#if he starts throwing up again then we know its the kidney food | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sooibian · 4 years

Text

Flambé - I

poster and edits/collage credits to @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt !

chapter two | moodboard by the lovely @pororodks

🍜 pairing: kyungsoo x fem!reader ft. baekhyun, mark lee

🍜 description: pull up a chair. take a taste. come join us. life is so endlessly delicious. - ruth reichl

🍜 themes: fluff, crack (ish), slight angst, a lil bit of spice (in the future), rivals to lovers au

🍜 word count: ~ 9.7k

🍜 a/n: writing this makes me feel lonely and hungry and that, my friends, is a deadly concoction of emotions so while i wallow in my misery, i dearly hope you’ll enjoy this creation. i'd love to hear from you <3<br>

🍜 reference notes: yt channels: maangchi, one meal a day, bore.d; netflix shows: midnight diner, street food: asia, chef’s table

🍜 tag list: @changshapatrol @j-pping @kyungseokie @exosmuttytalk @his-mochi-cheeks @littleflowercrown13 pls lmk if you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list!

Water bobs in frenetic bubbles in a massive ancient stone pot perched atop a fort of raging wood. Amidst brutal peals of thunder, a gushing stream rises from a nearby hill, obscuring the shrill cries of the sacrificial crab.

Chanting a spell, you lift the enormous crustacean by its pincers and lower it into the growling, pitch black utensil. Blubbering helplessly, it lodges its claws at the rim of the pot in desperation, seeking escape. The sound of your maniacal laughter reverberates through the cave as you thrust it back into the violent undulation with a heavy-handed flick of the bladed-spatula.

All of a sudden, you’re swept over with a wave of unconsciousness, your skin tingles, and boiling water begins to fill up your lungs.

You are alone at the bottom of the very same utensil.

“Help!” frantic, you stagger up, gasping for air. But the bladed-spatula wielding crab, now untied and hovering over you, roars jubilantly at your defenseless form.

Maybe the spell didn’t land, you think.

“Please, Chef!” you whimper as a last ditch attempt.

In one swift motion, it swooshes down to your eye level.

Bushy black brows sprout on its forehead, just a little over a pair of big brown circles for eyes. Then comes the nose, followed by a bloody red mouth that snarls at you.

zzzz…

“Late again?”

zzzz…

4:00 a.m., your phone blinks.

In a sleep befuddled state, you reach out for the wailing device. ‘Late again?’ Chef’s cold, deep voice sounds in your consciousness as you wipe the droplets of sweat off of your forehead.

Chef.

Doh Kyungsoo had insisted on the title and you’d boldly refused to call him that. What business does a man working at a Kalguksu stand in Gwangjang Market have, being called Chef. You’d seeked redressal with the higher ups. The owner.

Your aunt.

“Aegiya, he has something that you don’t.”

“A dick?”

“YAH! A degree in culinary arts.”

“Imo, haven’t you watched Parasite? Anyone can forge documents these days and if so then why is he here? He could very well land a job at Four Seasons like Hyunjin. Think, Imo. Think!”

“Exactly! With forged documents, he could be anywhere. But he’s here, no?”

“Maybe you’re just easier to manipulate.”

Finally, she said in her no-nonsense, stern voice. "Chef. You’re calling him Chef.”

Every time the egotistical madman opens that darned mouth of his, it makes you want to knock him down with a roundhouse and beat the living daylights out of him.

But, counting to five, you always resist the temptation.

Because one day, one glorious day, you’d take over your aunt’s business and the very first item on your agenda would be….well, the obvious. With a glimmer of hope, you flounder out of your comforter, muttering every cuss word you’d learnt…and crafted in the course of working with the devil himself.

“Ah 3000 is a bit too much for cucumbers", he says to the middle aged vendor, flashing a boyish grin.

The face of sourcing has drastically changed in the last six months since Kyungsoo’s arrival. Prior to his dictatorship, Imo had tie-ups with vendors who’d hand deliver the produce every single day, without fail. Guess Kyungsoo didn’t fully comprehend the benefits of customer loyalty. ‘There could be better quality ingredients out there, Sajangnim…economically priced, I might add’, he’d convinced your aunt using his military corporal voice. No matter if it meant awkward break-ups with the vegetables ahjumma or the prawns ahjussi: you were left to do the dirty work.

And required to tag along for the routine 5 a.m sourcing runs. Every morning, he’d greet you with an accusatory ‘you killed my cat’ expression.

Groaning, you shift your weight from side to side. If only he’d quit flirting with every woman in the market and hurry up! The purchases have long exceeded the capacity of your humble cart. Flailing your numb arms awake, you urge him to speed up with a nudge of the knee but he glares at you like you’d asked him for a kidney.

Kyungsoo has a tendency to overbuy but never does he help with a single bag. ‘I don’t like to sweat’ is his excuse. Which is pretty ridiculous considering he spends over ten hours a day overseeing a scorching frying pan at the stall.

But you know better than to argue.

Because as much as you loathe every fibre of his existence, he terrifies you a little. The man possesses the duality of a psychopath. As fierce as he is in the Market, ruthlessly competitive even, he’s quite the sweet talker. Incredibly charming. And you can bet your life on the fact that every ahjumma - whether or not a rival - would take a bullet for him.

“Ahdeul-ah”, the woman coos at him, making your insides violently contort, “you know how tight the market is these days. But I’ll throw in some more only for you.”

The additional weight of three kilos on your right arm ends your sourcing run for the day.

***

“Chef”, huffing, you say to him on your way out, “I had a late night last night.”

“And I need to be privy to this little nugget of unwarranted information because?” He paces ahead of you at his usual lightning speed.

“No, I meant, could we stop”, panting you continue, “could we stop for a quick cup of coffee.”

Halting abruptly, he turns around to look you square in the eyes, “No.”

“Asshole!” You murmur under your breath.

“I heard that.”

Monday at Choi Yoonsun’s Kalguksu stall was busier than usual.

It went by in a daze amidst the cacophony of a sizzling girdle, clanging of pots and pans and Imo’s relentless vocalization inviting guests to the stall. Having served thousands of bowls of Kalguksu and Kimchi Mandu, you rely heavily on muscle memory to get you through a workday’s demands.

Despite its massive chaos and commotion, you quite enjoyed working in the Market.

Not being particularly skilled at much and having nearly flunked out of high school, cooking was the one thing that defined you. It was your safe harbour. You’d lost your father in an accident at the tender age of ten and your mother was forced to work long hours to put food on the table. So you honed your culinary skills, little by little, because you thought it vital for your own well-being as well as your mother’s.

One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.

At the end of yet another rewarding day, you leave a wet towel soaking in vinegar for Kyungsoo to clean the iron girdle and proceed to tend to the dirty dishes yourself.

“Yahh!” Imo calls out for Kyungsoo and you, thumping her hand on the table, gesturing for you to join her.

“Ahh! Imo, there’s a huge pile of dirty dishes!” You cry out in response, only to turn around to find that ass-kisser already at the table, schmoozing with your aunt. Hastily taking off your grubby apron, you wash your hands and wipe them clean with a rag cloth. Straightening your black shirt, flattening unruly flyaways, you rush toward the table but she’s already up and ready to leave, “We’ll have dinner together tonight. I want to have a word with both of you.”

“But -”

“Sajangnim”, Kyungsoo interrupts, wagging a finger in your direction, face scrunched up in mock concern, “this one’s had a late night last night -”

“Chef! So I guess I’ll be seeing you tonight. As if seeing you every day of every week wasn’t enough already!”

An overtly saccharine smile spreads across your face and his jaw hardens in response.

“Aish….you two…I’m leaving now”, shaking her head, she sighs, “see you both in two hours.”

Kimchi jjigae, Pajeon, Tteokbokki, Jajangmyeon, some leftover Bibimbap with sides galore from Hong Lim Banchan Stall. Imo clearly has something important on her mind.

But the vibe at the dinner table just doesn’t sit right with you.

The reason for that could be the bespectacled black hole of negativity that’s seated besides you in all black clothing but there’s something off about Imo.

She’s being a little too nice.

Fear gradually starts to settle in your bones. Is she finally closing down? Is this delectable fare an attempt at softening the blow? After all, she’d settled her husband’s debts over five years ago and her sons were doing well for themselves. Quite well, in fact. The elder one, Hyunwoo, is an investment banker and the younger one Hyunjin went to culinary school and is working as a chef at Four Seasons’ Chinese restaurant. It only makes sense for her to trade the Market’s gruelling ways for some much deserved peace and quiet.

“We’re closing down the stall”, she says coolly.

It’s like a punch in the gut.

“Imo -”

“Aegiya”, she rests her chin on her hand, face clouded over with serenity, “the Market’s given me everything. It’s given me a sense of independence…a sense of pride. It put my family back together. I used to think that I’m nothing without my husband and my sons…but the Market gave me an identity. I continued to work even after my husband’s passing not because I needed the money but because this is something that I’ve created and I’m mighty proud of what’s become of it today. My name is a brand in itself. And a decade ago I couldn’t have imagined this even in the wildest of my dreams.”

A million scenarios cascading through your head drown out Imo’s voice.

Would you now have to go back to Bucheon? Or invest in a stall of your own at the traditional Gwangjang that would never accept your big and bold ways with cooking? And to start from scratch? With a new recipe? Kalguksu with a twist, perhaps? But you had no insight into your aunt’s special broth. She’d never let you or even Kyungsoo for that matter whip up the hand-cut noodles. The two of you only ever helped with the ancillary tasks.

You soon come to the realization of not being the only one caught in the eye of the storm. Kyungsoo’s unwavering gaze is scarily fixated on the bowl of jajangmyeon before him. His miserable state gives you a fleeting sense of relief and it’s in that exact moment that he chooses to say something unpalatable.

“Sajangnim, you’ve worked too hard. It’s time for you to reap the fruits of your labour. We’ll be fine, you don’t have to worry about us.”

Of course he’ll be fine.

Nearly all food stall owners in Gwangjang have been vying for him ever since the day he set foot into Choi Yoonsun’s with his phlegmatic personality. Whereas you had nowhere to go. The world conveniently assumes Imo hired you only because you were her poor sister’s daughter who she sought to help financially. Not because you had what it took to be there and survive.

“Did I say I was ready to retire?” She laughs, eyeing Kyungsoo quizzically.

“Here’s the thing..I met up with a friend last month. She was looking for a buyer for her little family run restaurant in Gangnam. So I took out a loan, made her an offer”, balling her hands into fists she sighs, “put in the deposit…and the place is pretty much mine now!”

“IMO”, you yell, “you didn’t have to scare me with that long winded speech! God, you’re so dramatic!”

“Well, it is a big move. I’m not sure either of you are ready to take the leap. It requires a tonne of work and I may not be able to pay half of what you earned at the Market for at least two months until we open. It’ll take the restaurant two years or so to break even and only then will I be able to afford scaling your salaries. On the other hand, what I can do is, help you secure a job at the banchan stall since you love seasoned spinach so much and Kyungsoo even stands a chance at managing one of the Pakgane stalls!”

Pakgane is the mung bean pancake stall that had gotten so popular that the owner managed to branch out of Gwangjang. So even your beloved Imo believes that you’d make for a better “help” and Kyungsoo, a Manager.

Ugh!

“I’m coming with you”, you say firmly, “I’ve saved up a little and Eomma will gladly pitch in, if need be…”

At this point, you’d expected Kyungsoo to be ready with his luggage considering the little sycophant he is but his expression is stoic, eyes still glued to the jajangmyeon bowl, filling you with insane hope.

He was going to jump ship…finally!

“Chef…”, you couldn’t resist, “you don’t have to worry about us…I’m more than enough for Imo. You may…”

He shoots you an angry glare making you chew on your unsaid words. But wanting to rile him just a little more, you excuse yourself and bring out a bottle of ketchup. Squeezing it generously atop the stack of pajeon, you snicker maliciously.

Ketchup.

The tangy, unassuming condiment is the sole reason Kyungsoo abhors your very existence. But as this dinner marks the end of his torturous regime, you celebrate with ketchup - lots of it - right in front of his nasty eyes.

Steam swirls in different directions and at every twenty metres a contrastive redolence tickles your olfactory senses. Experiencing Gwangjang as a guest is clearly a far richer experience compared to the donkeywork involved in life as a vendor.

A proper send-off is essential lest Kyungsoo decides to stay, even if it means creating a huge dent in your pocket. You plan on giving him a final tour of the Market where you could both say your goodbyes while receiving a premium fuel of vitamins, minerals and carbs.

Lots of carbs.

“Let’s start with Pakgane”, says Kyungsoo, with a skewered sausage in one hand.

Wanting to start with nothing less than the best in order to create a lasting impression, you shake your head in response. This was supposed to be a farewell he’d never forget.

With every step, the aroma of scallops drizzled with butter and cheese grows stronger. You start your tour by ordering two portions of the delectable street food which sets you back considerably but you’re far too elated to care, even refusing Kyungsoo’s offer to pay as the woman sets the scallops ablaze with a blow torch.

“Do you know what this technique is called?” Kyungsoo gives a little nod in the direction of the flaming food.

A teachable moment. How does his own personality not wear him off?

You’d made a firm resolve to not let any of his condescension bog you down so with a sweet smile, you reply, “No, Chef. I do not.”

“Flambé, minus the alcohol. Do you know how they manage that?”

The ahjumma calls out for you and you nearly jump to collect the order, the slight upward curl of his lips coming into your peripheral vision.

***

The Market supposedly looks the same as it did fifty years ago and you quite enjoy eating your way through it. The tour makes your heart grapple with nostalgia even though your partner’s vibe is akin to a mug of insipid coffee.

Although you’d spent only a little over a year at Choi Yoonsun’s, the goodbyes were long and hard. Some of the vendors squeeze you and Kyungsoo in heart wrenching hugs, the others give you a little cash to help you through the transition and for some of the food, you pay only with smiles and thank yous.

After a gastronomic fiesta entailing tteokbokki, pajeon (minus the ketchup - you did it Kyungsoo’s way), sashimi, kimbap, different types of banchan, a thousand more teachable moments, the both of you end the day on a sweet note with hotteok.

The ahjussi wishes you both luck, making you choke back tears.

Your moist eyes don’t escape Kyungsoo’s attention.

“Are you…. Is the hotteok spicy? No, I mean it’s obviously not…erm”

The dam of your tears explodes.

You were going to miss this place. Even the less appealing aspects of it. You were going to miss the kimbap unnie who greeted you with a hug everyday, also the snooty mandu ahjumma who could hardly stand the sight of Choi Yoonsun’s crew. You were going to miss washing dishes in the winters with water that was supposed to be ice and the sweltering summers that had you sweating through every layer of clothing.

Hell, you were even going to miss Kyungsoo.

“No”, you sniffle, “No, no Chef, it’s nothing. Take care of yourself. As much as I’m glad that our fateful working relationship has met its rightful end, I truly, genuinely, wish you luck. And learn to smile a little more, yeah?”

“Are you dying?” Eyes glinting, mouth agape, he chuckles.

“What? NO! What? You’re leaving. What is wrong with you?”

“Who says I’m leaving?”

“You! You’re not coming with us to Gangnam!”

“Says who?”

“Your stupid face that looked like it was hit by a freight train when Imo broke the news last week!”

“I’m not leaving?” He draws his words out in a question.

“This is no time to joke, Chef. You are leaving!”

“Says who!”

“Your stu-”

“Stupid face? I wasn’t planning on leaving at all. I’ve even found myself a place close to the restaurant. Oh yeah, sorry for having misled you. It was really just - my stupid face.”

A month from Grand Opening

It’s not just about food.

Food only makes for a fifth of a restaurant’s success equation. Management and promotional skills are essential because a restaurant is, first and foremost, a business.

Mark Lee, the young consultant from PCY Associates had imparted this crucial business knowledge to your compact team of three aspiring restaurateurs in exchange for an egg sandwich and watermelon juice. The enthu-cutlet has been overseeing the legal set-up of your humble restaurant for a month now.

However, according to Mark, the crème de la crème of the success equation is customer service.

Customer service.

Here’s where the crusty Chef was supposed to take a backseat and you - a real people person, a socially adept charmer - were to sashay in and shine.

These ideas were a bit too much for that thick, globular skull of his so you tried to educate him with a practical example.

He’d added a rule to the first draft of the menu - a shared document for brainstorming purposes. It read ‘No ketchup for you.’ This rule (or insolence as you called it) went against your belief system as the restaurant’s to-be-anointed Manager (a girl can always hope). ‘Never say no to a customer’ being the foundation of customer service, you slashed the rule with a strikethrough.

But the next time you tried to log in, you found yourself locked out of the document.

“Chef, why can’t I find the draft menu anymore?”

He’s aggressively julienning leeks, pretending to not have heard you.

“CHEF!”

“What?” Finally, he looks up. The skin between his eyebrows pinched and his arm raised to level his brand new 1-piece chef’s knife (initials etched into the blade) with his profile.

“Why-why did you lock me out of the draft menu?”, you stammer, gaze trained on the cutting edge glistening with tears of The Leeks.

Kyungsoo’s been visibly getting jittery by the day as opening day approaches.

He deliberately places the knife to the side of the board and you take a gutsy step forward. He uses a cold, serial-killer voice to ask, “What makes you think that I locked you out?”

You lean over from the other side of the granite counter, face barely an inch from his, “Who else could’ve? Imo is technologically challenged.”

“Fine”, he sighs, “I locked you out.” His lips curl up in a menacing smirk, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Grinning, you stare right into his dark eyes and let out a shrill, high-pitched scream, “IMO!”

This throws him back a few steps and he’s rubbing and pulling at his right ear when Imo walks into the kitchen.

“Yah! Am I your babysitter? Whatever it is, I don’t want to hear about it. I am asking you”, she looks at you before spinning her head in Kyungsoo’s direction, “and you, to sort this amongst yourselves. For once!”

“But-but Imo!”, you protest.

“Aegiya, I really don’t want to ship you back to Bucheon.”

***

“Here’s your tax ID, liquor license… okay so this was a touch-and-go because the officer is transferring to another Department and the one that’s supposed to be coming in is a real piece of work….”

Mark Lee is here with the final set of documents.

Imo’s eyes are gleaming with excitement and sheer joy but she’s held a businesswoman-like composure. On the other hand, Kyungsoo looks very much like himself - like someone’s sucked the life out of him.

You bring Mark his usual egg sandwich and watermelon juice because there’s only so much your restaurant can offer at this point in time, feeling brutally overwhelmed with the volume of pending tasks until opening.

After practically inhaling his mini-meal, Mark dabs his mouth clean and says, “My work here is done. If you need anything you know where to find me. And good luck. Trust me, you’ll need it.”

Imo looks worriedly at Kyungsoo and then at Mark and at Kyungsoo again which prompts him to ask rather uncomfortably, “What do you mean ‘you’ll need it’?”

Mark’s dramatically long sigh is an indication of a sermon to follow. As he leans back into his chair, Imo and Kyungsoo instinctively cower like an invisible weight has been plopped onto their shoulders. The sight is beyond pathetic: they are like peasants before a feudal lord. It makes you want to smash the know-it-all smirk off of Mark’s face.

What comes after, though, isn’t a sermon but a sentence and a half that leaves the three of you shaken.

“The dining business here in Gangnam is hyper-competitive and most restaurants fold in six months. And if that sandwich is any indication…”

Kyungsoo valiantly advances to rescue your team out of the dark bubble of Mark Lee’s words with, “What’s wrong with the sandwich? She makes a perfectly good sandwich!”

What was supposed to be a compliment somehow sounds very wrong in your head, but before you could give him the death stare he leaps to damage control, “What I mean is, we all ate the very same sandwich for breakfast. I don’t usually dissect food for novices but the egg was perfectly cooked, mayonnaise was just the right amount and the seasoning was balanced, too. So I’m not sure what you’re trying to say. We’re serving perfectly good food here.”

“The thing is, this is something even my mother could make and dude, believe me, she’s terri…her culinary abilities are highly questionable. Also, do you think your friend would’ve sold you this place if it were thriving, Mrs. Choi? She’d inherited it from her grandfather and she sold it to you at a dirt cheap price because she was neck deep in debt. I’m sure you know, real estate here is three and a half times the country’s average. So not only do you have significant funds locked into a possibly deadweight property but also your plan clearly lacks vision. Gwangjang’s Choi Yoonsun can keep you afloat for four…maybe six months but Gangnam’s Choi Yoonsun has to create an identity for herself. Look around you, everyone’s serving good food”, Mark tilts his head in Kyungsoo’s direction, “Here, people eat with their eyes first. Now, I’m not saying family-run restaurants serving traditional cuisines don’t do well. A lot of them have been passed down for generations. What I’m saying is…..find your USP.”

Mark squints, looks into the distance, and pinches the air a lot during this damp squib speech of his.

So the menu isn’t very different from what Choi Yoonsun served in Gwangjang. Her USP has always been homestyle cooking with a twist. But that was the demand of a Market that upheld traditionalism and Gangnam, being precipitously everchanging, would be quite something to keep up with.

The weight of Mark’s words manifests on Kyungsoo’s shoulders. He lets out a sharp exhale and starts to clear the table, giving him plenty non-verbal cues to leave. You rush to help him out and meet his defeated form (crouched over the sink) in the kitchen.

The shuffling sound of your footsteps reaches his ears and he pivots to face you.

“We’ll be okay”, your voice is but a calm whisper prompting his creased forehead to slowly smoothen.

“We’ll be okay”, he forcefully echoes.

Grand Opening Day

A frisson of fear laced with excitement descends your spine.

Choi Yoonsun’s is enveloped in a pin drop silence save for the sound of Kyungsoo’s pacing. It’s grating on your nerves but Kyungsoo pacing is far better than Kyungsoo “going over the plan” for the umpteenth time.

The kitchen’s prepped for battle so you’re seated at the cash counter, cuddled close with Imo, placated by her soothing, motherly presence. The three of you are like ticking time bombs, ready to go off at any minute.

This, right here, is the perfect example of a pinch-me-it-doesn’t-feel-real moment. You allow yourself to feel the forces at play as your eyes take in every nook and cranny of the restaurant. The place is agreeably well lit and the ventilation hoods aren’t an eyesore either. The decor’s minimalistic with a sand and stone colour scheme and the floor’s been scrubbed spotless. Eight sturdy wooden tables, tactically placed, allow for movement and privacy yet the area has been optimally utilized.

Fifteen minutes for the ‘Open’ sign to light up.

Kyungsoo and you proceed to help each other out with crisp bright yellow aprons affixed with red name tags (handpicked by Imo, the aprons made you both look like dumpy chicks) and clear plastic masks and wish each other luck with curt nods.

***

Imo’s sons are the first to arrive with some friends in tow. They are served with Kyungsoo’s Yachae Twigim and Budae Jjigae, your Gyeran-mari and Kimchi Bokkeum-bap and of course, Imo’s famous Kalguksu and Kimchi Mandu. Makes you wonder if they’ve had enough of it but they seem to be greatly enjoying themselves. Some of Hyunjin’s friends from Four Seasons are here too, their mighty presence driving Kyungsoo to the edge.

But a few compliments from them are enough to soothe his nerves.

Among the flurry of patrons through the day were vendors and stall owners from Gwangjang along with their family and friends, Kyungsoo’s acquaintances who you knew nothing about and neither did you care enough to ask, Mark Lee with his very handsome boss Park Chanyeol also dropped by sometime around noon.

Your mother couldn’t make it to the opening. It stung a little but as usual, you sucked it up and went on with the highly stimulating day that anyway left you with very little time to mull over any unpleasantness.

***

By the end of it, you were pretty sure you’d wake up with blistered feet the next morning.

It’d been a splendid opening with sales tallying up to KRW 2500,000: nearly two and a half times the estimate. Imo breaks into a dance at the figure, even Kyungsoo lips stretch into a reluctant grin.

You intensely wish Mark Lee were here to witness this euphoric win.

Six months later

Mark Lee had been right.

Choi Yoonsun was miles from creating an identity in Gangnam. Regulars from Gwangjang could make it to the restaurant only twice or thrice a week, support from acquaintances had been gradually trickling, and some negative reviews floating around the internet about poor table turnover had also been driving potential guests away.

You tried to mitigate this by hiring part timers at minimum wage but for several reasons, none of them managed to stay: anti-social hours and Kyungsoo’s hostility being two of the key causes.

On your best days, the sales would total up to KRW 1500,000 and the weekday numbers had been dismal.

***

“Dooly-dooly!”

Your eyes light up at the familiarity of that voice. Mirroring its excitement, you run into the arms of its owner.

“Baekhyunnie!”

Kyungsoo peers over his glasses while scrubbing the iron girdle, studying the floppy haired, cheerful man with a wide grin plastered across his face that’s pranced into the kitchen at closing time.

Byun Baekhyun has been your best friend since time immemorial. Growing up in Bucheon, he’d been the only family you’d known besides your parents and Imo’s family. You weren’t even as close with Hyunwon and Hyunjin as you were with Baekhyun. Since work always kept your mother busy, his parents had practically been the ones to raise you and not once did they make you feel like an outsider.

“Yah! Quit calling me Dooly we’re not kids anymore! Have you eaten? Let me whip you up something real quick. Look at youuuu, when did you get this skinny! How long are -”

“Not to interrupt, but you’ve left the water running”, Kyungsoo drones, lazily pointing in the direction of the sink.

You clearly remember turning it off before darting to greet Baekhyun.

‘Sonofa-’ exasperated, you mouth to Baekhyun, whose eyebrows have shot up to his hairline out of vicarious embarrassment, before turning around to face Kyungsoo who seems to be scrubbing the iron girdle to gold. “Chef, you’re closer to the sink.”

“Reiterating. You’ve left the water running. If you wanna go on tittle-tattling, by all means….this wastage is on you.”

“Make yourself comfortable”, too exhausted to pick a fight, you whisper to Baekhyun, gesturing towards the closest table, “I’ll be with you soon.”

***

“It’s bad”, Imo sighs, burying her face in her hands.

11 P.M., two hours past closing time.

The sparse lighting in the restaurant is causing you an eyestrain to look at the scribblings on the register. Your neck and shoulder muscles are tense from all the chopping, stirring, and scrubbing: a slow day does not translate to an easy day. You notice that Kyungsoo is growing weary, too.

Or maybe discouraged.

You communicate with each other in evasive glances as if the restaurant not doing well is, somehow, on the two of you.

“Imo”, Baekhyun speaks first so as to allay the looming dread, “I’ve been reading the online reviews and those who’ve visited here have been raving about the food - especially the Kalguksu. They say you’ve brought the flavours of Gwangjang to Gangnam. There’s this one thing, though - ”

“Sajangnim”, Kyungsoo interrupts a zealous Baekhyun’s pitch, “I don’t think this is any of his business. We’ve been keeping track of reviews and such - ”

“Let the boy speak. He’s family.” She says softly, pressing her fingers to her temples, clearly clutching at straws now.

Kyungsoo clenches his jaw and nods in Baekhyun’s direction, indicating him to continue.

“There-there”, Baekhyun stutters, eyes fixed on Kyungsoo who’s vaguely fascinated with his cuticles, “are some complaints about slow service. Particularly between starters and mains.”

After an uncomfortably rich pause, Imo gently rests her hand atop Baekhyun’s “Baekhyunah, how long are you here for?”

“For as long as you need”, the apples of his cheeks rise as his eyes crinkle into a gleeful smile.

***

“Somebody is early. Also, the cart looks different…it’s..?”

Dressed in his usual black athleisure, round eyes framed with chunky glasses, Kyungsoo jogs lightly to match your out-of-character sprightly pace into the market.

“Bigger. I bought a new one.” You chirp, shooting him an out-of-character smile.

Even the dreary weather isn’t a buzzkill because today is supposed to be Baekhyun’s first day at work.

“How did you get Sajangnim to agree? She can be -”

“Miserly? Stingy? Close-fisted? Also, when will you stop calling her Sajangnim?”

“Just so that you can stop addressing me appropriately? Dream on. And I meant economical. Sajangnim is economical.”

“Chef, do you even listen? I bought it. With my own money. I figured since we’d need more ingredients now, we could use a bigger one.”

“And how did you come to that conclusion?” Impervious to his smug tone, you step away to pick up a one kg bulk pack of dried shiitake mushrooms while he’s examining a small batch of zucchini.

“Because Baekhyun’s gonna be working with us now.”

“Temporarily. And we’re suddenly going to start doing better because of an inexperienced, unemployed -”

The wheels of the cart hit his ankle when you swivel it, making him wince in pain.

“Oops! Sorry.”

“You did that on purpose!” He chides.

Half-shrugging, you say nonchalantly, “Serves you right. Baekhyun may be inexperienced but he isn’t unemployed. If anything, he’s doing us a favour. He’s whimsical like that.”

“I know”, he states, forcefully taking control of the cart, “I know he isn’t unemployed. He owns a Hapkido training academy for elementary school children and is on a break these days. I looked him up. I, personally, wouldn’t have hired him if it were my restaurant but I’m sure Sajangnim -”

“Chef?” You stop dead in your tracks.

“What?”

“You’re on…” you wanted to say ‘social media’ but the words sounded almost blasphemous to be used in front of a very uptight Doh Kyungsoo: a man with absolutely no online presence.

“What is it?” His eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

“Nothing, let’s go.”

“You know what else is different today?” He says on your way out, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.

“Hmm?”

“You. You’ve showered.” He chortles, thinking he’s being funny.

But with a hardened expression, you let him know that he’s crossed a line.

“Too far?”

“A tad.”

“Let’s get you some coffee.”

“No.” You smile inwardly, relishing his apologetic tone.

“No?”

“We have to pick up Baekhyun’s apron and nametag.”

At first you thought you were imagining this.

A group of high school girls frequenting Choi Yoonsun’s must obviously be because they want to get healthy, homely meals instead of the trash served at fast food chains or the uneconomical subsistence of instagrammable cafes. They’re obviously not here for the charming server with an athlete’s body and a boyish grin.

“He should wear respectable clothing”, says Kyungsoo, indicating at Baekhyun’s skinny jeans and fitted black tee, hiss sharper than the sizzle of minced garlic in butter.

“Why, I don’t think his cleavage is showing”, you retort, scooping out a serving of rice from the cooker.

“You have absolutely no shame”, he states matter-of-factly, stirring the soup pot.

“What? Is my cleavage showing, too?” You ask in mock-surprise, fixing your apron theatrically.

“Forget I said anything.”

The aroma of Kimchi Jjigae had you salivating and you couldn’t wait to taste it for seasoning. Kyungsoo’s cooking amply made up for his drab, lacklustre personality.

“Chef, lighten up. Any publicity is good publicity.”

“You sound like a tabloid journalist”, leaving the soup to simmer, he turns around to face you, “What’s wrong with your hair?”

“I got a haircut”, scrunching your face you respond suspiciously, the fact that he noticed it despite the hair cover makes your heart palpitate.

Taking the unwarranted attention away from your hair, you ask hastily, “You think they’re here for Baekhyun and not your food, right?”

“Ye-yes”, he stutters, looking away.

“These people wouldn’t be here time and again if it weren’t for the food, Chef. You should know that.”

Moving closer to him, you lightly dust flour off of his shoulders.

“How did you get flour on your shoulders?”

His ears go scarlet.

Imo comes into the kitchen while Kyungsoo and you are preparing for the day ahead. Baekhyun has gone down to Bucheon to oversee the affairs of his training academy.

“There’s this new officer who’s reviewing all liquor permits issued this year. Be careful and make sure to check all IDs twice. I’m taking the day off. Will you two be okay by yourselves?” She swooshes out of the kitchen, not bothering with your incoherent replies.

“Can’t believe they’ve ditched us on a Friday.” You grumble, soaking clams in fresh water.

“We’ll be fine.” Kyungsoo reassures you.

***

It had been quite the day and nearing closing time, your feet were going sore. Baekhyun taking on the toughest role in the restaurant made you greatly appreciate his efforts. While most guests are civil, he’s experienced his fair share of rowdy ones firsthand and his ability to deal with them is unparalleled. He’s never, ever let any matter escalate to a point of embarrassment and has demonstrated the maturity to overcome every crisis situation with a smile on his face.

The fact that he’s only temporarily here suddenly starts to wear you out.

Kyungsoo sticks a handwritten note on the steel holder which reads - Yangnyeom - 2. It’s only been a little over eight months since the restaurant’s been fully functional yet the holder’s worn out more because of use and less because of time.

“About time we advanced to kitchen order tickets, right? Saves Baekhyun…or either of us unnecessary excursions to the kitchen. Also, billing will be simpler that way.” You offer while straightening your apron and getting ingredients ready for Kyungsoo to prepare the sauce.

“Yeah, it does”, he seems really out of it as he’s getting chunks of juicy chicken ready for the fryer. He’s moving around the kitchen rather clumsily, nearly tipping over the bottle of corn syrup.

“Wah, Chef, are you alright? Would you like me to do this?”

Resting his back against the wall, he slowly sinks to the floor, face buried in hands. “Yes, please.”

While you’re preparing a sauce the recipe for which you know like the back of your hand, his instructions don’t cease. The only thing you’ve ever liked about working with this man is that contrary to Imo, he does not believe in micromanaging. But right now it feels like you’re in the kitchen with her and not with Kyungsoo.

The tension causes you to lower the chicken into the fryer hastily resulting in specks of flaming oil to splatter onto your arm.

He’s quick to rush to your aid with a cold towel.

“Yah, Chef, you’re making me nervous, what’s with all this nitpicking?” You almost yell at him as he’s gingerly dabbing the towel on the affected area.

“I’m sorry, I am so sorry. It’s just”, he pauses briefly, worrying at his lower lip, questioning eyes peering into yours, before helping you with the chicken - slightly more confident in his movements now, “whatever you do, don’t get out of the kitchen. Table number four, those guys there, are weird.”

“Weird, how?”

“Rowdy, mannerless and drunk. Really, really drunk. Steamrolled by the ‘Friday happy’.”

“Ah, Baekhyun’s well-versed with their kind. Don’t worry, just be polite. Are you sure you don’t want me to intervene?”

“Positive and whatever happens?”

“Stay put. Chef?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s only thirty minutes to closing. We can get through this, okay? And don’t accept further orders!”

***

Twenty minutes after, you’re aimlessly scrolling through your phone to take your mind off the stabbing pain in your lower abdomen. Simultaneously playing a little game of inventing the kind of content Kyungsoo would upload if he were a user on these sites only to be jolted with the realization as to how little you know about the man.

As the restaurant’s occupied with boisterous conversations and raucous laughter, you’re counting seconds to closing. Multiplying three hundred with every bracket of five on the clock.

The din comes to an abrupt halt when you hear a middle aged man bellow, “Yah, punk, do you have a death wish?!”

Gradually moving closer to the door, you try to get a view of the scene outside.

You see a polite but firm Kyungsoo bow before the man, “We can’t serve you any more alcohol, sorry, we’ll be closing now.”

The other two men along with the nasty vermin have long passed out. You quickly call for a cab, subconsciously grabbing a hold of Kyungsoo’s knife in the process.

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO YOU’RE TALKING TO RIGHT NOW?” He thunders.

Kyungsoo recoils as the man grows louder by the second. “We cannot serve you anymore alcohol, sir.”

It happens in a flash.

So fast you almost feel like you’re astral projecting.

One moment, the man raises a hand to strike Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo swerves. You dash out of the kitchen with the knife in your hand. Face to face with the man, you scream until your lungs hurt, “GET OUT! I SAID GET OUT OF MY RESTAURANT!”

The vermin’s companions stir at the sound.

With frightened eyes they take in the scene as their drowsy brain is still trying to assess the situation for action. They soon pull the man by his shoulders while Kyungsoo’s tugging at your knife bearing arm that’s still raised in combat mode, simultaneously apologising to the rowdy guest.

Wagging his sausage like finger at the both of you he warns menacingly, “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

Slapping the tab on their table, you proceed to threaten him, “Settle this and get - the fuck - out of my restaurant before I call the cops.”

Throwing a couple of bills on the table, he staggers out, grumbling, “You just wait”, still wagging his finger and reeking of stale alcohol.

It was only then that your grip on the knife eases as Kyungsoo carefully draws it out of your hand and you see, just like you, he’s shaking too.

“What just happened?” He’s the first to speak as you sit across the table from him, dark orbs glinting in the dim light, forehead beaded with sweat. His hands are tightly wound together as he places them on the table. One day without Baekhyun and Imo and Kyungsoo and you had messed up real bad. By the looks of it, neither of you were ready to accept this fact.

“We did exactly what we were supposed to do. Stop worrying!” You say more to yourself.

He’s not convinced.

“Chef, that man’s reaction wasn’t something that you could’ve preempted or….controlled in any way.” Finding yourself getting mildly annoyed, you try your best to lay the edge off of your voice. All you wanted was for him to be alright because, technically, none of this was his fault.

“Would you have allowed him to take a swing at you?”

“He was far too drunk for that”, he exhales heavily and you notice his stance relax before clamping up again, “but you-you came out with a knife!”

His tone isn’t accusatory. He’s simply baffled.

“Fight or flight…”

“It’s my knife.”

“I’ll be sure to hide the murder weapon.”

He nods slowly.

“Do you need some water? Tea? A hug?”

You half expect him to scowl or groan or whatever it is that he usually does but he seems to be actually evaluating his options.

“A beer?”

“Down for Chimaek?”

Stood up to go into the kitchen, you awkwardly, and very, very slowly put an arm around his shoulders and give him a tight squeeze.

***

This was your first time having fried chicken and beer in complete silence - a few minutes felt like hours with the incident still hovering over both of you.

“Chef, you know we haven’t murdered anyone right?”

“The restaurant feels like a scene of crime to me. Also, what did he mean by ‘you just wait’?”

“Eh. Empty threats. Testosterone poisoning. Do you think they’ll throw me into prison for threatening him with a knife?”

“You should be sent in for pilfering stock”, he says gesturing at the tray between you, taking a chunky bite of the chicken, “you were going to take this home, weren’t you? It’s good, by the way.”

“Ah, this makes me happy”, you lean back into your chair, smiling discreetly at Kyungsoo’s messy fingers and mouth.

“A compliment from me makes you happy?” His eyebrows shoot up as he takes a swig of beer.

“Testosterone poisoning”, you say pointing an accusatory finger at him, “I couldn’t care less what you think. I’m pretty confident in my skills.”

“As you should be. Then what ‘makes you happy’? The thought of going to prison?”

“Yes”, you lie, “you think I’ll have a prison bitch?”

“I think you’ll be the prison bitch.”

You open your mouth to protest but what escapes is a mortifying burp.

Uncomfortable silence.

Meeting his eyes, you purse your lips, feeling your face flame. He smiles at you and says, ‘wait for it’, before belching. Loudly. Sending you both into fits of laughter.

“What happened here last week?”

Kyungsoo and you are seated opposite Imo like criminals before a cop in an interrogation room. Baekhyun is holed up in the kitchen, cleaning. For the most part, he avoids conflicts like these where Imo’s red hot beam of anger could be misdirected at him.

She’s glaring at the responsible child, Kyungsoo, to break first but since it was your idea to keep the incident from her you start to explain. By the time you’re done she seems angrier, but not at the two of you. Only after a tiny lecture on how you should learn to be more tactful in such situations does she spell out her real concern.

Turns out the man the both of you had a scuffle with last week is the new officer’s brother-in-law. Now, the restaurant’s received a notice from the liquor permit’s office for an “inspection” in the coming week. Although aware that this situation isn’t either of your fault, Imo is far from pleased with this development.

“Fix this”, she orders and disappears into the kitchen.

There’s only one person who can help you out of this mess, but neither Kyungsoo nor you possess the emotional capacity to deal with him.

“He’s our only option”, you deadpan.

With a heavy sigh, Kyungsoo dials Mark Lee.

***

Mouth stuffed with egg sandwich, Mark Lee garbles, “What do you want from me? It’s an inspection so let them come and - inspect.”

Imo’s taken off for the day and it’s just you and Kyungsoo trying to sort out the mess you weren’t entirely responsible for.

“You said we could call you if we needed help with anything”, Kyungsoo reasons with Mark who’s now ogling at him as if he just got spoken to in an alien language.

“Yes, but I don’t see how I can be of help here?”

“Tell us anything you know about this new officer. Don’t leave anything out.” You’re nearly begging at this point and Mark Lee, as always, is reveling in your misery.

He relaxes in his seat, swirling the glass of watermelon juice, “You know you can’t buy your way out of this right? He’s an uptight bugger and you screwed up! Big time! All you had to do was give his brother-in-law a bottle of beer.”

“Oh, we’re sorry we didn’t have his family tree handy”, Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, “Besides, were just trying to abide by the rules - ”

The helplessness in Kyungsoo’s voice causes you to lose your cool at Mark. “Yah! Quit being cocky and just tell us everything you know!”

“Oh-oh feisty”, his mouth spreads into an annoying grin, “okay so he loves his wife, obviously, it’s why he’s doing this. Has an eleven year old daughter who is the apple of his eye. Erm, let’s see, he’s spent his teenage years in Japan and the country is all he’ll ever talk about. Piss him off and this inspection turns into a review and if things continue to spiral you’ll have your permit revoked. So be careful.” His eyes lock with yours making you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“What are you planning to do with this information, anyway?”

“We don’t know just yet”, Kyungsoo starts clearing up the table, as usual, and Mark knows that his time is up.

“Dude”, he leans towards you, whisper-chortling, as Kyungsoo retires into the kitchen, “did you drive him out with a knife?”

Nodding, you grin gleefully.

“Fiery! You’re totally my boss’ type.”

***

“So what are we going to do?” Rubbing your eyes and stifling a yawn, you ask Kyungsoo.

While the world sleeps, the market is awake. Buzzing with a contagious energy. Although you hate having to wake up this early, the moment you step into this space, you’re completely taken by its vigour and gusto for life.

It’s nothing short of a celebration.

Chefs, big and small, passionately scour every nook and corner for the perfect herbs, veggies, and meats. You may not know each other closely or even by name but you feel part of a community - part of a family. True to character, you won’t ever stop whining about this routine with friends and family and occasionally with Kyungsoo, Baekhyun, and Imo but you know it in your heart of hearts, you wouldn’t skip sourcing for the world.

“So he’s spent his teenage years in Japan right?” Kyungsoo muses, lowering a crate of mudfish in the cart for today’s special, Chueotang.

“Let’s recreate his teenage years for him. Japanese dorm meals?”

Kyungsoo stops abruptly, “That’s a thought!”

“We can set the menu today after closing.”

“How about a coffee now?” He asks, averting your gaze as a slight smile forms on his lips.

On the morning of the inspection, Kyungsoo sneezed. Once. Twice. And on the third strike he was sent home by Imo because “this is not a good look”. Or forced out of the restaurant - depends on who you ask. He whined a little, even shed a few tears but Imo steeled herself and drew him out, anyway.

Although the menu is simple, the concept is layered and robust. The exercise is, after all, being undertaken merely to impress the officer in question. Well equipped for the inspection, the restaurant’s closed for the day.

This is nothing Baekhyun and you can’t manage but, obviously, Kyungsoo feels otherwise. He’s been calling to check in in intervals of five but seems like the medication’s finally kicked in and put him in a state of deep slumber. Good for him. And for you.

Two hours until showtime.

Under your close supervision, Baekhyun is labouring over the fairly straightforward stuff: tako sausages, potato and macaroni salad and egg sandwiches while you’ve kicked off the recipe for rolled omelettes.

Egg mixture aside, you start the rice cooker, leave green tea to boil for salmon ochazuke while the frying pan’s heating up for yaki udon.

***

Once you’d gotten all the dishes down, done exactly the way instructed by Kyungsoo: rolled omelettes, yaki udon, tako sausage, potato and macaroni salad, egg sandwiches and salmon ochazuke, it was time for you to take on the simplest but the most provoking dish on the menu.

Neko Manma. Or, cat rice.

“Ah, Dooly, shall I bring out the jar of bonito flakes?” Baekhyun prompts.

“The one Chef brought us this morning?”

He hums in response.

“I think we should use the store bought one instead.”

“But he’s worked on this recipe all week. You sure you wanna do that?”

“Positive.”

“He’ll flip out.”

“I’ll deal with it. We’re altering the recipe for Neko Manma, this ones too pretentious. Doesn’t sit right with me.”

“So, what do you want to do with it?” Baekhyun’s tone is wary and questioning.

“Rice, soy sauce, store bought bonito flakes and just a faint drizzle of butter. Nice and clean.” You respond confidently.

“Are you really sure?”

***

“Why are you here?” You hiss at Kyungsoo while Imo is outside, busy greeting the motley of high-headed officials, giving them a brief of the restaurant, herself, her team, and going over the licenses and documentation.

Face flushed, Kyungsoo’s lips are swollen and his eyes are runny, puffy, and bloodshot. He’s clearly in the need for some rest.

“To see if everything’s in order.” His voice is hoarse.

He starts to closely examine the entrees laid out, a smile of approval gracing his lips until he stops short of cat rice.

“These bonito flakes -”

“I didn’t use the fresh ones. I thought -”

“There’s no miso soup?”

“No, Chef, I reckoned -”

“No grilled fish? Are you being lazy?”

“Chef, no, I am not being lazy. The original recipe just didn’t feel right. So i changed it up a little -”

“Changed it up? That decision was not yours to make!”

“It’s just a side, it’s not going to matter so much!”

Absolutely livid, he runs a hand through his hair and laments. “If we weren’t this close to serving i would’ve dumped this into the bin because that’s where it belongs.”

“Chef, please”, your voice quivers, “let me explain! This was supposed to be the lightest dish on the menu. We ended up styling it with… overwhelming ingredients, so I -”

“I’m utterly confused! What on earth led you to believe you’re qualified enough to teach me? I’ve trained at a diner in Tokyo for two whole years. I know exactly what I’m doing here!”

Eyes brimming with tears, you glance over and Baekhyun who has ‘I told you so’ written all over his face.

"Kyungsooyah? When did you come in? What’s going on here?”

Imo’s bewilderment cuts through the tension.

“Sajangnim, I was feeling slightly better so I thought of dropping by to wish you luck."

Courtesying, he quickly dashes out through the back door.

***

The inspection has been revoked. Unofficially, atleast. The restaurant is to receive a written order in a week’s time.

The officer was impressed to the extent of apologising for his brother-in-law’s behaviour. He even lauded Imo on teaching her staff to stick to the establishment’s principles which made you wonder if he was fully aware of the facts of the case: knife and all.

He also mentioned how, as a student, he’d eat a bowl of Neko Manma before every exam because at the time, to him, anything else was unpalatable.

And that, this was what he considered to be the perfect recipe.

You go through the rest of the day as if sleepwalking. How stupid could you have been believe you were “on good terms” with Kyungsoo or that this was an equal and productive partnership. The fact remained that he still thought of you as someone frivolous: some air-headed moron who has no idea what she’s doing.

Someone beneath him.

You made an effort to appreciate this victory but the day had only left you with a bitter taste. Your mother had been right. You’ve always been too soft. Too trusting. Letting people in too easily and allowing them to walk all over you.

Now, Kyungsoo’s always been like this: controlling, stubborn, absolutely thorough. He never deviates from his well laid out plans. But today was different. Today, you expected something out of him. You expected him to trust you. You expected him to understand your reasoning, to give you a chance. To comprehend the fact that you could have a mind of your own and that not everything has to be exactly by the book.

You loathe yourself for expecting this out of him.

Sailing rough seas together doesn’t bloom friendships. You were stupid to think of him as a friend while, in all these months, his opinion of you had remained the same.

Contrary to the Gwangjang days, you’d long stopped wishing him gone. In some farthest corner of your heart you were even grateful that he chose to say.

You’ve been so stupid.

Two months later

The kitchen has been fervent but hushed.

After all this time, Baekhyun, Kyungsoo and you seem to have found a rhythm. You don’t need to verbally communicate to get through a workday.

But, you used to.

Sometimes unnecessarily even. Kyungsoo and you hardly saw eye to eye on most things but there would be some semblance of friendly workplace banter. He’d say a little something about a perfectly done piece of meat or a well seasoned soup. Baekhyun would take wickedly funny pot shots at some of the customers (to the utmost horror of Imo). Imo would sporadically push morsels of whatever was being prepared into your mouths.

Baekhyun receiving feedback in the form of grunts has shut him up altogether. And the busyness of the restaurant has seemed to have blinkered Imo into not being able to perceive the tension between Kyungsoo and you.

It’s a dance to no music.

Furtive glances. Measured smiles. Curt nods. Exceptional dishes. Decent earnings.

That’s it.

Maybe that’s how it should’ve always been.

“Ready to go?” Baekhyun asks, dressed in a well fitted black shirt and slacks.

You’re mopping the floor. Clearly not ready to go.

When you make this known with a sharp glare, Baekhyun giggles.

Nothing good can come out of that impish smile of his. But before you can sink your claws into him and drag him back, he’s already chatting up Kyungsoo who’s fixing the chairs.

“Kyungsoo, you coming?” He says a little too loudly and you groan. But you know Kyungsoo all too well. He’s one to decline offers involving socialising with you (unless of course, the offer is put forth by his dearest Sajangnim).

’You can do better than that’, you mouth to Baekhyun.

Incurious about Kyungsoo’s answer, you’re fully prepared to chomp Baekhyun’s ear off for inviting him.

“Sure”, Kyungsoo says plainly.

Sure?

Without taking the where-what-why route like normal people do? Just..sure?

“Great! We’re going out for drinks since it’s Dooly’s birthday today.”

“Oh. Happy birthday.”

“Thanks. But, Chef, you can’t come. I don’t want you there. I’m sor-”

Swallowing the apology crackling at the tip of your tongue, you dash into the kitchen, your periphery catching his lowered gaze and tight smile.

Regularising the erratic thrumming of your heart with deep breaths, you shove the mop into the storage area, take off your apron and throw it in the laundry bag (which you were to deal with the next morning), straighten your outfit, fix your hair, dab some rosy tint onto your lips, throw your tote bag over your shoulder, run back out, grab Baekhyun by purposefully lodging your nails into his arms, and take off.

189 notes · View notes

heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years

Text

Under My Skin (Ethan x MC)

Warning: 18+, NSFW

Summary: Set in the middle of chapter 6, Ethan and Naomi have it out over the current state of the diagnostics team.

Tags: @colourmeshy @virtualrain202 @fanmantrashcan @writinghereandthere @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune ~v~

Naomi stares at the textbook in front of her, eyes tired and blurry. She checks the time on her cell phone and 3:22 AM stares back in bold, white letters. Craning her head slightly, she spots Ethan standing at his kitchen island, looking at something on his laptop.

She never thought she’d be back in his apartment, but he invited the entire diagnostics team over so they could get some research done on Leland Bloom’s case. Ethan wants it to be solved as quickly as possible, and he wants to be rid of the tech billionaire, so after work they all congregated in his apartment, eating Chinese food, drinking wine, passing around textbooks and throwing out theories.

They’ve been at it for almost 6 hours now.

The energy in the room is off. Ethan’s been pissed ever since the board told him they’d need to be for-profit and start accepting wealthy clients and potential donors, and everyone feels it. June, Baz, and Naomi have been walking on eggshells around him, but aside from occasional snark from Naomi, they’ve been extremely curt.

Jenner likes her though. The golden retriever took a shine to her the moment she crossed the threshold to Ethan’s condo, sniffing at her feet and attaching himself to her hip. He’s now lounging with her, head in her lap and she pours over this book, and she’s glad. The friendly dog provides an excellent distraction and Naomi is thankful, because his owner currently sucks.

Naomi has dealt with a lot of Ethan’s moods before: upset, defeated, angry, happy, the works. But she’s never had his ire directed at her before. They’re in this mess because of her, and it’s a tricky space to occupy. It’s not fun.

“As much as I love reading, if I look at another word, I think my brain might melt,” June says, breaking the tense silence. She stifles a yawn.

“I’ve tapped out for the night as well,” Baz adds. “I’ve looked up every possible kidney and bladder disease and disorder known to mankind. I’m on sensory overload. I think it’s time I go home.”

Ethan looks up from his laptop. He knows his team is probably exhausted. He can’t believe they’ve actually stayed over this long. “Well, thank you for staying. Go home, get some rest, I’ll see you at the hospital.”

June and Baz gather their belongings and all of the study material they brought along with them, returning Ethan’s living room to its original tidy state. Muttering goodbyes, the two of them exit the apartment.

And then there were two. Naomi ignores the tension, ignoring the fact that they haven’t been alone together in over a week. Instead, she buries her face in her book, trying to focus on the words.

Ethan doesn’t bother sparing Naomi another glance before asking, “You didn’t want to leave with them?”

“Why, are you about to go to bed?”

“No.”

“Then, no.” She’s not going to stop now, and give him the satisfaction of thinking she’s given up for the night. Her stubbornness won’t allow it. “I don’t want to disrupt the process. I want this guy diagnosed and treated as badly as you do.”

Ethan scoffs. “I doubt it.”

Naomi has been giving as good as she gets when it comes to the passive aggressive snark, but it’s just exhausting at this point. She refuses to be his emotional punching bag any longer. She whips around in her seat. “God, is being a petulant little crybaby a second full-time job for you?”

That manages to get Ethan’s full attention. He levels a cool glare at the young resident, eyebrow raised in challenge. “You’ve gotten real comfortable calling me out of my name recently. Care to repeat that, Valentine?”

“You heard me loud and clear, Ramsey. You’re being a petulant little crybaby. You’ve been trying to pick a fight with me for the past 2 weeks. Look, I apologized, multiple times, for going behind your back or over your head, but I will not apologize for doing what I believe is right, not just for the team, but the hospital.”

“And you’re an insubordinate know-it-all!” Ethan shoots back. “You’re the type to touch the hot stove despite being repeatedly told not to because you think you’re a special snowflake who’s above getting burned. You lack foresight and analytical thought and self-preservation.”

Naomi recoils, having not expected Ethan to snap at her like that. “Excuse me?”

Jenner recognizes the change in tone between both adults. Not wanting to be caught in the crossfire, he moves from his spot on the couch and trots out of the living room, disappearing into the hallway.

“You thought this was going to be easy, that patients would just come flocking to us, but look at us, and everything would be perfect. We’re part of some social media...something or another’s video diary, we’re competing with a subpar hospital for patients despite being better than them, wasting time and resources because he wants to treat this like a reality show contest, and who knows what’s next, because you’ve opened Pandora’s box. We’re whoring ourselves out to the highest bidder, and the integrity and core foundation of this team has been compromised. So please spare me the martyr act, Naomi, and while you’re at it, please remember that I’m still your boss the next time you want to spout off at the mouth.”

Naomi’s hands are shaking, and she can practically feel the anger boiling in her blood. The nerve of this man. She stands up, ignoring the heavy book that fall out of her lap and onto the floor as she does so. She charges over to him, and sizes him up. Ethan’s almost a foot taller than her, but Naomi doesn’t care about the height disparity. She tilts her head back so she can look him in the eye.

“I’m not a martyr, but you’re a self righteous hypocrite. You’ve been pouting and waxing poetic about Naveen’s mission when you were the first one to mess with his legacy.”

Ethan’s nostrils flare at the accusation. “Excuse me?”

“Last year, you got into bed with Declan Nash and big pharma, compromising your own shaky moral code in order to save the life of one person. I’m trying to keep the team around in order to save a lot more people than just Naveen!”

“That was different!” Ethan argues. It doesn’t even feel right coming out of his mouth, but they’re far too deep in the argument for him to do anything besides dig his toes in.

“The only difference is you were the one in control then. But because it is my idea, you’re rejecting it. You’re being completely unreasonable here, Ethan. We’re standing in the middle of a sinking ship. Edenbrook is in trouble. My friends and I didn’t get our new salaries upon becoming residents, there’s talk of them shutting down the free clinic, and they’ll be coming after our team next. Who knows, maybe they’ll decide that mental health isn’t important and the entire psychiatric department should go. And then the nurses. And then they’ll start ordering less and less supplies, just to stay above water. And maybe you don’t care, because you’re Ethan Ramsey, you’re so wealthy that you only get a one dollar salary from the hospital, you’re established, your livelihood isn’t on the line, and I’m sure any hospital in the world would kill to employ you, but the rest of us? The little guys? We don’t have that option, so again, if you’re looking for me to kiss your ass and grovel because I made an executive decision, you’re going to be looking for a mighty long time.”

Ethan studies her, his gaze coolly fixated on her as she rants because he’s waiting for the second she stops talking, so he can jump back into his own argument. He realizes that it’s not an effective way to debate, and he falters slightly.

“What’s wrong?” Naomi goads, her voice taking on a singsong tone. She’s embroiled in the fight now. “Cat got your tongue?”

In his 37 years of living, Ethan can confidently say Naomi Valentine is the most infuriating woman he’s ever met. A stubborn, impulsive, hot-head with a smart mouth.

And fuck, he’s made a mistake.

Her mouth. Now his gaze is fixated on it, her full lips that she’s repeatedly bitten down on during this argument, the tackiness of her lip gloss, the way her tongue darts in and out.

Their argument is now the furthest thing from his mind, and he’s actually annoyed by it. What is it about this…woman that completely bewitches him? He wants to argue, not be transfixed on how pretty she is. She doesn’t even have to do anything and he’s under her spell again.

A sharp jab in the middle of his chest pulls Ethan back to reality. He looks down and realizes that Naomi poked him in the chest, out of anger or to get his attention, he’s not sure.

“Hey!” The fact that he’s ignoring her only makes her more incensed. He started this fight, he doesn’t get the right to dissociate and shut down in the middle of it. “Have you listened to a word I just said?”

“No,” Ethan answers honestly. Naomi’s eyes darken at the response. He didn’t say that to piss her off further, but he won’t lie and say he doesn’t enjoy the sight.

He can tell she’s going to launch into another tirade, one that’s completely separate from their original issue, because that’s just how things are between them; they spiral before either of them knows what’s happening.

Before she can even fix her mouth to call him another name, his hand cups her jaw, tilting her head back, and he slants his mouth over hers, kissing her fiercely.

She gasps. This is the first time he’s ever caught her off guard and initiated a kiss. She’s usually the one to be in control.

All too quickly, Ethan pulls back, locking eyes with the young woman in front of him. She’s dazed, chest heaving and eyes glazed over.

“Did you do that to get me to stop talking?”

“No, I kissed you because I wanted to. But the fact that it got you to stop running your mouth is a personal bonus.”

Naomi huffs, but doesn’t say anything else. God, he could be such an asshole at times.

“I want to do it again,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. His blue eyes pierce into her own, and it suddenly becomes hard to focus on anything other than him. “Can I?”

She doesn’t know why it’s so sexy, him asking for permission, but she feels the butterflies in her stomach rumble at the question. She’s barely able to nod her head before Ethan launches himself at her, sending her flying back into the kitchen counter.

It’s so different from any other kisses they’ve shared. This one she can feel all the way down in her toes. His tongue darts out, gliding against her bottom lip and demanding access to her mouth, which she eagerly grants him.

Everything about him invades her senses: the feel of his calloused hands touching her jaw, the scratch of his beard against her face, the smell of his cologne (something by Gucci that she’s been yet to narrow down), his taste (she can still taste the wine on him, even though he drank it earlier), his sounds (the little groans that only she’s privy to, always gravelly and smooth, that make her knees buckle). It all culminates into this one man that is so all-consuming, it makes her lose her mind.

The kisses become shorter, more teasing, allowing Naomi the opportunity to actually breathe. He leaves kisses along her jaw and neck, making her whimper.

Ethan wraps an arm around Naomi’s waist and spins them, pushing her against the wall. She winces upon contact. “Warn a girl next time.”

“You want to know what’s been on my mind recently?” Ethan asks, nipping at Naomi’s earlobe.

“W-What?”

His hands find purchase underneath the grey Henley she’s wearing and he lifts it up. Her stomach clenches under his touch and it’s maddening just how responsive she is to him. “I haven’t been able to get the sight of you out of my mind since I came to pick you up from your apartment the other day.” With trembling fingers, Naomi helps him remove the shirt, and it’s tossed somewhere behind them.

She’s not wearing the grey bra he saw the other day, this one is a soft pink, and he groans at how it contrasts against her skin. There isn’t a color that doesn’t look good on her. “I stood there…” he only pauses to place opened mouthed kisses on her collarbone. “...like a floundering idiot…” this time he kisses slightly lower, earning a sharp inhale from Naomi. The noise does nothing to soothe the erection straining in his jeans. “...while you decided to tease me.”

“You’re the one who decided to stay,” Naomi shoots back with a shrug. “So I had to put on a little show.” He hums in agreement. His tongue darts out, flattening over her lace covered nipple. “Fuck, just take it off!”

“You still have no patience,” Ethan observes. He yanks at the material, until he hears a loud tear.

“That’s La Perla!”

Ethan blinks, struggling to find the significance in that statement. Was it supposed to mean something to him? “Okay?”

“It was expensive, you jerk!”

“I’ll buy you 10 more,” he replies with a shrug before resuming his previous activity, pulling one of her nipples between his lips, sucking lightly. Naomi’s breath comes out in quick bursts, and it’s becoming harder for her to stay grounded to reality. She reaches out, wanting to touch him, but he intercepts, catching her wrist. “Hands to yourself, Valentine.”

Ethan’s fingers make work of the button holding her jeans together, and he drags down the zipper. He yanks at her jeans with the same care he afforded her shirt and bra, tugging them down until they pool at her feet. Naomi does the rest of the work, hopping around until the pants are fully off.

“You and the thin scraps you call underwear, have been driving me insane all week,” Ethan confesses. “The other day when I came to pick you up, part of me was so mad at you because of your blatant defiance, but the other part of me wanted to push you onto that bed, and do very, very inappropriate things to you.”

The wetness that floods her panties is overwhelming. She clenches her thighs together in hopes of alleviating some of the tension, but it doesn’t help. Figuring out a new strategy, she wraps a leg around his waist, pulling him flush to her. She rolls her hips, grinding into him. The growl that escapes his lips only fuels her and strokes her ego. “You should’ve.”

Ethan kisses her again, reveling in the needy way Naomi claws at him. Her fingers are desperate, fingering into his t-shirt, twisting at the fabric. He’s unsure if she wants to take it off, or if she’s impatient enough to say ‘fuck it,’ and just rip it.

Whatever the case, he doesn’t let her continue. Grabbing both of her hands, he forces them on either side of her. “You really do have a problem with listening. No. Touching.”

The gruffness in his voice sends a shiver down her spine, but whatever rebellious side of her that wants to challenge the command is squelched with one look into his eyes. She can tell he means business and now isn’t the time to challenge his authority.

With restraint she didn’t know she had, Naomi places her palms on the hall behind her, and she stays as still as she can.

“Good girl.” Ethan smirks and drops her hands. He untangles himself from her and steps back an inch to admire his work. “You followed directions for once.”

Whatever smart aleck reply that was about to fly from her mouth is stifled by Ethan pulling her soaked underwear down and slipping two digits past her folds. The noise she lets out is a mixture of a high pitched yelp and a strangled moan, something that threatens to choke her.

The pace he sets is random and uneven, never giving Naomi a chance to settle into a rhythm, and she wonders if this is his way of punishing her, keeping her keyed up and writhing on him for what feels like eternity, trapped in her own form of purgatory.

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and bucks her hips wildly into his hand, trying to keep pace with him.

“Stop doing that,” Ethan demands, using his free hand to pull her lip out of her mouth. “I want to hear you, Rookie.”

Something about the use of her former nickname makes her moan, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Ethan.

“You like the nickname,” he states. “It’s funny, you know. You take every opportunity to defy me, argue with me, and push my buttons, yet you get off on me controlling you.”

She can’t focus. He’s too close, it feels too good, and her brain can’t function properly under these conditions. He presses forward, the heel of his palm pressing into her clit, earning a hiss.

“Admit it.”

At this point Naomi would admit to committing armed robbery if it meant he’d keep doing this. She nods frantically. “Yes, Doctor.” He groans at the use of his title, and he pumps harder, curling his fingers inside of her.

Naomi stands on tiptoes and desperately claws at the wall behind her. “Fuck Ethan, please!”

“Please, what? What do you want?” His lips find her neck again, and he sucks on her pulse point, only making things more hazy. “Use your words, Rookie.”

She wants a lot of things. She wants to cry out, she wants to dig her nails into his back until she draws blood, she wants him to keep talking her through this, his gruff voice in her ear as she shatters around him.

Unfortunately, Naomi cannot form a coherent sentence to save her life. She just rolls her hips, shamelessly grinding herself into his hand. “I...I…” The pleasure mounts, building in the pit of her stomach, spreading out. She’s so close, she can almost taste it.

“Do you want to cum for me?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, please, I want–” Ethan rewards her for her honesty and his thumb drags into her clit and he rubs the sensitive nub in tight, quick circles. That’s all it takes, and she orgasms with a strangled cry and she’s thankful Ethan is right here because he holds her upright as her legs momentarily give out.

When Naomi regains the ability to stand on her own, Ethan lets go and slowly removes his fingers. Moving fast, Naomi grabs his hand, and without breaking eye contact with him, she slides the two digits into her mouth, licking them clean.

Ethan’s next breath is a shaky gasp that leaves his lung far too quickly. “Fuck, Rookie.”

“Why don’t we move this to the bedroom?” Naomi suggests, releasing his fingers with a loud pop.

Ethan shakes his head. “No.”

He registers the confusion on her face, but Ethan doesn’t give her a chance to respond. He grabs her by the waist and kisses her again, walking them towards the living room. He only breaks the kiss to pull his t-shirt over his head, and it joins the growing pile of discarded clothing scattered around. Naomi helps him speed the process along, getting rid of his belt and popping the button on his jeans. Her fingers hook into the belt loops of the pants and she pulls them down.

Before she can do anything else, Ethan stops her wandering hands. “Wait, wait.”

“Wait for what?”

Ethan knocks his forehead against hers and he sighs deeply. “Naomi, if you don’t want to do this, please stop me now.”

She thinks it’s cute that he’s giving her an out, but she doesn’t need it. Her fingers slip past the waistband of his soft cotton boxers, a warm dainty hand wrapping around him.

Ethan shudders as a warmth spreads through him at the touch of her hand, and he mentally curses himself. He pushes her hand away.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I’m not cumming into your hand.” Ethan spins Naomi around and bends her over the arm of his couch.

While it’s not the desk in his office, Naomi won’t complain. She feels one of his calloused hands trace the length of her spine and her eyes flutter shut in anticipation.

No patience left, Ethan tugs down his underwear, letting the material pool at his ankles. Without another word, he lines herself up at Naomi’s entrance and thrusts into her all at once. He groans at the sensation.

Naomi has never been more thankful for couch cushions, as they muffle the scream that escapes her.

“Fuck, Naomi.” He digs his fingers into her hips before pulling out and slamming back into her. He doesn’t give her any time to adjust, but she doesn’t mind. They both know patience isn’t her forte. “You’re...so...tight.” His words are punctuated by sharp thrusts that threaten to steal the air straight from her lungs.

He leans forward slacking against her, but Naomi welcomes the weight. His beard scrapes against her shoulder blade, his breath warm against her ear, his fingers which are no doubt going to leave a bruise, all of it makes her dizzy, and god, this isn’t going to last much longer.

His thrusts become sloppier, more frenzied as the pleasure mounts, his blood boiling in his veins like molten lava. The only thing he can hear is the sound of the skin slapping, and his ragged breaths.

“Are you close?” He asks. But Naomi can’t think, let alone actually speak words, even if something monosyllabic would suffice. Why does he keep trying to make her speak? Her head drops with a thud and she mumbles something incoherent.

“For someone who had so much shit to talk earlier, you’re mighty silent.” Letting go of her hip, Ethan tangles a hand in her hair, yanking it back so she can’t hide her face in the cushions anymore. His other hand reaches around and he rolls her clit with his middle finger. Still way too sensitive from her last orgasm, she thrusts back, clawing at the couch with her nails, but he holds her in place, refusing to let her move.

“Ethan, fuck, don’t stop!” The words fly out all at once, shaky, fast and jumbled, but it’s all Ethan needs.

With a burst of energy he didn't know he possessed, he drives into her, plunging deeper. “Cum for me, Rookie.”

Naomi screams. Loudly, and she’s sure his neighbors might be very annoyed, but she doesn’t care. Everything goes white behind her eyes as he all but pushes her over the edge. She clenches around him and Ethan hisses as she’s holding him in a vice-like grip. A few quick thrusts later, and he’s joining her in ecstasy, spilling inside of her. The hand holding her hair tightens for a second, then relaxes.

She’s pretty sure she blacked out for some period of time because when Naomi is finally able to focus, they’re no longer obscenely bent over the arm of Ethan’s couch. They’re on the floor, in the cramped space between the couch and the coffee table.

She’s hot and sticky and absolutely exhausted. She places her hand over her heart, willing it to stop beating so erratically. Stealing a glance, Naomi peers up and looks at Ethan. He looks as disheveled as she feels, his hair tousled, lips swollen, chest and neck flushed red.

Her voice is horse and completely shot to hell when she finally speaks, “If that’s how our fights are going to play out from now on, I’ll let you pick more fights with you. And I’m a Cancer, we’re stubborn people.”

“I think we can find a happy medium somewhere.”

Naomi rolls over, until she’s nestled into his side and her head is on his chest. She can feel his heart beating rhythmically under her cheek. “Are we still fighting?”

“No.”

“Are you still mad at me?” He doesn’t answer the question right away, and a sense of dread fills her.

“I was never really mad at you,” Ethan admits after a long bout of silence. “I’m just mad at the entire situation. I’m mad at the budget cuts, I’m mad at our country’s healthcare system, I’m annoyed with your inability to listen to me. I’m mad at Leland Bloom’s obscene wealth and the fact that he gets to dangle his money in our faces like we’re horses waiting for carrots.”

“You made the right call, Naomi,” he continues. “But it’s a call you shouldn’t have been forced to make in the first place. I’m sorry for making you carry the brunt of my misplaced anger.”

“Apology accepted. And since we’re apologizing, I’m sorry for calling you a petulant little crybaby.”

Ethan chuckles. “Do you apologize for calling me a goddamn diva, as well? Don’t forget ‘entitled jackass’ and ‘spoiled child’.”

“You co-signed ‘spoiled child’ so I am not apologizing for it.”

“Fair point,” Ethan concedes.

Blindly searching with an outstretched hand, Naomi finds her cell phone and checks the time. She has to be at work in 2 hours, though she’d much rather get into Ethan’s bed and go to sleep.

“That happy medium that you mentioned? I think I have it figured out.”

Ethan raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Oh, yeah?”

“First and foremost, I promise to never go over your head again, if you agree to do a trial run on whatever ideas I may come up with. You can’t shoot me down immediately.”

“I’m...willing to agree to that.”

“And once this all settles down and the hospital isn’t on the verge of complete financial collapse, maybe we can convince the board to only take on one or two billable patients a quarter.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Yeah, I tend to have those every once in a while,” Naomi teases.

Ethan stares at Naomi as she laughs at her own poor joke. Everything about her is an anomaly to him. She blew into his life a little over a year ago and here he is, willing to adapt his entire ethical code for her. And here they are, entangled together as if he didn’t spend 2 months on a different continent in order to get her out of his head. What is it about her that he can’t shake?

He gently cups her jaw and kisses her as if she’s a precious gem, like he didn’t just try to devour her. “What are you doing to me?”

Naomi smirks, recalling that it’s the same question he asked her in Miami. “Hopefully something good.”

He kisses her again. “Better than good actually.”

Realization washes over her that once she leaves this apartment, things are going to go back to being the way they were. He’ll go back to pushing her away. “So does this mean you want to have another reset?”

The question throws him off, but he soon understands what she means. “No.”

“No?”

“No,” Ethan repeats. If there’s a happy medium to be found between his team and the board, maybe there’s one for him and Naomi.

She doesn’t allow herself to get swept up by his words, but instead she braces herself for the chance that he pulls the rug from under her feet. “Well, what does that mean?”

“It means you and I are going to take a shower together, go to work, and we deal with our obnoxious patient. And after work, you’re going to put on something fancy because I’m taking you out to dinner. How does that sound, Dr. Valentine?”

Naomi can’t stop an annoying grin from spreading across her face. “I think it sounds pretty damn good, Dr. Ramsey.”

#playchoices #open heart #dr ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ns*fw

514 notes · View notes

imnotwolverine · 4 years

Text

The marriage pact - London bits

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 14 | Part 15 London bits | Part 16 >

Disclaimer: some strong language

Author’s note: It was so much fun to do some actual research on Jersey’s history - even though it is only mentioned very briefly in this chapter.

Word count: 1.265

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

One can find and do many things on our Jersey island, its rich soil housing some 107.000 inhabitants. But as it appears, the world has more to offer than multi-horned sheep, lovely beaches and close knitted communities. Today I’m once more writing from the metropolitan city of London, my journey taking me to meet some ex-inhabitants of our beloved Jersey.

In this “Old Faces goes London”, I’ll be visiting a baker who decided to bring his infamous Jersey-rolls to the great City of London, a linguist who strives to keep Jèrriais (our territories unique Norman dialect) alive and I’ll be having a cup of tea with an exporter of Jersey’s very own apple cider. Yum!

And, as time is ticking I will now bid you all adieu. Or, to keep it in the Jèrriais realms;

À bétôt!

Ali

‘Morning.’ Henry pressed a kiss on my cheek while he brushed past me, his hands busy with making toast while I prepped some lunch boxes. It was 6 AM on a Tuesday and, though I was far from awake, I did admit that I felt quite happy being here, in Henry’s Mews kitchen.

In the far corner I could hear Kal hogging down some food after an even more ungodly early doggy walk - from which I thankfully had been spared - and before long the kitchen was filled with lovely scents and we were all enjoying our breakfast.

‘Sleep well?’ I said, keeping my voice down as the walls were rather thin. Henry nodded, cup of coffee hovering beneath his nose, cheeks dimpling with a tender smile. ‘Sure did. Though looks like you are STILL sleeping.’ He laughed. ‘Mmm... I’m very much enjoying this dream, thank you very much. So please, allow me.’

‘Then so I will. So what are you up to today?’ He took a hesitant sip of the far too hot drink, scrunching his nose as he nearly burned his tongue, then decided to put it down, his hands instead moving to cut into the toast, his egg all gooey perfection as it oozed out onto the plate. I could see Kal push his head on Henry’s lap, hoping that his puppy eyes were enough of a persuader to earn himself some bacon. But apparently it was just another part of their morning routine, Henry’s hand near automatically running through the Akita’s fur before returning to his breakfast, no bacon bits shared in the process.

Sweet bears.

‘Going to have an interview with that baker in a little over an hour, then visiting that publisher followed by some work calls. You?’

‘No baker interviews unfortunately,’ He smiled. ‘Just meetings. Meetings, meetings, meetings.’ Henry shrugged, obviously not looking forward to it. ‘Oh..What do you want to do for dinner by the way?’ He inquired.

‘Eh…eat food?’ I grinned, earning an exasperated look from him. ‘Hahah..sorry..but eh..let’s just cook something at home. Shall I cook or..?’

‘Cooking as home is good, sure. And, Ali, honestly..I’m not THAT traditional. Maybe let’s just say that the first person who gets home, cooks? That seems to be more fair.’ He said simply, hogging down onto another huge bite.

‘Very well then, my fair feminist knight.’ I winked, also cutting into my toast, my nose sniffing happily as the savoury scents drifted into my nostrils. Gosh, how nice it was to be with a man that could cook!

—

Still somewhat catching my breath from hurrying from meeting to meeting, I sat before one man called Charles Dunham, his golden nameplate shining proudly on his paper-filled mahogany desk. From the moment I had gotten into his office, it became clear that the old, fat cheeked man was most eager to get me on board; a good cup of coffee and some cookies were moved onto the last remaining bit of his space on his overcrowded desk and before I could even take my first sip of the welcome drink, the offer was already on the table.

‘Simply said; we adore your stories. And from a business point of view we see great potential. You have a solid fan base, and we recently released a similar storybook for adults that sold like hot buns on the Sunday market,’ He grinned happily, throwing three cubes of sugar in his coffee and mixing it with a freakishly small spoon. ‘So we are more than glad to develop this project with you.’

I blinked over the rim of the cup of coffee, hot steam raising up from the porcelain. HOLY DAMN! I let out a soft giggle and smiled. ‘My…alright then. I had expected to have to give you my sales pitch and perhaps a kidney or two. I mean, I even made a whole presentation, but this is far better. Thank you so much for your trust and enthusiasm Mr. Dunham, it truly means the world!’

Mr. Dunham chuckled. ‘And the world better be ready. How about we start editing a first version in the next few months, fine-tune a few things? Oh, and I did have one small question; are these based on actual people?’

‘Some are inspired by a mix of people I know, though all characters are definitely fictional in nature.’

‘Well, perhaps you COULD add a slight reference to Superman, since he’s from the Islands as well. Our readers would surely love that.’

I felt my stomach somersault again. Oh Mr. Dunham..if only you knew.

‘Haha..well. We might have to look into copyrights there, but it sure is true that we, I, adore our homeland hero.’ I winked.

—

Oh the homeland hero. I did adore him, indeed. In fact I craved him really.

The moment I had gotten back to Jersey I felt like I had left a piece of myself back with Henry. Suddenly the air was bleak and my parents house was not my home anymore, the large but comfortable house feeling like but a shell of what it had been just days earlier. And it got even weirder when I was laying in bed.

Here I was, alone, my hand outstretched to the spot where he would lay if we would sleep together. I even tried to sniff the pillow he had slept on, to see if any of his scent perhaps lingered there.

It didn’t.

It had been a strangely eventful day today. First the very early flight, a sleepy Henry - quite unique to find in the mornings - driving me to the airport. And then the near desperate hugs and kisses we shared, followed by a restless flight. And then I had to quickly drop off my stuff before heading to another doctors appointment. This time for one of a more invasive nature; a number of physical tests had to be performed so I could enlist for a sperm donor. My plan B. Just in case everything failed with Henry.

But, in all honesty, it felt more and more like a doom scenario I was increasingly less comfortable with. Did I want to become a single parent, if all of this failed? Was that really my dream? Or was a child just a result of something greater I truly wanted, something I had pushed away and hidden from my still beating heart. Did I actually want something quite different?

Did I want..eh..love, actually?

As I lay there looking at the ceiling, small glow-in-the-dark stars speckling the otherwise dark surface, I came to the bitter tasting realisation that I had not really taken into account that there was suddenly this extra person who had come into the equation. This person I had wild make-out sessions with on my parents couch, as well finding in him the person who offers a listening ear and who would consolidate me and be there during a doctors appointment.

He cared and was obviously not really wanting to leave. And I, to be even more honest with myself, well, I didn’t want him to leave either. I needed to keep him close and listen to him if I wanted this to last.

Rolling on my side I picked up my phone. 11.30 PM. He’d probably be sleeping now. I bit my lip and decided to text him, even if he’d only read it in the morning.

“I just tried to sniff the pillow but your scent is gone. I miss you😢”

Quite immediately a message returned. A selfie, taken with a flash in the starkness of a dark bedroom. Henry’s face sulkily grabbing onto a pillow. “That makes two. I miss you three!”

I giggled, silly bear, then imitated his picture, taking one myself, his pillow squeezed tightly in my arm, head resting on top. “Sweet dreams bear. I’ll keep your pillow safe.”

And then a little voice chat message came in, his silky deep voice filling my heart with joy; ‘Sweet dreams Ali.’

Oh sweet were my dreams indeed.

If only..if only he were here to share them with me.

General tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69

Fluff lovers squad: @star017 @perhaps2remember @pterodactylterrace @witchersqueen @desperate-and-broken @toomanyfandomsshreya @deliciouslysassyarcade @pamacs-macs @cavilladdict @scorpionchild81 @lebguardians @sofiebstar @amberbabem @mis-lil-red @aestheticqueenb @misslalaland-blog-blog @ilieherecharmed-fics2readnrec @michelehansel @henryfanfics101

Want to be added to or removed from the tag list? Shoot me a message!

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x OC #henry cavill x author #fluff #romcom #london #busy life #jerriais #london bites #the marriage pact

36 notes · View notes

jaxl-road · 4 years

Text

Cat Club

Nikki had only planned on yelling at the dude whose cat got his cat pregnant. He wasn’t expecting him to actually stick around.

Pairings: Nikki/Tommy

Warnings: None

~~~~

As the door clicked shut behind him, Nikki sighed heavily, flicking on the lights to illuminate the derelict house he called home. Walking further into the living room, he tossed a handful of papers onto the coffee table before gently placing the cat carrier in his grip on the ground. Releasing the latch on the carrier, Nikki flopped back onto the couch, pressing his fists into his eyes.

It only took a moment for a solid weight to land on his chest. Moving one hand, Nikki eyed the long-haired tabby staring back at him with one bright blue eye. Huffing, he picked the cat up, lifting her above his head so he could stare blankly up at her.

“You whore,” he deadpanned. “You dumb slut. How did this happen? I raised you better than this.”

The cat blinked at him.

Nikki groaned, “Goddammit, Holly, I can’t stay mad at you,” he grumbled, placing the cat back down onto his chest. Once released, she quickly curled up right beneath his chin, Nikki sputtering as long fur got in his mouth, but relaxing as the cat started purring against him. Stroking his pet softly, Nikki stared at the ceiling and contemplated his situation.

Why the fuck hadn’t he gotten her spayed?

Oh, that’s right, he thought as he turned to glance at the bill on the coffee table. It was because he was broke as fuck, and vets were expensive as hell, and even with a payment plan this single morning appointment was going to fuck up his budget for the next month at least. God, he was not equipped for this.

Suddenly, the cat on his chest perked up, sitting up and looking towards the back door. Turning to follow her gaze, Nikki sat up abruptly, sending the cat jumping away.

“YOU!!” He snarled, eyes locking with the sleek black cat pawing at the sliding glass door that led out into the overgrown box of space that had been called a backyard on craigslist. Lurching from his seat, Nikki stormed over to glare down at the animal, “This is your fault, I just know it,” he muttered. He had seen this cat hanging around before, and had seen it wandering in the yard with Holly a few times. Right on cue, the tabby trotted up to the window, meowing to be let outside.

Narrowing his eyes, he shooed her away, “Oh no, I don’t think so. You are grounded, young lady.” He turned back to the black cat still staring after his baby, eyeing the neon green collar around his neck, “Alright, let’s see who I need to fuck up,” he grumbled, unlocking the door and slipping outside. Kneeling down to try to read the cat’s tag, the cat darted out of his reach. Frowning, Nikki took another step forward, only for the cat to jump away again. Groaning, he threw his arms in the air, “Oh come on!”

In the back of his mind, Nikki knew it was ridiculous to go chasing after a cat that may or may not have gotten his own cat knocked up. But hey, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do today, and he really wanted someone to blame for all this, so fuck it. He was chasing this cat.

Of course, the cat had to lead him up the street, climbing the stupid steep ass hill Nikki lived on. Which was bad enough on its own, until the cat led him over the hill. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he looked down the street from the top of the incline. It was almost comical the way the two sides of the hill contrasted each other. On Nikki’s side, the houses were in various levels of disrepair, the street cracked and full of potholes, the occasional drug deal taking place nonchalantly outside of the drugstore on the bottom corner. Meanwhile, on the other side, the lawns were bright and well maintained, houses with fresh coats of paint and a fucking park at the bottom with happy families laughing and playing.

Figures his cat would shack up with an upper class feline. He was going to have words with her when he got home.

The upper class feline in question was sitting a few feet away, looking at Nikki lazily as if he was waiting for him. Nikki hated going into this neighborhood- he felt so out of place, with his shaggy black hair, piercings, tattoos, and tattered clothing that was held together with safety pins and spite. Even his fucking shoes were duck taped together. But he was determined, and so he approached the cat again, unsurprised but still annoyed when it once again kept a few feet in front of him.

However, it didn’t take long for the cat to trot into one of the yards, casting one last look at Nikki before darting in through a cat door installed in the front door. Steeling himself, Nikki stalked up to the door and pounded on it without hesitation. Even if he couldn’t shake the cat’s owner down for money, he at least wanted to vent some of his frustration and goddamn it he was going to let this person have it.

In all honesty, he was expecting some middle aged suburbanite who probably worked in a bank or something. So he was admittedly caught off guard when loud footsteps rushed to the door, throwing it open and revealing a kid who couldn’t be older than Nikki was. He was tall and lanky, long, dark brown hair flying wildly around his head, and a few tattoos dotting his arms. Tight leopard print pants left little to the imagination and it looked like he had probably owned that tank top since middle school.

All in all, not at all what Nikki was expecting.

“Hi!” The stranger looked surprised, but still smiled brightly, “Can I help you?”

For a moment, Nikki couldn’t seem to find his words. Then, his eyes drifted over his shoulder, glancing around the cluttered but spacious living room with pictures and posters on the wall and a tv surrounded by video games in the corner until his eyes landed on the creature that had led him here in the first place.

Fury reignited in him, he pointed accusingly past the stranger, “Is that your fucking cat?” he snapped out.

“Uh,” blinking in confusion, the other boy followed his hand to look at the cat in question, “yeah? Why?”

“Because that fucker got my cat pregnant!” Nikki exclaimed.

“What?! No way!” he looked between him and the cat in disbelief.

Narrowing his eyes, Nikki crossed his arms, “Is your cat a dude?”

“Yeah-”

“Is he fixed?”

“No, but-”

“Then guess what! I’m now dealing with a fucking vet bill and a knocked up cat all because your cat is a fucking tramp!”

The other man gasped, looking offended and appalled, “Excuse me?? Catrick Stewart has never done anything wrong in his life!”

Whatever comeback Nikki had planned was lost as he felt a record scratch in his brain. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath through his nose, “I’m sorry,” he spoke slowly, “what did you just say his name is?”

When he opened his eyes, the stranger had a bright blush on his face, but he still crossed his arms and huffed, “It is a strong name fitting for a cat of his level of refinement,” he insisted.

Nikki knew he was gaping, but he didn’t care. This day sucked and this confrontation wasn’t making him feel better like he hoped it would. He felt like the universe was laughing at him.

But then again, he thought to himself, what wasn’t the universe laughing at him?

“Oh my God,” he ran his hands through his hair, laughing with a tinge of hysteria, “I can’t believe I’m going to starve because my cat got knocked up by a fucking pun.”

The stranger frowned, face turning serious, “Wait, what?”

But Nikki ignored him, glaring as he pushed at his chest weakly, “Get your fucking cat fixed, you can obviously afford it,” he spat out. Turning on his heels, he stormed away, ignoring the voice calling after him. He practically ran home.

He didn’t understand it, but it felt like something fragile was cracking in his chest- a helplessness he hadn’t felt in a while. Or maybe, it occurred to him as he shut the door behind him, he had just been ignoring it. Leaning against the door, he slid down until he was sitting on the stained carpet, looking around him at the blank, cracked walls and water-damaged ceilings, the furniture he’d dragged out of alleyways before they could be hauled to a landfill, the crooked cabinet doors in the kitchen that hid a painful emptiness.

It’d been a long time since he felt this alone.

He didn’t even realize he was crying until a taste of salt hit his lips, and by then it was too late to hold it back. He just let the tears fall, because even though he was used to struggling by himself, it never got any easier.

Something soft and warm brushed against his side. Looking down, he saw Holly looking up at him, her one blue eye bright and warm. She crawled up onto his lap, and Nikki couldn't help but wrap his arms around her gently, burying his face in her back and letting his tears soak into the long, soft fur. He held her close, and she stayed with him, purring loudly against him until he felt ready to face the world again.

Sniffling, Nikki lifted his head, smiling shakily as he looked down at his companion.

“We’re gonna be okay, aren’t we, girl?” He whispered. She blinked up at him slowly, and he nodded, hugging her a little closer.

“Yeah. We’re gonna be just fine.

~~~~~~~~

“Mick, you’re a sketchy guy- do you know where I can sell a kidney?”

The smaller man paused, frozen mid-motion in cleaning the bartop, before slowly turning to narrow his eyes at Nikki.

“What are you, a cop? Fuck off.”

Nikki groaned, leaning heavily against the bar, “Mick, I’m serious. I’ve got a fucking vet bill to deal with and I’m still rationing food from when I needed to get my brakes fixed last month.”

Humming nonchalantly as he returned to his task, Mick glanced at Nikki out of the corner of his eye, wearing that expression he got when he wanted to convince you he didn’t care but he actually cared very much, “What happened? Holly get into a street fight or something?”

“Worse,” Nikki huffed, putting his chin in his hand, “she’s pregnant.”

Mick’s eyebrows flew up, “You didn’t get her spayed?”

“Don’t even start, I’m already kicking myself,” The conversation was cut short as a large group entered the bar, Mick and Nikki busying themselves serving drinks and already internally groaning at the rowdy kids that would surely only get more annoying the more they drank. Still, Nikki was on his best behavior- good tips were more important than ever.

By the end of the night, as the two bartenders finished cleaning up and breaking down the bar, Nikki was twelve kinds of tired.

Mick looked at him with sympathy. As much as he tried to be a hardass, he had always had a soft spot for the kid ever since he'd used a blatantly fake id to get a job at the bar nearly two years ago as a 20-year-old, “Hey, why don’t you take the next few Saturday shifts.”

Nikki looked up in surprise, “Really? Are you sure?” Saturdays were one of the busiest nights, and thus one of the heavier tip days.

“Yeah, why not,” Mick nodded, “You need ‘em more than me, and honestly I could use a few quieter weeks. My back has been killing me,” he grumbled.

Smiling sincerely, Nikki gave him a soft punch on the shoulder, “Thanks man, I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, now go take the fucking garbage out.”

~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Nikki was awoken by a familiar yowling next to his ear. Groaning, he pulled his pillow over his head, “Shut up, Holly, I’m not letting you out.” A weight settled on his back and the yowling got louder. Huffing, he sat up, Holly jumping off him and staring at him judgmentally.

He glared right back, “Hey, you’re the one who got knocked up. This isn’t even a punishment, I just can’t have you out there eating garbage when you’re eating for who-knows-how-many?”

Nikki hated the situation, and the next two months were going to involve a lot of financial gymnastics, and he was already frustrated beyond belief, but none of that changed the fact that he was going to do everything in his power to make sure his cat and her kittens were taken care of. Fuck feeding himself, he was switching her to namebrand cat food as soon as he went to the store.

Maybe she understood, because the yowling stopped, the tabby moving to curl up on Nikki’s lap. As he scratched her ears, she started purring contently. Nikki smirked, “Yeah, I love you too, bitch.”

Finally forcing himself to get up, he stretched his arms over his head as he made his way to the kitchen to get some coffee started and fill Holly’s food dish with fresh wet food. Once they both had their morning fix, Nikki wandered into the living room, dropping down onto the couch, stretching his legs in front of him and sipping his coffee slowly as he thought about his day.

His shift wasn’t until that night, and he really should go grocery shopping. But first he should actually look over that payment plan he’d signed up for at the vet’s office and recalculate his budget. He had a credit card payment coming up too, fuck. Finishing his coffee, he decided he could allow himself one more mug before cranking some tunes and tackling a plan for the next few weeks.

Suddenly, a loud banging noise had Nikki nearly jumping out of his skin. Shooting up, a voice called out.

“Hey! Dude!”

Turning towards the sliding glass door Nikki thought for sure he must be hallucinating. Because there was no other explanation for why he was seeing the lanky stranger he had harassed yesterday grinning and waving enthusiastically at him from outside the door, a familiar black cat pacing around his legs.

“Dude!” He gestured at two heavy looking paper bags he held in his arms, “Hey, let me in! I got something for you!”

Blinking slowly, Nikki waited for the hallucination to end. But when the other man didn’t disappear in dust and smoke, he stood slowly, creeping through the dim room towards the door, his eyes narrowed in suspicion at the sunlit stranger.

“How the fuck did you find out where I live?” He asked through the glass. He wasn’t just going to let this weirdo into his house without figuring out what the hell was going on.

“Oh, Catrick showed me,” he said casually, pointing at the black cat beside him. Grinning, he raised an eyebrow at Nikki, “That’s how you found out where I live, right?”

Nikki flushed. In his surprise and suspicion he had nearly forgotten that he had been the first one to show up unannounced on a stranger’s doorstep. He shook his head, crossing his arms with a huff, “Your fucking cat needs to learn not to give out personal information so easily.”

To his surprise, the man laughed, a bright and sunny sound that made something tighten in Nikki’s chest, but not necessarily in a bad way. “Yeah, he really does, the little shit,” he smiled down at the cat fondly. Turning back to Nikki, he was still smiling, but his voice was gentler, “But seriously, I have some stuff for you,” he nodded towards the bags in his arms, “Think of it as, like, child support!”

Barking out a surprised laugh, Nikki hesitated for one more moment before finally giving in. Shaking his head, he lifted the security bar from behind the door before flipping the latch, sliding the door open and standing back as the black cat darted inside followed by his owner.

Nikki couldn’t help but be a little self-conscious of his living situation, but he shoving the feeling back as the other man set the bags down on the kitchen counter before turning and holding his hand out with a wide smile.

“I’m Tommy by the way! We didn’t exactly exchange pleasantries yesterday,” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, taking the offered hand and shaking it firmly, “I’m Nikki.”

“Nice to meet you!” Tommy’s smile was practically blinding. Nikki’s kitchen had never been this bright, even when all the lightbulbs were working. “Anyway,” he continued, “I got you some groceries and stuff. I wasn’t sure if you had any food allergies or anything, so I got a bunch of different stuff, and anything you don’t want I’ll take. Same with cat food, if there’s like, a flavor or something you know she doesn’t like, Catrick eats pretty much anything.”

Nikki’s eyes widened as he looked through the bags. Bread, peanut butter, eggs, milk, apples, frozen vegetables, two bags of dry cat food and probably a dozen cans of wet food. There was more, but Nikki took a step back, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. It was one thing when he had to fight tooth and nail to get something from someone. Being just… given it? Filled him with guilt.

“Dude, you…” he cleared his throat, trying to keep his cool, “This is awesome, but you really don’t have to do this. I know I’m the one who showed up and yelled at you, but I was just blowing off steam, honest. You don’t have to do all this.”

He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but it’s not for Tommy to shrug nonchalantly, “I know, but I want to. It’s not fair for you to have to deal with a pregnant cat on your own when my cat is half responsible. So seriously, don’t worry about it.”

Normally, Nikki’s pride might prevent him from accepting something like this. But something about Tommy just felt so… sincere. It didn’t feel like charity or pity. Just some weird guy taking responsibility for his wayward cat. Nikki could respect that.

“Well… thanks,” he said, smiling as he gave Tommy a grateful pat on the shoulder.

“No problem,” he beamed. At that moment, Holly wandered into the kitchen, hopping up onto the counter to inspect the bags of food.

“Holly, no!” Nikki slid the bags away from her. The last thing he needed was his cat chewing up the first decent food he’d had in ages.

Tommy gasped excitedly, “Oh, is this the mama-to-be?” he reached out eagerly, but pulled his hand back just as fast when the tabby flattened her ears and hissed at him.

“Hollywood Riot Sixx!” Nikki scolded, putting his hands on his hips, “We do not hiss at the dude giving us bags of free food!”

Watching as the tabby jumped down to run back into the living room, Nikki shook his head with a huff. Turning back to Tommy, he found the other man with a hand over his mouth, clearly muffling laughter.

Nikki immediately narrowed his eyes, “What?”

Unable to hold it back anymore, Tommy burst into giggles, speaking as best he could between his laughter, “You-... her name is ‘Hollywood’? And her middle name is Riot??”

“Excuse me, your cat’s name is ‘Catrick Stewart’!” Nikki exclaimed, “At least her name is actually cool.”

“Catrick Stewart is very cool!” Tommy argued, trying to look serious, but still grinning.

Something about the easy way Tommy joked and laughed was infectious, and Nikki couldn’t help but smile too, “You fucking nerd,” he shook his head, something like fondness coloring his voice.

Perhaps having heard his name, Catrick trotted over and, to Nikki’s surprise, rubbed against his legs happily.

“Aw, he likes you!” Tommy grinned.

“He’s just trying to butter me up after he hooked up with my baby,” but even as he pretended to scowl, Nikki knelt down to scratch the cat under his chin. Glancing back up at Tommy, he impulsively offered, “Hey, do you want a beer or something? It’s the least I can do since you’re helping me out.”

“Uh, it’s like 11am?”

Nikki raised an eyebrow, “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Laughing, Tommy nodded, “Fair point. You know what? Sure. Honestly I could always use a drink.”

“Excellent,” Nikki went to the fridge to pull out two bottles, “I’m a bartender so alcohol is like, the one thing I can offer you.” Passing him his drink, they both moved into the living room where Nikki moved to sit on the couch. Almost immediately, Catrick hopped up onto his lap, rubbing his face against Nikki’s chin, drawing a startled laugh from him as he stroked the cat’s back.

Meanwhile, Tommy was kneeling in the center of the room, hand held out in careful determination towards Holly, who watched him suspiciously. Tilting his head as the tabby finally stepped forward to sniff his hand, he spoke up questioningly, “How’d she lose her eye?”

Shrugging, Nikki scratched the black cat on his lap under his chin, feeling a gentle purr against his legs, “I dunno. It was like that when I found her.”

“Oh, she was a stray?” Nikki nodded, and Tommy asked, “How’d you find her?”

“Um…” Nikki flushed with embarrassment, “Y’know, I just… found her wandering around,” he explained weakly. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that in truth, she had found him; that he had been a homeless teen sleeping in an alleyway and had woken up to a cat licking his hair and then she simply never left.

But Tommy accepted his halfhearted answer, grinning widely when Holly finally allowed him to scratch her ears, “There, see! I’m not so bad,” he cooed at her, “You gotta get used to me, I’m gonna be around for a while.”

Nikki nearly choked on his drink, “Come again?”

Turning to face him, the younger man pulled out the biggest puppy eyes Nikki had ever seen, “You’re going to let me help with her, right? Please let me help- She’s going to have kittens, Nikki! Kittens! Little baby furballs! I can’t miss that! Plus, Catrick deserves a chance to know his children!” He clasped his hands together, literally begging.

Which was hilarious to Nikki, because he had assumed that once the kid got his sense of responsibility and obligation taken care of, he’d be done and gone. But here he was, asking to be allowed to help.

What a weird dude.

Huffing out a laugh of disbelief, Nikki shrugged, “Hey, if it means that much to you, I’m not gonna stop you.”

Tommy cheered, which of course sent Holly jumping away. His disappointment quickly turned to exaggerated offense when she hopped onto the couch, curling next to Nikki and allowing him to pet both cats at once.

“No fair!” Tommy whined.

Nikki only smirked, “Suck it.”

~~~~~~~~~

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Tommy continued to stop by whenever he could, usually bringing little treats or toys for Holly, whose belly was slowly filling out, and restocking Nikki’s groceries every few days. With food taken care of, and working Fridays and Saturdays at the bar, Nikki actually managed to get all his bills paid on time, heaving a sigh or relief when the payments all cleared and his account wasn’t overdrawn.

He felt a little bad that there wasn’t more he could give in return, but Tommy seemed thrilled enough at getting free drinks, plus just being allowed to hang around, so he tried not to worry about it too much.

Weirdly enough, Nikki realized that he and Tommy were actually becoming friends. It didn’t fully hit him until he showed up at the bar during Nikki’s shift. At first he had assumed he was just cashing in on the free drinks he offered, but he insisted on paying, tipping him and Mick generously and hanging around for almost two hours just chatting and joking around. When he finally took off, waving enthusiastically as he did, Mick raised an eyebrow at Nikki.

“Well, you two are certainly getting… friendly.”

“Um, yeah, I guess,” Nikki replied in consideration, “Holly’s warmed up to him, so he can’t be that bad, y’know?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

Mick smirked, walking away to refill a guest’s drink, “Nothing at all.”

Nikki huffed, but Mick was always being weird, so he let it slide.

Things got a little more interesting a few days later. Despite Nikki’s house being a complete shithole, that was where he and Tommy mostly hung out, Catrick following him over to curl up with Holly who was still on house arrest. But on this evening, about an hour after Tommy had left, Nikki was listening to music and messing on his phone when he noticed something laying on the floor by the front door. Closer inspection revealed it to be a wallet with a driver’s license in it for one Tommy Lee.

Rolling his eyes at the absent minded boy, Nikki headed out to return the item. Walking to the other side of the hill and knocking on Tommy’s door, he figured it would only take a minute- just return the wallet and then head back home. No big deal.

That plan was thrown off the minute the door was opened by a short young man with blonde hair and bright white pants. For a horrifying moment Nikki was afraid he had knocked on the wrong door.

But before he could backtrack, the other man’s eyes brightened mischievously, “No way,” he drawled with a slow smirk, “You must be Nikki.”

Nikki crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes, “And who the hell are you?”

“Tommy never mentioned me? I’m hurt,” he put a hand over his heart dramatically, but he was still smiling, “I’m Vince, Tommy’s roommate, and the guy who’s been hearing all about you.”

Raising an eyebrow, Nikki’s voice was heavy with suspicion, “Excuse me?”

“Oh yeah,” Vince laughed, leaning against the doorframe, eyes glinting as he spoke, “he hasn’t shut up about you. Nikki this, and Nikki that. Fuck dude, I recognized you immediately just from how often he talks about all the things about you that make him h-”

As he spoke, Tommy suddenly rushed up behind him, frantically slapping one hand over Vince’s mouth while the other wrapped around his waist. Vince made a muffled noise of indignity as Tommy lifted him completely off the ground, the blonde flailing and struggling as Tommy laughed nervously, his face bright red.

“Nikki! Hi! What are you doing here? I hope Vince wasn’t bothering you too much hahaha.”

“Um…” Nikki looked between the two of them, “You left this at my place,” he held out the wallet.

“Oh! Thanks!” Tommy reluctantly set Vince back on the ground so he could take the item back.

“Right. Uh, I’ll see you then-” Nikki took a few steps back, still reeling from the whole situation.

Before he could get far though, Vince finally escaped, freeing himself to call out, “Hey dude! You should stick around a hang out! We were just gonna play some Mario Kart and it gets boring kicking Tommy’s ass all the time.”

Without even thinking, Nikki snorted, “Oh, so you wanted to get your ass kicked instead?”

“Oh, Tommy, I like this guy,” Vince grinned, elbowing the still flushed Tommy in the side. With that, the two roommates ushered Nikki inside.

“I would have invited you over sooner,” Tommy shrugged, “But someone can be a little bitch sometimes, so-” he glared petulantly at the blonde, who merely laughed and flipped him off.

Keeping his word, Nikki did indeed kick Vince’s ass at Mario Kart. The demand for a rematch turned into the three boys breaking out some beers and rifling through their collection for more games that Vince could challenge him to. Tommy was careful to always sit between Nikki and Vince, always ready to smother the smaller boy mid sentence every now and then. Nikki didn’t get it, but apparently the two of them were high school buddies, so maybe it was just some weird inside joke.

“You know, it’s Vince’s fault I never got Catrick fixed,” Tommy complained at one point.

“Oh please, you can’t keep blaming me for that!” Vince shoved his shoulder.

But Tommy continued, “I was going to, honest! But then this fucker started going on about ‘how would you feel if someone chopped your nuts off in your sleep?’ and I just couldn’t do it!”

“Oh my God,” Nikki pinched the bridge of his nose, “Just for that, I’m going to chop your nuts off in your sleep.”

“No!!”

Vince howled with laughter.

When Nikki finally left, pleasantly buzzed and having played video games he didn’t even know existed, Vince waved his fingers at him, “Don’t be a stranger now~.” Tommy blushed next to him and quickly shoved him back into the house. Nikki just shook his head and hiked back to his side of the hill.

Weird dudes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Before either of them knew it, six weeks passed, until one morning Nikki was frantically calling Tommy.

“Dude, I think it’s happening!”

Tommy ran to his house in record time.

One of the gifts Tommy had brought along earlier in the month had been a plush cat bed, which Holly had immediately dragged into one of the empty cupboards under the sink in the kitchen. That was where she was now.

“She was pacing around and meowing like crazy earlier,” Nikki explained, crouching in the corner of the kitchen and looking into the open cupboard anxiously.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it!” Tommy knelt down beside him. On the counter above them was a bowl of warm water, a towel, and a few old t-shirts. Both of them had looked up everything they could to try to be ready for this day. Now all they had to do was wait.

So they waited.

And waited.

Holly shifted around on her bed, and they could see her stomach clenching, but nothing was happening.

Biting his lip, Tommy turned towards Nikki, “Dude…”

Nikki was chewing on his nails as he shook his head, “It’s not supposed to take this long.”

“Maybe it was a false alarm? Maybe she’s not actually in labor yet?” Tommy’s voice was unconvincing even to his own ears.

Standing abruptly, Nikki practically ran to grab his phone, “I’m calling the vet.”

Half an hour later, he was gently loading Holly into her cat carrier and Tommy was volunteering to drive. Nikki gave him directions absently, staring down at the carrier in his lap and whispering soothing words to the cat within it. When they arrived, luckily the office wasn’t particularly busy, so Nikki was able to go in right away, leaving Tommy waiting anxiously in the waiting room. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes when the other man returned, but to Tommy it felt like ages.

“Hey, is she alright?” He asked as he jumped to his feet.

Nikki was tapping his fingers against his legs rapidly as he answered, “They’re going to try to assist her, and hopefully she won't need surgery or anything, but…” he trailed off with a shrug.

Tommy nodded and tried to smile encouragingly, “Hey, I’m sure she’ll be fine. She’s in good hands now, yeah?”

“Yeah…” Nikki replied softly. Then he turned and walked towards the door, “I need a smoke.”

As he left, Tommy followed after him, figuring he definitely wouldn’t mind a smoke right now either. Standing a few feet away from the building, they both lit up their cigarettes, smoking in silence for a few minutes. Tommy was about halfway through his first cigarette when Nikki was moving on to his second.

Looking at the other man in concern, Tommy spoke softly, “Hey. Are you alright?”

Exhaling shakily, Nikki clenched his eyes shut as he ground out, “No.”

He shoved his cigarettes back into his pocket as he turned to face Tommy, face caught somewhere between frustration and sorrow, “No, I’m not fucking alright, Tommy! That’s-” his voice cracked, and he scrubbed his hands over his face roughly, “That’s my cat. And... and she’s all I’ve got,” he admitted softly, “It’s been just the two of us for so long. She's the only thing that’s kept me from losing my fucking mind through all the endless bullshit! Because even when I had fucking nothing at least I had Holly, y’know? And now…” he dropped his head, hands shaking at his side as he whispered, “I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to her.”

Part of him was ashamed when he felt tears start dripping down his face, and he half expected Tommy to start laughing at him. But instead, he felt long, lean arms wrap around him, pulling him into a warm, firm chest.

“She’s gonna be fine, dude,” Tommy whispered into his hair, rubbing his back softly even as he tightened his grip on the other man, “And even if something happened… you’re not alone, man. You’re not dealing with this on your own anymore.”

Nikki choked out a sob and then he couldn’t hold back anymore, reaching out to cling desperately to Tommy’s back, allowing himself to be held together by someone else for the first time in a very, very long time.

And Tommy let him, only hesitating for the briefest moment before placing a soft kiss on his wild black hair.

“We’re in this together now, dude. I’m right here with you, no matter what.”

~~~~~~~~~

Forty-five minutes later, when Nikki was called back into the office, he laced his fingers with Tommy’s and tugged him along with him.

~~~~~~~~~

“Vince, help me out here! Nikki keeps shooting down all my name ideas!”

“He wanted to name one of the girls ‘Catricia’!”

“We agreed that you would name the boys and I would name the girls!”

“I have to step in! Think of the children, T-Bone! They’re going to get bullied by all the other cats!”

“Oh my God, you two are worse than middle aged married couples,” Vince laughed, dangling a string with a feather on the end in front of one of the more adventurous kittens, luring it towards him with a wide grin.

Tommy had spent every possible moment of the last two weeks at Nikki’s house with the kittens. The previously empty home now felt full, with Catrick and Hollywood curled up together on a large cat bed with their kittens around them. Holly had given birth to four pitch black kittens, two boys and two girls. It was hard to tell so early, but it looked like three of them would be long hair, with one of the girls being short hair. One of the boys was crawling around Vince to bat clumsily at the colorful toy.

As for the other three…

“Mick, this is ridiculous, it’s like they’re perfectly camouflaged on you!”

The older man barely suppressed a grin. He was wearing all black, as he usually did, and the result was that at certain angles it was difficult to see the three kittens crawling around in his lap, “At least I won't have to worry about using a lint roller or some shit,” he grumbled.

“That’s actually not a bad strategy. I still can’t believe Vince still wears white after living with Catrick for so long.”

“Some of us are dedicated to our style!”

Laughing, the four men hung out for a few more hours, eventually leaving the cats alone to curl up together and rest while they drank and argued about everything from music to cat names. Eventually, Vince had to leave for work, giving Tommy a pat on the back and a wink on his way out, but Nikki was used to his weird shit by now. Mick decided to head out soon after, but before he did, he pulled Nikki aside.

“What are you guys planning on doing with the kittens, anyway?”

Nikki shrugged, “Well, they have to stay with Holly until they’re like, ten weeks old or some shit. After that, I dunno, probably post fliers and try to find some good homes for them.”

Mick nodded quietly. Then, after a long moment of silence, he looked up, “Can I have them?”

Nikki felt his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, “You want them?”

“Yeah.”

“All of them?”

“Yeah.”

“...Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“...You’re not going to like, use them for a ritual or something are you?”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Mick rolled his eyes.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Nikki laughed, holding his hands up in surrender, “It’s just surprising is all. But sure, man. Once they’re old enough they’re all yours. It’s perfect cause then I get to come over and bug you all the time to visit them,” he smirked.

“I knew telling you where I lived was a bad idea,” Mick grumbled, but he still looked pleased.

After he left, Nikki told Tommy about the new development, and the lanky boy threw his arms up in excitement, “Fuck yes! Now we don’t have to give them to strangers! And we can visit them all the time!”

“That’s what I said!” Nikki laughed as Tommy crashed into him in an enthusiastic hug. Ever since the day at the vet, they’d been closer than ever, hugging and goofing off and spending most of their free time together. Nikki didn’t even stress when he got the second vet bill- he knew he wasn’t dealing with it alone.

So maybe he should have been less surprised when Tommy pulled back just enough to kiss him firmly on the lips.

Still, he certainly wasn’t surprised when he found himself kissing back.

When they finally broke to breathe, they both couldn’t help but laugh giddily. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day we met,” Tommy admitted.

“The day I followed your cat to your house and yelled at you?” Nikki raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re hot when you’re angry.”

“Oh shut up!”

“Make me.”

Nikki kissed him again. And again, and again, and ran his fingers through his hair, and convinced him to spend the night. They laid on the couch tangled in each other's arms, and Nikki didn’t think he’d ever felt less alone then he did in that moment, with the sound of Tommy’s heartbeat under his ear and the occasional patter of little paws in the dark.

#Poor terrorcest has been so neglected by me lately lol #I'm not actually particularly happy with this but sometimes you just got to let it go #Motley Crue #terror twins #terrorcest #nikki/tommy #Nikki Sixx #tommy lee #my writing

130 notes · View notes

emerald-dragonflame · 3 years

Text

Evergreen's Leit First Draft (Ch 1-5)

HEY! Y’all wanna see the first 5 chapters of Evergreen’s Leit? No? WELL TOO BAD, here they are anyways!

(note: this is very much a first draft, and things are liable to change drastically from the final product. Any constructive criticism is always welcome~)

(Also it's a lot shorter than it looks, sorry in advance)

Chapter 1

Scene One: The Village

(Start with a panning shot of The Village, see young Centaurs playing, women making clothing, tanning hide, and using a large mortar and pestle (the ones usually pulled by mules) being pulled by one of the larger Centaurs.

Cut to the Angakkuq’s (Shaman’s) Hut, we see Tali checking his arrow tips, Taqtu, his father and Angakkuq, pats him on the shoulder. )

Taqtu

(tiredness in his voice)

Taliriktug, don't tell me you’re going out. We still have work to do.

Taliriktug

Yes, father, I am. (Gives a small smile) Is it too much to ask for you to call me by my nickname, instead?

Taqtu

A “nickname” isn’t your name. Besides, yours is a strong one. (Gives a shit eating grin) It should get a strong woman for you to marry. (*Taliriktug means strong armed man)

Tali

(facepalming)

Centaurian women do not marry a man for his name, father. (Gives Taqtu a deadpan stare) Otherwise, mother would have never married you.

Taqtu

(looking offended)

Taqtu is a perfect name for me! She knew exactly what she was getting into! (*Taqtu means Kidney)

Tali

(Laughs)

(Tali begins picking up his gear. His father stops him again. Placing a hand on Tali’s shoulder once more. )

Taqtu

I’m serious, though. Help me with these herbs first and then you can go hunting. The sun’s still out.

Tali

(mildly exasperated)

Can you not smell that, father? There is a storm coming, and we are in need of more food before winter comes. (Pushes father’s hand off) I can learn more medicine later, but for now, we should worry about not starving to death.

(Taqtu sighs, then nods.)

Taqtu

Alright, Taliriktug. I can’t keep you it seems. Just, please come back before dark. The Gods are angrier than usual.

Tali

Will do. I am sure the Gods will not refuse us food because they're (ahem) pissy.

Taqtu

(deadpan)

Keep speaking like that and they just might. (Waves his hand) Just go.

(Tali nods and leaves the hut. He inhales and exhales with a smile, looking around his Village. The same children from the beginning run in front of Tali, almost tripping him and making him exclaim in surprise.

He chuckles, watching the little ones play without a care in the world.)

Tali

(thinking)

*Someday…*

(He carries on into the woods.)

Scene 2: The Woods

(Tali walks alone in a mildly dense forest. He notices deer tracks and begins to follow them. Raising his head to see if he could smell it. )

Tali

(Grunts) Too far away… for now…

(He continues to follow the path of the deer. The “camera” showing him in different places in the woods. He raises his nose to the sky once more to finally catch a scent.)

Tali

(Gives a toothy grin) I have you now.

(Tali begins to trot a little faster. Bringing him closer and closer to the coast. There is a wide shot from above showing the woods and coast. “Pan” to said coast.)

Scene 3: The Coast

(Meara sits alone on a large rock facing towards the ocean [*Make her look to the right, not left, the coast is to the East here, not the West] , her eyes are obscured by her hair. She looks melancholic as she hums to herself.)

Scene 4: The Woods

(Tali is seen kneeling next to a recently killed doe. The arrow he shot her with still stuck in her side. He is tying the deer’s hooves together, but stops for a moment.

Tali leans closer to its ear. )

Tali

(whispering)

Thank you, your sacrifice is not in vain.

(He finishes tying the doe up when he hears Meara’s singing. Confused, Tali listens intently. It’s in Celtic making him not understand, but he’s drawn to it.

Throwing the deer over his back, and he follows the sound. Through the tree brush, he sees Meara, and instantly is intrigued.)

Tali

(whispering)

Who… are you?

End of Chapter

Chapter 2

(Losing focus for a second, he steps on a stick, making a resounding SNAP. Meara turns, spear in hand.)

Meara

(threatening)

Who’s there! Show ye-self, and I might not shank ye teh death!

(Amused, Taliriktug steps forward. Lifting his hands in submission.)

Tali

(softly)

Calm down, miss. I am not going to harm you. Please, put the spear down.

(Meara is reluctant, but obliges. Looking Tali up and down as she does.)

Meara

(trying to sound threatening)

Who are ye? I thought there weren’t any Mystics living anywhere near here, much less Centaurian Mystics.

Tali

I could say the same for you, not many people wear things like that here (motions towards her dress) or have such a strange accent.

(Meara harrumphs, almost like a laugh)

Tali

The name is Taliriktug, by the way, but I would prefer it if you simply called me Tali.

Meara

Well then… Tali… what possessed you to come over to the shore?

Tali

I heard you singing, I believe. I was out hunting, as you can see (points to his kill), it wasn’t anything like I’ve heard before, so I was curious. I would say, it was a smart decision.

Meara

Ah, I see.

Tali

Forgive me, M’lady, but you have yet to tell me your name.

Meara

(deadpan)

Ye call me “m’lady” ever again and I’ll shove this spear straight up your ass.

Tali

(slightly worried)

Eh, heh… my apologies…

Meara

Teh name’s Meara, Meara O’Sullivan

Tali

Well, Miss O’Sullivan, might I ask where you might be from?

Meara

Give me one good reason why I should tell ye anyt’ing?

(Tali lays down on the snow, using his hand to convince Meara to sit as well. She obliges.)

Tali

It is pretty obvious you are not local, my apologies if you were trying to hide that fact--

Meara

I wasn’t.

Tali

(nods to her)

Good to know, because people out here are less than kind to outsiders. You were honestly quite lucky.

Meara

Because ye found me first, dear Hunter?

Tali

Do not take this the wrong way, Miss O’Sullivan, but you do seem like an easy target. Those clothes that you wear would fetch quite a pretty penny. Not only that, but if you have not noticed, there is a mighty storm brewing.

Meara

Aye, I know of teh storm. (Sigh) look, I’m waitin’ for my family t’ come get me. (Quickly stands up) “Easy target” or not, I should be leaving soon anyways, thank ye for your concern.

Tali

And I would not doubt that. However, if I might be so bold, if your family was smart, they would wait until the storm passes.

(Look to Meara, she is obviously a bit uncomfortable.)

Tali

A-and I cannot, in good conscience, leave someone to weather a storm, when I, and my family, have room to help you.

(Tali gets up and reaches out his hand, a gentle smile appearing on his face.)

Tali

I know that you have no reason to really trust me, as we just met, but I have nothing to give you, other than my word.

(Meara looks down at his hand for a moment, not knowing what to do)

Meara

(sly smile on her face)

Ye know that just makes me worried about your intentions… big hunter of a man coming out of teh woods, makes a lady worry for her safety~

Tali

(Meep) Ah, that was not what I was--

Meara

(laughing)

I know, I know, relax. It’d be really silly to try and do something like that when we’re already alone.

Tali

Y-yes… (thoughts: Though, I could do this just to gain your trust, but best not bring that up…)

Ah (ahem) does that mean you will come to my village? Or must I make a grand gesture?

(Meara sighs)

Meara

Will ye force me if I say no?

Tali

No, but I would be very worried for you

(Meara takes a moment to think it over)

Meara

Fine. But I’m takin’ me spear if ye try anyt’in’ stupid.

Tali

Fair enough.

End of Chapter

Chapter 3

Scene 1: the Woods

(Tali and Meara begin to walk towards the Village. They are silent for a few panels then Meara comments on the deer on Tali’s back.)

Meara

Is that for your family?

Tali

(smiling)

Mostly. We share the meat and other things we might not need with the rest of the Village, but most of it is me and my family’s.

Meara

(nodding)

Ah, I see

Tali

I am curious, Miss O'Sullivan--

Meara

Please, just “Meara”. Ye already talk formal enough, no need to lay it on so thick…

Tali

(Is quiet for a moment)

I am sorry, but I do not feel comfortable calling you that yet… I hope you do not take offense.

Meara

… Says he wishes to be called by a nickname, and yet is uncomfortable calling me by my given name? A strange man you are, Tali.

Tali

While that may be true, I can understand how my name can be a mouthful. As I was about to ask, however, might I ask where you are from? Your accent, it is something I have never heard before.

Meara

I’m from Ireland. It’s a small country ‘cross the pond. I was dropped off here a little while ago.

Tali

(perplexed)

You and your family… took a boat across the ocean to here…? And left you?

Meara

(offended)

They didn’t leave me. I stayed here on my own volition!

Tali

But why?

(Meara doesn’t answer, leaving Tali hanging. He sighs and drops the subject.)

Tali

My Village is just over that hill.

(He walks a little faster to get to the top of the hill. Waiting for Meara to show the big reveal. Meara catches up)

Tali

(smiling)

I promise, you’ll feel right at home

(Tali uses his hand to push away some evergreen leaves to show off his home. Meara looks down, and her eyes sparkle at the lovely little village near the sea.)

Tali

Welcome to my home!

Scene 2: The Village

(In the Village, Meara and Tali walk through its pathways. Meara is almost mesmerized by this little town. Tali, almost as mesmerized by her as she is of the town. He gently smiles down at her as her head is on a swivel.)

Meara

Wow, everything is so close and small!

Tali

(Raising an eyebrow)

And that surprises you?

Meara

I’ve lived in a large city for most of me life, so this is new to me.

Tali

Where?

Meara

Waterford… I bet you can only guess where that is, hehe

Tali

(Raises an eyebrow)

… I see

(From behind the “camera”, Tali’s mother, Alasie, can be heard. )

Alasie

Tali-baby? Are you back from hunting already?

(Both Tali and Meara turn to see the polar bear centaur. Harpoon in one hand, and ringed seal in the other.)

Tali

(A big smile appears on his face)

Mother! Seems you are as well, I’m glad to see you-

(Alasie grabs him in a sudden bear hug) Oof!

Alasie

Wonderful dear, I keep forgetting how much you’ve grown

Tali

(Completely embarrassed)

M-mother!

(She stops, noticing Meara giggling at the two of them)

Alasie

(Confused, gently pushes Tali away)

Tali-baby, who’s this?

Meara

(Completely deadpanned)

Teh name’s Meara O’Sullivan, miss. Ye son just happened to have kidnapped me and is holding me here against me will…

Tali

(Panicking)

W-WAIT, THAT IS NOT-!

Meara

(Wide smile)

I’m kiddin’, I’m kiddin’, calm down, ah haha

Alasie

(Is quiet for a moment, but starts Boisterous laughter)

I like this girl, Tali! She’s got spunk (smacks Tali on the back)

(Tali let’s himself laugh and relax a bit)

Tali

Honestly, I was worried you really thought that. (Gestures at Alasie) this is my mother, and the wife of our village’s Angakkuq, Alasie

Alasie

A pleasure, my dear, eh heh. Not very many people are able to make me laugh like that

(Meara gestures to shake Alasie’s hand, but she gives her a confused look, so she puts it down)

Meara

Angakkuq?

Tali

Mm… I think the English word is Shaman… a medicine man and spiritual teacher, among other things

Meara

Oh, that’s… actually really interesting

Alasie

So, Meara, you’re not from here, I’m pretty sure, so what’s brought you to our quaint little village?

Meara

Short version? I’m just here for teh view. Was waitin’ fer my family te come pick me up, till this lad (points with thumb at Tali) showed up, tellin’ me there’s a big storm brewin’ and wanted te be all chivalrous and shit.

(Meara shrugs and shakes her head)

Meara

It’d just be rude of me at that point te say “no”. I’m just glad ye lad didn’t lead me to my death or what have ye (she looks back at him and smiles) I’d say he’s quite disarming, eh?

(Tali blushes as she said that. Placing a hand behind his head. Alasie smiles, placing a hand on her mouth, she realizes what’s going on.)

Tali

Disarming? Well, I would not say that…

Alasie

Meara, dear

Meara

(Turns to Alasie)

Aye?

Alasie

Where on Earth is your coat? It’s almost below freezing out here, I’m certain humans aren’t built for such weather

Meara

(Looks down at her arms) ah, well, teh cold’s never really bothered me. Don’t worry ‘bout it

Alasie

Well, I must insist you come with me

(Alasie grabs Meara’s arm and pulls her away. Meara tries to protest, but is pulled towards a hut.)

End of Chapter

Chapter 4

Scene 1: The Hut

(In the hut, we see Alasie shifting through her drawers, trying to find clothing more suited to winter weather)

Alasie

So, Meara, I don’t have to many things that would fit humans, but I might have something that you can wear for a little bit

(Meara lifts her hands, as if to try and stop her)

Meara

N-no, I promise, ye don’t have te worry ‘bout me

Alasie

Hush, (pulls out a pastel pink coat) here we go, I have a little “niece” farther down south. She comes up here on occasion, and this was supposed to be a gift to her the next time she came around.

(Alasie turns towards Meara, a big smile on her face)

Alasie

But I’m sure she won’t mind you using it while you’re here

Meara

(Big sigh)

Ye’re not gonna stop till I take teh coat, are ye?

Alasie

(Suddenly very serious)

I don’t care how insulated you think your body is. You can’t take chances like that up here. Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t started suffering from hypothermia yet…

Meara

I’m just full of mysteries, ain’t I? (She grabs the coat, and puts it on. She doesn’t seem too pleased. It’s too tight, and small) I hope ye don’t take offense from me stayin’ here for a night.

Alasie

If you’re asking if I trust you, then yes, I do mind

(Meara looks at her stunned, but tilts her head in confusion)

Meara

I’m not sure what ye-

Alasie

The only reason you’re alive right now is because my son brought you to our home. If you couldn’t tell, it was quite hidden, wasn’t it?

Meara

(Thinking, worried look on her face)

Honestly, I’ve been here for almost a month, and had no idea there were even people here. But I think I’ll keep that to me self*

Alasie

The fact that Tali trusts you means something to us. He’s quite sceptical of outsiders, and it’s a bit unusual for him to blatantly just let you in here. So why?

Meara

(Offended)

Why? Fuck, I don’t know! I didn’t ask him if that’s what’cha implyin’. He just came up t’ me while I was waitin’ fer me family near teh ocean

Alasie

So why were you near the coast? Why are you so far up north? Why did you go with my son, not knowing what his intentions were? There are a lot of things here not adding up, Miss O’Sullivan.

(Meara looks floored for a moment, but then composes herself)

Meara

Those first two questions I am not comfortable answerin’, Miss Alasie. But I can give you me word that they are not nefarious. As for me trustin’ your son…

(She stands a little bit taller)

Meara

It would be stupid for him to lure me away from an already unpopulated area te hurt me. That coast is pretty out of the way, he could have just left me body there and let teh birds eat me. But honestly, I could just tell he wasn’t like that

Alasie

So you just trusted a man you didn’t know? The woods would have been better to dispose of a body. There’s something you aren’t telling me…

Meara

Things that are completely inconsequential. I’m here, I’m not dead, and I’m not plannin’ on hurtin’ anyone, or tellin’ anyone about this place. If you’re that worried, I can just leave. This was all you’re son’s idea, and ye can ask him

Alasie

(Sigh) No, Tali is the type to start to worry. Especially since it seems he’s started to fancy you-

Meara

(A little too quickly)

I have no interest in your son, so ye have nothin’ te worry about there.

(There is a moment of silence…)

Alasie

(Sigh) I want to believe my son is a good judge of character…

pray you don’t disappoint me.

(Meara Gulps and nods, worry spread on her face)

Alasie

Good. (She gets up) The Village trusts both me and Tali. So they’ll be kind to you. You’ll be expected to work for your food, but nothing you can’t handle I’m sure. (Passes Meara and turns to her) I’m assuming you can sew.

Meara

(Shakes from her daze, looking determined)

Aye! I can, I’m also a good cook and storyteller if ye need any of those.

Alasie

(Smile returning to her face)

We’ll make an Inuit out of you yet

Scene 2:The Village

(Outside of the hut, Meara breathes in a sigh of relief. She watches Alasie walk away)

Meara

(Thoughts)

*Ooookayyy, don’t piss off momma bear, she’ll tear your head off…*

(Meara’s contemplation is interrupted by the sound of what seemed like brotherly arguing from behind another hut)

Oki

(Shocked)

Wait, what!? You brought a girl here? Is she hot?

(A loud smack is heard, while we only see Meara’s reaction, wide-eyed and shocked. She finally goes around the hut to see Oki (Tali’s older brother) and Tali talking to each other. Oki rubbing the back of his head)

Oki

(Groaning, a comically large bump placed on the back of his head)

What was that for?!

Tali

(Annoyed)

You do not ask that about women, you cretin… (he face palms) I honestly cannot believe we’re related sometimes…

Oki

(Rolling his eyes)

Like you have room to talk

Meara

Related?

(Tali and Oki jump at her voice, they turn to face her)

Tali

Miss O’Sullivan! I did not hear you leave the hut

Meara

That’s cause I didn’t want ye t’. And ye don’t answer my question

(Oki elbows Tali hard in the stomach, making him groan and then growl at Oki. Tali’s older brother give Meara a sly smile, bowing deeply)

Oki

My deepest apologies, our honored guest, seems Tali forgot to tell you of me, (his smile becomes more malicious) my little brother is quite the uncouth bastard once you get to know him

(That’s for calling me a cretin, bitch boy)

Meara

(Flabbergasted)

Little? Brother? Wait, what? But… (she looks at both they’re animal half’s, completely dumbfounded) How?

(Tali tilts his head in confusion)

Tali

(Confused)

Do you not know about Centaurian biology?

(Meara shakes her head, staring intently at both of them, as if they both grew two heads)

Tali

I guess it is not very well known, very well, I shall tell you. It--

Oki

The spirits choose which animal we’re gonna be, not our parents.

Tali

(Glaring at Oki)

Yes… while our “human” faces and bodies are pulled from our parents (he looks back to Meara) our “animal” bodies rarely, if ever, follow what our parents are.

Meara

Then how come ye mum is a polar bear like ye?

(Oki tries to begin to speak, but is shot down by Tali’s intense glare)

Tali

I am… a rarity, so to speak. While not normal, it is still possible for a Centaur to gain one of their parents' spirits. I believe most think it is personality based, among other things…

Meara

(Deadpan)

So what ye sayin’ is; ye haven’t a clue why it happens

(Tali is completely caught off guard by that statement, but Oki smiles happily)

Oki

(Laughing)

I like this girl! She’s got quite the sense of humor, for a human.

(Meara smiles uncomfortably, Tali notices, but decides not to say anything)

Meara

Ah… so… where am I stayin’?

End of Chapter

Chapter 5

(Meara is led to another small home, larger than the others, she looks up at Tali and he smiles)

Meara

I thought that little hut back there was ye’re home?

Tali

(gentle laughing)

No, no Ms. O’Sullivan, that was our storage hut, it would be perfect for a single person to live, but not a family of four. That would be quite cramped.

(Meara nods in understanding)

Meara

Oh… yeah… I didn’t see a bed in there either, so I guess it makes sense, silly me

Oki

Though, I hope ya don’t mind helping us with taking care of Tali (and maybe mom’s) kill?

Meara

(nods)

Sure, what do I have t’ do?

Oki

Then this might get a little messy…

(Cut to behind Tali and Oki’s home, where we see a tanning rack, a bloody table, and several different types of knives hanging off the house’s wall.

Meara looks a little distraught, both Oki and Tali putting on already bloody aprons, and handing her one. Meara gives a worried look)

Tali

Are you alright, Miss O’Sullivan? Have you never gutted a deer before?

(Meara shakes her head)

Oki

It’s not as bad as it looks, Hot Stu--

(A knife comes flying at Oki’s head, cutting him off and forcing him to dodge the flying cutlery. He looks back to see Tali giving him a look that could kill)

Tali

You speak like a low-life degenerate, Oki…

(Meara’s eyes bulge out of her head)

Meara

Are ye mad?! Ye could‘ave killed ‘im!

Tali

Worry not. While my brother is a low-life, the knife was not going fast enough for him not to notice.

Oki

Yeah… if he wanted to kill me, he wouldn’t have made it so obvious, heh.

Meara

*Thinking: I’m startin’ t’ think this was a bad idea… these lads are crazier than me grandaddy during teh war…*

Meara

… While that… may be teh case, please refrain from trying to kill each other while I’m here. It makes me worry…

Tali

As you wish, you need not worry about that.

Oki

(sneaks up to Tali’s ear to whisper)

Lap-dog~

(while promising to refrain from trying to kill him, Tali still doesn’t hesitate to try and bite Oki’s face. Oki, of course, dodges again, and begins to work on a different animal on another table. Leaving Meara and Tali to deal with the deer.

Tali respectfully clears his throat while Meara finishes putting on the apron)

Tali

Please do not hesitate to tell me if you become uncomfortable.

Meara

Don’t worry about it, I’ve been guttin’ fish for teh past month… It’s just a big fish, right?

Tali

Sure, we can go with that…

(for the next couple of panels we see Meara and Tali take care of his deer. One showing them having a little fun, and another of Meara puking in a bush, presumably due to the guts hanging off the table, Tali’s hand placed on her back trying to make her feel better.

After a minute, there is nothing, but clean cut venison on the table, and both Meara and Tali looking pleased with themselves. The sun’s set in the last panel)

Meara

Well, that wasn’t too bad, heh…

End of Chapter

#my writing #evergreen's leit #first draft #taliriktug #meara o'sullivan #fantasy #centaur #selkie #comic script #writblr

1 note · View note

swanqueeneverafter · 4 years

Text

Sins of the Past Pt.23

Giant Campsite. (Andre begins whistling a tune.) Dwarf Campsite. (Richard continues the tune and adds a few finger snaps.) Richard: ♪ Let's go and pop a few Giants ♪ Dwarf 1: ♪ Kick some Gargantuan butt ♪ Dwarf 2: ♪ Hack out those huge knobby kneecaps ♪ All Dwarfs: ♪ And make them keep their big mouths shut ♪ ♪ Someone ♪ ♪ Has got to cut them down to size ♪ ♪ Someone ♪ Richard: ♪ And we're the ones who will climb them ♪ ♪ And slap their fat faces ♪

Storybrooke. Main Street. (Now back in their own clothing, Xena, Gabrielle, Regina and Emma speak with Tiana covertly at her food truck. Alice cheerily offers Xena a beignet, which after some hesitation, the warrior princess tries and devours quickly.)

Regina: "Is everything in place?" Tiana: (Nods:) "I've spoken with Jasmine and Merida, we're as ready as we can be." Emma: "You just got back from Wonderland, right? Did you happen to see Will and Ella?" Tiana: "I saw Will and we worked out a few things. He was going to find Ella when I left him." Regina: "Find her?" Tiana: "Yeah, there was a whole thing with the Caterpillar that I don't want to get into, but they got separated." Emma: "And what about Henry?" Tiana: (Shakes her head:) "Didn't see him." Regina: "Well what about Will, did he mention seeing him?" Tiana: "Will just said he was going to find Ella, I assume if Henry were with them it would've come up. I'm not sure what Henry's up to lately.” Giant Campsite. Henry: ♪ Let's mess a whole bunch of Dwarves up ♪ Giant 1: ♪ Stomp on those wee little tots ♪ Giant 2: ♪ Laugh at their wee little biceps ♪ All Giants: ♪ And itsy-bitsy you-know-whats ♪ ♪ Someone ♪ ♪ Should punch their beady little eyes ♪ ♪ Someone ♪ Henry: ♪ When we're done squishing the runts ♪ ♪ There won't be any traces ♪ Neutral Territory. (Roberta tries to sing some sense into them.) Roberta: ♪ Listen, people ♪ ♪ There's no need to fight ♪ ♪ Holy freakin' cow ♪ ♪ You're the same damn height ♪ ♪ Dwarf or Giant ♪ ♪ Both will die tonight ♪ ♪ There must be a way I can make things right ♪

Wonderland. The Boro Grove. (Will continues to reason with Ella.) Will: “We’re running out of time, Ella. (Slowly moving towards her:) You have to make a choice.” Ella: “Don't come any closer.” Will: (Stops:) “This place can only make you stay if you want to. (Bends down and picks up the necklace:) So I'm gonna help you remember, even if it kills me. (Walks over to her, holding up the necklace:) You know who this belongs to? It was your mother’s. And you've been fighting like hell to get to her.” (Suddenly, Will’s hands are trapped by large vines coming from the forest floor.) Ella: “Stop it. I'm happy here.” Will: “You can kill me. Become a bloody tree. Stay here forever. But you'll never be truly happy until you find what you’re looking for. (Struggling with the vines which have his arms pulled out to his sides and pulling him to his knees:) The Ella I know would never give up on that.” Ella: “Please stop it.” Will: (Shakes his head:) “No.” (Will tosses the necklace and Ella catches it. Seeming to remember, Ella stares at the necklace then up at Will, who is slowly being squeezed to death. Staring at the necklace again, she sees images of Cecelia flash in her mind’s eye.) Ella: “Mother. (The vines release Will, dropping him to the ground. Looking around:) What are these? (Using her sword she cuts herself free:) Get off me! Let me go!” Will: (Getting to his feet:) “Yes, that's it. Bloody brilliant, Ella!” Ella: “I... remember... I know what I have to do.” Open Field. (The Giants and Dwarves head towards each other from either side of the valley.) Giants: ♪ It's time to finish the Dwarves off ♪ Dwarves: ♪ It's time to take down the Giants ♪ Roberta: ♪ There's no need to fight ♪ Giants: ♪ Rip out their teeth and their eardrums ♪ Dwarves: ♪ Kidneys and tonsils and livers ♪ Roberta: ♪ You're the same damn height ♪ Dwarves: ♪ Gonna cream those Giants ♪ Giants: ♪ Dwarves ♪ ♪ We really, really hate those guys ♪ Roberta: ♪ You're just the same ♪ Dwarves: ♪ Really hate those Giants ♪ Giants: ♪ Dwarves ♪ All: ♪ Let's put 'em in their places ♪

(Richard and Henry step forward, circling each other, snapping fingers.) Richard: ♪ I'm gonna kill me a Giant ♪ Henry: ♪ Bring it ♪ (Whistles:) ♪ You dwarf! ♪ (The singing ends and the fighting begins.) Camelot. Underground Tunnel. (Running along the darkened passageway, Lily heads towards the only other cell. Smashing the lock with the hilt of her sword, Lily pulls open the door and hurries inside.) Lily: "Mom!" Maleficent: "Lily! Are you all right?" Lily: "Nothing a little payback wouldn't cure." Maleficent: (While Lily starts cutting her restraints:) "Remember when we first met, I told you I didn't want revenge anymore?" Lily: (Cutting the last rope free:) "Yeah?" Maleficent: "Well screw that. (Rubbing her wrist:) Let's roast these bastards." Lily: "Now you're talking." (Both mother and daughter's eyes flash with a fiery intensity.) Council Chamber. (Standing with his arms folded, Aredian watches the sisters argue with much interest.) Morgana: "I knew you were up to something! This is too much." Aredian: (Sighs:) "It appears Camelot has chosen the wrong sister for its Queen." Morgana: "I should have had you executed when I had the chance!" Morgause: "Do not fret, sister. As hostages, those women would be of great value to us, but as Dragons? We would be unstoppable." Morgana: "No. It's barbaric. How can I possibly go along with such a thing when it was this sort of persecution we despised our father for? Morgause, if you were to do this, it would make us no better than Uther."

Maleficent: (Now standing in the doorway:) "Oh, if ifs and buts were candy and nuts, we’d all have a merry Christmas. (Sauntering into the room, an eerie calmness to her demeanour:) I'm afraid your sister already stepped over the line when she helped kidnap my daughter. (Lily follows Maleficent into the room, allowing her mother to have her moment. To Morgause:) You seem surprised.” Morgause: “Hardly. I know what you’re capable of.” Maleficent: “Oh, Sweetie. You have no idea.” (Not waiting for Maleficent’s wrath, Morgause summons a pillar of fire and pushes it towards mother and daughter. Before Maleficent can send a counter spell however, Elsa enters the room and blasts Morgause with a flurry of snow. The blizzard is so powerful it throws the woman in red backwards, knocking her unconscious. When all eyes fall upon him, Aredian does the only thing he can think of and grabs Morgana. Pulling a dagger from his boot, he holds it against her neck.)

Kristoff: “He can’t be serious, right?” Morgana: “Aredian, think carefully about what you’re doing. You will never escape from Camelot alive.” Aredian: “I will if you value your own life. Hmm?” (Her eyes glowing, Lily uses her powers to heat up the blade in Aredian’s hand, causing him to drop it. Morgana elbows him in the gut and frees herself from his grasp. Staggering over to the window, Aredian’s eyes widen as he witnesses Maleficent’s transformation up close. Snarling, Maleficent roars with fury and flame, sending a torrent of fire towards the man. Scorched by the heat of the fire, Aredian falls backwards through the window and plummets, screaming, to his death, landing with a sickening thud on the ground below.) Giants Vs. Dwarves Battlefield. Henry: “Take that, you dwarf!” Titan: “I'm a Giant!” Henry: “Oh, sorry, sorry.” Richard: (Hits a man with his club:) “Yaah!” Dwarf: “Ohh! What the... I'm a Dwarf!” Richard: “Oh. My bad. (The shouting and fighting continues. Richard hesitates, not knowing who to fight:) Everyone... time-out! (The fighting stops:) Show of hands... Who here's a Dwarf? (Half the men raise their hands:) Right. And who's a Giant? (The other half of the indistinguishable men raise their hands:) Well, this isn't going to work.” Henry: “Okay, okay. Let's go shirts and skins. (A horse whinnies in the distance. Everyone turns to see Roberta using the horse to pull the taller part of the bridge down, merging it with the lower half:) Roberta, what are you doing?”

Roberta: “Fixing the bridge. You're fighting over nothing. (Dismounts:) You've been so busy arguing this whole journey that you can't see that you actually need each other.” Henry: “Ha! Please. I do not need him.” Roberta: “What's been your sole purpose this entire time, huh?” Henry: “I’ve been trying to find Ella.” Roberta: “Mm. And how many men have you got to join your quest?” Henry: “Well, I-” Roberta: “One.” Richard: “You got someone to join you? Who is it? Do I know him?” Henry: “You, Richard. She's talking about you.” Richard: “Oh.” Henry: (Sighs:) “Roberta's right. I'm sorry. I've been using so many horrible words to describe you that... I've forgotten the one that describes you best.” Richard: “Musky?” Henry: “Loyal. (Throws down his club and offers his hand:) Forgive me. Rejoin my quest.” Richard: (Shaking his hand:) “It would be my honor.” Roberta: “Actually, no, not so much. Richard and I have a Kingdom to reclaim, remember?” Richard: “Ah yes, that. Sorry old chap. Wait a minute, I’ve got the perfect solution. (Richard turns away while Roberta and Henry exchange curious looks:) But first, I must ask... (Turning back to face them, dragon in hand:) Do you believe that Tad Cooper is actually a dragon?” Henry: (Sighs:) “I believe... You believe he is.” Richard: (Smiles:) “I knew it. (To the dragon:) Do you hear that? He believes in us, Tad Cooper.” (Richard and Roberta discuss something while Henry addresses the Giants and Dwarves.) Henry: “Right, well, now all the fighting's over, off to find my fiancee.” Dwarf Leader: “Actually, I think we need to bow out. Before we do any more fighting, I think there's a certain bridge that needs our attention. What say you, Giant?” Andre: “Right you are, Dwarf. Right you are. Now, give me that little hand of yours.” (All the men cheer as the two leaders shake hands. Pleased by this, Henry turns to see Richard and Roberta stood beside an enormous, red-eyed dragon.) Richard: (Beaming:) “Isn’t he wonderful?” Henry: “He’s... magnificent.” Roberta: “He’s very intelligent, too. Just tell him where you want to go and he’ll take you.” Henry: “You’re... giving me your dragon?” Richard: “We’re loaning him to you. Just until you find your girl and then you can bring him back to us on your way home.” Henry: “Guys, I don’t know what to say.” Richard: “Well just don’t say anything mean or you’ll knock his confidence again.” Henry: “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Storybrooke. Main Street. (Emma and Regina leave Granny's Diner just in time to see the tallest turret of Camelot's castle explode and two dragons soaring into the sky.) Regina: (Smirking:) "I never get tired of seeing her fly." Emma: (Squinting:) "Is that... Kristoff on her back?" Regina: "I think so... (Pointing:) and that's Anna and Elsa riding on Lily's." Emma: "I guess we better call off the attack." Regina: (Nods, then notices something:) "If that's Mal and Lily, then who's that?" (Regina and Emma watch as a third dragon flies through the air heading in the opposite direction. The whooping and yelling coming from the man riding the beast lets them know exactly who it is.) Regina and Emma: "Henry!"

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

10 notes · View notes

ninja-go-to-therapy · 4 years

Text

The Ninja as Things My Friends and I Have Said

My friend keeps a quote-book and I thought y’all would enjoy this lol

Jay: say your last words to me, I’m about to be smited

Jay: I am so bright, I am star

Kai: Pickles and Dick Jay: Pickle my dick? Kai: PICKLE AND DICK! Lloyd: TICKLE MY DICK?

Kai: I want to play hot potato with a hand grenade

Lloyd: this chocolate milk mocks me

Kai: Can we all agree that when Jay walks he looks like a flamboyant gay drag-queen toddler

Lloyd, looking at a tampon: is that a cheese stick?

Kai: Where you at you little hoe?

Cole: Don’t do gay it’s not healthy

Jay: I live life as a pirate. Because a pirate is free

Jay: The sun's only up for half the year in Alaska Cole: We have that too. It's called nighttime

Morro: Lick his nuts, they have a sorta Mexican flavor

Kai: I need to be surrounded with seven beautiful naked women in order to sleep at night

Lloyd: You know how there's like a line between bravery and stupidity? Nya: Jay is that line

Jay: Disclaimer: I am an anxious bean

Wu: It’s not your fault but it is your problem

Cole: I can't keep a straight face anymore. It's gay now.

Lloyd: That was such a late reaction it could've been my dad coming back

Zane: DISCO PENIS

Kai: I wanna stand around and look GORGEOUS

Kai: I'm outrageously good-looking Zane: No you’re not

Lloyd: I admit when I'm wrong! Kai: Oh yeah. But I'm like never wrong!

All of the ninja, always: It would be so much fun to hurt a bad person

Zane: what state do I live in? Jay: depression

Kai: cool onesie... can I get inside it?

Lloyd: They call me Santa. I bring snow to the children.

Kai: Don't fucking giggle you little shit.

Nya: I will beat you with a meat stick

Cole: You moan more than the dumpster out back

Wu: Don't stick the plungers on your foreheads!

Garmadon: whY are you SMelLING the plungers?

Zane: How does one piss in a watermelon?

Lloyd: When I become 99 pounds I'm going to eat a pound of chicken nuggets so I can be 1% chicken nugget. It's indisputable.

Cole: It smells like SHIT. Like it smells kinda okay now, but it still smells like shit. So it's like. Perfumeshit

Jay: Your socks are untied

Lloyd: Morro can just molest himself

Jay: Can you please not get a fucking locker smaller than my self esteem

Zane: You be smellin your own shit soon Jay: I already do Zane: Get it? Cause your mom gay. Everyone: ...what?

Lloyd: My name's Lloyd and I wear shoes sometimes

Nya: Unlike Skylor, they actually like balls

Kai: Fuck fuck fucking fuck fucking fucktown

Jay. I’m about to go commit space heater in bathtub

Kai: Vaccines make you gay

Lloyd: It’s not because I’m Asian, its because I eat rice so much

Zane: Hi. I’m Zane. ... my dick fell off

Kai, to Lloyd: Your dad is my fuckbuddy. ... wait. Shit.

Lloyd: You didn’t miss. You hit me right in the fucking nipple.

Kai: Eat my dick

Nya. Bite off your own dick

Cole: Your face looks like you're trying to make your dick fall off

Lloyd: So we were sitting watching TV eating macaroni with a fruit roll-up soaking my feet in a trashcan

Jay: I’m gonna go commit visit Pompeii in time machine

Jay: How can spiders fall from the ceiling and just skrrrrt away

Kai: Because none of us can speak proper sentences

Kai: Hold on. I'm sending a meme. I can't fight.

Jay: Engulf your own dick

Jay: Please don’t have a Boston tea party in my back yard

Kai: Still it felt like I committed a minor crime in Iran with all the water in my nose

Jay: Sensei Wu, please throw scissors... I kinda wanna die

Kai: I got royally fucked

Jay: Get your meaty luscious legs

Jay: The fuck you mean take my pants off? They're always on! Cause no one wants me to take them off!

Lloyd, picking up a napkin and seeing food fall out: IT’S BIRTHING

Zane, threateningly: Give me your kidneys

The Overlord: Where is your technology stored?

Zane: I can balance my body on my boner and spin like a beyblade

Kai: My balls are not a muscle

Cole: So apparently I'm not the only one with asymmetrical balls. Lloyd: Wait actually? Cole: Well yesterday Kai gave us a very descriptive description of his balls

Zane, sarcastically: Gosh darn don’t you hate it when you're not allowed to bring your 5 dollar footlong subway to training

Lloyd: So he poked me in the back with a pencil and my third grade self was like, "BLASPHEMY"

Kai: You.... dickmuncher

Jay: We're playing infinity Life. It's like Life but the cars are infinity stones.

Kai: I could have divine gay sex and it would still be nohomo.

Cole, during some super serious training: Bake me into a pie daddy

Kai: a compliment sandwich, like this: I like your shoes, YOU SUCK, your eyes are pretty

Zane, to Lloyd: Don't KILL her! Too much paperwork!

Jay: Stop moving your butt. It's uncomfortable when you clench it

Cole: The STICK.. will be UP YOU! Kai: My ASS is your spot!

Jay, teaching Kai to roller skate: First, we master walking

Kai: I know I’m beautiful and perfect and amazing and huMBLE

Lloyd: I'm here for a good time, not a long time.

Cole: I'm allergic to emotions!

Zane: Yeet is not a valid Scrabble word

Kai: I love myself 3000. And you should, too. Love yourself, that is. Unless you wanna love me as well, cause that’s cool too.

Zane: Is doing drugs illegal

Lloyd: Post-traumatic stress? More like spicy memories

Jay: Be quiet so I can see

Cole: Why is my wallaber grinding its ass on the floor?

Kai: Whatever, my ass cheeks are balanced ... just as all things should be

Garmadon: IT WOULD BE SO MUCH FUN TO MAKE SOMEBODY THINK YOU WERE GONNA HIT THEM WITH YOUR CAR!

Sensei Garmadon: First of all, nobody says they're fine when they're good

Lloyd, getting himself a donut: A chocolate frosted donut for a chocolate frosted child

Nya, about Harumi: I just loathed her at first sight. Like your dad!

Morro, about Lloyd: He reminds me of a cucumber.

Cole, after becoming human again: I’m like Jesus... I thirst

Lloyd, sipping apple juice out of a shot glass: I'm just... done, ya know

Jay: Zane was eating my popcorn and I was like "hey that's my popcorn!" And he looks me dead in the eye and goes "surprise communism!"

Lloyd: I consumed a spatula

Jay: I almost burned down my house making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich

Zane, after Jay climbs on his back: Unmount me you heathen.

Kai: Yeah it's been such a dick-licking long time

Karlof: In Metalonia we do not have sister, we have brother with pussy

Zane: I want to delete my meatsack

Little Lloyd: At about 10 I was so hungry so I went to the med tent and pretended to be fainting so I got crackers

Garmadon: Before we leave I'm gonna sing a Disney song to attract all the females. Especially Misako

Jay, about to get sunburned: I know right, sunscreen is gross, you look like a glazed donut after you put it on

Cole: I like nuts but not that much. ... both kinds... I like my own nuts.

Zane: Hi I’m Zane and I’m the only one in this group with any form of common sense

Lloyd: Oh there's just someone throwing up over there! Kai: That’s hot

Cole, having a cashew thrown at him: I don’t want to swallow your nut ... I DON’T WANT YOUR NUT

Lloyd: My uncle is going to sacrifice my body

Kai: Okay. You ALL can eat MY ass

Lloyd: A picture will last longer than your family will

Garmadon: That last rep was like a hydroflask and this one was like a kleankanteen

Kai: I bet for a second he was like "oh my God they care about me"

Kai: Because no one would be ballsy enough, no pun intended, to whip his dick out and piss on a crowded bus

Jay: Fuck a duck Lloyd: Please just dont ..ff... a duck Jay: But the duck likes it. It goes quackquackquackQUACKAFLACK.

Lloyd: Digiorno? More like I'm fucking hungry

Lloyd: My socks are so wet tis but a small price to pay for salvation

Kai: No means no muchacho

Dareth after failing at spinjitzu: Now I'm just dizzy and my ass hurts

Zane: I said, Cole, don’t orgasm in public, it’s rude, and Cole started moaning as loud as humanly possible

Lloyd: Say cheese! Kai: Whiskey!

Jay: Who the fucking dammit

Jay: Spongebob square-nuts

Jay: Actual- ACTUALLY it WOULDN’T make me more of a smartass because my SMART has yet to be caught up with my ASS

Lloyd: I hate it when my foot becomes the itch

Kai: STDs are like pokemon, you gotta catch em all

Kai: Here y’all are like "I like them 'cause of how they hold themselves and whatnot" and I’m just like “GIRL PRETTY"

Cole: I hate it whenever my foot becomes the gay.

Kai: I’m shit at being a person, not a shit person.

Zane: Buses turn me on

Jay: No pissing in our VSCO hangout!

Lloyd: Are y’all on high?

Kai: Its gotta warm up to start lavaing, now it’s just lamping.

Kai, crying: When I was crawling through the sewer my hair got stuck in my knee pit and ripped out a chunk

Lloyd, deepthroating a plastic recorder: I’m blonde so naturally, I'm good at this

Kai: I’m depressed. I’m stressed. But at least I’m well-dressed.

Lloyd: Nom nom milk carton

Cole, playing Life: Give me children

Jay, on a Thursday: If Friday was a Tuesday, it would be today

Kai: We're eating lotion and calling it spicy butter ... it’s spiritually spicy

Kai: I don’t fucking know! I'm not a cheese wheel!

Zane: Beepbeep bitch what's that? My lie detector smells a lie

Lloyd: I aced two tests today! The PSAT and the rice purity test!

Pixal: I don't really get the phrase "dry as bones" because your bones are in fact, wet

Cole: Kai, Kai, we can draw you as one of those anime girls. With humungous eyes. Actually no, it doesn't matter what the size of your eyes are. But your boobs are HUGE.

Lloyd: Jay wants to become the Alpha hoe

Cole: STOP TOUCHING MY HEAD AND SAYING IT FEELS GOOD

Jay: Deli sandwich equals cold hamburger

Lloyd: How was your day? Cole: Good. I have pie dough in my water bottle

Jay: If we do that we can reach our minimum requirement which is our goal

Kai: You can taste the freedom in that nacho cheese

Lloyd: I lust for the crust

Garmadon: You dirty-minded fools!

Anyone, to Skylor: You sucked the fire

Lloyd: OHMYGOD WE GET TO COLOR WITH CRAYONS!

Nya: Not to be lesbian or anything... but DAMN

Jay: No means no in Spanish

Kai: Bro saxophone is literally the sexiest instrument alive

Wu: The only wrong answers are the ones I don’t agree with

Kai: Look, why do you need to be a bottom to suck someone else's cock?

Cole: Jay, you suck Jay: More so than you do? Kai: Wait... wait you mean like you suck at the game or you’re better at sucking than he is?

Kai: WE CAN WANT YOU SEXUALLY TOO

Cole: That's not kinky, that's just abusive

Lloyd: CAN WE STOP USING THE TERM “BLONDE BITCH”

Cole: That’s not how you do it! Straddle me HO!

Kai: I didn’t mean to kick you in the coochie! Jay, I’m the distance: Be genital with her!

Cole: Yeah, also Jay tackled me and then grabbed me in between his legs and Kai jumped on top and Jay smacked his ass and I tried to record so Kai tried to smack my phone out of my hand and missed and his finger went right in my eye so I rolled over screaming and they got up and threw pebbles at me

Cole: It sounds naked! Music!

Kai, to anyone after they say Wu seems chill: He looks like a big soft squishy man but he is not

Zane: On average, in order to feel happy, you need to be touched, (pokes Jay) 8 times a day Kai raises two fingers on each hand: I’m about to make you ALL happy" *every person at the table in unison scoots away*

Zane: You looked like lord farquad but in a cute way!

Jay, after getting a pizza shoved at him. The pepperoni sanitized my facehole

Kai: I am the WITNESS! VICTIM! And I will play ... the e x e c u t i o n e r .

#ninjago #incorrect ninjago quotes #incorrect quotes #lmao #s: my friends #the most these were edited were like #the names #and like #'band practice' to 'training' or something #yes I'm aware my friends and I are all crackheads #also peep the shameless self promo

62 notes · View notes

hippiebuckyharrington · 4 years

Text

Some Unspoken Thing

This is my harringrove for australia fic for @wingedbears! Thank you so much for your bid!!!!@harringroveweekoflove prompt: accidental confession.

Read below or on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22686796

It takes him too long to figure out what that noise is, the annoying shrieking from somewhere beyond the warm cocoon of his blankets. He shoves his head under the pillow, willing it to stop. It does, and Billy breathes a sigh of relief, settling back to sleep when it starts again.

“Mother Fuck!” He groans, hauls out of bed, and rips the bedroom door open. He blinks into the dark hallway, and finally places the noise.

“Who the hell is calling at three am?!” He shouts at the phone, glaring at it when it dares to ring while he’s yelling. He scrubs his face tiredly. He grabs the phone roughly from its cradle and smashes it against his face.

“I swear to god, whoever you are better have an in-fucking-credibly good reason for calling me!” He barks into the receiver. Someone takes a shaky breath.

“Billy, it’s me.” Max whispers. Billy instantly feels like he’s been doused in cold water.

“Fuck. Maxine, tell me you’re ok, and you didn’t go monster hunting.” He mutters voice low, leaning forward to drop his forehead to the wall next to the phone.

“I’m fine. I’m not hurt. And the monster is gone, now.” Max says, voice still soft.

“Then why the fuck are you calling me at the asscrack of dawn?!” Billy demands.

“Because…. Uh…. Well, I’m not hurt, but…” She’s stalling. Billy’s blood, which was feeling less icy at her original answer, freezes again. If Max is stalling that means only one thing. He can hear someone in the background mutter at her to just rip the band aide off.

“Tell me it’s one of the rugrats. Tell me Whiny Wheeler got hurt, or Sinclair. Tell me you are calling me because you’re tired and need a ride. Hell, tell me you’re calling because you need to talk to me about boy trouble and this is the only time you have.” Billy begs. Max swallows so loud Billy hears it through the phone. Panic is coiling in his gut, cold and heavy.

“It’s not Mike, or Lucas. Everyone else is fine.” She pauses, ignoring his last hopeful comment, and sucks in a deep breath. Billy holds his. “Steve got hurt. He jumped in front of the demo dog to protect Dustin. It got him, we’re at the hospital.” Max says, all in a rush. Billy’s legs buckle.

“Fuck.” He says, as he lurches further into the wall.

“They just took him back. There was a lot of blood, and his side and back are all ripped up.” Max says, a little breathlessly. She knows him well; knows he needs the details with no sugarcoating. “Joyce and Hop are here, and we called Owens. I don’t know when we can see him.” She adds. Billy nods, feeling numb.

“I’m coming.” He whispers.

“He will be in surgery or asleep for a while, you don’t have to come right this second. I just wanted to let you know.“ Max says, but kind of like she doesn’t think it’ll dissuade him. "But I wouldn’t be mad if you came.”

"I have to be there. I can’t just sit at home if he's… if he’s….” Billy says, and then he hiccups a little.

“We’re in the waiting room.” She whispers, the line clicks as she hangs up. Billy takes a deep breath and slams the phone down in its cradle.

He runs to his room and yanks on his boots, doesn’t even lace them. He grabs a ratty sweatshirt hanging out of the dresser and pulls it on, then stumbles out to his kitchen, yanks on his jacket and grabs his keys. Billy dashes down the metal stairs to his car. A neighbor shouts at him to keep it down, but Billy isn’t listening. The Camaro roars to life, and then tears out of the parking lot.

It takes 3 minutes and 43 seconds too long to get to the hospital, and Billy parks like an asshole, but can’t bring himself to care. He runs inside and immediately spots the cluster of people he’s looking for. They all turn and look at him.

“Billy?” Joyce Byers says, standing a little. “Are you ok?”

“Steve…” Billy croaks out. Joyce’s face softens a little, and she shoves some coats off a chair for him. He collapses into it.

Max tucks herself into the chair next to him and leans against his shoulder. He kisses her hair and stares down the nurse’s station in the corner.

“Dustin.” Billy calls, and the boy jolts and looks up. “Tell what happened.”

“El found the demo dog on accident checking on the town. We were at Steve’s house already, for movies and pizza.” Dustin starts.

“I know, Dustin. I was invited too, but I had to work.” Billy says, and he feels a coil of guilt wriggle in his gut. He moved out of his Dad’s house the second he could, and into his own apartment, but he has to work two jobs to pay for it. It’s worth it, and Steve comes over a lot, for movies and food, or to just sit around together. And Max is over all the time. But the two jobs mean he misses a lot of the Party gatherings.

“Oh, right.” Dustin continues. “Anyway, we all decided to go scope it out, and then call Hop if anything happened.”

“You should have called me right away.” Hop grumbles from his spot next to Joyce.

“We know, but we didn’t. Anyway, we went to where El had seen it and we were just listening and look for rot, or anything similar to last time. It snuck up on us, he saw it first. It was coming straight for me, he shoved me out of the way, and turned in time for it to grab him in the back. It was weak, had been trapped outside of the upside down for a while. El got it with her power and it died. We rushed him here.” Dustin says. Billy nods.

“Stupid fuckin hero complex is gonna get him killed.” Billy mutters.

“Are you mad at me?” Dustin hedges. Billy sighs.

“No, I’m not mad. I’m mad at him for being an idiot, and I’m mad at you, Maxine, for not calling me, and you all were stupid, but I’m not mad at you, Steve’s Favorite.” Billy says. Dustin grins.

“I love that nickname.” He mutters, Billy smiles a little.

“Sorry I didn’t call.” Max whispers. Billy tugs her close.

“You know I would have come in a heartbeat.” He mutters.

“I know, but you worked a lot yesterday, and you were tired. We thought we had it handled.” She says. Billy sighs, kisses her head again.

“I’m never too tired for my family, why do you think I’m here?” Billy mutters. Max grins up at him, and then tugs at his jacket. He shrugs out of it, and drapes it around her shoulders. They all settle around the room then, because it’s early, and there isn’t much else to say or do. Billy goes back to staring at the nurse’s station, and throws an arm around Max. She curls up under his jacket and yawns.

“I’ve never seen him without his hair done.” Will whispers to his mom, an indeterminate amount of time later. Joyce laughs a little, glancing up from her magazine. Max is asleep on Billy’s shoulder, Mike and Lucas are stretched out across several chairs, sleeping. Hop went to go talk with some cops about the demo dog, and Dustin is dozing in the corner. El is asleep on Max’s other side, under Hop’s jacket.

Billy touches his wild curls a little nervously, still staring at the nurses.

“He left in quite a hurry, and his hair is the least of his worries. He had to check on Max.” Joyce whispers back.

“He’s gonna be ok.” Will leans forward to tell Billy.

“He better.” Billy grits out.

“Is that Steve’s sweatshirt?” Will asks. Billy glances down at it. Steve is over so much, when Billy isn’t working, and sometimes when he is, that some of Steve’s clothes have just migrated there. Billy hadn’t meant to grab that sweatshirt necessarily, just reaching for any warmish shirt but he’s glad he has it now.

Joyce smiles at him gently, and turns back to her magazine.

“Yeah it is, he must have left it. I just didn’t want to show up shirtless.” Billy whispers. Will smiles a little, knowingly, and turns back to lean against his mom. Billy pulls the collar of the sweatshirt up to his nose, and breathes deep. It still smells a little bit like Steve, even though Billy has worn it multiple times. He takes a deep breath and leans back in the chair, closing his eyes.

It’s 6:30 in the freaking morning before an exhausted looking doctor walks into the waiting room, handing a clipboard to the nurses as she does. Billy instantly straightens, leaning forward a little, jarring Max awake.

“You folks all here for Mr. Harrington?” The doctor asks, moving her long braid off her shoulder. Everyone nods.

“I work with Dr. Owens, I’m Dr. Forest. He was called out of time, so I stepped in. I am aware of the nature of the injuries Mr. Harrington came in with. He is out of surgery. We repaired all the damage that we could, and stitched him up. He lost a kidney, but is stable now. He’s still sleeping, but should be waking up soon.” Dr. Forest smiles, and glances at all of them. “I’m afraid that all of you might be too much in the room at a time, and it’s not technically visiting hours, but I can let some of you go sit with him until he wakes up. Only two at a time I think.” She says. Billy swallows thickly, practically shaking, needing to get to Steve.

It’s quiet for a beat, a mostly nonverbal conversation flying between the people around him. Billy doesn’t see it, focused entirely on the doctor, who’s smiling.

“Billy can go see Steve.” It’s Dustin who speaks. “When Steve wakes up the rest of us will go check.” Dr. Forest turns her dark assessing eyes on Billy, and takes in the worn flannel sleep pants, still unlaced boots, the old, ratty sweatshirt, and his messy curls. She smiles, and nods, turning and motioning for Billy to follow.

Max squeezes his hand, and suddenly Billy stalls.

“It shouldn’t be me, he… you guys go.” Billy whispers, but he doesn’t relax.

“Go on honey, we know you need to see him. I’ll take some of the kids’ home if they want, and we’ll come back later ok? You sit with him. Go on.” Joyce says. Billy takes a deep breath and follows Dr. Forest.

“He’s gonna be fine.” She assures him as they get in the elevator. Billy just nods. Dr. Forest shows him down a hall and to a private room at the end of it. She opens the door. Billy’s breath stutters.

Steve is lying on the hospital bed, sleeping. He’s pale, and he’s got a bruise forming on his neck and jaw, but otherwise the damage is obscured by the blankets and the hospital gown.

“He’s going to be fine. The kids brought him in time, we fixed him. He’s gonna need time to heal, but he’s gonna be ok.” Dr. Forest says, smiling at Billy. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to see his boyfriend when he wakes up.” She whispers. Billy jolts.

“uh… I’m… We’re not….” He says. Dr. Forest smiles again.

“Whatever you say. Go, sit with him.” She urges. She squeezes his shoulder and then disappears. Billy walks quietly into the room, and drags a chair closer to Steve and sits down. He reaches out and picks up Steve’s hand gently in both of his.

“You should have called me, pretty boy.” Billy whispers. “I should have been there. I could have helped you. I’m gonna kill you when you wake up, we are gonna have words, I swear Harrington.” Billy whispers. He reaches out and brushes some of the damp hair from Steve’s face. “I’m gonna sit with you until I can yell at you for being stupid. I’m gonna be right here, pretty boy, so you sleep and when you are ready for the yelling you wake up, ok?” Billy says, debating if he should say more.

But Steve can’t hear him so he just holds Steve’s hand tight and tries to memorize his face, assuring himself that Steve’s ok.

He eventually drops his head to the bed, and closes his eyes, listening to the beep of machinery and Steve’s breathing.

“Billy?” A soft voice asks. Billy jolts awake and looks up into tired brown eyes.

Steve smiles a little. Billy glares at him and lurches up.

“You’re such an idiot Harrington.” Billy snarls, pacing at the end of the bed. Steve looks confused. “What the hell did you think you were doing, jumping in front of one of those things like that?! You could have died!”

“But I didn’t? Why are you yelling?” Steve asks, and he sounds confused and hurt.

“Because you are stupid! Because you went out there with the kids, and you didn’t even fucking call me!” Billy cries, causing a nurse to come running over. Steve shakes his head at her.

“He’s just mad at me, he’ll yell for a while and be fine. Though I don’t know why he’s yelling.” Steve says, the nurse shoots Billy a look and then turns to Steve. They check his vitals, and smile at him.

“I’m gonna give you a shot of something for the pain, it should ease some pain, and help you sleep when the yelling stops.” The nurse says, and grin. They inject the stuff into Steve’s IV and then scribble some things on his chart.

“You can keep yelling hun, I just gotta wait and make sure the dose was enough and that Mr. Harrington here doesn’t react badly to it.” The nurse says.

Billy is still all amped up, and the sooner he finishes yelling the sooner he can get to fussing over Steve.

“Why were you so stupid?! Harrington, you could have died?! And then what, then what was the plan? Huh? What would Dustin have done, if you’d died? What would all your little brats have done?! What the hell then?! There were better ways to handle this! You could have called me, for one, you could have called the damn police chief for another, because he has a gun?!” Billy yells.

Steve looks a little loopy now, and he smiles a little at Billy.

“I didnnnn’ die though.” He slurs.

“Yes, but you could have! That’s the whole point, Harrington, you could have died!!! Do you not understand that? You can’t keep doing this!” Billy yells. Steve sighs, and looks at the nurse, who is measuring his heart rate.

“He’s mad at me.” Steve whispers. The nurse chuckles.

“Yeah, he is.” They say.

“It’s ok though, he’s pretty cute when he’s all worked up. I’sss gonna marry him somedayyyyy, cause we’sss in love, ya know?” Steve says, brown eyes going liquid and wide. “He jusss’ don’t think I lovvve him, and he’s had a life you know? Do you know? And so I cannnnn’t tells him, cause he’d get scared.” Steve slurs. The nurse raises their eyebrows and turns to Billy who is just gaping at Steve.

“The meds hit some people really hard, and he’s had a long night. He probably isn’t aware of what he’s saying. I’d save your yelling for when he wakes up again.” The nurse smiles gently. “Steve, sugar, you sleep it off, alright? I’ll be back to check on you later.” The nurse grins and leaves. Billy continues to stare at Steve, who blinks sleepily.

“Come ‘ere. You’re so farrrr. Billllllly.” Steve pouts and lifts his hands. Billy walks over, still staring at him.

“Yous all red.” Steve mumbles, and continues to make grabby hands. Billy shakes his head and walks around the side of the bed, sitting on the side of it, and taking Steve’s hands.

“You said you loved me, so yeah I’m all red.” Billy says, feeling his face get even warmer.

“Who toldddd?!” Steve cries, looking scandalized. “Issss a secret!”

And Billy cracks up. Because only Steve could do this. He leans forward and presses his head to Steve’s, and takes a deep breath.

“Get some sleep Harrington, we can talk when you wake up.” Billy says.

“Mmmmkay, but you’re gonna stay, right? I donnnn’ wanna be alone.” Steve says petulantly. Billy laughs.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up, promise.” Billy says. Steve nods, and then promptly falls asleep.

Dr. Forest comes in to check in on Steve a little later, and hands Billy some Stephen King novel, saying he looked bored, and says she’ll call Joyce and Hop to update them.

Billy’s reading a few hours later, not looking at Steve, so he misses when the other wakes up.

“Oh god.” Steve moans from the bed. Billy drops the book and leaps up.

“What, do you hurt? Are you bleeding? What’s wrong?!” Billy asks, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at Steve, who’s covered his face with his hands.

“Did I get high on pain meds, and tell a nurse we were gonna get married?” Steve whispers. Billy laughs a little.

“Yeah, you did.” Billy says, laughing a little.

“And… and did… uh did I say that I loved you but you didn’t know and I couldn’t tell you because you’d be scared?” Steve mutters.

“Uh… yeah you did. But don’t worry, I know it was the drugs.” Billy mutters. Steve sighs.

“I wasn’t lying. That really wasn’t how I wanted to tell you, but I mean it.” Steve whispers and parts his fingers to peer at Billy.

“Wait. What?” Billy mutters.

“You didn’t know? You’re smarter than me!” Steve says, and starts to sit up. He winces, and Billy leaps up to help him, fluffing the pillows behind him, and easing Steve back onto them.

“We’re friends.” Billy explains. “Right?”

“Billy, of course, you’re my best friend in the whole world. But I went and fell for you, and it’s obvious that you love me too. But Max told me that you’ve had so much in your past, and I figured we’d just figure it out eventually.” Steve mutters.

“I do love you.” Billy breathes.

“I know. You sat in a hospital all night and then yelled at me. And you’re wearing my shirt, and your hair isn’t done. I know, Bills.” Steve says, and he reaches out to take Billy’s hands. “I’ve never doubted how you felt about me, I just thought you knew how I felt about you. I’m sorry, I never wanted you to doubt.”

“So, you just thought I was making you wait?” Billy mutters.

“I thought you weren’t ready. That it was just some unspoken thing, and you’d talk about it when you were ready.” Steve murmurs.

“You’re still an idiot Harrington, but I might be a bigger one.” Billy mutters.

“Don’t you say that Billy Hargrove!” Steve says, and leans forward as much as he can and pecks Billy’s lips. Billy chases him, and helps him ease down onto the pillows before kissing him again.

“OH! We can come back!” Someone yells from the doorway. Billy pulls away, but tips his head against Steve’s forehead.

“Come in Steve’s Favorite, I know you all want to see him too.” Billy says.

“My kids are here?!” Steve says, and turns to see them clustered around the doorway, shoving Billy aside slightly.

Billy moves, and Steve opens his arms. The kids all launch at him, hugging him tight, but gentle, mindful of his bandaged middle. Max turns and hugs Billy tight.

“About time.” She whispers. Billy chuckles.

“Did he yell?” Dustin asks.

“Oh yeah. There was a lot of yelling.” Steve says.

“But then he got high on pain meds and told me he loved me, so I stopped yelling.” Billy teases. Steve’s eyes sparkle.

“Yeah, but he loves me too so it works out.” The kids all make disgusted noises, but Billy’s just looking at Steve, and his big brown, very much alive eyes.

#harringrove for Australia #harringrove week of love #accidental confession #harringrove

77 notes · View notes

not-safeforsanders · 3 years

Text

Riptide

Chapter 12: Guillotine // I’ve got thoughts nobody needs

Ship: Receit

Warnings for this chapter: hospitals

Warnings for the whole fic: Drug use, sexual content, sex under the influence of alcohol, alcoholism, implied/referenced suicide attempts, sexual trauma, sex addiction, self-worthlessness.

Word Count: 3587

Plot: Remus is running from a history he doesn’t want to face, Janus is escaping a guilt that he doesn’t have to bear. When the two meet under the most unlikely of circumstances, Janus finds himself in a whirlwind of a life that gets stranger by the second.

As he starts to uncover more about Remus’, and his brother Roman’s, history, Janus finds himself in a much harder situation than he’d thought he’d be in. Can he stop his past repeating itself? Or will he have to carry the weight of living alone once again?

Chapter Summary: Remus is going to be okay, or so he hopes, so everybody around him hopes; if he can just take those steps to get there.

Janus stays the night in this hospital room, he’s fairly certain these people are supposed to ask if he’s family, but then again they hadn’t asked the last time he’d been sleeping on a single chair waiting for Remus to wake up. He supposes the night shift have more important things to worry about than him, as attested by the fact he’s sleeping on a very uncomfortable chair.

Roman looked exhausted when he left, the sort of tired that no amount of ‘go home and get some rest’ can fix. Janus does not for a moment blame him, he understands why Roman can’t stay here, firstly because he’s already a mess of muscle soreness and he will not be able to sleep in this room; and secondly, because this is not the first time Roman, or Patton, have sat in a hospital room waiting for Remus to wake up. Something like that doesn’t get easier to see, it only gets harder.

Janus wonders how many times he’s going to see this, if ever again. He doesn’t want to place too much hope in his own heart because this crash is so brutal that he wonders how to stabilise his own heart. No wonder Roman always looks older than he is, acts older too, could you imagine having to be a father not only to your twin brother but to yourself too? Could you imagine being the sole support network to someone who seems to tick like a time bomb and then explode?

He doesn’t pity Roman, but he’s very glad he has Patton because that means that Janus knows he’s safe and not alone.

Janus does not find it easy to sleep that night and not because the chair is so stiff and uncomfortable. At first, he struggles to sleep despite his overwhelming exhaustion, the hours creeping by. Occasionally he cries quietly, softly, so no-one can hear. It’s just him, the darkness, and his partner. He tries to grasp the situation as best as he can, one moment Remus had been at home, asleep, and the next he was in a hospital bed. Janus doesn’t really know how to handle that, but he assumes it must be harder for Remus, or at least it will be when he wakes up.

It’s well into the early hours of the morning before he falls asleep, his muscles stiff and his body cold, but he does eventually succumb to slumber.

When the morning rolls around he is still tired, but the sunlight floods the far too white room, offering a little bit of warmth. Janus lifts his head with a wince, his back aching and not in a pleasant way at all, but then he’s more preoccupied with the dark eyes staring at him. Remus is awake, sat up against the headrest with a bowl of cereal in his lap that he seems to be struggling to eat. The IV drip that had been connected to his arm has been removed, but the cannula is still there, the needle taped into the crook of his inside elbow. It doesn’t look comfortable.

Remus looks a little amused by his presence in some way, his eyebrow raised as Janus looks up at him. He pushes a spoonful of cereal into his mouth and then rests the bowl somewhere else, seemingly giving up on trying. He looks like hell, his skin pale and too tight over his bones, bags as dark as bruises even starker against the white lights of the hospital. He looks exhausted, Janus feels exhausted. “You’re awake,” the blond mutters softly, his throat dry and voice rough as he speaks.

“Have been for a few hours now, I woke up whilst it was still dark because I needed to throw up my entire guts, and then I got tea and food from the very lovely nurse.” He gives a grin, but it’s lacking its usual brightness. Janus sits closer to the bed and smiles reassuringly, or what he hopes is reassuring anyway. “You stayed here all night.” It isn’t a question, but Janus nods anyway by way of response. “Your back must be killing you.”

“I can barely feel it,” he replies, voice coming out almost like a whisper. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck.” That seems like an accurate description. He doesn’t know what Remus took or how much, but he does know that it doesn’t look pleasant to put that much drugs into you, and even worse to get them all out. His stomach must look like a warzone right now. “But I’ll be alright, apparently I’m an alcoholic, did you know?”

“A little.” Janus rests his head against the bed, his arms folded underneath it. “You do drink a lot, but I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to say anything.”

“That’s understandable.” Remus shuffles to one side of the bed. “Come on.” Janus glances nervously through the door, before sliding off his shoes and squashing up next to Remus in the bed. He wraps an arm around the other man’s too-thin waist and rests his head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. He doesn’t know why it makes him cry to hear it thudding, but it does. Remus frowns and runs a hand through his hair soothingly. “I’m okay Jan, it’s okay.”

“Nothing about this is okay,” Janus whispers. His voice cracks when he speaks and his voice is almost...angry, but not furious anger, heartbroken. He still doesn’t know what to do with all of these emotions but he does feel ready to pick a fight with absolutely anyone and anything that has ever hurt Remus or ever will. “Absolutely nothing, okay would be you not having to suffer, that would be okay.” He shakes his head just a little, sniffling. “ You are not okay, and this is not okay and it’s not your fault, I don’t blame you but you’re not okay and you need to stop saying you are.” Remus goes silent. He doesn’t say anything for a very long moment.

“I know.” He says softly, eventually, pressing a kiss to the top of Janus’ head. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset with you.”

“I know.”

Janus does not want to leave Remus’ side, he eventually has to pry himself away from Remus so the doctors can take his blood. He doesn’t say a word the entire time, he just rests his exhausted head against the bed. Remus however, jokes with them and flirts with the female nurses who definitely know he’s not interested, nothing about this man could be less than flamboyant. He’s doing it to cheer himself up, Janus thinks. He even cracks something of a small smile when the bubbly nurse laughs in response to Remus’ flirtation with “oh I would, but I think my husband might have something to say about it.” Remus laughs instead, he sounds tired even then.

Janus falls asleep again at some point, jerking awake by the sound of the door opening. It’s easily midday by this point as a doctor informs Remus that the psychiatrist will be here in around an hour to have a consultation with him. “Your...brother...?” He looks at Janus, who snorts a little in response. Remus is easily over 6ft tall, thin as a rod with hair that is almost black, there is no way he’s Janus’ brother. They don’t look remotely similar.

“Sure,” Remus says, with a grin. “We’ll go with that.” Janus glares at him.

“...right, well, your brother can join with your consent.”

“Absolutely not,” Janus is still reeling from being mistaken for Remus’ brother. He glances up at his own hair and furrows his eyebrows, yes he’s still obnoxiously blond. His mother used to say Janus could never go missing because his hair is like a traffic light.

“I’m not his brother,” Janus finally says, because that just feels wrong. “His actual brother might want to attend though.”

“He’s not going too, the doctor said I have to consent.” Janus meets Remus’ eyes as though trying to have a silent conversation.

“You do, so you think over that, and I will let you know when the psychiatrist arrives, from a medical standpoint you’re good, your blood work has come back and we’re a little concerned on how low your iron and vitamin d levels are, but over the counter medication for that is fairly cheap, we’ll prescribe you some tablets that you can pick up from your local pharmacy.” The doctor lowers his clipboard and smiles warmly. “You should also cut back on your alcohol consumption, whilst your liver and kidneys are not currently showing any abnormalities, the alcohol levels in your blood were far too great for someone your weight and could indicate future problems.” He nods with a small hum. “But, psychiatric evaluation permitted, you should be able to be discharged today, and we’ll send that prescription over, now it’s most important that you take the vitamins throughout winter, it’s not so imperative in the summer because we have sunlight, but obviously in the winter, days are shorter, less sunlight, so less vitamin D, is all that clear?”

“Yes,” Remus replies, looking like it really is not clear.

“Good, I will leave you and your friend to it then.” Then he walks out the door and closes it behind him.

“Brother?” Janus asks, his voice a whole pitch higher. “If you weren’t bed-bound I would slap you,” he jokes lightly.

“Heteronormitivity is a hell of a drug,” Remus laughs softly, running a hand through his hair. “Come on, don’t lie, it’s just a little bit funny isn’t it?”

“I look nothing like you, like not even distant relatives.” He shakes his head, then grimaces. “Nope, no thank you,” the taller man is laughing properly now at the disgusted expression on Remus’ face. “Now every time I kiss you I’m going to be thinking about the time someone thought I was your brother...he’s a medical professional surely he should know how genetics work, I look nothing like you!”

“Can’t wait to tell Roman,” Remus grins. “He’s going to have a field day, although he’s used to that, so many people think he and Patton are brothers.”

“Patton doesn’t even have the same skin tone as Roman, you two are white as milk and he looks perpetually like he’s just gotten back from fucking Benidorm, that’s even worse!” Remus doesn’t stop laughing, his hand on his stomach as he half laughs and half winces. Then his stomach lurches and he grimaces, hiccuping on his own breath. “Are you okay?”

“About as okay as I can be,” he replies with a small smile. He shuffles around a little, sitting up against the headboard. “What about you?”

“Getting better,” his smile is tight in response, squeezing Remus’ hand in his own gently. “You’re here, and that’s what matters.” Janus meets Remus’ eyes with a more relaxed smile, and Remus’ cheeks flush a little, his eyes going slightly wide before he treas their gazes in two and looks away. “Are you blushing?”

“No.”

“You are! You’re blushing!”

“I am absolutely am not,” Janus stands up off the chair and plonks down next to Remus on the bed, leaning over and kissing his cheek. Remus makes a small noise at the back of his throat and narrows his eyes at Janus. “You stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Seducing me.”

“I am not!”

“Are too!”

The door opens and Roman stands there, staring at the two of them with furrowed eyebrows. “Isn’t Remus blushing?” Janus asks, immediately, his hand coming up to poke the warm cheek. Roman studies Remus’ face with furrowed eyebrows, the other’s cheeks darken in response, burying his face in his hands as he avoids the gaze.

“He is,” Roman concludes with a nod. “What did you do?”

“I...I don’t know to be honest,” Janus grins, before sliding off the bed to sit back down on the chair. That single hospital bed is really not made for two. Remus is smiling very softly as he stares down at the hands that are now in his lap, shaking his head. He looks a little more...bright, with that expression on his face, not forced, not struggling to grasp a hold of a single piece of happiness.

“The doctor said that I’m physically fine,” Remus informs Roman, who nods, sitting down on the other free chair with an interesting expression on his face. “He said the psychiatrist will be here in an hour or something, and then I’ll be allowed to go based on that diagnostic assessment.” He sighs a little, his shoulders rising and falling with the depth of it. “I really landed myself in it this time huh, couldn’t brush that one off as an ‘I forgot how much I was taking,’ could I?”

“No,” Roman replies with a small and sad smile. “But at least now you can actually get some help, and please just...just try, this time, okay? That’s...that’s all I’m asking, just tell the truth and try.” Remus looks up at his brother, the smile absent from his face and back to looking tired and without humour. Janus stares at his own hands for a moment, wondering if he should leave the two to talk, but neither seems to be indicating he should leave. “But at least you didn’t do any lasting damage, which is a miracle in itself.”

“Yeah, apparently I need to stop drinking though, my kidney is on its way out.” Remus snorts, Roman shakes his head, but he is smiling a little in amusement.

“I’ve been telling you that one for years.”

“Oh don’t start.”

“What? It’s true! You…” Janus tunes out the argument, just watching the two of them bicker, voices getting higher but they have those grins on their faces, enjoying riling each other up. Janus had never thought much if he’d wished he’d had a brother or sister. He thinks he probably has a half-brother on his dad’s side, but he never met him.

“The entire ward can hear you two,” none of them had noticed the door opening, Patton is stood there in his normal clothes looking far too amused at the two of them. “I knew before I even got here which room you were in. He hands Roman a coffee and Janus and coffee. Remus pouts. “No caffeine for you mister, or alcohol for that matter I saw your bloodwork.”

“Oh, here we go,” Remus mutters, Patton laughs softly, shaking his head.

“I don’t know how your poor body is still going, I’ve half a mind to be making you a nutrition plan so that you still have organs at thirty.” Janus bites back a grin at the tone, Remus rolls his eyes.

“I know it’s usually Roman’s job, but I’ve half a mind to start calling you daddy.”

“Remus!” Roman and Janus utter in unison. Roman looks mortified, Janus is fairly certain he’s high on endorphins because his laughter is starting to ache in delirium.

“Bullying goes two ways,” Remus shrugs, confiscating his partner’s coffee, who stares at his hand in confusion for a long moment before pouting. Janus decides he now knows far too much about Roman’s sex life. “And I was joking, but judging by how red Roman’s face is, I’m not wrong.”

“A gentleman never kisses and tells,” Patton beams, plonking himself down in Roman’s lap.

“You don’t really need to tell, the walls are very thin,” Remus quips back, before handing the coffee back to Janus, who looks like he’d like to be anywhere but listening to this conversation. “Let a man laugh, I almost died!”

“And that’s quite enough out of you,” Roman mutters, shaking his head, red as a tomato. But he looks happier to see Remus happier...and Janus is too. They’d both been dreading what would come next, if they’d have to console him, if he’d be angry or if he’d be melancholy, but true to Remus he’s up and down like a fucking rollercoaster. Janus isn’t entirely sure the other man knows how to get off this ride any more than they do.

Which is why it’s very important that Remus tells the truth, that he talks about what’s going on with someone.

Another knock on the door has Patton jumping out of Roman’s lap and shuffling awkwardly into the corner of the room, leaning against the windowsill as if it’s particularly interesting. The doctor walks in with a too-friendly smile, but his voice comes out soft and a little worried. “The psychiatrist is here to see you, Remus, will you be attending alone?”

“Yep,” Remus hums. He slides off the bed and winces a little, stretching out his legs with a grimace. “When am I getting this thing taken out?” He gestures to the cannula in his arm.

“We’ll get that taken out after your appointment.”

And then they’re both gone, leaving the three of them in the room to wait. “Do you think he’ll tell the truth?” Janus wonders aloud. They’ve both known Remus their entire lives, they know him better. Every day is a learning experience for Janus and although he cares for his partner greatly and adores him in ways words can’t express, he knows he does not know him better than his brother and best friend.

“I don’t know,” Roman replies gently. “I think he wants too, but…” he trails off, with a shrug. “It’s hard to tell with Remus, one minute he’s one way then another, up and down all the time, he’s not consistent in many things in his life and...lately he’s changing again.” Janus nods in response.

“I hope he does though,” Patton adds quietly. “He’s like a little brother to me, but sometimes I do wonder how much more of this I can take.” Roman nods in agreement. “It’s not his fault, I’m not angry with him or upset with him, it’s just hard living like this; I thought he was getting better and then suddenly he’s in the hospital again.”

“How many times has he done this?” Janus asks.

“Under the assumption that he was in a river for that reason, this would be his seventh suicide attempt,” Roman utters bluntly. Janus puts his coffee down because his stomach suddenly lurches very violently. “I did warn you.”

“I know, it’s okay,” the blond whispers quietly. “I want to help him, but...I can’t, can I?” He looks up at Patton, who knows far more about this stuff than he does.

“You can help, but...mental illness is not something you can stick a bandaid over and it’s fixed, right now you’re a bandaid, but what he’s got is a gunshot wound, and unless he gets professional help, he’s going to bleed himself dry; he needs real psychological help, and possibly medication, but the developments for this sort of thing still have a lot of work that needs doing.”

“Right.”

“It’s not easy, I know the sort of therapy he’d have to go through, I couldn’t imagine being able to stomach it either.” Patton looks down at the ground.

“You read a lot, don’t you?” Janus asks, the other man laughs softly, Roman looks up at his partner with this inch of pride. It must be wonderful to be looked at like that. Janus thinks doctors and nurses are kind of like superheroes, they work and work for next to nothing, except the need to help other people. He wouldn’t be able to stomach this job, and if there’s anything he knows about Patton who is eternally soft-hearted, he thinks that this man must be a whole lot braver than he is.

He must see people like this every single day and he just keeps going. Janus is surprised that there isn’t specialist therapy for nurses and doctors, who have to see the real horrors of the world.

“I have too, I’m going to be a doctor one day,” then Patton beams and Janus feels like everything is going to be just fine. He calls that the nurse effect, where they make you feel like there’s nothing that is ever going to go wrong whilst you're in their care.

When Remus returns he looks like he’s been dragged to hell and back, his eyes are puffy and his hands are shaking and he doesn’t think twice about curling up in Janus’ lap and burying his face in his neck. Janus, unsure entirely what to do, hugs him close and presses a kiss to the top of the brunet’s head. “I hated that.”

“I don’t think anyone enjoys it.” Remus nods. “What did he say?”

“Well I’m definitely traumatised, I’ve got to attend therapy at the adult psychological services and he offered me antidepressants, but apparently I need to read all the side effects first and have a talk with my GP.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“You’re telling me.” He takes a deep, shaky breath in “...but at least they’re letting me go, it’s just looking like I’m gonna have therapy.”

“That’s good.” Remus shoots him a look of distaste. “I know, but it is good.”

“Yeah, just not looking forward to it either.”

“I know but it will help.” Remus smiles at him, not happily, but in a comforting fashion, or perhaps the smile of someone who is comforted. All he really knows for that second, is maybe it will be worth it, maybe there is life on the other side of all of this.

4 notes · View notes

sooibian · 4 years

Text

Flambé (Preview)

poster and edits/collage credits to @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt !

🍜 pairing: kyungsoo x fem!reader

🍜 description: pull up a chair. take a taste. come join us. life is so endlessly delicious. - ruth reichl

🍜 themes: fluff, crack (ish), slight angst, a lil bit of spice (in the future), rivals to lovers au

🍜 word count: ~ 2.8k

🍜 a/n: a little preview of a chef kyungsoo story that i've been working on. while i have the plot fleshed out it'll honestly be a while before the long one/two-shot comes out since a lot of research goes into the details. and....i write at a snail's pace. thank you for your patience and lmk if you'd like a tag in the updates!

this story is inspired by a lot of random yt videos and netflix's shows - street food and chef's table.

tagging *deep breath* @j-pping and @changshapatrol (the real rotten banana is here!)

___________________________________________

Water bobbed in frenetic bubbles in a massive ancient stone pot that was perched atop a fort of raging wood. Amidst brutal peals of thunder, a gushing stream rose from a nearby hill, obscuring the shrill cries of the sacrificial crab.

Chanting a spell, you lifted the enormous crustacean by its pincers and lowered it into the growling, pitch black utensil. Blubbering helplessly, it lodged its claws at the rim of the pot in desperation - seeking escape. The sound of your maniacal laughter reverberated through the cave as you thrust it back into the violent undulation with the flick of a bladed-spatula.

All of a sudden, a wave of unconsciousness swept over you. You felt your skin singe as boiling water started to fill up your lungs.

You were alone - at the bottom of the very same utensil.

“Help!” frantic, you staggered up, gasping for air. But the bladed-spatula wielding crab, who was now free and hovering over you, roared at your defenseless form.

Maybe your spell didn't land, you thought.

“Please, Chef!” you whimpered.

In one swift motion, it swooshed down to your eye level.

Bushy black brows sprouted on its forehead, just a little over a pair of big brown circles for eyes. Then came the nose, followed by a bloody red mouth that snarled at you.

zzzz...

“Late again?” It drawled in a jarring tenor.

zzzz...

zzzz…

4:00 a.m., your phone blinked.

In a sleep befuddled state, your hand reached out for the wailing device. ‘Late again’, Chef’s cold, deep voice sounded in your consciousness as you wiped the droplets of sweat off your forehead.

Chef.

Doh Kyungsoo had insisted on the title and you'd defiantly refused to call him that. What business does a man working at a Kalguksu stand in Gwangjang Market have, being called a chef. You'd seeked redressal with the higher ups. The owner. Your aunt.

"Aegiya, he has something that you don't."

"A dick?"

"YAH! He has a degree in culinary arts. It's only befitting that we give him the respect his degree deserves!"

"Imo, haven't you watched Parasite? Anyone can forge documents these days and if so then why is he here? He could very well get a job at Four Seasons like Hyun Jin. Think, Imo. Think!”

“Exactly! With forged documents, he could be anywhere. But he’s here, no?”

“Maybe you’re just easier to manipulate.”

"Chef. You're calling him Chef."

Every time the egotistical madman opened that darned mouth of his, it made you want to knock him down with a roundhouse and beat the living daylights out of him.

But, with a deep breath, you always resisted the temptation.

Because one day, one glorious day, you’d take over your aunt’s business and the very first item on your agenda would be….well, the obvious. With a glimmer of hope, you floundered out of your comforter, muttering every cuss word you’d learnt...and crafted in the course of working with the devil himself.

“Ahh 3000 is a bit too much for cucumbers", he said to the middle aged vendor, flashing a boyish grin.

The face of sourcing had drastically changed in the last six months since Kyungsoo’s arrival. Prior to his dictatorship, your aunt had a tie up with some of the local vendors who’d hand deliver the produce every single day, without fail. Guess Kyungsoo didn’t fully comprehend the benefits of customer loyalty. ‘There could be better quality ingredients out there, Sajangnim...economically priced, I might add’, he’d convinced your aunt using his military corporal voice. No matter if it meant awkward break-ups with the vegetables ahjumma or the prawns ahjussi. You had to do the dirty work.

And tag along for the routine 5 a.m sourcing runs. Every morning, he greeted you with an accusatory ‘you’ve killed my cat’ expression.

You groaned, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. If only he’d quit flirting with every woman in the market and hurry up! The purchases had long exceeded the capacity of your humble cart. Flailing your numb arms awake, you urged him to speed up with a nudge of the knee but he glared at you like you’d asked him for a kidney.

Kyungsoo had a tendency to overbuy but never would he help with a single bag. ‘I don’t like to sweat’ was his excuse. Which was pretty ridiculous considering he spent over ten hours a day overseeing a scorching frying pan. But you knew better than to argue. Because as much as you loathed every fibre of his existence, he terrified you a little. The man possessed the duality of a psychopath. As fierce as he was in the Market, ruthlessly competitive even, he was quite the sweet talker. And you could bet your life on the fact that every woman - whether or not a rival - would take a bullet for him.

“Ahdeul-ah”, the woman cooed at him, making your insides violently contort, “you know how tight the market is these days. But I’ll throw in some more only for you.”

The additional weight of three kilos on your right arm ended your sourcing run for the day.

***

“Chef”, huffing, you said to him on your way out, “I had a late night last night.”

“And I need to be privy to this little nugget of unwarranted information because?” He paced ahead of you at his usual lightning speed.

“No, I meant, could we stop”, panting you continued, “could we stop for a quick cup of coffee.”

Halting abruptly, he turned around to look you in the eyes, “No.”

“Asshole!”

“I heard that.”

Monday at Choi Yoonsun’s was busier than usual.

It went by in a daze amidst a cacophony of a sizzling girdle, clanging of pots and pans and your aunt’s relentless vocalization inviting customers to the stall. Having served thousands of bowls of Kalguksu and Kimchi Mandu, you heavily relied on muscle memory to get you through a workday’s demands.

Despite its chaos and commotion, you quite enjoyed working in the Market.

One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.

At the end of yet another gratifying day, you left a wet towel soaking in vinegar for Kyungsoo to clean the iron girdle and proceeded to tend to the dirty dishes.

“Yahh!” Imo called out for Kyungsoo and you, thumping her hand on the table, gesturing for you to join her.

“Ahh! Imo, there’s a huge pile of dirty dishes!” You cried, only to turn around to find that ass-kisser already at the table, schmoozing with your aunt. Hastily taking off your grubby apron, you washed your hands and wiped them clean with a rag cloth. Straightening your black shirt and flattening unruly flyaways, you rushed toward the table but she was already up and ready to leave, “We’ll have dinner together tonight. I want to have a chat with the both of you.”

“But -”

“Sajangnim”, Kyungsoo interrupted, wagging a finger in your direction, “this one’s had a late night last night -”

“Chef! So I guess I’ll be seeing you tonight. As if seeing you every day of every week wasn’t enough already!”

An overtly saccharine smile spread across your face and his jaw tightened in response.

“Aish….you two...I’m leaving now”, she sighed, shaking her head, “see you both in two hours.”

Kimchi jjigae, pajeon, tteokbokki, jajangmyeon, some leftover bibimbap with sides galore from Hong Lim Banchan Stall. She clearly had something important to talk about.

But the vibe at the dinner table just didn’t sit right with you.

The reason could be the bespectacled black hole of negativity that was seated besides you in all black clothing but there was something off about Imo.

She was being a little too...nice.

Fear gradually started to settle in your bones. Was she finally closing down? Was this delectable fare an attempt at softening the blow? After all, she’d settled her husband’s debts and her sons were doing well for themselves. Quite well, in fact. One of them was a banker and the other even went to culinary school and was working as a chef at Four Seasons’ Chinese restaurant. It only made sense for her to trade the Market’s gruelling ways for some much deserved peace and quiet.

“We’re closing down the stall”, she said coolly.

It was like a punch in the gut.

“Imo -”

“Aga”, she said resting her chin on her hand, “the Market’s given me everything. It’s given me a sense of pride...a sense of independence. It put my family back together. I used to think that I’m nothing without my husband and my sons...but the Market gave me an identity.”

A million scenarios cascading through your head drowned out your aunt’s voice. Would you now have to go back to Bucheon? Or invest in a stall of your own at the traditional Gwangjang that’d never accept your big and bold ways with cooking? And to start from scratch? With a new recipe? Kalguksu with a twist, perhaps? But you had no insight into your aunt’s special broth. She’d barely even let you whip up the hand-cut noodles.

You realized that you weren’t the only one caught in the eye of the storm. Kyungsoo’s eyes were scarily fixated on the bowl of jajangmyeon before him. His seemingly miserable state gave you a fleeting sense of relief and it was right in that moment that he chose to say something unpalatable.

“Sajangnim, you’ve worked too hard. It’s time for you to reap the fruits of your labour. We’ll be fine you don’t have to worry about us.”

Of course he’ll be fine.

All the stall-owners in the Market have been vying for him ever since the day he set foot into Choi Yoonsun’s. Whereas, you had nowhere to go. The world conveniently assumes your aunt hired you only because you were her poor sister’s daughter who she sought to help financially. Not because you had what it took to be there and survive.

"Did I say I was ready to retire?” She laughed, eyeing Kyungsoo quizzically, leaving you dumbfounded.

“Here’s the thing..I met up with a friend last month. She was looking for a buyer for her little family run marinated crabs restaurant in Gangnam. So I took out a loan, made her an offer”, balling her hands into fists she sighed, “put in the deposit...and the place is pretty much mine now!”

“IMO!”, you yelled, “why did you scare me like that! I thought I was laid off!”

“Well, it’s a big move, I’m not sure the two of you are ready to make...requires a tonne of work and I may not be able to pay half of what you earned at the Market for at least two months until we open! It’ll take us two years or so to break even and only then will I be able to afford you a pay raise. I could help you get a job at the banchan stall since you love seasoned spinach so much and Kyungsoo stands a chance at even managing one of the Pakgane stalls!”

Pakgane was the mung bean pancake stall that had gotten so popular that the owner had managed to branch out of Gwangjang. So even your beloved aunt believed that you’d make for a better “help” and Kyungsoo, a Manager.

Ugh!

“I’m coming with you”, you said firmly, “I’ve saved up a little and Mom will gladly pitch in, if need be...”

At this point, you’d expected Kyungsoo to be ready with his luggage considering the little sycophant he was but his expression was stoic, eyes still glued to the jajangmyeon bowl. It filled you with insane hope.

He was going to jump the ship...finally!

“Chef...”, you couldn’t resist, “you don’t have to worry about us...I’m more than enough for Imo. You may...”

He shot you an angry glare making you chew on your unsaid words. But you wanted to rile him just a little more. So you excused yourself to bring a bottle of ketchup and squeezed it generously atop the stack of pajeon while eyeing him maliciously.

Ketchup.

The tangy, unassuming condiment was the sole reason Kyungsoo despised you. As this dinner marked the end of his torturous regime, you celebrated with ketchup - lots of it - right in front of his nasty eyes.

Steam swirled in different directions and at every twenty metres a contrastive redolence tickled your olfactory senses. Experiencing Gwangjang as a customer was a far richer experience compared to the donkeywork involved in a life as a vendor.

A proper send-off was essential lest Kyungsoo decided to stay, even if it burned a hole in your pocket. You planned on giving him a final tour of the Market where he (and you) could say his goodbyes while receiving a premium fuel of vitamins, minerals and carbs.

A whole lot of carbs.

“Let’s start with Pakgane”, said Kyungsoo, with a skewered sausage in his hand.

You shook your head in response. You wanted to start with the best and mung bean pancakes weren’t it. This was going to be a farewell he’d never forget.

With every step you took, the aroma of scallops drizzled with butter and cheese grew stronger. You started your tour by ordering two portions of the delectable street food which set you back considerably. But you were too elated to care. You refused Kyungsoo’s offer to pay as the woman set the scallops on fire with a blow torch.

“Do you know what that technique’s called?” Kyungsoo gave a little nod in the direction of the aflame food.

Another teachable moment.

You’d made a firm resolve to not let any of his condescension bog you down so with a sweet smile, you replied, “No, Chef. I do not.”

“Flambé. But minus the alcohol. Do you know how they manage that?”

The ahjumma came to your rescue and you jumped to collect the order. You could’ve sworn that you caught the corner of his mouth twitch slightly.

***

The Market supposedly looked the same as it did fifty years ago and you quite enjoyed eating your way through it. The tour made your heart grapple with nostalgia even though your partner’s personality was akin to a mug of insipid coffee.

Although you’d spent only a little over a year with Choi Yoonsun, the goodbyes were long and hard. Some of the vendors squeezed you and Kyungsoo in heart wrenching hugs, the others gave you a little cash to help you through the transition and for some of the food, you paid in smiles and love.

After a gastronomic fiesta that entailed tteokbokki, pajeon (minus the ketchup - you did it Kyungsoo’s way), sashimi, kimbap, different types of banchan, a thousand more teachable moments, the both of you ended the day on a sweet note with hotteok.

The ahjussi wished you both luck, making you choke back tears.

Kyungsoo noticed.

“Are you…. Is the hotteok spicy? No, I mean it’s obviously not...erm”

The dam of your tears burst.

You were going to miss this place. Even the less appealing aspects of it. You were going to miss the kimbap unnie who greeted you with a hug everyday, also the snooty mandu ahjumma who could hardly stand the sight of you. You were even going to miss washing dishes in the winters with water that was supposed to be ice and the sweltering summers which had you sweating through every layer of clothing.

Hell, you were even going to miss Kyungsoo.

“No”, you sniffled, “No, no Chef, it’s nothing. Take care of yourself. As much as I’m glad that our fateful working relationship has met its rightful end, I truly, genuinely, wish you luck. And learn to smile more often, yeah?”

“Are you dying?” He gleamed.

“What? NO! What? You’re leaving. What is wrong with you?”

“Who says I’m leaving?”

“You! You’re not coming with us to Gangnam!”

“Says who?”

“Your stupid face that looked like it was hit by a freight train when Imo broke the news last week!”

“I’m not leaving?” He mused.

“This is no time to joke, Chef. You are leaving!”

“Says who!”

“Your stu-”

“Stupid face? I wasn’t planning on leaving at all. I’ve even found myself a place close to the restaurant. Oh yeah, sorry for having misled you. It was really just - my stupid face.”

122 notes · View notes

polandspringz · 4 years

Text

Haru Gets Kidney Stones- A Balance: Unlimited Crack Fic

Did I write this? Yes. Do I regret it? Yes. Does it now exist? Yes.

At long last, I return to the Balance: Unlimited fandom with my promised (albeit cursed) fic, and just in time for the series to resume its broadcast! This fic was suggested to me by my beta-reader, Tom, after I made him read two fics in which I broke Haru's ribs, and he suggested a more "creative" way for me to injure my characters. As much as I found this idea completely cursed, the response on my last fic was that people were interested? So, here it is.

This is a relatively short fic, so I’ll post it below. Please consider leaving comments on AO3 using the link in the notes!!! It will help my writing gain more readers, and you can find my other, more serious Balance: Unlimited fics there too.

“You know, Katou-san-”

“Shut it, Kanbe-san. I don’t want to hear anything out of you.”

Haru folded his arms and settled back against the pillows of the hospital bed, eye twitching as he glared down the white sheets that seemed to stretch on endlessly. Daisuke’s eyes skimmed over the IV tube sticking out Haru’s arm as it made a jostling noise with his movement, the plastic bag it was attached to crinkling when it knocked against the stand after being tugged.

“Katou-san-”

“I said be quiet, Kanbe.”

“Katou-san, unless you want the nurses to get mad at you again, I suggest you take better care of your IV. Or do you want them to have to administer the needle in your arm when you accidentally pull it out again?”

Haru shivered, the memory of the nurses jabbing him with the syringe making him cringe and he sunk further into the pillows. He did loosen his arms a little bit, letting them both lay flat on either side of him. Daisuke, who was still looming over him, sighed and pulled up the cheap plastic chair to sit down.

“You could get better treatment at one of my private hospitals. You could be back at work within a few hours if you really wanted to.”

“As if I would want to be anywhere near an institution you own,” Haru scoffed, “You’ll just peek at all my medical files and use it to lecture me on more things while we’re on a case.”

Daisuke felt it best to withhold the fact that he had purchased the hospital this morning, upon learning from the HUESC that Haru had been admitted there. He had not had time to switch the staff though, as he knew Haru would get suspicious if a new doctor was assigned to him coincidentally around the time that Daisuke arrived.

And he may have had a look at Haru’s medical records. But that was simply because he wanted to know whether he should force Haru to be airlifted to be treated by his personal doctor. Instead, he was met with a diagnosis that was…

“Besides,” Haru grumbled, “They said it’s better to see what they can find after the IV… you know,” he gestured with his good arm, “flushes it out. I don’t need surgery yet.”

Daisuke took a deep breath and folded his hands in front of his face, tapping his two forefingers against the bridge of his nose.

“I still cannot believe you got kidney stones.”

“Hey! It happens to a lot of people my age! And what are you surprised about?” Haru sat up in the bed and violently pointed an accusatory finger at his partner, “Weren’t you about to go on a tangent about this being because I eat ramen all the time?”

“While I was going to comment on your diet,” Daisuke said calmly and slowly, “I don’t think you should consider this ‘normal’ for someone like you.”

“The doctor said-”

“I know what the doctor said,” Daisuke held up a hand, and pinched in between his eyes as he felt a small headache ebbing at Haru’s shouting, “But Katou-san, you are a detective, and are quite physically fit. Even though you’re not in First Division anymore, I’ve seen you chase criminals down-”

“Yeah, meanwhile you’re watching from a car or some fancy helicopter-”

“-And it doesn’t make sense. Why are you always overworking yourself trying to do things the hard way?”

“You know why!” Haru started to sit up even more, folded his knees under him as he shoved the finger even more in Daisuke’s face, “It’s cause you never communicate with me! You’re always off doing things on your own and never listen to me! I’m older so-”

“-and stubborn, and I could fairly say you just as equally don’t communicate with me.”

Daisuke grabbed ahold of Haru’s hand and pushed it down so he could stop leaning away from the finger trying to poke his eye out.

“Katou-san, I respect you, I promise. But you are never willing to listen to what data I’ve gathered, which could significantly speed up our time spent solving the case.”

“That’s because your data is always gathered using stupid, disingenious methods with your money-!” Haru suddenly grabbed his stomach, and stumbled backwards. Daisuke stood up, hands following him to help him ease back into the bed, being careful of the IV tube that was still being dragged about carelessly by the older man.

“Do you want me to call the nurse?”

“Ha, no. I would rather die than let you see me weak.”

Daisuke’s eyes narrowed, and he placed a hand on either side of the hospital bed railing, caging the other man in.

“Katou-san, are you not feeling weak now? You’re sweating.”

“I am not!”

“You’re obviously in pain, and I am concerned. I came here before work to check up on you. Why are you being so obstinate?”

Haru raised his hand and pushed Daisuke’s shoulder, shoving him off, “Ugh, I get it! I get, okay! Stop being so weird about everything.”

“I’m only being weird, as you put it, because I am worried. I do not want to have my partner out sick more days than necessary.”

“As if you need me,” Haru scoffed again, holding his stomach as another sharp pain went through the back of him.

“Stop that.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Stop saying things like that. Stop acting as if you’re disposable.”

“Well to you I’m sure I am-”

“Katou-san, for the last time, listen to me.”

Daisuke was standing beside Haru’s bed like he was when he first came in, but something about his tone drew Haru out of his ranting and made him pay attention. Daisuke’s face was schooled though, the only place giving away any emotion were his gloved hands, clenching at his sides as he stared down at his partner.

“It is not good for you to keep acting this way. I know we may have different approaches to cases, but I truly do respect your opinion. I value you as a partner, and would be devastated if something happened because of your own stupidity and obstinance. Please understand, I just want you to start listening to me. I’ve been watching you for months now, and I’ve seen the way you throw yourself into every case. The little things, like you living off of ramen and junk food, it’s led to this. I’m not saying that those specific things will lead to your downfall, but if you keep running yourself ragged with no sleep and stressing out about everything, it’s going to add up.”

Haru blinked at Daisuke, stunned, but when Haru didn’t respond, Daisuke turned and started to stroll out of the room.

“Wait! Kanbe-san!”

Daisuke paused at the foot of the bed, hands in his coat pockets as he regarded Haru with a cold look.

“What?”

“Listen, I’m-”

“I’m always listening to you, Katou-san.”

“No, I-” He threw his hands in the air and groaned, “You know what I mean! Look, I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m an idiot, I’ve been eating nothing but junk for the past year or so, and now I’m stuck here. You’re completely right.”

“Alright,” Daisuke said, shifting his foot as he turned to face Haru again. He was waiting for more, and Haru tried to not let out another groan as he realized this.

“I’m in a lot of pain right now, but I promise I’m not just saying this because I don’t want you to use your money to make my treatment a living hell or anything-”

“Katou-san, if you think I would do that, then you clearly didn’t hear what I-”

“I promise, I’ll listen to you when I’m back at work. I can’t promise I’ll do it all the time, but I’ll make an effort to hear you out more.”

Haru looked to the floor beyond the bedside railing, “It’ll probably take some practice, I’m still going to be pretty opposed to your underhanded tactics, but if we start small, then maybe I’ll be less likely to run off without you. I know I’ve done that a few times.”

Haru lifted his head, and gave Daisuke a small smile.

“Understood, I’ll start by telling you when to start eating healthier.”

“Good. Now, Kanbe-san, can you do one thing for me?”

“Hm?”

“Get out of here so I can call the nurse without seeing your smug face.”

“As you wish,” Daisuke said, and as he walked towards the door, one of the doctors nearly banged into him.

“Oh, Kanbe-san! Good thing I caught you. Katou-san’s test results just came back and-”

Daisuke leaned over the clipboard as the doctor began to flip through the papers, and Haru rose like the dead off of his pillows as he grabbed the tissue box on the nightstand and chucked it at Daisuke’s head.

“I knew you read my files! Asshole!”

Haru ended up getting his IV reinserted for the third time that day.

If you liked, please consider click the link to AO3 in the notes to leave a kudos and/or a comment!

#tom i know you said today $5 for the exploding confetti fic but im pretty sure you promised me $5 for this too #balance unlimited #fugou keiji balance: unlimited #fugou keiji balance unlimited #the millionaire detective balance: unlimited #the millionaire detective #katou haru #kambe daisuke #kanbe daisuke #my writing #fic #my fics

7 notes · View notes

stateofgrace1303 · 5 years

Text

My chronic illness, how it started.

*Can you guys please reblog and/or tag Taylor?? I really want her to read

this. I want this to get to her and I'll take any help I can get. I rarely ask this but it'd mean to world to me. I wanna get my story

out there (even if this is only a part of the entire story. The rest I

might post sometime if you guys want me too. I think I did include

everything I wanted to for now though). Just thank you all so much!!! I

love you all ❤*

(Im really sorry about how long this is. Its like a little novel. Plus I'm

OCD and tend to talk/rant until it feels just right... I just wanted to

share it with all of you, since its something I would've shared on TSL,

even though it'd probably be too long for there... But I wanted to share it

here because most of those swifties can be found on tumblr, and I want you

all to hear this... Maybe it'll even get to Taylor too. But please read if

you can. It'd mean a lot to me. Also I tried writing this but then it got

deleted when I tried posting it, so hopefully this one posts (I ended up trying to post this ALL DAY. I'm so glad it's finally up).)

Hey Swifties! So, I thought I would post this because its something I'd

post on TSL if it was still around, as I shared pretty much my whole life

on there, and I always found swifties very easy to talk to (plus you're all

just the nicest people)! So, I wanted to share this on here since most

swifties can be found on tumblr. I'm sure i talked a little bit about this

on tsl (my user was stateofgrace1303, same as on here and ig) but I wanted

to tell you guys more, especially because its getting so much more intense

now and like I said I've always found swifties very easy to talk to you.

Basically, when I was 12, my dad took me to see the RED tour at Gillette

Stadium. We had gone to see the Speak Now tour there and I had been

completely wonderstruck (no pun intended) by Taylor that night. I was 10 at

the speak now tour and had idolized Taylor since I was 6 and she put out

TOMG (and I was known as the Taylor Swift girl by now at my school). So

even though I was 10 I asked my dad, if I save up the money will you take

me to see her when she comes again? And he said yes. About 2 weeks before

the show, I had saved up enough. He didn't think i could do it, but I did.

So, I got tickets and we went to the tour. But when I was walking towards

the stadium (we had parked in a lot right down the street), my vision

became weird, almost like tunnel vision although nothing was turning black

around the edges of my vision. My feet looked very far away from me.

Suddenly, a rush of dizziness came over me and instinctively i grabbed onto

my dads arm to keep from falling down. He asked if I was okay and I could

barely get out words for some reason. I was starting to sweat and we

thought maybe i was dehydrated, so we got into the stadium as quickly as

possible. I was gripping onto everything around me to keep from falling,

but eventually we got into the stadium and I got some water. We had seats

on the field, so that's where I was, drinking some water when suddenly I

was pretty sure I was going to throw up. It was starting to get super

uncomfortable so my dad brought my to the first aid, which was actually

right at the enterance on the field. So when we went in there my dad told

them what was going on and they all looked at me weird and said "people

never get sick. We usually treat bee stings and allergic reactions. We

almost never have people get sick" which actually surprised me. But, they

took me back and laid me down. Almost immediately I started puking. The

nurse I had actually had just had a baby and had some anti nausea

medication on her. So, she gave me that but it didn't work. And I just got

worse. My dad went to find me something to eat so I'd have something in my

stomach. He came back with some chips and iced/frozen lemonade but I threw

up every time. I was so dizzy at this point I was gripping onto the bed

they had me on and puking my guts out, as well as sweating a lot. After a

while, as it only got worse, they actually thought I might have had food

posioning and asked what I ate. But there they noticed something. I was

completely white. Like white as a ghost. Except for my lips, which were

turning blue. And I was struggling to breathe. They wanted to take me to

Boston Childrens and my dad asked if I wanted to, but it was Taylor. I

couldn't miss it. So I said no for that reason. But actually, everyone at

the stadium was trying to get me tickets for the show the next night as she

was playing two nights. Security guards, the nurses, my dads girlfriend...

But nobody could get tickets in the end which was okay. But later my dad

went and for a list of everybody's set times. I had been in first aid for

about an hour at this point. He came back with the list and said "I promise

I will not let you miss them" he said and pointed to Ed Sheerans name, then

Taylor, since I was a huge Ed fan as well. He knew I probably wouldn't be

able to stay, but even seeing them for a minute would've been perfect to

me. Another hour had passed, and I was still there in the same condition.

It was terrifying, and they were really pushing me to go to the hospital

(they wanted to call an ambulance because they actually thought something

very bad might happen if they didn't). But I keep pushing that off because

I wanted to see Taylor and Ed so badly. But, 2 hours I had been there in

the same condition, puking up everything, completely white with blue lips,

struggling to breathe, so dizzy I couldn't even sit up. It was starting to

get painful honestly. So, I suddenly just burst out crying. I was just a 12

year old who wanted to see my idol, and I got this... This weird sickness,

and got stuck in first aid. In so much pain. I didn't even really

understand what was happening. I had always been a sick kid. Always getting

colds and infections. In fact, I almost died as a baby from a problem with

my kidneys, and had become septic. Its a miracle I lived. But I had never

experienced anything like this... And to experience it when I was just

trying to see my idol? When it was only my second concert ever? It crushed

me tbh. My dad asked what was wrong and I finally said the words I had been

avoiding all night... "I wanna go home" (which was actually his

girlfriend's house who lived in Boston... I'm from Maine). And he said

"okay". That was all he needed and he left, walking back towards where we

left the car. However, around 7:30ish the traffic in this area is really

weird I cant even explain it. But traffic can only go one way, instead of

both ways like normal.. So he couldn't get a ride back to the car and had

to walk, and then drive the car in traffic all the way to the stadium to

pick me up. So i had to wait a while, and while I did I heard clapping and

then a British voice say "hello Boston" and he started playing give me

love. I listened to him play and i only cried more because I was so

frustrated I couldn't go out there to see him. About half way through the

set, my dad showed up. They let him park in a no parking zone to come and

get me so he was right next to the enterance to the field. They were going

to put me in a wheelchair, but instead my dad came and helped me up. He was

holding me up straight and almost dragged me out of the first aid station,

into the stadium. I remember this part so well. The air hit me, I heard

Ed's voice clearly and saw him on stage, and suddenly, I let go of my dad,

and I was able to stand on my own... And I was fine. It was like a miracle.

I yelled to my dad over the music "is it too late to stay?" And he screamed

back "what??? After all that you wanna stay???" And I said yes, so, we

stayed. He went to go move the car (the girl was so nice who did the

parking, he told her the story, and he just needs to park the car and het

back in the stadium, how much would it cost. And the girl said park

wherever you want no charge. I thought that was seriously the sweetest

thing.) Sooo he did that, and since I was only 12 in a huge stadium, one of

the cops that was patroling the place stayed with me and asked me all kinds

of questions about Ed Sheeran, especially about the A-Team, when he played

it. He said "this isn't his song right?? Is this a cover?? I know this

song." And I told him it wad and told him all about it. It was the ideal

conversation for 12 year old me 😂 Anyway, my dad came back, we got to our

seats, and I actually met Andrea for a very brief moment! And before I knew

it, Taylor was playing. And I had made it through the entire show. I woke

up the next morning, still feeling a little sick but actually felt better

after eating, so I thought the worst was over. But, I was wrong... I didn't

know that one night would become my life... And god I wish I had gone to

the hospital... Maybe I would be okay now if I had... But anyway... A month

later (in August), it happened at my friends end of summer party. Then a

month later (in September), while I was at school... Each time worse than

the time before. Everyone had been informed I was having issues, but nobody

had seen anything happen yet. I seemed like myself. Then one day, I was on

my way to lunch with my friends, and I collapsed in the hallway... Same

thing happening. All my friends freaked out and 2 stayed with me while the

rest went to get the nurse. She actually thought I was dying, and honestly

I could've. She called my mom and said she wasn't sure if she should call

my mom or an ambulance. Then my mom came and got me and immedaitly took me

to my doctor (because she said next time it happens to come in so they

could monitor me). I was monitored and fell asleep, then 4 hours later i

woke up like nothing happened. After that i was pulled out of school and

constantly at the doctor. And I just got sicker and sicker... Which was

later diagnosed as... "Anxiety". By an unqualified doctor. He was a thyroid

doctor and diagnosed me with that?? As time went on, I got incredibly sick

to the point I can't even move. I have become completely disabled and lose

control of my body a lot. It's like my brain is disconnected from my body.

And I get this weird feeling im falling off a cliff and I cant feel my arms

and when that happens, I cant move at all. I cant even express how bad it

can get, how scary and painful it is. I'm a lot sicker than most people

think I am... I spend most days in bed, actually unable to move. I find

ways to keep my spirits up, luckily. Mostly its listening to Taylor and

watching friends but yeah 😂 I have days where I can't even sit up I'm so

dizzy and weak and it hurts so much. Its also terrifying when you don't

have full control over your own body. Absoultely terrifying. Although I

have okay days where I can stand up and function for a little bit, most

days lately have been like this... Bad and living from my bed due to

weakness and dizziness (extreme dizziness honestly). I have days where its

even a struggle to breathe, the most simple thing in the world. It gets

depressing at times... When you spend all ur time in bed or a wheelchair it

really can vet discouraging... But I'm still fighting. And I'm so happy I

am. And like I said, Taylor always lifts me up. Even on my worst, most

disabled and bed ridden days. Oh, that reminds me... I also have seizures

now, sadly. But I hadn't had what happened that night at the RED tour in a

while though... Until one night last year... While I was seeing Ed Sheeran

in Gillette Stadium 😂 Maybe its him?? I dont know 😂 Anyway, I spend most

days in bed, and I do online schooling now. I've seen Taylor twice since

then. For 1989 and for reputation. With 1989 I needed a lot of help but I

got through it. Reputation, it had gotten so bad I needed a wheelchair and

I still do whenever I go out, really. I dont have full control over my body

and I'm too weak and just very sick. I'm really hoping to go to lover fest

but if i do will need a wheelchair and even then I'll probably still feel

sick... But Taylors worth it ❤ Hopefully can get ada seating like with rep.

Wanted to keep this last part short but I think I failed 😂 Mainly wanted

to focus on the red tour. My health story is so incredibly long, I couldn't

say it all (maybe I will later). However, for now, I will tell you this, I

was diagnosed with a thyroid disease, migraines, and seizures. Then it was

discovered that all of this... Was advanced Lyme Disease... And it created

something called Dysautonomia (basically a disfunction of the autonomic

nervous system, which most people don't even realize they have, or how

important it is, until it makes you sick and either nearly kills or

cripples you... Depending on the kind though.) Also known as POTS, or

Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (there are actually 15 kids of

dysautonomia, that being one of them, I might possibly have more than one

kinda, were not sure yet. But its basically half cardiology half

neurology). And there's no cure... I could be this way, this disabled and

sick for a while... But there are treatments that might work luckily!!!

Since there are no Dysautonomia clinics in Maine, I either have to go to

New York, Baltimore, Cleveland, or Minneapolis. So looks like im taking a

trip! Sadly to a hospital, but still 😊 I honestly don't know how we'll pay

for it, but I need it, or I will spend my life like this. So I'm sure we'll

find a way... Like I always seem to do in life, no matter what 😊❤ Oh, and

funny thing is, I have something called PANS as well... So I have Pots and

Pans 😂😂😂 Anyway, I just wanted to share this with you guys because like

I said you guys are always so great and Taylor is my favorite artist so I

wanted to share it with the people who understand my love for her. I've

been a huge fan of her for 13 years (I'm 18, 19 next month, now). Theres

something about her... She's always helped me but especially now. She makes

me so happy and feel so safe during this time... Im fact, the only time i

smile like i did when I was younger,before all of this, is when I listen to

Taylor. I even have a Long Live tattoo on my wrist because I felt it

represented my love for her the most, and what we've made as a fandom, the

magic we've created. Plus, it reminds me that I'm fighting my battle (this

"dragon") with Taylor and her music on my side, as well as all of you. And

it makes me smile. I can't wait to get more Taylor tattoos... Honestly,

after all of this and the other health issues I faced as a baby and a

child, I can't believe I'm still here, that I'm still living... Especially

because since I've always been so sick with so many different illnesses and

health issues to the point I'm disabled, my immune system is so weak. I

truly cannot believe I'm still here. But... I guess my body just isn't

ready to give up. It hasn't yet at least!!! And it doesn't want to. It

won't. I'm strong. Me, and my body, want to fight until the very end. And

I'm grateful for that. So grateful that I am still alive, and still

fighting every day of my life. It might be hard, and I can't function or do

really anything but lay in bed and watch tv most days, but I'm just so

thankful that I'm still alive, that it's okay I have to be at the doctors

so much and have to take all these meds (I do anything at this point that

can help me even the slighest). And no matter what life throws at my

health, my body always fights it and gets right back up. I fall down 10

times, I stand up 11. And I could not have the courage and strength to do

this if it wasn't for my idol, Taylor Swift. I've been a fan of Taylor for

13 years (I'm 18 now, 19 next month) so her and her music have helped me

through every problem I have ever faced, and this is no different. She has

a song for everything, so I can always find something to listen to that

makes me feel like she understands and she's telling me it'll be okay...

And ever since LOVER came out, I've been listening to soon you'll get

better on days its really bad, and my girlfriend sends me that song on bad

days too... It makes me feel safe. And like I can fight this. Thank you,

Taylor. I will never be able to repay you. I may struggle with this every

single day im here on earth, but with your music and the support I feel

from the swiftie fam, I know I'll get through it. Anyway... I guess I

should end this here. Again, sorry this is so long but if you read this

thank you so much for taking the time to!! If you made it to this point,

I'm proud 😂❤ And it means the world to me, you have no idea. Im hoping

this will get to Taylor and maybe even Ed one day. I love you all so much

and once again, thank you for reading!! ❤❤❤

@taylorswift @taylornation 🌈❤ @taylornotices 💜

(Pic is from when I was in First Aid at Ed Sheeran. It was so bad there

they had to give me an IV. I was in the first aid station, wrapped up in my

nightmare before Christmas blanket, on a stretcher with an IV in my hand

pretty much the entire night. It was so painful. When I arrived to first

aid I was actually unresponsive. Like I knew what was happening but I

couldn't talk or open my eyes. All I could do was make very small

movements. It felt like my body was shutting down. I was having bad heart issues as well and they wanted to give me a medicine fot my nausea but since I had lyme disease it could make my heart issues worse so they had to give me an EKG... Right there at the concert 😂 Interesting... But, I got through it.

Like always 😊 So yeah thats where the

picture is from ❤)

#taylurking #taylorswift #taylorstans #taylornation #red #redtour #edsheeran #lymedisease #dysautonomia #taylorlurking #i love you taylor #tay #usertaylornotices #tswift

99 notes · View notes