of Clarke’s eyes, or the subtle tilt of her mouth, or the fact that Lexa has memorized the sound of Clarke’s laugh. She swallows roughly and presses her lips to Clarke’s, sealing the unspoken words between them for good measure.

She instead tells Clarke a different truth, “I’m feeling much better since we talked.”

“I’m glad,” Clarke smiles. “I feel better, too.” She runs a hand down Lexa’s arm, finding her fingers.

“I was sort of anxious to say anything,” Lexa admits, feeling brave while cocooned in Clarke’s bed despite her earlier insecurities. She had worried, yet again, about saying too much. There was always the risk of Clarke pulling away if Lexa revealed too much. “I spent at least two days debating with myself.”

Clarke’s exaggerated surprise results in Lexa’s quiet giggles. “No, you did? You tortured yourself for days with unnecessary internal debates? That is highly out-of-character, Lexa.”

“You really are a lot more like Lincoln than I ever realized.”

Clarke’s laughter somehow brings them closer together, and Lexa shifts her legs where they are staggered between Clarke’s. “I’ll take that as a compliment. And, I’m glad you finally talked to me about this. I mean, I wasn’t totally expecting you to propose in the way that you did, but—”

“Clarke.” Lexa buries her face into the pillow and clenches her eyes to stave off her creeping mortification. So much for embracing her honesty.

Of course, Clarke is endlessly humored by watching Lexa suffer and only continues her assault on Lexa’s heartfelt admission. “I mean, correct me if I’m misquoting, but you said: ‘for the foreseeable future,’ which basically translates into asking me to date you, but like, forever.”

“Oh my god,” Lexa mumbles, her face still pressed into the soft cotton of Clarke’s pillowcase.

Clarke is not deterred by Lexa’s mounting humiliation, pressing kisses full of laughter into her neck and shoulder until Lexa finally turns to face her. Using the leverage of her leg wrapped around Lexa’s hips, Clarke has since wrestled her onto her back.

“See?” she says, running an index finger down the slope of Lexa’s nose and effectively smoothing the furrow of embarrassment between her eyebrows. “So adorable.”

It’s hard to keep hold of her ire when Clarke is naked above her and straddling her hips. Perhaps Clarke knows this as well because even as she shifts imperceptibly, Lexa feels it straight through her core. Her hands come to rest on the tops of Clarke’s thighs, and though she senses a residual scowl tugging at her lips, most of her regret for being too honest has faded.

“I’m sorry for making fun,” Clarke says while her thumbs rub circular patterns on Lexa’s ribs.

Lexa has never seen anyone look less apologetic in her life. “I would be more inclined to believe you if you weren’t actively trying not to laugh.”

“No, no, I’m serious,” Clarke reiterates, although she is fully laughing now. She clears her throat, aiming valiantly for composure. “What you said was so sweet, and, I mean, in case you couldn’t tell, I sort of plan on dating you for a really long time, too.”

Lexa fights her own smile rather poorly. “Well, that’s very convenient.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Clarke nods.

It’s the perfect segue into more unrestrained fondling, more languid kisses, and Clarke seems to be on the same wavelength as she leans her weight onto her hands and begins to roll her hips. It’s easier falling into this rhythm when for six days they have perpetually cycled the same routine: intimate talks bookended by multiple orgasms that are interspersed with brief intervals reserved for sleep and nourishment.

Lexa gasps into their first kiss from their well-timed movements—the feeling of them sliding together in that way has a heated sensation building quick and low. Just the pressure of Clarke on top of her and the way her slow, purposed movements are hitting Lexa in the all the right spots, has her close to a second orgasm in minutes.

She can hear Clarke’s breathing accelerate as well, the forced puffs of air through her nose that Lexa feels against her cheeks as their kisses grow more urgent. Clarke’s hand moves first, skating down Lexa’s abdomen as she lifts her hips to slide her fingers towards Lexa’s clit. It’s been no more than twenty minutes since her last orgasm, but Lexa’s body instantly responds to the circulating pressure of Clarke’s fingers moving against her.

They are still figuring things out, learning how the other responds to physical arousal, but this—Clarke on top of her, easily working her towards climax with deft fingers and filthy, open-mouth kisses—will do the trick every, single time. Lexa could probably come with much less stimulation at this point, when brushing touches while fully clothed are sometimes too much for her to function. Never mind the visual currently hovering over her—Clarke’s bouncing chest, grinding hips, and blown pupils. An image of her fingers sunk into Clarke in this position is enough to send Lexa over the edge. Her back arches off the mattress as the orgasm rolls up her spine, and Lexa catches her breath only after Clarke starts kissing her again.

A familiar dilemma has Lexa torn between using her hands or her mouth as the tingling sensations of her own orgasm have barely begun to fade. In the end, her urgency to feel Clarke’s arousal, and see it to completion, has Lexa moving a hand between their bodies to slide eager fingers into Clarke’s folds. There will always be time later to bury her face between Clarke’s legs.

Her breath always stutters at that first touch—it’s slick and warm and Clarke groans appreciatively when Lexa extends two fingers just as Clarke sinks onto Lexa’s hand. That she is open and intimate with Clarke in a way she never thought possible has not fully registered as her new reality, and for a brief second, Lexa’s mind goes blank.

In another breath, Lexa shifts, guiding Clarke to change her position just enough that she can take one of Clarke’s nipples into her mouth. The quick suction and slow laps of her tongue produce a groan from Clarke that Lexa will be thinking about days later.

“Fuck, Lexa,” Clarke pants, her hips now thrusting quicker against Lexa’s hand, pressing harder against her fingers as they slide in an out.

Clarke’s arms shift, palms flat against the mattress on either side of Lexa’s head where she is still holding her weight.

“Are your arms getting tired? Do you want to switch positions?” Lexa absently moves her hand that had been massaging one of Clarke’s breasts to lightly hold her bicep.

“No.” Clarke smiles and kisses her softly, in direct contrast to the way she is currently riding Lexa’s fingers. “You’re very sweet, but I’m good.”

“Okay, good. Because I’m really appreciating this view,” Lexa grins, moving her hand again to swipe a thumb across Clarke’s nipple.

“Do you think you can—”

She doesn’t let Clarke finish, relying instead on her still-developing intuitions, and takes the other nipple into her mouth.

“Yes, fuck.”

Lexa celebrates her victory of predicting Clarke’s needs by altering the position of her hand to reach Clarke’s clit with her thumb, the result of which has Clarke nearly collapsing onto her as her elbows buckle and her hips jerk forward. Lexa finds a well-practiced rhythm after that and works Clarke all the way to climax until the movement of her hips becomes erratic and she is no longer able to string together coherent profanity.

The comedown is soft and fun, quiet giggles and breathless kisses. Clarke collapses onto the mattress beside her, arms and legs finally relieved of their tension, and Lexa curls onto her side so that she can rest a hand onto Clarke’s stomach where she lies flat on her back.

Lexa is so content, she feels like her body might levitate in a boneless mass above the bed. Clarke’s breathing is still coming to rest, and Lexa watches her hand rise and fall with each inhale and exhale.

Into the greying stillness of the bedroom, Clarke asks, “Hey, what time are you supposed to meet Lincoln?”

The serenity Lexa had felt shatters in an instant. “Oh shit!” She flails about for a moment in search of her phone, having completely forgotten about her plans. “What time is it?”

She locates her phone before Clarke can answer. It’s already half past three, and Lexa’s stomach plummets. The text from Lincoln says: where you at?

“Are you late?” Clarke has come to sit behind her where Lexa’s legs hang off the mattress near the bedside table where she’d found her phone. Lexa feels soft kisses against her shoulderblade. “What did he say?”

Below Lincoln’s text is a picture of two full pints of beer sitting on a bar counter. She holds her phone at an angle so that Clarke can see Lincoln’s texts.

Lexa runs a hand through her hair as her heart hammers from the sudden jolt of adrenaline. “Shit.”

More than the shame of accidentally standing up one of her closest friends, Lexa dreads the fallout of this enormous misstep because Lincoln is never going to let her live this down. Worse yet, there is a good chance that he’ll share the story with Anya, which will mean, essentially, Lexa can never again return home.

“Why don’t you get dressed and go? I can drop you off,” Clarke offers sweetly, still pressing reassuring kisses along her back.

“I’m going to ask him if we can reschedule,” Lexa decides.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Lexa answers, turning her head to smile at Clarke over her shoulder. “I don’t

really feel like putting on pants at the moment.”

Clarke kisses her shoulder cap and grins in return. “You’ll get no argument from me there.”

“Let me give him a call really quickly.” Lexa reaches for a shirt on the floor—something of Clarke’s she’d worn to bed the night before—and stands to slip it over her head. Something about calling a close friend while completely naked and still coming down from an orgasm makes her slightly uncomfortable.

“Take your time,” Clarke tells her, also rising from the unkept sheets and blankets to pull her hair back into its messy bun. “I’m going to go downstairs and reheat our drinks from earlier.” She tugs at the hem of Lexa’s tee shirt and places a kiss at the corner of her mouth on her way to the bathroom. “Do you want a snack, too?”

“Okay.”

Lexa grins, following after Clarke’s lips as she starts to move away. A soft hold on her wrist is enough encouragement for Clarke to lean up into another kiss, reminding Lexa just how shaky her legs still feel from their exertions in bed. Perhaps sustenance to replenish her blood sugar is necessary instead of relying solely on a steady drip of oxytocins.

Lexa appreciates the view of Clarke’s retreating backside even in the fading light of the bedroom as the sun has started to move towards the horizon. She runs a hand through her wild curls and exhales, preparing to make her phone call while perched on the edge of the mattress.

Lincoln answers on the first ring. “Hey, buddy. Did you get lost?”

“Something like that,” Lexa says. “Clarke and I went for coffee, and then I sort of … lost track of time.”

“Say no more,” Lincoln laughs. “It’s your turn to ditch me for a girl now, right? I hope the sex was worth it.”

The fact that she is wearing nothing more than a thin tee shirt has Lexa covering her face with her hand. “Lincoln, I didn’t—”

His laughter persists, and Lexa wonders how loud it must be within the confines of the bar. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. It’s totally fine. Honestly, I’d be more upset if you weren’t standing me up for time with Clarke right now.”

“I’m really sorry, Linc. I can be down there in like fifteen minutes.”

“Don’t you dare.” For the first time since he’s answered the call, Lincoln’s voice takes on a serious tone. “I swear to god, if you show up here, I’m frogmarching your ass right back to Clarke’s house.”

“Okay, fine,” Lexa laughs. “Let’s hang out early next week though. Beers on me.”

“Don’t even worry about it. I’m serious. I actually ran into some people from the gym plus the rep from Two Roads is here doing a tasting—I’m good, I promise.”

“I’m going to make this up to you,” Lexa reiterates. Despite Lincoln’s assurances, her guilt does not fully dissipate.

Clarke chooses this moment to step out of the bathroom, wearing just as much clothing as when she’d gone in, and Lexa’s brain lags at the sight. Her expression seems to be asking if everything is okay, and Lexa smiles in response.

“Lex, would you stop? Tell Clarke I said hi, and I’ll see you at work on Monday. Oh, hey, ask her if she’s tried the new session IPA from Two Roads. It’s intensely enjoyable.”

“Okay. I will.” She smiles up at Clarke, who has stopped to stand in front of her after slipping into a tee shirt and sweatpants. Lexa’s hand settles on Clarke’s hip like a magnet snapping into place. “Clarke says hi, too.”

“Sorry, Lincoln!” Clarke says, projecting her voice towards the receiver while tucking strands of curls behind Lexa’s ear. “It’s all my fault.”

There is more laughter down the line before Lincoln reiterates that everything is fine and he could never actually be angry with either of them.

:::

“So, since when do you source your unhealthy caffeine intake from elsewhere?”

“Huh?” Clarke smiles.

They’ve taken up seats at Clarke’s kitchen island with their reheated drinks from the coffee shop and Clarke’s version of a snack: smoked turkey and cheddar sandwiches on toasted potato rolls with homemade aioli.

They’re both wearing slightly altered versions of the same outfit—soft tee shirts and loose sweatpants, Clarke’s cut off into shorts so that Lexa’s fingers are continuously tempted to trail across all of the exposed skin within reach.

She sips her tea and returns Clarke’s smile.

“The barista at the coffee shop seemed shocked to see you,” she clarifies. “Don’t you practically pay rent there by spending so much of your time buying their coffee?”

For a brief moment, Clarke can’t seem to find her voice. She practically chokes on her sandwich, taking longer than expected to swallow her first bite. Lexa raises an eyebrow expectantly as their drinks emit swirling strands of steam into the air between them.

“I—I could ask you the same,” Clarke volleys back, not unkindly, as she dabs the corner of her mouth with a napkin and reaches for her coffee. “Morgan seemed just as surprised to see you there.”

Lexa bites her lip and looks away. She had asked out of genuine curiosity and confusion, and now it seems yet another bout of confessions is forthcoming.

She clears her throat. “Do you have any beer, actually?”

Clarke laughs lightly before shifting her expression into something like mild offense.

“Um, hi. My entire existence is practically centered around craft beer—do you even know me?”

“Right,” Lexa laughs. “Stupid question. Would you like one?”

“Again: do you even know me?”

Lexa starts to slide off her stool with a bright smile that belies the low buzz of nerves she is withstanding as an unspoken conversation simmers between them. Clarke is dislodging their legs from where they had sat in a close tangle at the island. “Stay,” she directs her, brushing a kiss to her temple. “I’ll get them.”

Once Lexa has pulled open the fridge door, she turns to look at Clarke over her shoulder. “Do you have a preference? Lincoln was asking if you’d tried the new IPA from Two Roads.”

“Are you actively avoiding answering my question by distracting me with beer inquiries?”

Lexa pinches her lips together to ward off a sheepish admission, and Clarke rolls her eyes affectionately. “Look on the left hand side, bottom shelf.”

Lexa ducks down to retrieve two brightly colored cans of IPA before closing the fridge door and returning to the island. “Not to split hairs, but technically, you avoided my question first.”

“Okay, fine,” Clarke sighs dramatically. She takes one last dreg from her coffee before shoving it away in favor of the can of beer Lexa has just opened for her. “I was—” Clarke actually ducks her head so that Lexa can see her thick eyelashes fluttering “—I was afraid I would run into you during the, uh, when we—”

“Broke up?” Lexa supplies. She is still holding a small smile for Clarke when blue eyes finally snap up to meet hers.

It had felt like that. A relationship ending—a significant one at that. And, Lexa had been left broken in the aftermath.

“I was going to say when we stopped talking,” Clarke continues. “But, it was more than that. It did feel like a break up. And, we didn’t decide anything—I cut communications all on my own.”

“Clarke—”

“I’m really sorry, Lexa.”

Lexa is already shaking her head, part disbelief at what she’s hearing, part exasperation that Clarke has mistakenly absorbed all of the blame.

“Clarke, I know you have this bizarre obsession with always being right, but I can assure you—what happened in November was all on me.”

“I just vanished, Lexa. I didn’t even tell you why or allow you to explain anything.” Clarke’s eyes are downcast and her voice softens in unmistakable regret as she fiddles the silver tab on her beer. “I freaked out and hid away. And, it was really shitty.”

Lexa can’t help the way her mind creates distinctions between Clarke and Costia—the contrast of Costia’s distance from their relationship to Clarke’s sudden disappearance. With Costia, it had often felt like abandonment and disregard. The space between them had been a disappointment, a mild discomfort that Lexa sustained over time. Losing Clarke—and it had felt like that, as if she turned around one day and panicked to find Clarke had vanished—left her devastated and painfully bereft.

“Not seeing you was horrible. Not being able to talk to you was even worse. But, I’m glad you stepped back and took that space. It was shitty, but not because you did anything wrong.”

“I hated not seeing you, too,” Clarke admits, and they share another small smile across the kitchen island, tinged with a distant, remembered sadness.

“I couldn’t avoid Dockside, contractually, but I—I didn’t want to encroach upon your other spaces.”

“So, you stopped going to the coffee shop.”

Lexa confirms with a short nod and takes the first sip of her beer. She’s glad they’ve had this talk, but she’s also more than eager to segue out of November’s gloom that is better left in the past. She takes a cleansing breath and sets down her beer.

“In the end, I was glad you created that barrier between us, Clarke. I was miserable, and Lincoln will tell you that I was insufferable to be around, but it made me realize what a massive idiot I’d been.”

Her admission elicits an actual laugh, and Clarke shakes her head fondly. “So much for that Ivy League education.”

There’s a lot more that could be said, and it’s a much longer conversation that they will likely parse out at some point. But, today has been exceptionally good, and Lexa isn’t quite ready to lose the momentum of their good moods. Even for the sake of honesty.

“I’m a slow learner,” Lexa shrugs.

“Based on the activities that occurred in my bedroom this afternoon, I can attest to that being entirely untrue,” Clarke says, voice pitched low and taunting.

At the return of Clarke’s brazen flirting and sly smile, Lexa ducks her head as her cheeks warm. Because, despite the fact that they have spent a good portion of the afternoon swapping orgasms, she still sees Clarke as her best friend, in many ways, who she has only recently had the distinct pleasure of seeing naked.

“I’m sort of a quick study in that department,” Lexa smirks.

“I’ve noticed,” Clarke laughs. They sip their beers in weighted silence for a few beats, sharing glances as they drink, and then Clarke adds to the mounting tension by asking, “So, when do I get to hear more about this date?”

“The details of the date itself are highly classified,” Lexa explains in all seriousness, despite her stomach swooping.

“Classified, huh?” Clarke laughs into another sip of beer.

“Do I honestly strike you as someone who is going to halfass a first date?”

“You don’t strike me as a person who has halfassed anything in their entire life.”

“Correct,” Lexa smiles. She shifts smoothly along the island’s edge until she is again stood on the same side as Clarke, who accepts Lexa’s proximity with a slow-spreading smile. “You know, I could potentially be persuaded to provide a sneak peek of some post-date activities,” she offers, already moving to enter Clarke’s space more fully as their drinks are gingerly slid a good distance away.

She slowly spins Clarke’s stool just enough that she can slot between her legs, and Clarke is already leaning into the touch as Lexa’s hands curve around her jaw. The kiss is like regaining breath after being submerged under water. Their conversation on past events hadn’t been strenuous, by any means, but Lexa registers a sense of relief to have resumed their previous activities all the same.

She sinks into the warmth of Clarke’s lips and tongue, exhaling after several, languid moments. When her hands move to slide up the length of Clarke’s thighs, eliciting a distinctly strained exhale as Lexa teases her fingers beneath the cut-off edge of Clarke’s shorts, it’s abundantly clear where they’re both headed.

They make it as far as the sofa.

Lexa can’t be bothered to maneuver the stairs when there are so many other available surfaces on which to make Clarke slowly shake apart. She does so on her knees while making good on her earlier intents to spend a long stretch of time between Clarke’s legs. The last shards of sunlight are nearly gone, leaving them in golden shadows and dim light from the kitchen while Clarke moans soft encouragements and cards her fingers through Lexa’s hair. There is no rush, no urgency, hardly a sense of time moving at all. Lexa feels calm and confident, content to bring Clarke closer to release at a measured pace as she begins to gently rock against the pressure of Lexa’s tongue. Everything feels languid and slow, like running through water.

It’s not lost on her, as Clarke’s orgasm eventually echoes through the quiet house, heels pressing into her back and Clarke’s fingers threaded into her hair, that this very sofa had been the impetus for their time apart. The innocence of that encounter, as she and Clarke gave in to the comforts of shared sleep, had propelled them toward a shift in their relationship. Looking back, everything that has transpired between them since that singular event seems inevitable.

Falling asleep with Clarke that first time had been rife with implications that they would eventually end up right back here: a cozy, nondescript, weekend night spent on Clarke’s couch with nowhere to go.

The insignificance of an otherwise mundane Saturday is outweighed by the way Lexa’s mouth curves into an easy smile as she kisses the warm skin of Clarke’s inner thigh. Clarke is coming down from the aftershocks of a slow-rolling orgasm when Lexa registers a sharp uptick in her heart rate as they lock eyes while Clarke is still catching her breath.

And, this too holds weight—for all their recent honesty, there are still things Lexa has left unsaid.

“Get up here,” Clarke gently demands. Lexa complies without pause.

Clarke’s sated and satisfied groans melt into scratched laughter that dovetails with their kiss, and the magnitude of what Lexa feels is underscored as their mouths meet.

“I’m going to be honest with you,” Clarke tells her some breath of time later, when Lexa has moved from the floor to the sofa at Clarke’s urging. “If this type of activity is in the cards for date night, I don’t really give a shit what the actual date itself looks like.”

They lay along the length of the sofa, limbs over lapping at certain intervals, and Lexa’s hand flat against Clarke’s stomach beneath her tee shirt.

“Good to know I can scale back my efforts,” Lexa smirks, feeling no less satisfied that she has reduced Clarke’s expectations with one, albeit exemplary, late-afternoon orgasm.

Clarke’s laughter echoes Lexa’s contentment, and her smile grows. She can feel the subtle shaking of Clarke’s diaphragm beneath her fingertips.

“This has been such a good day,” Clarke says, adding further reinforcement to Lexa’s equally satisfied mood. “I really like having your here. Have I mentioned that?”

Lexa grins into Clarke’s close gaze and presses her lips to the edges of Clarke’s smile. “Once or twice.”

“Lincoln is the kindest, most-deserving creature on the planet, but I’m really glad you stayed here instead. Just this once.”

Lexa’s contented smile slips and she nearly groans as her head falls onto the armrest. “I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

“What do you mean?” Clarke laughs.

“I pride myself in being reliable—no excuses. If I say I’ll be there, I’ll be there. Especially when it comes to Lincoln or Anya.” Lexa exhales and glances up to find Clarke’s eyes. “The fact that I neglected our plans for—”

“The best sex of your life?” Clarke supplies with swagger. Lexa’s smile returns without her consent. “I mean, you looked like you were about to say: the best sex of your life.”

As laughter bubbles up from her chest, it vanquishes Lexa’s lingering criticisms about her snap decision to break plans with Lincoln. Clarke’s commentary is a reductive synopsis, at best, but also not entirely untrue. “Yes. Something like that.”

A beat of silence passes and then Clarke says, “If you’re worried he’s going to give you a hard time about breaking plans, wait until you tell him you proposed.”

She buries her face against Clarke’s shoulder to the delighted rasp of Clarke’s giggling laughter and concludes, yet again, that it is the absolute best sound in the world, even at her own expense.

:::

#a pleasant undoing #brewkru!#a beer bud series #clexa fic

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poliel · 3 years

Text

Surprise Egg: 6/13: Adoption

They could’ve perhaps gone straight to Gramble and asked him to adopt the egg but while they were both reasonably sure he’d say ‘yes’ putting that kind of pressure on him wouldn’t have been fair. And it potentially would’ve gotten the town rumor mill going and even in a small town, rumors could get out of control very quickly. They could’ve also gone to each person individually and asked everyone but that was a lot of work and again letting that kind of news possibly spread around unsupervised wouldn’t be wise. So the best and easiest course of action was to gather everyone in town and tell them all at once, asking for volunteers while doing so.

Filbo, amazing and wonderful as always, volunteered to be the one to deliver the news without Buddy even having to ask him to. Which was doubly good because it freed them up to keep watch how everyone reacted and hopefully observe how judgmental they were all likely to be. Buddy had encountered enough hostility from others over expressing their desire to never have kids when it was merely hypothetical, such judgment was only bound to be much worse when there was an actual egg in the equation. They weren’t going to tolerate it if it arose, especially since Filbo had already expressed feeling guilty over the decision.

“As you guys already know, Buddy and I have an egg,” Filbo said as soon as everyone had gathered in the center of town. Given how unsure he’d been just a little while ago, his voice was impressively almost steady, for him anyway. “We had a talk about it after they woke up and we have decided that being parent isn’t a good fit for us and that we should uh… put the egg up for adoption. Which is where you guys come in since you’re the only ones here who could possibly adopt it. So uh… any volunteers?”

The look on most everyone’s face was surprise. As expected, the expressed desire to not be a parent was a rare thing, even more so when an egg had already been born. No one looked mad or offended right off the bat though, seemingly so anyway because Cromdo always looked kind of angry.

Gramble unsurprisingly was the first to step forward. He didn’t get a chance to speak though as Cromdo stepped forward too, cutting him off. “What kind of grump actually wants to give their child up and never see them again? That just don’t make sense.”

“Geez Cromdo,” Beffica cut in, “you seem awfully into this egg. First you’re giving Filbo advice on how to take care of it and now you’re offended he doesn’t want to. And you got that dad tie in your hut, I was sure it was for a scheme but now I’m starting to think it might not be.”

He turned to growl at her. “What are you doing snooping around my cabin? That tie and why I have it ain’t none of yours or anyone else’s business. But…” he snapped back around to face Buddy and Filbo again, “if you two assholes really don’t got what it takes to care for that egg, I’ll do it.”

“No!” Gramble finally spoke up. “I want it. I’ve always wanted an egg but uh… Just let me adopt it, okay?”

“Well if Gramble wants it then I do too,” Wiggle came in with her almost sing-songy tone. “Maybe taking care of a little one will be the exact thing my muse needs to get kicked into gear.”

“You two know I’d take better care of it then Cromdo,” Gramble said. “Especially with Wiggle’s help.”

To nobody’s surprise Cromdo had an objection to that. “Nuh-uh, you’re half-starved and Wiggle just said she wants to use the grumpling solely for inspiration so how could you two possibly do a good job raising a kid?”

“Uh… for what it’s worth,” Triffany cut in before Gramble or Wiggle could do more than gasp in offense, “me and Wamby just had a quick talk and we got experience with raising youngins, two of them in fact and they turned out great. We was thinking about having another but uh… waited a bit too long it seems. So we’d like to be considered for adopting the egg too please.”

“Heck, I volunteer also,” Beffica said, raising a paw.

“You? Really?” Cromdo said, almost as incredulous as Buddy felt.

“Yeah. It’s none of your business why, but I think having a little grumpling might be nice.” Ah, yeah, probably something to do with her expressed belief that she was always gonna end up alone if Buddy had to guess. “Especially since with so many others here who want it too, I’d probably have plenty of help taking care of them and stuff, right?”

“That’s a great idea Beff!” Filbo cut in, pointing at her. “Since all you guys want it, you can maybe all adopt it? And like take turns with it or something. It wouldn’t even be that hard to do with how everyone’s practically neighbours here. And that way Buddy and I don’t have to choose. And, there’s that ‘it takes a village to raise a child,’ saying. It’s probably true, right? So… if everyone’s cool with that…” he trialed off, opening his arms in a gesture for one of the potential adoptees to speak again.

“Well,” Wambus spoke up, “it’s your egg. If that’s how you and Buddy want us to do it then we could probably give it a go. It’d let me and Triffy continue focusing on our own stuff a lot too.”

Filbo turned to Buddy, the question on his face. Trying not to notice how everyone else was staring at them now too, they shrugged. “It can’t hurt, can it?”

Filbo turned back to face everyone else. “I guess that’s how we’re going to do it. You guys can figure out the specifics amongst yourselves, right?”

“Yep! And dibs on pouching the egg first.” Before she’d even finished speaking, Beffica was making her way over to Buddy. “Hey Bestie, I’ll take good care of them, I promise. I’ll make sure the others do too.”

“Thanks,” Buddy said as they handed the egg over with an internal sigh of relief. That had been surprisingly easy and quick to get taken care of and other than Cromdo no one had gotten openly angry at them. The whole thing was almost too good to be true.

As soon as it was safely in Beffica’s paws and before any of the others could get here, they turned and left. Fast walking away because they were done with all that and had important stuff to get back to.

“Wow, that went really well,” Filbo said as he fell into step with them.

“Yeah. No regrets, right?” Buddy certainly felt none.

“Uh… no actually. I still feel kind of bad about doing it or uh… wanting to do it I guess but… it’s a huge relief too.”

“Good.”

A few seconds later, they reached Filbo’s hut. Inside, they pulled their backpack up off the floor and opened it up to pull out Sprout. He seemed rather miffed about having been left in the dark for so long if his frantic skittering around against the walls of his buggy ball and agitated tone in his voice was anything to go by. They pushed him back into their pouch where he belonged, quieting him down immediately. Hmm… they were more attached to a strawberry with googly eyes than to their own egg. That was certainly a bit strange but it didn’t really matter, everyone was happier this way.

Next, they pulled out their camera and hung it around their neck. Then, after zipping the pack closed, they checked to make sure all their hunting equipment was firmly attached to it and that their notebook and recorder were safely in the side pocket before heaving it up onto their shoulders. They then turned to towards the exit where Filbo was standing watching them with a concerned expression on his face. Uh oh.

“You’re uh… not planning on heading out, are you?” he asked even though the way he was blocking the door made it pretty clear he already knew the answer and didn’t like it.

Buddy had to hold back a sigh at yet another delay. “I need to find the Snaxsquatch again and see if I can’t get it to communicate with me more.” And thank it for helping them out. “And I also need to hunt for food for everyone. And I still need to find Lizbert, remember? She’s kinda important for my story and your best friend so you should want me to find her as soon as possible.”

Filbo shifted his stance a bit so that he was blocking the door a bit more. “I do but… you literally gave birth yesterday. You need to rest.”

“I rested plenty already.” That had been the longest they’d slept perhaps in their whole life, especially if one didn’t count the half-awake state they’d been in when stumbling out to raid Wambus’ garden as being properly awake. “It was like midday yesterday when I went into labor and it’s past midday now. That’s like a whole twenty-four hours wasted already.” Not to mention all the time they’d wasted over the past few months because providing for the formation of the egg inside them had drained so much of their already sparse resources. Now that it was outof them, they could devote themself even more to finding Lizbert and completing their story.

Filbo’s frown deepened, making Buddy feel bad because they just wanted to make him happy. “Please. Just… for the rest of today. You can get back to work tomorrow after breakfast but… just take it easy for a little while longer.”

Buddy took a breath to insist on going out now because it was important. The story and finding Lizbert for her sake most of all but the sooner they finished, the sooner they could go home and eat real food again too. If they pushed hard enough, they could probably get Filbo to fold and let them go or perhaps he might firmly stand his ground for once, that’d be nice to see. But… they were still really tired and sore, their pelvis most of all but definitely they just hurt in general too. And they didn’t want to test Filbo’s newfound limits, not yet anyway, not right after the emotional conversation they’d just had about the egg and possibly breaking up over it. So… with a sigh they took their pack off and let it drop to the floor with a thump.

“Does this mean you’re not going out?” Filbo asked with hope and maybe a bit of pride in his voice.

“Yeah.” They put their precious camera away again, not bothering to hide the fact that they were unhappy about this. They reached down to pull Sprout out of their pouch too but… no, he got to stay just because. So instead they turned to look at Filbo again. “As soon as I’m up tomorrow morning, I’m heading out.”

“After breakfast.”

“No. I’ll eat breakfast while on the go.” It would give them an excuse to walk slow.

Filbo looked like he was going to protest but ultimately sighed and finally stepped away the door. “Okay, I guess that’s probably the best I can hope for, huh?”

“Yep.”

I'm allowed to dip into the same well of inspiration twice; half the town adopting the egg is inspired by the Adopted Egg AU. Conversations about that started up around the time I was getting close to writing this chapter and I liked it so half the town adopts it because that kind of thing is cute. Though, unlike the Adopted Egg AU, it doesn't eventually extend into everyone having a turn with the egg, only the group who spoke up have adopted it here.

Also, this was were the fic was supposed to end but it didn't feel complete yet especially with Buddy's instance on being like 'now that that's taken care of it's time for me to go run around and do stuff again' even though they'd just finished going through a surprise labor like 24 hours ago. So I continued writing until the physical fallout of the pregnancy and birth while they're so malnourished and stuff reach a conclusion as well.

#my writing #bugsnax #filbuddy #filbo fiddlepie #the journalist

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Never Give Up On A Miracle by SisterSpooky1013

12,864 words / Read it Here on AO3

X Files Missing Scene Fanfic Exchange gift to @night-of-cydonia , tagging @today-in-fic

Prompt: what happened after the flashbacks in Per Manum, from Mulder’s perspective?

It had been hours. Or it felt like it had been hours, anyway. He craned his neck to see the time on the microwave; 3:15. Her appointment was at 1:00, she should be back by now. He considered calling her, but maybe she wanted to be alone. Maybe it was bad news again. He shifted around a bit to get more comfortable on her small couch, thought about lying down in her bed but decided against it. Thought about digging through her fridge for something to eat, but decided against that, too. If Scully was devastated right now, if the last embryo transfer didn’t work, he had no right to physical comfort or nourishment. So he laid there and waited.

When she’d first asked him to be her sperm donor, he was so shocked he couldn’t speak. That turned out to be a good thing, because she insisted that he not answer right away; she wanted him to take some time to think it over, not go with whatever response came to him readily. He wasn’t sure if she was worried that a too-fast response would be a yes or a no; was she afraid he’d regret saying yes? Or was she worried that he’d say no, but might have said yes if he’d had more time to think? It didn’t matter, his immediate answer was yes, and his answer the next day when he stopped by her apartment was yes, and each and every time he saw her, or thought about it, or went to the clinic for his “deposit,” his mind screamed yes. Yes, I want to father your child. Yes, I want to be tied to you forever. Yes, I want to argue over whether or not they can play contact sports or date when they’re 15 and whether we’re willing to pay out of state tuition for college. Yes, I want it all, with you. He didn’t really know if any of that was available to him; maybe she just wanted his sperm and nothing more. But whatever it was, however little or much she wanted from him and with him, the answer when it came to Scully was always yes.

When he’d come by her apartment to give her his answer, there was so much he’d wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he needed her to be in his life always, that whether she decided to quit the FBI or transfer back to Quantico, or something else entirely, that he would be by her side. He’d tried to say all those things, but what came out was “I wouldn’t want this to come between us,” which he realized too late sounded like he was softening a “no.” The look on her face was a punch to the gut; the gentle quiver in her chin that she recovered from quickly, her rush to assure him that it was okay, that she understood. All the profound things he’d wanted to confess fell out of his head and the only thing he could muster was that the answer was yes. Watching the realization dawn on her, the relief flooding her body, the joy that tugged at the corners of her mouth, felt like magic. That he could make her that happy was something he’d only dreamed of. She’d hugged him so tightly, and he smiled against her hair, smelling her shampoo. For as much pain and suffering as he’d brought into her life, he could do this for her. It didn’t make up for all the rest, but it was something.

He’d had a lot of questions about how the procedure worked, but he didn’t want to burden her with explaining it so he did his own research, learning about all the hormones she’d have to inject herself with to prepare her body and the affects they would have on her, and the need for precise timing of when they transferred the embryo into her uterus.

The embryo.

It was a medical term, but in a literal sense it was the combination of their DNA. Half of her and half of him, duplicating and developing into what had the potential to become a baby. It got them ¾ of the way to pregnant; all the embryo had to do was attach to her uterine lining. It just had to stick around. The statistics said there was a 60% chance, generally speaking, but that didn’t necessarily take into account the damage done to her ova under cryo storage, much less the damage done to her body during her abduction; he doubted the medical community had data on how those factors affected her odds.

The first transfer he was mostly out of the loop on. Scully told him when to go in and provide his sperm sample, and that was it. He observed her mood swings and irritability and inferred they were side effects from the hormones, but he didn’t ask. He didn’t want to be intrusive and wasn’t sure what his role was. He wanted to know everything, but he didn’t think he had a right to. One day, a couple weeks after he’d spent some quality time in the donation room, she’d been flipping through some documents in the office when she got a paper cut. What started with an expletive quickly devolved into sobbing and he was confused, and worried, and a little bit scared. He went to her, gently placing a hand on her back, and she shook her head as if to say “it’s nothing, I’m fine.” He crouched down beside her, trying to see her face, but she hid it in her hands.

“Is it…is it the hormones?” He’d asked tentatively.

She’d looked at him then, her eyes bloodshot and wet, and shook her head again.

“It didn’t take,” she squeaked out between shuddering breaths. “I went in for a pregnancy test yesterday. It didn’t work.”

He’d moved closer, kneeling on the floor beside her chair, and enveloped her in a tight hug, stroking her back as he whispered in her ear reassuringly.

“It’s okay, Scully. We can try again, right?”

She’d nodded, but didn’t speak, her arms wrapped around his neck with a strangling grip. After a time, the sobs that racked her tiny frame subsided and she sniffled, relaxing a little. He took a chance at humor, wanting to bring some levity to the moment.

“That one just wasn’t the one, Scully. It was probably the next Jeffrey Dahmer or something.”

She snuffed a small laugh, pulling back to look at him. The pain in her eyes gripped at his heart and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep his own emotions from spilling over.

“Why didn’t you tell me when the transfer was, or when you were taking a test?” He asked, hoping that his tone conveyed care and concern, not irritation.

She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be that involved. I didn’t want you to feel obligated I guess.”

He picked up one of her hands from her lap and held it between both of his.

“I want to be as involved as you’ll allow me to be. It’s your decision, but I’d like to know where you’re at in the process, if I can. Did more than one zygote make it to embryo stage? Did they freeze any?” His knees ached from kneeling on the floor but he didn’t want to lose this moment where she seemed to be opening up to him.

The corner of her mouth quirked and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Yes, there were three embryos resulting from fertilization. They transferred one, and the other two are in cold storage. How do you know so much about this, Mulder?”

He gave her a shy smile and shrugged.

“Well I wanted to know what was going to happen to my… my genetic material, so I did a little research.”

Her mouth screwed up in attempt to hide her smile. It was an expression he knew well.

“I promise I’ll let you know for the next one” she finally said, putting her other hand on top of his and squeezing.

She was good to her word, letting him know when she started her period, and that the next transfer would be about 15 days later. She’d even jokingly asked him how his donation appointment went and then laughed at him as his face turned beet red, assuring him it wasn’t a question she expected him to answer. When she snapped at him for something mundane, she apologized and explained that the hormones she was taking to prepare her uterine lining for the embryo transfer made her irritable. On the day of the transfer, she wouldn’t let him go with her but she did let him bring her dinner afterward, and then pretended not to mind that he treated her like she was made of glass until the day she could take a test. Being included in the anticipation and build up was amazing, and he found himself daydreaming about what a child of theirs would look like, how cute Scully would look with a little belly. It also made it that much harder when she called him to say that it didn’t take again. He asked if he could come over, but she insisted that she wanted to be alone. He sat in his empty apartment as the weight of disappointment settled on his shoulders, and he realized how much he had wanted it. Not just for Scully, he’d wanted it for him. He wanted to be a father, wanted to share a child with her. He’d never had strong feelings either way about parenthood, and now he could see that was because he’d never known anyone he wanted to be a parent WITH. Now that he had glimpsed what having a child with Scully might be like, he wanted it more than just about anything. A few quiet tears rolled down his cheeks and he wiped them away before grabbing his gym bag and heading out to shoot some hoops.

They’d had three eggs that fertilized, three chances, and that was it. There were no more viable eggs. The third cycle felt different, less anticipatory and more desperate. She kept him in the loop, but they were both on edge the whole time. After the transfer, she took a day off to relax, hopefully increase her odds, and he brought her lunch and smiled through his anxiety while they talked about everything except what they were both thinking about. He wanted it to work, so badly, but there was nothing he could do to affect the outcome. It felt incredibly helpless, standing by while she overanalyzed every twinge in her belly, wondering if it meant something. Over lunch the day before she went in for her test, he gently asked if he could come with her, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice. It was news that he was just as invested in as she was, even though he worked hard to hide it. The last thing he wanted to do was add his own emotional needs to her overloaded plate; she should only be worrying about herself, not him. She declined, but compromised on letting him wait for her at her apartment, so he’d know as soon as she got home, and so he could be with her either way.

So here he was, waiting. The delay in her return told him he should prepare for bad news, but the mind is a fickle thing and he was still dreaming of a positive. He envisioned a daughter, a tiny thing with red hair and blue eyes. Basically a pint sized version of Scully, freckles and all. She’d be wicked smart, of course, and curious as hell. He wondered if Scully would want to name her after one of their sisters, maybe both. Would she want the baby to have his last name? It would be her choice, but the idea of another Samantha Mulder having a chance in the world made him smile as a lump formed in his throat. At some point he drifted off, visions of tossing a toddler in the air while Scully looked on with a smile dancing behind his eyelids.

It was the thunk of the deadbolt that woke him. He jolted upright, orienting himself to space and time, rushing quickly to the realization that he was about to learn his fate. Standing, he spoke.

“Scully? I must have dozed off, I was waiting for you to get back.”

One look at her face was enough. He felt his stomach lurch. He tried to find words as his heart quickened, searching for a sign one way or the other, grasping at hope. But he knew. She walked towards him slowly, her chin puckered and her eyes wet. It was bad news.

“It didn’t take, did it?”

“I guess it was too much to hope for,” her voice was strained around the fresh tears that pooled in her eyes.

He felt his heart break. He’d hurt many times, for many reasons. He’d worried over Scully countless times. He’d cried for her, and with her. He’d grieved for his sister for the majority of his life. But this hurt was different. This was the woman he loved more than life itself telling him that her dreams of being a mother were over. It was the end of a road, the slam of a door, the handful of dirt tossed on a coffin containing hope. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and hiding his own pained expression in her hair, rocking her back and forth gently.

“It was my last chance” she keened into his ear, and he pulled a deep breath in through is nose to ward off his own tears. He needed to be strong for her. She could not bear the weight of his own grief on top of hers. He held her tighter. Closing his eyes, he tried to steady his breath, swallowing the lump in his throat until he thought he could speak without crying. Pulling away from her slightly, he kissed her forehead and then rested his own against it, taking another beat to recover.

“Never give up on a miracle” he finally said, not sure what exactly he meant by it. He knew he didn’t want her to give up, but he wasn’t sure what a miracle would look like. He did know that if anyone was deserving of a miracle, it was Scully.

She leaned back into him, tilting her face towards his so that for a moment, he thought she was going to kiss him. Just before her lips met his she passed his mouth and instead pressed them against his cheek, resting them there for a beat before she returned to his embrace. They stood like that for an agonizingly long time, rocking gently back and forth while her tears soaked the shoulder of his sweater and and her sobs became more shallow and further apart. He held her until she grew limp in his arms, and then he bent down and scooped her up, carrying her to the couch where he sat with her in his lap. She leaned into his chest, her eyes closed, as he reached down and plucked her boots from her feet, tossing them to the floor in a way that he knew would drive her crazy if she had the wherewithal to care. Next he pushed her coat off one arm, then lifted her torso off him gently to pull it free from the other arm and tossed it, too, onto the floor. Settling back against the couch, he wrapped one arm around her waist and encouraged her to lean into him, her forehead nestled in the crook of his neck. His other hand peppered her with tiny touches of reassurance; a brush down her shin, a stroke on the outside of her thigh, a thumb grazing her jaw, fingertips dancing over her arm, and finally intertwining with hers and settling in her lap. She was quiet for a long time, so long that he thought she may have fallen asleep. Finally she took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked. It was a rhetorical question, but the only only one he could come up with.

“Not really” she answered, her voice flat.

“What do you need?” He inquired further. He felt like he should do something for her. What do you do for someone who just had their dreams stomped into dust?

She didn’t answer, but he felt her head shake gently against him. She didn’t know what she needed anymore than he did.

“Would you like to take a bath?” He asked, giving her a brief squeeze.

Now she nodded, her cheek brushing against his chest. “That sounds nice.”

He placed a kiss on her forehead before he stood with her in his arms; she was so light it took almost no exertion. He turned and set her gently on the couch and then went in to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He used the toilet and then stared at his reflection while he washed his hands. He stared back at himself, his eyes empty and expressionless. He willed himself not to feel, not to let the sadness overtake him too. He needed to focus on Scully. A pang of pain gripped at his heart and he closed his eyes, biting his lip. Just be here for her. Be her strength. She needs you. With a deep breath, he set his jaw, dried his hands, and drew her a bath.

When he returned to the living room, she was curled up in a ball on her side, staring vacantly. He knelt down beside her and ran his hand down the length of her arm. He forced a small smile to his lips. Be strong for her, he reminded himself.

“Hey,” he said in a near whisper. “Bath’s all ready for you.”

She lifted her head and he offered his hand to help her pull her to standing. She listed slightly, unsteady on her feet, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, escorting her into the bathroom.

“holler if you need me, okay?”

She nodded mutely and he left her, leaving the door open a crack. Returning to the living room, he looked around for something productive to do. He picked up her shoes and set them neatly by the door, hung her coat in the closet, straightened the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. Scully kept her apartment very tidy, so there wasn’t much to be done. It was nearly 5, he should think about dinner soon. A cursory inventory of her fridge indicated that they’d need to order out. Maybe they should watch a movie. Maybe she’d just want to go to bed. Should he get her pajamas ready for her? There was that helpless feeling again.

A sound from the bathroom interrupted his train of thought and he froze, listening. A low moan of agony sounded, followed by a gut wrenching sob. He walked quickly to the bathroom, knocking gently as he brought his lips to small space between the open door and the frame.

“Scully?”

Another wail and a sob. He felt a sharp pain in his chest.

“Scully, are you okay?”

He could hear her falling apart, the shredding sound of her pain gripping at him. He needed to go to her.

“Scully, I’m coming in.”

He pushed the door open slowly, the bathtub coming into view incrementally. She was sitting near the faucet with her legs tucked against her chest, her arms wrapped around them protectively. Her forehead was resting on her knees, and she was shaking with sobs as primal, guttural sounds escaped her lips, which were pulled into a grimace.

He rushed to her side, placing his hand on the bare skin of her back, which was dry and cool in the open air.

“Scully? Talk to me.” He felt afraid. He’d never seen her like this before.

She was shivering violently, her jaw chattering. She wouldn’t respond to him. She had gone somewhere else, somewhere deep inside herself. He needed to either pull her back, or go there with her. He needed to be with her. He stood, pulling his sweater and t shirt over his head in one quick movement, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down his legs, plucking off his socks. In a matter of seconds, he was down to his boxers, stepping into the empty space behind her in the tub. He pushed his legs into the narrow gaps on either side of her body and wrapped his arms around her, on top of her own. He pulled her to him so that her back was flush against his chest, and the shock of his warm skin against hers, which was chilled, seemed to jolt her back into reality. She went slack, releasing her grip around her legs as they straightened out before her, her head dropping back against him as she wailed. When she changed position, his arms had drifted to hold her around her rib cage, the soft swell of her breasts brushing against his forearms. She was so raw, so vulnerable, she didn’t even have the sense to care that she was draped over him naked, completely exposed. He was so engulfed with her pain, and with his own threatening to take center stage and pull him under with her, that he didn’t have the presence of mind to be affected by it like he normally may have been. He could see the taper of her waist and the triangle of hair at the apex of her thighs, he took in the pinkness of her nipples and the wobble of her breasts as her body shook with her grief, but that’s all it was, grief. He didn’t allow himself to see the beautiful naked body of the woman he loved, he only saw how much pain she was in, and wanted to find some way, any way possible, to help her.

“It’s okay, I’m here” he cooed into her ear, gently rolling side to side in a rocking motion.

She turned then, flipping over on to her belly so that they were chest to chest, her head on his shoulder and her arms wrapping around his torso beneath the water. She was still crying, but more softly, more in control, more present. He looked down the expanse of her bare back, the swell of her buttocks bobbing just above the water line. He saw her tattoo, something she kept mostly hidden from him, and he reached out to trace his finger over it, and endless circle against her skin. His chin quivered and he closed his eyes, keeping his breath steady so she wouldn’t sense the tears that were breaking free from his eyes, rolling down to drop into her hair. He brushed them away, his wet hand spreading even more water on his face, which would only help hide what he wanted to shield her from. Her cries subsided slowly, and then stopped altogether as the water grew tepid. He felt her body stiffen, and knew that she had returned to a level of awareness that made her uncomfortable with how exposed she was and the intimate nature of what they were doing. He lifted his hand to brush her hair from her face tenderly.

“Let me get you a towel, okay?”

She slithered away from him, pulling arms and legs into position to shield her breasts and vulva from view so that he could step out, his soaked boxer shorts clinging to his anatomy. He pulled a towel from the rack and held it open, high enough that it would block his view of her, and she stood so he could wrap it around her tiny frame as she stepped onto the bath mat. He hugged her toweled form to his chest, kissing the crown of her head.

“I’m sorry” she murmured.

He pulled back a bit and looked at her face with confusion.

“For what?” He asked, his voice full of concern.

She shook her head. “I’m a mess” she finally said, her eyes on the floor.

He hooked his finger under her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to look at him.

“Of course you are. It’s okay to be a mess sometimes, Scully. It’s nothing to be sorry for.”

The ache in her eyes told him that she felt guilty for needing him, for being weak.

“Let me take care of you. Please.” He implored, and she closed her eyes and nodded softly.

Stepping away from her, he grabbed a second towel and wrapped it around his waist, reaching underneath to pull off his wet underwear and draping it over the side of the tub before slipping his hand under the water to pull the plug.

“come on, let’s get you dressed,” he directed her, putting his hand on her back as they walked to her bedroom.

She sat on the edge of her bed, exhausted but seemingly out of tears to shed for the moment.

“There are some clothes of yours, in the bottom drawer” she said absently over her shoulder, and he pulled it open to find clean boxers, sweatpants and t shirts, all items he’d noticed go missing at one time or another.

“You starting a collection, G-woman?” He teased her, and he was relieved to see her shoulders lift in the tiniest of chuckles. It was something.

He pulled on dry clothes, not concerned that she might turn and see him nude, then started looking through her other drawers for something she might like to wear.

“Do you want pajamas?” He asked, and she shrugged noncommittally. She didn’t care.

He grabbed some silk pajama pants, a black t shirt that looked like it would be comfortably baggy, and then paused at the smaller top drawers he knew would contain her bras and underwear. Which would be more intrusive; going into her underwear drawer or dressing her commando? He glanced at her over his shoulder and quietly opened the drawer. What was most readily available were black cotton briefs, and he snagged a pair to add to the pile of clothes. Towards the back, he could see lace, and red, pink and blue somethings. He glanced over his shoulder again; she had fallen to her side, her back still to him, head on the pillow. With preemptive guilt, he plucked at the red lace with his fingertips, pulling forward an impossibly tiny thong. He felt a little stirring in his pants and shoved it back in, chastising himself for thinking about her like that in a time like this. He closed the drawer and set the pile of clothes on her nightstand, kneeling down on the floor beside her. Her eyes were open and staring at nothing. She was there, but not. He touched her arm gently to get her attention.

“Scully? There are some clothes for you here. I’m going to order dinner, is there anything in particular that sounds good to you?”

Her eyes focused on him as though she’d only just realized he was there.

“What?”

“What do you want to eat?” He pushed a lock of hair off her forehead and tucked it behind her ear.

She sighed deeply before responding. “I don’t know, Mulder. I’m not sure I can eat.”

“I’ll have to order something really, really good then, so you can’t resist,” he smiled softly at her.

She pushed her mouth into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Okay.”

He left her to get dressed and ordered pizza from her favorite place, then picked through her DVD collection and opted for something silly and light. Just when he was about to go check on her, she emerged from her bedroom dressed in the clothes he’d picked out and looking slightly more alert. She stopped to look at the opening credits playing on the TV.

“Weekend at Bernies?” She asked with raised eyebrows.

“You own it, Scully, don’t try to act like you don’t like it.”

She pursed her lips and nodded, having no retort for that fact, and sat beside him on the couch, folding her legs beneath her. Mulder appraised her out of the corner of his eye; she looked better, a little bit anyway. They watched the movie in companionable silence, Scully smiling but not laughing at the funny parts, until a knock on the door alerted them that dinner had arrived. After paying the delivery boy, he plopped it unceremoniously on the coffee table and grabbed a roll of paper towels.

“Whose apartment are we at, Mulder?” She asked him with a teasing tone, and he got up to retrieve two plates as well two beers from the fridge. “That’s more like it” she declared, and he was relieved by how much she sounded like herself.

They enjoyed upwards of an hour of something resembling normalcy, but he knew that didn’t mean they were out of the woods. While people like to see grief as a concentrated experience that is constant until it disappears, he knew that it operated more like waves against a shore; sometimes gently lapping, sometimes receding into almost nothing, sometimes crashing suddenly without warning. He would enjoy this still water, ready to hold her up when it returned to knock her on her ass, if she’d let him.

She didn’t eat much, picking at one slice of pizza until it was eventually gone, but she did finish her beer and then lay down, not resisting when he picked up her bare feet and set them in his lap, brushing his thumbs gently against the arches in an almost-foot rub. As the movie approached its conclusion, he glanced at her and saw that her eyes were again wet and shining, though her expression was neutral. He squeezed the foot in his hand and she looked at him, offering a sad smile.

“You wanna go to bed?” He asked, and she nodded. It wasn’t yet 9pm, but she was exhausted from emotion.

He stood and offered his hands to pull her to her feet, pausing to wrap her up in a brief hug before he escorted her to her bedroom. He wanted desperately to be near her, but he also knew that she often chose solitude when she was sad, and the fact that she’d allowed him to be here as long as she had was likely the limit of what he was going to get. Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d let him sleep on the couch. He was considering how to make this request as he pulled back the covers and tucked her into bed, sitting beside her hip on top of the comforter. She took his hand and looked at him in the soft light seeping in from the living room with something like trepidation in her eyes.

“Will you stay?” She asked, and the doubt in her voice shocked him.

“Of course I will,” he answered, squeezing her hand. “I can crash on the couch.”

She shook her head gently. “Will you stay here, with me?”

That lump was back, constricting his voice, so he just smiled at her and nodded, crawling over her legs to lay down behind her on top of the comforter, draping his arm over her waist. They were quiet for a while, but he could feel the buzzing of her thoughts and knew she wasn’t sleeping. It was getting chilly as night fell, and he shivered in his T shirt and sweats.

“Are you cold?” She asked, turning her face to the ceiling in an attempt to look at him.

“I’m okay” he lied.

“Get under the covers,” she ordered, and he complied, the warmth of her tiny body a welcome reprieve from the chill of the room. He returned his arm to its station at her waist and she took his hand under the blankets, clutching it to her belly. She sighed deeply.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, sensing that she wanted to talk.

She rolled on to her back, not releasing his hand, and looked at the ceiling as she spoke. “I just…” she started then stopped, and he watched quietly as a tear escaped the side of her eye and trailed down into her ear. “I feel like I don’t know what to do, how to move forward. Being a mother was always what I pictured for my future, and knowing that I’ll never be one….” She stopped again, wiped her free hand at her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was tight and pained. “I feel like I have no purpose. I know it’s stupid and I don’t believe at all that a woman’s only function in life is to bear children, but I still find myself feeling like my life holds no meaning now. What’s the point of this life if I’ll have nothing to show for it, no legacy to leave?”

He felt his own chin quiver and he pulled her to him, burying her face in his chest and wrapping his arms around her back, cocooning her against his body with her toes brushing his shins. He let out a shuddering breath as quiet tears rolled across the bridge of his nose and into the pillow, rubbing her back and willing himself to regain control. How could he tell her that he felt the same way? When his mom was gone, he would have no one on this Earth who was family to him. He would leave no legacy, at least not one he could be proud of. All he had was her, and she was questioning her worth.

“That’s not true, Scully,” he whispered, whispering being all he could manage through his emotions. “You can’t think like that. For one, this doesn’t have to be the end of the road for you, there are other options, other ways you can be a mom. And even if you choose not to pursue those, you have touched so many lives, mine included. Don’t ever think you won’t leave a legacy.”

She didn’t reply, just sobbed against him, clutching at his back until weariness overtook her and she drifted into a fitful sleep. Mulder stayed awake for a long time, enjoying the proximity to her that he so rarely experienced, the gentle thrum of her heart beating against his sternum a reminder that for all they had lost, they still had each other. At some point, he joined her in the reprieve of unconsciousness.

When he woke, the room was dim though the clock told him it was after 8am. He could hear the patter of rain against the window; a dreary, grey day to complement their broken hearts. He turned to see Scully still sleeping, her plump lips slightly parted and her blonde eyelashes fluttering with dreams. He wanted so badly to kiss her, but now was not the time. He didn’t want her to think it was borne of pity, or sadness, or anything other than an unabashed desire to touch and love her the way she deserved, the way he’d wanted to for years. Reluctantly, he left the warmth of her bed and body to use the bathroom and then start a pot of coffee.

When she emerged 40 minutes later, he was sitting on the couch in silence, a cup of coffee in his hands and his feet on the table.

“Morning” he greeted her with a warm smile, and he felt his heart clench when she walked right over and sat beside him, leaning into his torso so he would wrap an arm around her shoulders, her head on his chest. He had the distinct feeling that she had missed him from her bed and sought out the comfort of his physical presence, and he placed a kiss to the crown of her head in appreciation. “Sleep okay?”

“Okay enough,” she answered.

“Do you feel up to going out for breakfast? Or I can go pick it up and bring it back here, if you want.”

“No, I should get dressed and attempt to be a functioning human at some point” she said, sitting up extracting herself from his embrace. “Give me 30 minutes?”

“I’ll be here, take your time” he replied, and she retreated to the bathroom where he heard the shower come on. Her change in demeanor lifted his spirits, and her acceptance of his comfort drew a smile to his lips. Though he hated the circumstances, he couldn’t deny how good the physical closeness felt. He knew that she’d likely put her walls back up without warning, and vowed to enjoy it while it lasted.

After a short wait, they snagged a booth at one of Scully’s favorite breakfast spots that offered things beyond pancakes and bacon; scrambles on a bed of greens with whole cloves of garlic and house made potatoes were just what she needed. He was happy to see her actually eat and they chatted idly about a case they were planning to fly out on next week, some bureau gossip and the merits of jam versus jelly. During a lull in conversation, he saw Scully glance behind him toward the door and her face fell. He turned to look and immediately knew that the very pregnant woman talking to the hostess was the source of her demeanor change. He slipped out from his side of the booth and sidled up next to her on her side, taking her hand under the table wordlessly.

“I know this is going to sound really terrible,” she spoke in a hushed tone, “but this whole experience has made me really hate pregnant women. I feel angry at them for being able to get pregnant when I can’t.” He easily identified the shame in her statement.

“I think that’s pretty normal. I’ve always kind of hated people with normal families and parents who give them the time of day. It’s not very productive, but it can be pretty cathartic, at least in my experience.”

She looked at him skeptically. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No, I’m serious. When I see a two parent family with a boy and a girl, having a nice time out at the park or whatever, some part of my brain thinks ‘I hope they drop their ice cream cone on the pavement.’”

Scully laughed. The sound paired with the broad smile on her face were like fireworks and he beamed at her.

“That’s messed up, Mulder. I like it.”

“I bet that lady’s baby will come out with one of those smushed cone heads” he offered.

“I bet she has heartburn so bad she hasn’t slept in weeks” she retorted, smiling guiltily.

#XFMissing2021 #the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files

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humanmoodring-retired · 3 years

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What Ain’t Living Can Never Really Die || Solo

TIMING: Current SUMMARY: Nadia doesn’t really sleep sometimes. That doesn’t mean the bad dreams don’t find her, anyway. CONTENT: Allusions to PTSD

Nadia doesn’t really sleep sometimes. Even before the possession, the first possession, years ago when she was a different person, she didn’t really sleep. Too many thoughts going on in that head of hers, her parents said. Her thoughts plagued her, her anxieties bothered her, her worries haunted her. She was kept awake by tests and papers and feelings that she now knew weren’t all hers. Some were, but not all of them.

Now, Nadia was literally haunted. Maybe not really, not anymore, but it felt like it. Sleeping seemed to open up the door to get haunted a little bit more every time she managed to pass out. The only time she slept well was when there was another person around, someone to feel and latch onto, if not physically then emotionally. And so maybe she’s fallen asleep in the coffee shop because the baristas’ boredom was so tantalizingly peaceful, and maybe she uses her breaks at the library to catch naps to the soothing feeling of contentment that comes from being around her coworkers. Other times… Well, Rhiannon didn’t seem put out anymore about the fact that Nadia tended to wake up crying. If it was possible, the cat seemed concerned.

She has rituals, things to keep herself from falling asleep or feeling unsafe. Her bedroom is warded and she even gave in and bought salt, the lines of it stretching in front of the doorway and the windows. She won’t ward the apartment; over the course of her time as a ghost, she learned that not all of them were bad. Some of them she even liked, as strange as the feeling was. But she needed her privacy, and she needed to be assured that she had somewhere safe, even if it didn’t feel safe.

Every night, multiple times a night, and every day when she got home, she checked the wards. She checked the salt lines. She forced herself to write down her thoughts, any thoughts, even if it was just half-assed poetry, and she kept up with the date, and, dammit, she never missed a fucking day, okay? She had multiple notebooks now, dating back to the day she stepped into her apartment door on her own for the first time in months, and she never missed a day. She couldn’t miss a day. She avoided mirrors at night, especially on the nights she actively tried to sleep. She brushed her teeth with her head down, washed her face with her eyes closed, and never made eye contact with herself. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

And, on the nights that she actually set aside to try and sleep, she still used the iron manacles that she had attached to her bed for months. She locked herself in and stared at the ceiling for hours and recited Wilde, or Austen, or Dickinson in her head until she couldn’t anymore, and it sucked, but there was nothing else to do. At least, on those nights, she didn’t accidentally sleepwalk into cemeteries and make friends with dead people.

She wasn’t sleeping tonight, a book on folklore and legends in Maine open on her lap and an empty mug on the coffee table. Calling it “tonight” was a bit of a stretch, though. The clock’s hands were grasping at four in the morning, and it wouldn’t be long before sunlight entered the picture. Sunrises, she’d learned, were almost inherently more beautiful than sunsets, even if they were both lovely. Hell, she was just grateful to be able to experience them, at this point.

Nadia stood up, putting the blanket she’d been using on top of Rhiannon, causing the sleepy cat to swat at her before settling back down. Nadia grabbed the mug and headed to the kitchen, intent to fill it up again. As she stretched, she felt the scarring on her side twinge. Even months later, the wound as healed as it was probably going to get, the scars were never going to fade. Sometimes they still hurt. She was never going to forget the way a knife felt going all the way through her before being roughly pulled out, and she was never going to forget the looks on her friends faces as she thought she was going to die.

She wouldn’t say that she was supposed to because Regan hadn’t screamed, and that was pretty damn important. And it wasn’t like Nadia just dreamed of dying inside a salt circle with exorcists chanting over her. But, damn. It had happened three times now. And nothing that she found online or from anyone that she talked to mentioned anything about people surviving more than one exorcism. The exorcisms in multiple had to have fucked her up somehow.

Instead of carrying the mug to the kitchen, she ended up walking without thinking into her bathroom, washing it in the sink as she was too busy thinking. Three exorcisms. One that had left her feeling broken down and weird after six years. One that had literally displaced her from her body. And one that had hurt, just as bad as being stabbed, almost worse. Maybe worse. Everything blended together. She dumped the water out of the mug and into the sink, looked up, and made eye contact with her reflection.

It was her reflection. It was hers. Nadia knew that it was hers. But, late at night when everything was too quiet and her thoughts were too loud, she didn’t see herself. The circles under her eyes seemed too dark, like the ones on cartoon characters to point out the villain. Bathroom mirrors reminded her of fractured memories, of blood on countertops, on hands. They reminded her of wicked smiles stretched tight, winks caught in mirrors, and the feeling of falling into fathomless abysses. She fell for years, years and years and years, and when she finally hit the ground, the breath knocked out of her and her throat raw from screaming, everything had changed.

Everything had changed.

Nadia set the mug down, refusing to let it shatter (because she broke too many things these days), and gripped the side of the sink. Her heart was pounding. Her breathing was erratic. She felt so fucking stupid. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Because Cordelia wasn’t there, and Cordelia wasn’t inside of her. The last that Nadia saw of the bitch, she’d been a redheaded woman that screamed as she was torn apart from the inside, a ghost then a shadow then nothing at all. Nadia reminded herself of that on a loop, a matra that she could never allow herself to forget.

Not that it mattered. Cordelia would always be gone, for good, everywhere except in Nadia’s mind. She wedged a part of herself into Nadia that could never truly be taken away. She couldn’t be killed, not really. No matter how much Nadia just wanted her gone, she would always live on. Always. Always. There was nothing Nadia could fucking do to get rid of her. Nothing. Nothing.

It took far too long to regulate her breathing, tears forming in her eyes as she managed to choke out one, two, three sobs. Nadia cleaned herself up, and sh didn’t look in the mirror. She couldn’t stay in the apartment anymore, even if it was the safest place for her to be. Sometimes, there was still too much Cordelia in the apartment.

(That wasn’t true. There was barely any evidence of Cordelia left at all. All the shatter glass had been cleaned. The ghost’s favorite alcohol and food had been thrown out. The clothes she’d bought had been burned. All that was left was what remained of Cordelia’s money, and maybe it was selfish of Nadia to keep it, but it was something to fall back on, a nest egg if she ever needed to run. No, the only thing really left of Cordelia in the apartment was Nadia herself, and she hated that.)

She grabbed her jacket, though she was sure that the snow that had fallen the day before had already melted as summer temperatures soaked into the night in her neighborhood, and she headed down three flights of stairs.

This time, when she made it to the cemetery, she wasn’t chasing ghosts; she was looking for them. She saw the spot where she’d met Griffin and where she’d ended up talking to him and the spirits in the cemetery. She could see them now, the spirits, the only shadows that existed in the dark.

“Hello,” Nadia called out, and she walked to a bench, keeping to the path so that she didn’t walk over anyone’s grave. The spirits followed her, and they stood around her, and Nadia could almost make out their whispering voices. Maybe, if she had more sleep, she’d be able to hear them better. Or maybe she needed less sleep. She didn’t know.

“You’re all talking at once, I think,” she said, a small smile working its way onto her face, and if she felt tired and wary, then this was making it a little better. These were okay ghosts. This was okay. “Just, like, hey, no, one at a time, please. I’ll try to listen. I’m trying to listen. I don’t know. Speak up and speak slow. And, please, for the love of God, don’t fucking possess me. It’d really piss me off.”

So, that was how Nadia ended up listening to ghosts in the cemetery, at ease even surrounded by dead things. After all, the spirit in her head would always hurt her more than the spirits in these gates.

#what ain't living can never really die #p: solo #wickedswriting

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iatethepomegranate · 3 years

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We are not alone in the dark with our demons: Chapter 9

A fic in which Caleb buys a house with Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, becomes a professor, learns to be a person, and fights to protect others from what happened to him.

Content warnings: Caleb's backstory, implied abuse, medical trauma

Chapter summary: The morning comes, and there are two boys who need Caleb's help.

Chaper notes: My writing is slowing a bit, and work is starting to pick up. Updates will probably be slower from now on. Chapter title is from Woodwork by Sleeping At Last

****

Chapter 9: The world reappears and it breaks us new

The morning was slow. Essek read as Caleb lay in bed for a while, taking stock of the aches in his body and the cracks in his psyche. Caduceus had healed most of his injuries, leaving him mostly with minor aches and pains that were no different than he had experienced on the road. And the help from Caduceus and Essek last night had meant he had been able to sleep. Not as much as he needed, really, but enough that he wasn’t going to burst into tears if someone looked at him funny.

He was as okay as he was going to be. He soaked in the last few moments of warmth in bed, and Essek’s hand scratching his scalp like he would a cat, before heaving himself up and getting ready for the day ahead. This one would be difficult, too.

They ate breakfast together on the floor of Nico’s room, conversing quietly. Caduceus had served grilled tomatoes with poached eggs, toast and fried mushrooms in a generous sauce of butter, mixed herbs Caleb couldn’t place, and a ton of garlic. Food was more appealing this morning, and Caleb was famished. He also had a headache, probably from dehydration, so Caduceus had brought him a huge glass of water.

“Caddy, you could be a professional cook,” Beauregard said through a mouthful of food.

“Swallow your food before talking,” Caduceus said, ignoring her comment aside from a small smirk.

She swallowed. “Whatever, man.”

Essek was eating carefully, like he was afraid to spill anything on the floor. “Do we know when your old friends are arriving, Caleb?”

“They didn’t give us an exact time,” said Beauregard. “So who the fuck knows?”

“No later than eleven,” said Caleb. “Possibly by ten. They said they would be here in the morning.”

“I mean, 11:59 is still technically morning.”

“Not for Volstrucker.”

Caleb watched the others as their shoulders tightened, jaws clenched, eyes burned with fury at the implications they read in Caleb’s soft tone. Before they collectively breathed out and went back to eating. It was an odd mix of comfort and sadness to see how strongly they were affected by what he, and by extension the Volstrucker, had been through. He felt okay enough in this moment that it didn’t break him.

Essek laid a hand on his knee. Silent comfort. And he was okay enough that that didn’t break him, either. Even as tired as he was.

He helped Caduceus wash the dishes afterwards, needing to do something with his hands while they waited. As they stacked the dried dishes and put them away, Caduceus spoke for the first time since they had begun.

“You look better.” Caduceus kept his voice neutral, as if making a casual observation. Caleb was grateful for that.

“I feel better. Thank you for last night.”

“Oh, psh.”

That was the extent of their discussion on the matter. Wulf and Astrid arrived shortly thereafter, moving stiffly with poorly-concealed pain. Caleb met them at the door. Astrid headed straight upstairs with barely a word, but Wulf lingered in the centre of the living room.

He watched Astrid’s departure with a tense quirk to the corner of his mouth. “So, we all agree yesterday was fucked up, right?”

“I am the last person to disagree, Wulf.”

His eyes slid to Caleb’s; his face was stern as it often was, but there was pain in his eyes that he probably wasn’t displaying by choice. “You all right?”

“As all right as I can be, I suppose.” It was true now; it hadn’t been last night. “You?”

“Hm.” His mouth twitched. Looked away. “Not my favourite memory to revisit.”

In the moment, there had been no time for hesitation. Caleb had needed to give directions and get shit done. And he had known Wulf was the best option to handle Nico in whatever state they found him in.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb said. “You had the best chance with him.”

“I know.” Wulf exhaled through his nose, rubbing his wrists and hands as all of them often did to work out the kinks of repeated spellwork. The three of them used to do it for each other. Now Caleb and Essek sometimes did. He wondered if Wulf and Astrid still did it. “For better or worse, I have experience.” He swallowed. “There were no good options. Didn’t like to watch you run into a burning building, either, but…” He looked away.

Caleb wasn’t sure what to say. They were still awkward with each other. It wasn’t that long ago that Wulf had quite literally stabbed him. And now Wulf had just spoken more to Caleb than he had in a very long time. He was still rubbing his hands, looking everywhere but Caleb, and the whole thing was extremely uncomfortable.

Caleb had been uncomfortable a lot in social situations, especially in the last year. He could take it. And he could easily either wait Wulf out or bait him into speaking whatever else was on his mind.

“Wulf.” Caleb found the right tone, the one he had once used to break Wulf down when he was having a bad day and wasn’t talking about it.

Wulf closed his eyes, his grimace becoming an irritated half-smile. “What?”

Caleb waited. Wulf looked at him, annoyed. Caleb smiled at him. Wulf looked away, swearing under his breath.

“Wulf,” Caleb said slowly, “what’s the matter?”

He crossed his arms (great forearms as always), shoulders hunched a little. And when he spoke, it was almost too quiet for Caleb to hear. “Can I have a hug?”

“Ja, of course.” Caleb would be lying if he said he’d expected that, but he certainly wasn’t going to turn Wulf down. They were both going through a lot right now, and despite the light stabbing, Caleb did still care a great deal for him.

Wulf didn’t move. Caleb waited a moment longer, until it was clear Wulf was not going to initiate. So he stepped forward and put his hands on Wulf’s shoulders until he looked at him.

“All right,” Caleb said. “Come here.” He slid his arms around him, and Wulf stepped forward, tentatively holding onto his waist. Wulf relaxed into the hug, folding downwards until his forehead met Caleb’s shoulder.

He breathed, and shuddered a little. Caleb held him tighter, and could feel the barest tremors surging through Wulf’s body. His hands spasmed on Caleb’s back.

When they finally separated, Wulf cleared his throat, straightened his coat and said, “Not one word. To anyone.”

“Don’t worry,” Caleb said wryly, “your reputation is safe.”

Wulf raised his eyebrow; it was attractive. “Cute.”

“Some things haven’t changed.”

The moment was taut, like stretched twine. Wulf chuckled. “Some things have.”

“Oh?”

There was a soft laugh from the stairs; Astrid had evidently doubled back. “Careful, Wulf. His drow boyfriend is upstairs.”

The tension snapped; Wulf stepped back, the ghost of laughter still on his lips. “Yeah, I don’t know how you seduced the Shadowhand of all people, but you were always really fucking charismatic.”

Caleb looked towards the stairs, past Astrid. “It was more complicated than that, but… here we are.” They had wasted enough time. “Let’s do this.”

The others were already assembled in Nico’s room, Caduceus carefully portioning out the correct amount of diamond dust. Essek was posted up in the corner by the door, while Beau and Yasha filled the space closer to the bed. Caleb positioned himself on the other side of the door from Essek. Wulf moved in to fill a gap near Beauregard, and Astrid moved closer to Caduceus. Nico knew her best, as far as Caleb could tell. It was a good spot to be.

Caduceus looked to Caleb. “Anything we should be prepared for?”

“Hard to say,” Caleb replied, reluctantly digging into his fragmented memories of his time like this. “He will be disoriented. Likely afraid. Have we taken all his spell components?”

“Everything we could find,” Beauregard replied. He did not like the uncertainty in her tone.

“Those of us who can counterspell should prepare,” said Caleb. “Just in case. Muscle, be ready to grab him. He might not…” He sighed. “My situation was different. I knew where I was. I knew I was in danger. He may be more confused than I was.” Caleb had been confused and disoriented, but the fear of recognising that he was in a room at the sanatorium had overridden all of that. Adrenaline had pushed him towards survival. He had no idea how Nico would react. But in an unfamiliar place, with mostly unfamiliar people, realising the memories that drove him to murder his parents were false?

It was going to be ugly.

“One moment,” said Essek. He pulled out a pearl and pressed it to Caleb’s forehead, casting Fortune’s Favour. He did the same for everyone except Caduceus and himself. He could, in theory, have cast it using a higher level slot to catch more people at once and save his pearls, but it would come at the cost of losing more powerful spells he may need later. Caleb had a stash of pearls in his study, and was already plotting to make Essek accept them. Then Essek situated himself at the door once again.

“Do you have Counterspell?” Caleb asked him, having never seen Essek cast it.

“I picked it up recently.”

“Good.” Caleb took a deep breath. “Ready, Caduceus?”

“Ready.” Caduceus began to cast, reaching out to touch Nico’s forehead. He closed his eyes, brow furrowed, and Caleb was concerned what effect this may have on him. Then there was a bright light and the diamond dust vanished from his hand. Caduceus pulled back.

All eyes on Nico. The boy squeezed his eyes shut, groaning. Then he sat up, eyes darting around the room, pausing on Astrid for a second, and Wulf. And then a gasp. His hands were moving.

Caleb counterspelled. It didn’t take. He burned his mote. It didn’t take. There was a split second where his mind slowed time and he watched every other caster try to unravel Nico’s spell. And fail.

A huge roar. A burst of light and heat. Caleb’s head cracked against something solid and his vision went dark.

Then hands were on him, and he was awake. Caduceus pulled him to his feet, and rushed over to Essek, who was curled up in pain but conscious, casting Ray of Frost at flames licking the walls.

The others had already made it to their feet. Nico was nowhere to be found.

Astrid shook her head like a dog shaking off water. “We need to move.”

“We’ll stay here and handle the fire,” Caduceus said, helping Essek to his feet.

The rest of them were out the door in seconds, Beau and Yasha in the lead because they were fast as fuck. They spilled out into the street.

“Bren,” said Astrid, “thoughts?”

“Check all routes out of the city. I’ll message the Cobalt Soul. You message any Volstrucker who may help.”

“We’ll link up with the monks,” said Beauregard, grabbing Yasha’s hand and rushing south towards the Court of Colours.

Caleb had an idea. “Wulf, would you like to be a giant eagle?”

“Do it.”

Caleb grabbed his cocoon and cast. Wulf’s form shifted into a huge eagle, and he took to the air, almost buffeting Caleb off his feet.

Astrid tugged Caleb northward. “I suspect he knows the northern areas better.”

“Right.” Caleb pulled out his copper wire. “High Curator, Nicolaus has been restored, but he fled. Beauregard is on her way to ask your aid.”

“We will mobilise the monks. Thank you for the warning.”

Astrid had shot a quick message to one of the Volstrucker. Caleb spotted a Crownsguard on the nearest street corner.

“Excuse me!”

The guard took them in, taking special note of Astrid. “Uh, yes? How can I help?”

“Have you seen a young man with dark hair, no coat or shoes, come through this area?”

“I don’t believe so, no.”

“If you do,” said Astrid, “do not engage.”

“Is he a threat, Archmage?”

“He is a frightened young man,” said Caleb. “He is not a threat if he is not threatened.”

“Get the word out,” said Astrid. “If I hear he has been harmed, there will be consequences.”

Caleb pointed to the giant eagle overhead. “Oh, and he’s with us.”

Then Caleb and Astrid ran further north, towards the market. Caleb was already doubting himself; maybe looping in the Crownsguard had been a mistake. And Caleb had used his one concentration spell to turn Wulf into an eagle, so there was precious little he could do magically from here.

“Caleb,” came Essek’s voice. “Caduceus communed with his god. The boy has a spellcasting focus. He is moving north. That is all we know. Good luck.”

“Thank you. Stay safe.” Caleb looked to Astrid. “Nico has a spellcasting focus and is moving north.” He then passed the information to Beauregard with another Sending. And one to Wulf; he recalled somewhat understanding Common while in giant eagle form himself. Astrid Sent to her Volstrucker contact.

“The Volstrucker are mobilising to reach the gates,” she told him.

“What are Nico’s favourite spells?” Without his spellbook, the boy would be limited in his casting. “Aside from Fireball.”

“Mostly Evocation spells,” said Astrid. They were reaching a crowd at the market, which was going to be a problem. She grabbed Caleb’s hand, pulling him along, both their heads on a swivel. “He’s a firebug like you.”

“Any illusions we should worry about?”

“Disguise Self, most likely. I don’t know if he had it prepared.”

“I guess we will have to watch for body language as well.” This was a fucking mess. All this preparation, and they’d managed to lose the boy anyway. If he had managed to disguise himself, it would have been a simple task to move through the market unnoticed.

“Caduceus is attempting to scry,” said Essek. “I will update you.”

“Danke schön. We are in the market. Volstrucker are moving ahead. He may have disguised himself.”

The market was just walls of sound and people and distraction everywhere. If Nico were were, they weren’t going to find him. So they pushed ahead onto the other side, catching their breath.

“I’m starting to think this is a fool’s errand,” Astrid muttered, pressing a palm to her ribs.

“Are you hurt?”

“No more than you.”

There wasn’t time to argue the matter. “Do you have Invisibility prepared today? Or Fly? I have to keep Wulf in the air.”

“I have Trent’s boots today. I can turn you invisible, or help you Fly.”

“Flight may be best. We do not want to lose track of each other.”

Astrid cast the spell and activated her boots, sending them both into the air. They soared to the nearest rooftop and landed, watching the market with a better vantage point.

“We should move ahead,” said Caleb. “If he’s still here, we won’t see him in the market.” They flew further north, dimly aware that children were pointing at them. So much for keeping this quiet; Ludinus would no doubt hear about this. And be a pain in the ass.

They paused on another rooftop; the northeastern gates were visible from here. Caleb’s heart sank further with each passing second.

“The scry went through but he cannot see much. The boy is disguised; a half-elf girl with red hair and freckles. Dressed as a barmaid.” Essek cast the spell again. “Not much detail around him. There are stones, but also dirt. He’s running now.”

“He may be outside the city. Thank you.” Caleb pushed off the roof, trusting Astrid to follow. He Sent to Beauregard. “Caduceus scried. Nico’s disguised as a red-haired half-elf barmaid. I think he’s outside the city. He’s running.”

Beauregard’s response began with a drawn-grown. “Motherfucker. We’ll head out the southeast gate and curve north.”

Astrid had also Sent to her Volstrucker contact. They flew for as long as the spell lasted, touching down close to the city gates. The Righteous Brand soldiers guarding the gate watched them curiously as they ran past, but made no move to stop them. Astrid’s authority was saving them a lot of grief today.

They searched the road, the fields. But it became more and more evident that Nico had evaded them. Eadwulf touched down beside them as the spell ended and he was human again. Caleb leaned against a fencepost, willing himself not to crack.

“We should regroup,” said Astrid. “Your place, Bren?”

He nodded. Took a deep breath. Started walking. He Sent one last message to Beauregard. She and Yasha linked up with them near the gate. They walked back to the house together.

****

Caleb was used to feeling like a failure. But this one hurt more than most. The group sat in Beau and Yasha’s living room, drinking tea Caduceus had made.

“Caleb, you’ve got the most experience here,” said Beauregard. “What’s the kid thinking?”

The answer was simple. “Get out.”

“Where would you have gone?”

“The nearest woods,” said Caleb. “For me, that was the Pearlbow Wilderness. He may try to head there. Lots of cover, places to hide, few people.”

“I can scry on him again,” said Caduceus.

“Go ahead.”

Caduceus set his teacup aside and closed his eyes, concentrating. It would take a few minutes.

“I will have the Volstrucker search the area,” said Astrid. “If the scry works, we will have an easier time.”

“I’ll see if we can spare a few monks to back you up,” replied Beauregard.

“He won’t go near Vergesson,” said Wulf.

“No,” Caleb agreed. The thought of the boy coming anywhere near that place made him physically ill. “He will lay low for a bit, and then probably go looking for a small town on the edge of civilization. Somewhere no one would expect to find a wizard. He has fire for warmth, evidently, but food and water will be an issue.”

“Think he could survive in the woods?” asked Beauregard.

“Probably.” Caleb had.

“We’ll find him,” Essek said quietly. He was not a man given to empty platitudes.

“I hope so.”

The energy in the room was almost depleted. The group sat there, deflated, while Caduceus worked through his ritual. At the point, by Caleb’s count, that the spell should have connected, Caduceus jolted and opened his eyes. He shook his head.

“He resisted. I can try again tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Caleb hadn’t meant to speak. It was… this hurt. A lot.

Caduceus scanned the group. “Who needs healing?”

Everyone, really. Astrid and Wulf grudgingly accepted the assistance, and were unable to hide how much they visibly relaxed in relief.

“Bren, meet me in my office,” said Astrid. “I will mobilise the Volstrucker in the meantime.”

“I’ll talk to the monks,” said Beauregard.

****

Caleb took a few minutes to himself before walking to the Academy. Just a moment to sit in his study, count and sort the various inkwells he now owned, and breathe. The others let him have that time.

Then, he headed out with a purpose. Astrid was already settled behind her desk when he arrived.

“The Volstrucker are organising for a search pattern,” she said, waving at him to sit at a seat in front of the desk. She had switched to Zemnian the instant they were alone. “It’s out of our hands at this point. We have another matter to discuss.”

“Felix.” Caleb sighed, and almost felt like was going to collapse the floor with the force of it. At least the chair caught him. “He needs to go home. And we need to tell him the whole story of what happened with Nico. I can teach him Sending. If Felix is up to it, a familiar voice might help.”

“I agree,” said Astrid. “We also have to explain the situation to Felix’s parents. That will be challenging.”

Caleb tried to imagine how his own parents would have reacted if they had learned their own son was ordered to kill them, and intended to do it. He was not strong enough to follow through on that thought experiment. Not today. Maybe not ever.

“We need to put him back in school when he’s ready,” Caleb said. “He will stew in this if we let him.”

“If you would like to convince his parents, be my guest.”

“That may be a conversation for another day. How much does Felix know about what happened with Nico?”

“That Nico followed through on the order, but we are taking care of him.”

“And now we have to tell him we fucked up. Again.”

Astrid laced her fingers together and rested her chin on them. “No. We prepared best we could. He was searched as much as your friends could without invading his privacy. We were ready with counterspells. But fear is a powerful motivator. You know that.”

Caleb had rolled out of bed and overpowered one of Ikithon’s guards. An important one, given he had an amulet. And, of course, Essek had once dragged him from under a tower with his bare hands. People could stretch themselves past their usual limits if under enough duress. Trent had operated under that philosophy.

“Bren,” Astrid said, quiet but firm. “I know this is a lot, but I need you to hold it together.”

Caleb breathed, and steadied himself. “I can do that.”

“I know.” She reclined in her seat, casting around her copper wire. “Felix, do you mind if Bren and I pay you a visit? We have news.” She listened. “All right. Let’s go.”

They walked the familiar path to the dormitories. Caleb had been so proud to walk these halls once. Maybe he could be again, but it would never be the same.

They found Felix in his temporary room, seated at a wooden desk with his spellbook, glaring at the pages. He tore his eyes away as they entered, slamming it shut.

“How’s Nico?”

Astrid looked at Caleb for three seconds. “Felix, do you remember what Trent told you about Bren?”

“He said a lot of things,” Felix said warily.

“Nicolaus and I had similar responses to following Trent’s orders,” said Caleb. “We took him to my house to keep him away from the Assembly and let him rest overnight. This morning, my friend Caduceus restored him.”

“He fled, despite our best efforts,” said Astrid. “We have people out searching for him.”

Felix still had his hand on his textbook, slowly sliding downward as his grip slackened. “I don’t understand. What happened?”

“When Nicolaus killed his parents, he had a… break.” Caleb was not good at explaining this. “He was awake, but unresponsive. Caduceus had a spell to pull him out of it, but coming back from that is disorienting. Despite the steps we took to prepare, he hit us with a fireball and escaped while we recovered.” Gods, Nico was probably injured, and without a healer.

Felix burst from seat. “And? Did you go after him?”

“Yes, of course,” said Astrid. “We searched from the ground and the air. And we have leads, and people are still following them. I have mobilised the Volstrucker and Bren’s expositor friend has mobilised the Cobalt Soul. We are not easy people to find when we do not want to be found, but we will keep searching. Bren had an idea, if you would like to help.”

Felix looked at her like she had slapped him. “Of course I want to help!”

Caleb paid his agitation no mind. “We floated the idea of teaching you the Sending spell yesterday. We did not have time then, but we have it now. Then, you can talk to him.”

“Okay. Teach me.”

“Here? Or would you rather we bring you home first?”

Felix laughed, and it was more unhinged than Caleb would have liked. “Yeah, okay, take me back to the people I almost fucking murdered.”

Astrid crossed her arms, gazing sternly up at him. “Felix.”

“It’s all right, Astrid,” said Caleb. “This will take a few hours. Let’s make use of those Academy resources, ja?” Most dormitory rooms had a supply of paper and ink, enough to transcribe a few spells at a time. He found a stash in the desk and sat on the floor, laying it all out in front of him. He beckoned to Felix. “Shall we?”

Felix scrubbed at his eyes and sat down with Caleb, slamming his spellbook onto the wooden boards. Astrid retreated, with some excuse about keeping an eye out for the Martinet, and a promise she would get the kitchen staff to send them a snack.

Caleb had lost a lot of his confidence around people a long time ago, but he knew pain when he saw it. He knew a little something about pain.

And a little something about hurt wizards looking desperately for a distraction by throwing themselves into study.

#caleb widogast #professor widogast #shadowgast #astrid beck #eadwulf grieve #critical role #cr2 #fanfiction #my fics #the pomegranate's professor widogast fic

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hetalia-has-a-secretary · 3 years

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How they met, honeymoon stage, couple crisis, break relationship and reconciliation of the couple. With your favorite character! Come on, GO GO GO

M-my favorite character? (✿^J^)(ʘᴗʘ✿) gonna hit the self indulgent ask before bed lol. TIME TO DUMP SOME SELF INSERT YAHOO!

Trigger warning: Mentions of blood and violence! (Be honest a relationship with Russia will be the most difficult for many reasons, but there is a sunny horizon I swear!)

Russia and the World Meeting's Secretary Headcannons!

How they met:

Cute if you thought it was all rainbows and happy sunshine.

The secretary was immediately interested in Russia, but it was mostly because of her hopeless romance tendencies and he kept just... Staring at her the first few days of her new job.

They only interacted when England and France got into a heated argument about something, something, "You're cooking's more Terrifying than Russia is on a good day"

Mistakes were made and unbeknownst to the Secretary, Russia is quite the intimidating man.

She was only able to gather that by how silent the room got, either way it was part of her contract with Germany to break up any fights that would prevent meetings from running smoothly.

Stepping between the shivering men, and Russia everyone immediately became more concerned, and kicking themselves for not warning her beforehand.

Russia wasn't even bothered by it, he just simply redirected his aura to the new secretary who he gave zero cares about, and was fully expecting them to run away crying, which honestly pleased him since she had the guts to intervene.

"Hm? And what's this? Is the little one going to try and protect those two from me break in the faces, da?"

She felt her nerves on edge, but with a quick breath her hands were on her hips and she shot back at him-

"Don't give me any of that crap. If you're trying to scare me, go find out how to do that from my Ex Step Father..."

Physical gasps were heard, and the tension in the room climbed until Russia seemingly calmed down- "Da, I will sit down then..."

Their other interaction was just as unpleasant a few days later.

Russia pretty much told her that he doesn't care how strong she thinks she is, that no matter how many secretaries Germany hired, he won't step over any lines so long she doesn't.

He was taken aback by her calm demeanor and that she ignored his threat.

"Look- I'm sorry if I upset you, that wasn't my intention. It's literally in my job description. But If you do that again, I'll have to step in again. It's not you, and it's not me. It's the money..."

Then that same day Russia had seen her waiting outside for her ride, and he had a taxi back to his hotel that he was also waiting for, and decided to stand with her.

She straight up asked him if he was willing to try and start over and go to her place for dinner. All while mentally yelling at herself how insane that sounded.

He denied her, and didn't explain why until his taxi arrived. It was due to his plane taking off soon.

He found her place anyway that night deciding to accept her offer since his hotel was closed and booked for someone else the same time his flight was cancelled until next week.

The Honeymoon Phase:

Literally doesn't exist.

Between Russia's problem with communication, and the secretaries lack of her own people skills it was a hot mess for a year or two.

On the outside they seemed extremely happy, even their public behaviors changed. Russia became less violent (give or take the fact the secretary sometimes eggs Russia on to creep the others out when they deserve it or take a joke to far) and the secretary herself seemed to become more positive and out going!

But behind closed doors there is a lot of unsure emotions, and a few... Incidents.

It wasn't exactly sunshine and rainbows. There was no Honeymoon Phase were they did nothing but kiss, and cuddle.

They were working on boundaries and communication skills from the very start.

They both agreed to keep their relationship under wraps as they worked on becoming close friends first.

Couple crisis(es):

Oh boy! Both Russia and the secretary have had troubling past and neither of which were ever dealt with properly!

There was one time the secretary was trying to figure out how to go about her more, sexual feelings towards Russia since she has moral codes, but after discovering a country can't legally Marry a human (to Russia's knowledge) she was avoiding him on a field trip the allies took to the zoo, for funsies and moral boost!

This enviably turned into him thinking she didn't care anymore and left early to his hotel room. She followed him there.

Upon arrival he tried to act like he wasn't hurt, since she seemingly wanted to explain and that's when things escalated.

He got mad that she was having a rough time telling him what was happening other than "Things have come up and I can't say why but I just needed time to think". After a little bit of back and forth he had enough and tried to ask her to leave.

Especially because now he felt not only betrayed, but lied to. Bad combo.

In return she panicked thinking it was the last time she'd see him again and begged him to let her stay, and they could sleep on the subject, but push came to shove.

He had her up against a chair, hands around her neck and assaulting her with questions of why she was lying, and why she was truly avoiding him.

Then she went silent. Tears formed from her eyes, and as soon as he let her go she ran from him, running into England where he forced her to go to the hospital for the bruising on her neck.

Happy she was able to convince England to not tell anyone, and to trust her, she was now hellbent even more now on talking to Russia.

He wanted to never see her again, but completely forgot about the meeting that took place the next day. His heart sinking as she wore a scarf around her neck, and the glare that England gave him as he walked in with her told Russia he knew as well.

Ironically he also joined her for lunch out of habit. Where she finally was able to tell her that when he had his hands round her neck she didn't see him. She saw her once to be father.

That didn't exactly sit well with Russia either, not until she told him that what had happened was the evidence that neither of them were ready for that kind of relationship, and the person who choked her, didn't feel like him.

She also finally admitted to not knowing how to deal with her desires and was going through a bought of confusion, and apologized for being cowardly over it.

For the next month when Russia went back to his country they hardly talked. It felt like they hit a hard reset on their relationship

Breaking point in the relationship:

There wasn't ever a point in time that they weren't together, just a handful of violent incidents that lead to them To not talking, or hardly talking.

There was three of them. The second one Russia had a relapse with his emotions, and had a meltdown in his home while the secretary was visiting him.

She heard him in his room and was going to ask if he wanted breakfast at home or wanted to go out.

She caught him feverishly clawing at some scars on his neck, blood seeping out, and covering his clothes and sink.

He allowed himself to only be so vulnerable with her, and this wasn't something he ever planned on showing her. In the past he even lied to her and said his scaring flares up and tears due to him being a country (like england when he gets sick around certain American holidays).

He panicked hard as she tried her best to stay calm and help him clean up. Though he appeared willing, he was really just frozen in fear and anxiety. As she started up a tub for him, she offered to clean his wound and he snapped.

He had her by the wrists begging her not to leave, and not to tell anyone, obviously out of it completely.

She tried not to breakdown as well, knowing his outburst would calm down if she just listened. And it almost worked. He had released her and she went to reach out for something past him, and he took it as her trying to escape, so he pulled her, and shoved her to the door to which she fell.

Something in him gave away and he started telling her to just leave and never come back, only when the tub that had over flowed had he realized how he was reacting.

Fully breaking down he cried at the edge of the tub, water now shut off.

She crawled over to him, leaning against the side of the bath, and waited for his sobs to slow down, not caring that her own clothes had soaked up some of the water on the floor.

Once he calmed down, she started to laugh, and when he finally looked at her she explained how much of a a mess they both were. And how insane she must look.

Russia saw the condition her wrists were in after he grabbed her and straight up said he doesn't care if she stays away or even leaves, she needed to get her wrists looked at.

So she called Estonia, behind his back.

Reconciliation:

This would have been the end of the relationship if it wasn't for some eavesdropping from Russia as Estonia checked out her wrists.

Estonia was aware of Russia's agressive nature, but was surprised he had still harmed her, even by accident.

The secretary could do nothing but defend him, and Estonia pointed out that she was being just as toxic as he was by not being honest about what was really going on between them.

She starts to open up about her fear of losing him. How strong her will to stay with him was, and how willing she was to get hurt every once and a while.

She also shared that he wasn't always like that, and the fact he never intended to hurt her, and she could tell he was just out of control, quite literally, was all she needed to stay.

Russia was on the other side of the wall, listening. His heart sinking as he realized the damage he has caused, and the fact she'd be willing to put up with it made him feel better until Estonia pointed out the biggest flaw in their relationship.

She was human. If she was a country she would have been better off, but if he by chance, even by accident, shook her too hard one day... She won't make it long enough to be with him.

That's something that shook them both to the core, and after she forced Estonia to secrecy and he left, Russia came out from his hiding spot.

He looked at her, and she tried her best to keep eye contact, but couldn't.

He sat next to her, all four walls coming down. Now he's cried over his past, and she's consoled him over it rather easily, but that night she couldn't find the strength to, and just let him weep.

It was painful for her to watch as he raised his hand time and time again to try and touch her in some way, asking for silent forgiveness, but she gave him nothing.

Then he said something that surprised her, and even made her give him a double take.

"I- help me..."

She blinked at him, her senses coming back and she clung to him. She was ready to forgive him, but knew full well that if the next step they took he didn't take seriously, she had no choice but to leave.

Estonia had mentioned couples therapy, and Though Russia was extremely skeptical he agreed.

They had to switch therapist at some point because the first one kept pushing the secretary to leave him, not even giving him a chance to recover from his violent tendencies.

It was a fight that took place in the main lobby, where Russia sat. Tears had filled her eyes and he was about to interrupt when he heard her argue her point.

"He's more than capable! That's what pisses me off is people like you who never get to see him when he's at his highest. It was one or two mistakes, but he's just learning!"

Seeing her fight for him unprompted unlike other times before lite a fire in him. Where she wanted to quite the counselor, he egged her back into the idea, and much to their Surprise, after about three months, they were already cleared for the counseling sessions. Even the therapist expressed his surprise in their quick recovery, and commitment.

There hasn't been any further accidents since then, and Russia has learned to at the very least ask for space when he has an urge he needs to shake off, and she has learned how to word things in a way he can anwser without getting overwhelmed, or leaving him to cool down.

I want to share moooreeee but this was so much already! For those who made it this far, thank you for my Ted talk X.X I'm going to pass out now cause sleep, goodnight ♥️

#hetalia #hws russia #hetalia russia #aph russia #hetalia world stars #hws #aph

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