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ukiyowi · 8 months

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Channelled Messages 💌

Channelling messages from your: Future Spouse, Closest Friends, Spirit Guides, and Future Self

Note: Please DM me if you want a reading I am going to be putting a discount on all my readings because I am in a rough spot financially and need to pay money for my room which I was not aware of earlier and could be kicked out if I don't at the earliest. Book a reading || Tip me! (Ko-fi)

♡ Future Spouse

♡ Closest Friends

♡ Spirit Guides

♡ Future Self

Future Spouse

💌 Pile 1

My Love,

I imagine us walking hand in hand through the seasons of life, supporting each other through every victory and challenge. Together, we will create a collage of memories, painting the canvas of our shared life with love, laughter, and endless adventures.

I promise to be your biggest cheerleader, your confidant in times of doubt, and your unwavering support through thick and thin. I vow to cherish and respect you for the unique individual that you are, appreciating both your strengths and your vulnerabilities.

You are scarred right now but theres no reason to be. You are so filled with love and light and everything good, just because someone else cannot see it does not mean it doesnt exist. If I could bring you the moon and the stars I would in an instant. I don't think there has ever been or will ever be someone who is as bright as you.

Please take care of your health, you cannot make excuses for bad habits and keep living life like that, no matter how stressful work or life is please make time for yourself. We still have a while to meet so take care of yourself for both you and I.

Song: It's a Shame - The Spinners

💌 Pile 2

Hey Darling,

Our connection, I believe, will be deeper than words can express. It will be built on trust, respect, and a genuine desire to see each other flourish. While I can't predict the future, I am steadfast in my commitment to cherishing every moment we have together.

We have met before, I don't think you remember me, but I do. your beauty had me stunned and so did your mannerisms. I admire the way you carry yourself, with so much dignity and poise, as if the personification of grace itself were standing in front of me, sweeping me off of my feet.

I will shower you with anything you want, praise, adoration, gifts, love, time, energy, and be there whenever you need. Life is probably fun for you right now, unfortunately for me the road is a little rocky. Enjoy this time with your friends and family, your loved ones truly care about you and want what's best for you even if they can't articulate it well.

Stay strong butterflly and look for me in your dreams, I promise to be a frequent visitor. hope you likfe sunflowers, lillies, and magnolias angel.

Song: Mango bananas - Flyana Boss

💌 Pile 3

Hi sweetheart!!

I have a feeling that when we finally meet, there's going to be a bell that rings making us instantly know like it did in Your Name, also hope you like animation because I love it, I also really like drawing and art, do you? Please say yes!

Life seems to be going too fast for you right now so you need to make sure that you don't lose yourself in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Calm down and do things you enjoy, maybe you'll like pottery!

But beyond the laughter and silliness, I want you to know that I'm dead serious about creating a remarkable life together. We'll support each other's dreams, even if they involve opening a cat cafe or becoming professional trampoline testers (hey, it's a thing, right?). We'll navigate the ups and downs of life hand in hand, and I promise to be your rock when you need it most.

Song: Glue Song - beabadoobee

xoxo

Closest Friends

💌 Pile 1

Life has been quite the rollercoaster lately, filled with its usual ups and downs. I've had my fair share of challenges, but there have also been some incredible moments that I wish I could have shared with you in person.

I often find myself reminiscing about the good old days when we used to spend hours talking and laughing about anything and everything . Those memories are some of my most cherished, and I truly miss you.

Please know that no matter where life takes us or how much time passes, you will always hold a special place in my heart. Your friendship has been a source of strength, laughter, and endless support, and I'm incredibly grateful for that.

Let's make a promise to catch up soon, whether it's over a cup of coffee or a long, heartfelt phone call. I genuinely look forward to hearing how you've been and sharing all the stories we've missed out on.

With love,

Initials may include: R, P, W, Q, L

Song: Window - Still Woozy

💌 Pile 2

Leaving behind the place we've called home for so long is both exciting and bittersweet. While new opportunities wait and adventures call, it's hard not to feel a tinge of sadness at the thought of being farther away from you.

Although physical distance may separate us, please know that you will always hold a special place in my life. Our bond is not defined by geography but by the strong connection we share.

And the internet exists so we'll be fine right? You promise to not lose touch with me even when we're both busy? I promise I will remember to call you, if not daily then weekly, please don't forget me.

I wish you could join me and we could embark on this together but life has its ways of separating the best people we've met so that we are forced to widen our horizons and social circles lol, hope it's not too much for either you or me.

Will miss you,

Initials pulled: A, J, M, S, K

Song: Missin something - Zach Templar

💌 Pile 3

I love the days we've shared and I wish to share so many more with you in the future, god I am so so so excited for everything thats to come!

Do you remember that time we decided to go on that impromptu road trip? No plans, no GPS, just a car full of snacks, good music, and an unshakable belief that we'd find our way eventually. We got lost more times than I can count, but it was so much fun and truly unforgettable.

And how about those late-night conversations that somehow turned into early-morning confessions? We've solved the world's problems over a cup of lukewarm coffee more times than I can recall. The neighbors must have wondered if we were running a 24-hour café.

As I sit here reminiscing about these and countless other memories, I can't help but smile. Our friendship has been a rollercoaster of laughter, silliness, and genuine connection. And I wouldn't trade a single moment of it for anything in the world.

Sending you a virtual high-five and a whole lot of fond memories, here's to hundreds more, and don't forget about the promise we made about the weddings okay?

Your platonic soulmate,

Initials may include: G, H, B, L, T

Song: Right Here, For Now - Bakar

xoxo

Spirit Guides

💌 Pile 1

Embrace change with an open heart and a curious mind. Life is a series of shifts and transitions, and it's in these moments of change that growth and self-discovery thrive. Trust in your ability to adapt and evolve, for you possess the resilience needed to navigate uncharted waters.

As you progress in your career, always remember that your passion and purpose are the compass that should guide you. Pursue work that aligns with your values and fulfills your soul. Don't be afraid to explore different paths and take calculated risks. Each experience contributes to your growth and wisdom.

Learning is a lifelong journey, and each lesson learned is a stepping stone to your personal and professional development. Stay committed to your goals, and never underestimate the power of continued learning.

There may be moments of doubt or uncertainty along the way, but listen to your heart's desires and the quiet whispers of your soul, for they will guide you toward your true purpose.

Above all, be patient and compassionate with yourself. Success is not defined by a straight path but by the lessons learned along the way. Embrace each setback as an opportunity to grow stronger and wiser.

Song: Everything Has Changed - Taylor Swift

💌 Pile 2

In matters of the heart, we see the longing in your soul for a deep and meaningful connection. First and foremost, we urge you to be patient with yourself. Love is a delicate dance, and it often takes time to find the right partner who truly understands and appreciates you.

As you seek love, remember the importance of self-love. Nurture your own well-being, both physically and emotionally. Don't be insecure about your quirks and imperfections, for they are the qualities that make you beautifully you. When you love yourself wholeheartedly, you become a magnet for the love you desire.

When it comes to romantic relationships, let go of preconceived notions and allow yourself to be pleasantly surprised. Love can appear in unexpected places and forms. Stay open to meeting new people and exploring connections that may not fit your usual "type." Sometimes, the greatest love stories are the ones that defy expectations.

Communication is the foundation of any healthy relationship. Be brave in expressing your feelings, needs, and desires. Equally important, listen to your partner with an open heart. True intimacy is born from understanding and genuine connection.

Whoever, you're thinking of, is not the one, set the standards high and do not settle for something that does not align with what you can give as well.

Song: Scared - Jeremy Zucker

💌 Pile 3

Know that you are never alone. We are always by your side, watching over you, and guiding you in subtle ways. We see your potential and your inner light, and we are here to help you recognize and nurture these gifts.

Trust in your intuition, for it is the voice of your soul and the channel through which we communicate with you. In times of uncertainty, turn inward and listen to the whispers of your heart, for they will lead you toward your true path.

Embrace the lessons that life presents, for they are opportunities for growth and self-discovery. Challenges are not obstacles but stepping stones on your journey to becoming the best version of yourself.

Surround yourself with positive influences and kindred spirits who uplift and support your journey. Let go of relationships that drain your energy and hinder your growth. Create a circle of love and support that nurtures your soul.

Find joy in the simple pleasures of life. Take time to savor a cup of tea, watch a sunrise, or feel the grass beneath your feet. These moments of presence are where true happiness resides.

Song: July - Noah Cyrus

xoxo

Future Self

💌 Pile 1

Darling, I cannot even start to tell you how good life is right now for me, and eventually for you. I know you are currently going through a rough patch, and as cliche as this sounds, I want you to know that every storm you're weathering now is bringing you closer to the sunshine that awaits you.

In my time, I've seen how the challenges you're facing today have shaped you into the resilient, compassionate, and wise person I've become. The setbacks you're experiencing are not roadblocks; they are stepping stones leading you to the life you've always dreamed of.

You may feel lost, uncertain, and at times overwhelmed, but trust me, these moments are your greatest teachers. They are guiding you towards a deeper understanding of yourself, your purpose, and the incredible strength that lies within you.

One day, you will look back on this period of your life and realize that it was a transformative journey, a cocoon in which you underwent a profound metamorphosis. You'll emerge from it stronger, wiser, and more in tune with your inner self.

The relationships you're nurturing now, the lessons you're learning, and the self-care you're embracing will all become pillars of the beautiful life that awaits you. You'll find yourself surrounded by a supportive and loving community that cherishes you for exactly who you are.

Song: See you Again - Tyler, The Creator

💌 Pile 2

I am sorry, but things are not going the way you would have hoped they would. However, rejection is just redirection, okay? Although things are looking rough for me right now, which, for you, is in the future, I want you to know that this tough phase will lead you to a place of strength and growth.

Life can be incredibly challenging at times, and I wish I could spare you from some of the hardships I'm currently facing. But remember, every setback, every disappointment, is an opportunity for growth and learning. It's through these tough moments that we discover our resilience and develop the wisdom to make better choices in the future.

I want you to hold onto hope, even when it feels like all hope is lost. Believe in yourself and your ability to overcome adversity. Surround yourself with supportive friends and loved ones who will help you weather the storm.

Stay patient and kind to yourself. It's easy to be critical during challenging times, but self-compassion is crucial. Treat yourself with the same love and understanding that you offer to others.

I am working on something thats a dream of ours right now, and I am seeing signs that it may end up succeeding soon or at least kick off, and I still love designing and art as much as you do right now, although I barely have time for myself right now.

Song: Not in that way - Sam Smith

💌 Pile 3

Okay, so maybeee we should reel it in a little with how much you are overworking yourself because it is having a bad effect on me, aka future you. Yep, I'm here to tell you that all those late nights, skipped meals, and stress-induced hair-pulling moments are not doing us any favors down the line.

I get it, you're hustling, chasing dreams, and making things happen in the here and now, and that's commendable. But trust me, I've been there, done that, and I can assure you that I'd appreciate a little less burnout and a lot more balance in our past.

You see, life isn't just about reaching goals; it's about enjoying the journey too. So, let's make a pact to take breaks, breathe deeply, and relish the simple pleasures. Remember, it's not all about the destination; the detours and pit stops are just as important.

And don't worry, I'm not trying to cramp your style here; I just want us to have the best possible adventures together, full of energy, laughter, and great stories. So, let's find that sweet spot where hard work meets self-care, and where the future "us" can look back and be happy about the past "you" for making wise choices.

Also please stop pulling all nighters its not doing any wonders for our skin, and even an extensive 10 step skincare routine does not do as much as a good nights sleep can.

Song: While we're yound - Jhene Aiko

xoxo

#pick a card reading #pac reading #pick a pile #tarot daily #tarot #intuition #pac #readings #intuitive readings #intuitive #tarot readings #tarot cards #tarotblr #tarot reading #divination #daily tarot #tarot spread #🩵 PAC 🩵

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emaanwritesandwrongs · 1 year

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Amateur Cocktails

2/16/23 I shut the door to my apartment in attempts to keep the sticky Texas heat out. Summer had come early. Again. How many times were we going to pretend that summer had come early, before we accepted it as a new normal? That we needed to start teaching kindergarteners that summer begins in April, and ends in, well, November? But to also tell them: really that doesn’t mean the heat is gone in the latter months, it lingers around making sudden appearances every few weeks. “Did you miss me?” The heat will cry. “Did you forget about me?” God the sun is standing uncomfortably close. The stuffy heat reminds me of strange men’s breath on the back of my neck. Some of them loitered at my work. They’ll forget I’m just another working employee behind the bar. They’ll see right through me as if confronting me for who I really am. Until I am painfully aware of whatever femininity I ultimately blame myself for showing off. I make a mental note to dress duller next time. The men are generally harmless, I know, but when they come close it is suffocating. “Did you miss me?” “Did you forget about me?”

I’m roused from my thoughts as I’m met with a cool burst of air. Peeling off the damp smells of the city from my body, I collapse onto the depressed dent in my couch. Now that I’m indoors and separate from the surrounding world, I can tell how much I reeked of gasoline. Walking through the city does that to you, I guess.

A gentle buzz from my phone reminds me of you. Instead it’s another automated text message reminding me of my last chance at some sort of sale. I punch in the letters “STOP,” and lean back to remember you. I do this a lot. There was a time where we were very close. In all ways except distance. This virtual arrangement was no issue to me. I could sporadically update you about the littlest events throughout my day. And we would spend the hours before sleep recounting our different complaints and celebrations. I’d like to say we avidly agreed on most things. But really what kept things so interesting were our arguments. You were always wrong, and so was I. And somehow both of us being wrong was the strongest trait we had in common. Our lostness tied us together as we felt we were the only two truly questioning and navigating the world around us.

Or so I thought. A little over a year passed by, and you escaped our depressive interpretation of the world and into the physical arms of someone else’s embrace. To picture you leaving your cynical world and feeling love, connectedness and comfort is disturbingly beautiful. It gives me hope, but more so it makes my stomach sink to depths I want to forget. I was right here. But I wasn’t. I was a couple thousand miles away and we both knew that. And that one time I did visit you - I didn’t feel present. And because of that things had changed. I didn’t perform well. I didn’t meet the expectations set on me. I didn’t finish. I couldn’t finish. You touched me and I had to teach my body to feel good. I had to train my brain to release dopamine in response. But with the way I pushed myself to concentrate, while you were trying to make me feel good, I was probably releasing cortisol instead. I’m at a constant war with these slimy chemicals. The fluids that my hypothalamus decides which out of them my pituitary gland should excrete. Are any of those words even real? Biology has opened a new and daunting door of self-awareness. I trick my body by taking a combination of estrogen and progesterone. They stabilize my dramatic mood swings, prevent painful cramps, and make sex “safe.” You know, to stop me from shooting out a child for any moment you touch me. I imagine the two hormones to be sisters. They probably dress in pinks and lavenders and skip down my glands while holding hands. They take turns braiding each others hair. They hold each other while watching scary movies. And wipe away each others tears as they share their pain. I feel their sisterhood mocking me.

I open a private browser and damn myself to the pits of Reddit. For the same reasons every other person privately browsing Reddit is: to ask any variation of the age old question “WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME???” Why don’t I desire you the way I should. Why can’t I find myself to desire anyone else. Even at work the other bartenders enjoy the witty flirting back and forth. But I can’t help but feel it all to be pointless and draining. I guess I don’t have to be sexy in order to survive or anything. I don’t have to engage in sex if I don’t want to. No one is making me do or be anything really. But there’s a part of me that yearns to exercise my sex. I want to want to enjoy these feelings, I confirm to myself. And I want to to be fun, a smaller voice whispered to myself. So I swindle down the rabbit hole of different forum links and come to the self evaluated conclusion that, get this, I lack testosterone.

Somehow those two little girls were working so hard with their fancy female hormones that I ended up feeling less of a woman than I ever have before. Like literally. All the estrogen and progesterone has shrunken my clit. Like a victim to phantom limb syndrome, it feels cold and absent where my clitoris is supposed to be, Doctor. The cure is to man up and grow some balls, he tells me. How has my body reached this stage? Why are my hormones all wrong? How do I train my endocrine system to do things right for once? I imagine my little pituitary gland fumbling different bottles and bitters into a cocktail shaker that he stupidly lets spill everywhere. Who let this guy in charge? I grit my teeth and once again let the heat take over my mind and the cortisol wave over my body.

A strange man’s breath on my neck. I look up it’s you. I yelp and push the body away. Behind you stand two little twin girls who stare through me. They are donned in blue dresses this time. The heat, the sweltering sun. The walk back home along the expressway. The smell of testosterone in my clothes. My body opening up and freeing my glands from their suffering. You look back at me. “Is this okay?” The sisters watch me waiting on my response. They glance to the side as if to urge me: go on, tell him. “DID YOU MISS ME?” I want to ask him. Instead I wait until he is done and distracted, so I can slip a couple bills of testosterone from his wallet into my shaker. I edge out of the scene.

#writes #shame #women’s health #libido #short story #amateur writing #beginner writer #fiction #what does it mean to be a woman

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questforgalas · 1 year

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Mission: Sit Tight and Wait

**remastered July 2023, updated version here**

Summary: While Obi-Wan and Rex are rescued off Kadavo, Cody and the 212th can't do anything but sit and wait

Words: 2.9K

On AO3

Notes: Lol at the title, I had no idea what to put. This one got away from me, but I'm really happy with it. It made me happy cry at the end, so hopefully you enjoy this little journey too. There are so many side scenes from The Clone Wars that I wish we could see on screen, so here's my self indulgent remedy.

Warnings: Fluff, minor angst (uncertainty and flashes of anger), slavery mentioned, mentions of captivity, Cody's perspective, Jesse, Wolffe, and Fives make appearances, brothers comforting each other, banter between brothers, swearing in Mandoa, Cody almost loses his cool on Yoda, Obi-Wan's influence on the 212th, brothers concerned for their brother, mentions of alcohol

Mando'a Key: Osik: Shit Vod: Brother Ori'vod: big brother

______________________________________________________________

The Negotiator was never quiet. No matter the time of day, there was always some kind of ruckus that Cody could hear. Sabacc games, mess hall conversations, troopers doing their rounds, enthusiastic retellings of the latest battles. That last one was always Cody’s favorite as he listened to his brothers gradually one-up each other. Somehow a simple smash-and-grab would involve 12 tanks, 8 droidekas, and 3 platoons of commandos that his brothers each took down single-handedly. Normally the quietest part of the ship was the bridge filled with the quiet beeps and taps of navigation systems and radars. The only time Cody found himself up there was when he was needed for a briefing with General Kenobi or required to attend a meeting. Otherwise, he preferred to spend his time elsewhere in the ship - most often in the makeshift fitness center where he could work off his restless energy or remind his brothers why he was named Commander.

He happened to be up on the bridge finalizing reports when he heard the holotable beep with an incoming message from the Jedi council. Cody hit the receiver and General Yoda’s small blue form flickered in front of him. The warning in his gut told Cody he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear, but he was wrong. It was so much worse. The council just received a message from General Skywalker and Commander Tano from Zygerria, the former slavery empire. Cody was there when General Kenobi was briefed on his joint mission to locate the missing Togruta colonists and saw his general off just 2 rotations ago. While the 212th waited for Kenobi’s return, they remained in the Shili system with the Resolute incase the separatists decided to return to the unoccupied planet while the colonists were missing. It wasn’t surprising to Cody that they hadn’t heard from Kenobi yet, but as Yoda continued relaying his message, Cody felt the very strong urge to plant a permanent tracker on his general and, in this instance, his little brother because while Skywalker and Tano made it off Zygerria of their own will, Kenobi and Rex had been transported to Kadavo, the Zygerrian’s processing center, at least a rotation ago. Cody’s blood wasn’t cold - it was pure ice running through his veins.

He knew he was supposed to respond to the elder Jedi. Just an acknowledgment that he heard the message. Anything, really. Instead, Cody just stared. How was he supposed to respond to his general and little brother being taken captive on a slave planet? This wasn’t exactly a scenario that was covered in the simulations the Kaminoans setup for them. Figuring the blinding rage Cody wanted to respond with wouldn’t be considered appropriate, he dug deep and found it in himself to act something like a commander of the GAR.

“Understood, sir. We can be on our way within the hour and in the Kadavo system at 0500 tomorrow.” The Kadavo system was located in Wild Space and one of the furthest points from the Negotiator’s current position. As efficient as the 212th was, they still wouldn’t be able to get there in less than 12 hours. “That’s 12 hours more that Rex and Obi-Wan are at the hands of that scum,” Cody thought to himself. Them being in that center for even just 12 seconds more made Cody feel sick, but it was the best he could do.

“Negative Commander. Remain you will. Closer the 104th are and aid Skywalker and padawan Tano they will. Remain you must,” Yoda responded.

For the second time during this call, Cody found himself speechless. Obi-Wan Kenobi, their general, and Rex, his little brother, are currently captives, and the 212th are expected to just sit here. Cody blinked. He blinked again. Surely, this was General Yoda’s sick idea of a joke, right? But as Cody stared, the general didn’t correct himself, and Cody had to accept that he and his men were actually expected to sit tight and wait. He was confident that he’d rather face off against 3 hungry rancors than report this to the boys.

“Understood, sir,” Cody nearly spat. His professionalism was hanging on by a thread. “Have the 501st been informed?”

“Aware they are.”

“Understood.” With that, Yoda’s figure flickered out, and the soft taps and beeps of the bridge’s systems bombarded Cody’s ears. Slowly, his gaze shifted out the viewport to the Resolute sailing next to them. It was then that a thought more terrifying than the information he just received hit him. With no Skywalker, Tano, or Rex on board that star ship, who in the Maker was keeping an eye on Fives?

Once Cody was able to collect himself, he got the task of informing the boys out of the way as quickly as he could. When he was finished relaying the information over the ship wide comms, Cody swore he could feel how still every one of his brothers went. If he hadn’t glanced up and around, he could’ve been convinced none of his brothers on the bridge were breathing. He saw in their eyes the same emotional storm that had been swirling in him since he received the orders: anger, fear, helplessness. But his tasks weren’t complete just yet. He was a commander, but he was also a big brother, and there was a ship just next to them going through the same Maker made hell without someone in command to guide them. Jesse was capable, but the lieutenant still looked at Rex with the adoration of a shiny so Cody could only guess what the energy on the Resolute was like. He was glad he made the call as soon as Jesse’s form appeared in front of him – there wasn’t an emotional storm brewing in his eyes. There was just pure, unhinged rage.

“This is osik, Cody, and you know it.”

“Jesse, I see you’ve heard the news,” Cody hoped some light banter would bring Jesse’s rage down to a simmer.

“It was bad enough we were told to stay here, systems away while our general, commander, and captain go undercover on a slaver planet, but this? Did you hear General Skywalker and Commander Tano were captives on Zygerria?” Cody hadn’t heard that, but it seemed like Jesse was more than willing to fill him in.

“Skywalker was forced to be the Queen’s arm candy. And Ahsoka? Sat in a cage hanging over the city for a rotation.” That last sentence he said as if he was spitting venom out of his mouth, which Cody didn’t blame him for. Red flashed before his eyes, and she wasn’t even his commander. If Jesse was referring to Ahsoka by her first name over official channels, Cody knew he was hanging on by a thread.

“And now Rex is in a processing center being forced to do who knows what, and I just. I just don’t know what to do Cody. I know Wolffe and his boys will get them out of there, but sitting here doing nothing? I’m sure it’s no surprise to you that the boys aren’t taking it well.” Jesse mumbled that last part with a side glance. An image of the 501st standing off screen glowering jumped into Cody’s head.

“How many times have you had to stop Fives from jumping into a ship?”

That earned Cody a soft chuckle from the Lieutenant. “I considered locking him in the brig before I even reported the news just to keep him somewhat controlled.” Jesse went quiet, looking down at what Cody assumed was their holotable on the Resolute’s bridge. He let out a deep sigh, and Cody saw his shoulders slump. No, more like sink as if he just took on the weight of Kadavo itself.

“Cody, what if…what if they’re not in…”

“Stop it right there, trooper,” Cody cutoff Jesse’s train of thought knowing exactly where he was going because it was the same one that kept ringing through Cody’s mind. What if they aren’t in time.

“If this were General Plo Koon and the 104th were in our shoes, they’d trust us to get him out of there. We have to do the same. Our brothers would never let us down. Besides, you know that Wolffe has a soft spot for Rex. There’s no way he's not getting him out of there.”

Cody relaxed a little more when he heard Jesse let out another soft chuckle.

“Thanks ori’vod. I can’t imagine the 212th is taking this too well either.”

“We’ve seen General Kenobi get through the impossible. We all believe we’ll see him on the Negotiator soon enough,” Cody responded honestly. Even though he felt the restlessness of his troops, he knew it was out of frustration of sitting and doing nothing and not in lack of belief in their general. Chaos would freeze over before any of them lost faith in their Jedi.

“Alright, well I better go check to make sure Fives hasn’t recruited a bunch of shinies to do something reckless like prank call General Yoda,” Jesse runs a hand down his face, but he doesn’t look as weighed down as he did moments ago. Cody chalks that up for a win.

“I’ll keep this channel open in case you need anything.”

“You’re going to stand by that holotable until you hear from them, aren’t you?”

“And you won’t be doing the same?” Cody quipped back.

A sly smirk appeared on Jesse’s lips, “Rex wouldn’t expect anything less. Osik, I already miss his eye rolls. We need him back soon.”

“He will be. The Wolffepack know how to pull off a rescue better than anyone in the GAR”

“Thanks again, Cody. Let me know if you hear anything”

“Same to you, Jesse.” Cody shut off the call, and then he was faced with what he considered one of his hardest missions to date: sit tight and wait.

That was 5 hours ago. Well, 4 hours, 35 minutes, and 29 seconds, but who was counting? Just as Jesse guessed, Cody hadn’t moved more than a foot from the holotable this whole time. Sometimes he caught himself staring at the machine as if that alone could make this rescue go faster. He noticed that the beeps and taps of the bridge’s systems had reduced over the hours, and he had a feeling it was a subconscious effort by his brothers to stop driving themselves insane by jumping at every beep that came through. At first, the 212th made a good effort to keep themselves busy and not seem like they were being driven mad by lack of information. But Cody noticed the subtle ticks. Over the hours, comm links became increasingly more interesting as his brothers frequently checked to make sure theirs were active and ready to receive. Any beep in the room would cause every head to shoot down and check if it was their comm notifying them of an incoming message.

The bridge, normally quiet and barely populated, had become the most popular place on the ship. At first, his brothers tried to play it off with half-cocked excuses. Cody found the amount of “maintenance reports” that needed to be filed over the last 5 hours amusing. But soon his brothers didn’t bother to hide their restless energy, and it felt like more than half of the 212th were sitting or standing on the bridge now. Some were engaged in hushed conversation, but the majority were channeling their energy into quiet, busy tasks. About an hour ago, someone brought up a couple cans of their sunburst orange paint, and many troopers were adding touchups to their armor. Cody couldn’t help his fond smile at the thought that his brothers found comfort in the task that Obi-Wan often expressed as his favorite bonding activity for his troops. It wasn’t a strange sight to see Obi-Wan sitting in the mess with shinies, offering his steady hand to paint some of the finer details. As Cody looked around, he thought he saw some Jedi symbols being added to helmets and vambraces. Thinking about Obi-Wan’s bashful reaction to the not so subtle tributes had Cody chuckling to himself. “Skywalker’s never going to let him hear the end of it”. In fact, Cody knew that the 501st were going to get an earful from their general if he returned to no tributes and Obi-Wan had a battalion covered in customized armor.

4 hours, 55 minutes, 48 seconds. That’s when the beep came in. Cody had been staring at the table for so long he didn’t process that it was in fact the holotable that was interrupting his thoughts at first. *Beep*. The most alert troopers’ heads immediately shot up. *Beep*. Troopers that had been sitting were now scrambling to stand up. *Beep*. Cody finally registered the incoming message signal. In the split second it took for Cody to hit accept, he noticed it wasn’t coming from the Jedi council. It was coming from CC-3636. It took the longest 2 seconds of Cody’s life for Wolffe to flicker into focus. The first thing Cody noticed was that Wolffe was breathing hard, as if he had just finished running before making the call. The second thing he noticed was the lack of scuffing on Wolffe’s armor. “That’s good, that means it was a relatively clean mission.” The last thing Cody caught was that Wolffe still had his helmet on which told him that he was very much rushing from whatever he was doing previously to make this call.

“We’ve got them.” Three simple words, but they held enough power to push the collective relieved breath the room was holding. “We’ve got them Cody. We just left the atmosphere, and I have to run to the briefing. But I wanted to tell you. Sinker’s calling Jesse as we speak.”

“Th-thank you, Wolffe. Thank you.” There wasn’t much else Cody could say. Wolffe gave him a curt nod and the call cut off. Cody could hear his heart in his ears. One beat. Two beats. Three beats. The room erupted. Command structure was forgotten as a room of troopers celebrated the news that their Jedi and their brother were saved. Cody was lifted up by someone, Jetsetter he thinks, and unceremoniously thrown in a circle in one of the biggest hugs he’s ever received. Sunburst paint was being thrown in the air. Chants of “Wolffepack! Wolffepack!” echoed throughout the room. Cody was shocked his mouth hadn’t split with how wide he was smiling. Just moments later, the holotable started beeping again. The Resolute was calling.

“Sounds like you heard the good news,” Fives openly laughs as the noise of the Negotiator no doubt goes through to their end.

“I can say the same about you all,” Cody jokes as he hears “Break out the spotchka!” in the background.

“Sinker said they’ll be jumping into hyperspace shortly, and we should see them by 1000 tomorrow,” Fives informs him.

“Thanks Fives. Did he say how they are? Wolffe had to run to the briefing.”

There was a small tendril of fear behind Cody’s question. Obi-Wan and Rex were only captives for 36 hours, but who knows what the Zygerrians conjured up for their processing facility. He studied Fives face as he waited for his answer. Thankfully, nothing dark crossed over his features.

“Definitely beaten up. Going to spend the hyperspace trip in the med bay. But physically fine. I’m sure some ghosts will be coming with them, though.”

“We’ll be there to help fight them when they appear,” Cody said instantly. He knew Obi-Wan had his Jedi ways of dealing with the traumas of war, but there was no way he was letting his little brother take his usual stoic approach after this one. He was thankful for Fives’ tendency to ignore Rex’s personal space because he knew the ARC will do the same.

“I can’t believe I’m looking forward to Rex chewing me out,” Fives chuckled to himself.

“Better to have him around to chew you out than not have him around at all,” Cody said.

“Cheers to that vod. I’m going to make sure Jesse doesn’t over do the spotchka, and by over do I mean not share with me. See you on the next one,” Fives gave a casual salute to Cody before cutting off.

“Hey Commander! X-Ray found some Correlian whiskey in the mess. We’re cracking it open!”

“Be right there vod. Tell them to save some for me.”

Cody looked around the bridge. The majority of the 212th had moved out of the room during his call with Fives. He guessed they headed to the mess in search of something worthy of a celebration, and it sounds like they were successful. Sunburst orange was smattered all across the now nearly empty bridge, and Cody smiled to himself. He hoped getting paint off of radar screens wasn’t too much of a nightmare, but that was something for future Cody and some shinies to figure out. Something told him Obi-Wan wouldn’t mind the new décor, but Cody wanted as few headaches as possible to be around when their general returned.

When they returned. Not if. Not maybe. When. Of all the wins the 212th collected, this one was by far Cody’s favorite.

#tay writes #commander cody #obi-wan kenobi #arc trooper fives #lieutenant jesse #arc trooper jesse #Commander wolffe #the wolffe pack #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #zygerria arc #canon compliant #platonic obi-wan and cody #the clone wars #star wars #endearing adorable fluff

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madeofsheezsmemories · 7 months

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One thing I’ve noticed about people in or entering their 30s is they don’t make as many compromises anymore. If someone doesn’t meet them halfway, is not up to standard, is just not where they’re needed to be, they’re just like “ok cool” and they move on from the person. Which is not to say they’re less empathetic or understanding, but more that they have learned that time is their most prized possession and they’re not willing to make massive compromises on it. They are not obsessed w the idea of fixing someone (bc the concept of fixing a person doesn’t really exist). They simply move on to someone who is up to par. I want that. I want to always move w the awareness that time is my most priceless belonging and I can never buy it back. Ever. So I have to use it wisely. Not just when it comes to ppl but w opportunities too! Not wasting your energy on negativity. Always seeing the big picture etc etc. I just want to always move from a place of 'is this expending time that could be best spent elsewhere? Just a note 2 self while I navigate how to spend my time which includes dedicated studying & reading more consistently & moving my body & enjoying nature & telling someone I love them <3 #we will be alright.

#note to myself #writing #books & libraries

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copingintheghetto · 7 months

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Who, Where, Why?

I forget what my last words typed here were. Not gonna look. I just had a thought- why post what I find interesting about bands/artists and their lyrics, their donde estas- on facebook? Nobody in my friend list- mainly relatives because I deleted everyone my ex-sociopath boyfriend told me to- wants to read about these things. I should just blog about music and never write another line about anything on facebook.

While I'm here- there's something related to "living in the ghetto". Well, I came across the word. It seems that someone has tried to insult an intelligent, beautiful, professional, classy woman in Congress. I don't know if Ms. Crockett was born into poverty and clawed/climbed her way out or what. I am grateful that I wasn't born into poverty and have no idea what that experience would be like since I haven't lived it. All I can say is that I empathize with those struggling to rise above, cheer for those that do and feel confused as to why a person from a higher socio-economic background would spend their time casting stones at someone who rose above- someone who's words resonate with me- remind me that my glasses are, indeed, the right prescription as I try to keep my balance while navigating through my own little world, putting out fires big and small. Honestly, I wish I had not looked at this mess written on reddit and, instead, focused on my nauseating to-do list. SIDE NOTE- Mom On the Spectrum (also ADHD- on youtube.com) shared something that might be the best thing I've heard about all year. goblin.tools. Your to-do list- each task is broken down into steps for you. There's even this feature that compiles all of your 'brain dump' into a list of tasks! 'Judge' helps you read the tone of someone's message to you if you're not quite sure what to think about it. And it can help you think of a more tactful way to say something to someone. AND it can estimate how long any given task will take you to complete! Back to the beginning. Well, I think that person casting stones is doing so out of insecurity and not having any sense of self. SIDE NOTE- I have been struggling with talking out loud at home, alone, for a year and a half now. It's a compulsion, meaning I can't stop it even though I want to. I waste hours every day giving lectures, interviews, reenacting conversations- what I wanted to say, how I wanted to sound, all the points I wanted to make. Putting away some groceries takes 2 hours. I don't think it is OCD like my psych nurse practitioner said. I agree with the OCD personality disorder diagnosis I received 10 years ago though. I was going through a disorganized psych folder of mine the other day and came across a piece of paper with, "Dr. Clark" written at the top. At the very bottom is this: "Insecurity: loneliness and insecurity sometimes cause people to talk incessantly." But it doesn't say that it's all done out loud while alone like my situation. Regardless, I am definitely insecure. I was learning about all the different kinds of insecurity one can have the other day and it seemed that I had three types. All of it stemming from childhood trauma and abuse and all. So one shouldn't be ashamed about it. Should I waste time trying to put myself in the shoes of the stone thrower? No. I'm exhausted. Anyway, I digested some social media content along with all of the song lyrics I studied for the past week. The word 'ghetto' is used here. The post I read started with,

"Republicans don’t use racial slurs and stereotypes challenge GOP" from Reddit.

"With the disgusting remarks the left makes about Lauren [sic] Boobert, why shouldn't we be a little rough on ghetto Jasmine Crockett? Rep Crockett made an ass of herself during the #impeachmentinquiry hearing today...the woman has no class. I like Byron Donalds...he is a free-thinking black man with a brain. ""Cock-it"" is just a washed-up welfare queen who somehow made it to Congress." So, when you dislike someone for speaking truth backed up by facts, you lash out like a spoiled insecure child-bully because it makes you feel uncomfortable? You type out your lazy commentary- take jabs at someone superior in intellect and logic (just a hunch), knowing the majority of ignorant constituents wrapped around your cronies' fingers won't bother to look up the facts. This person and his/her cronies project a lot. (I think this is part of what's going on here. Not sure. I'm tired.) Repeatedly. Like, when will they stop?! Never. No shame because it would hurt their game. And they are in it to win it-no going back now! Having to admit defeat? No thanks. Let's just run with the ball and see how far we can go while ignoring the referees! When someone calls you something that they are, it is called psychological projection or projection bias. This is a psychological defense mechanism where a person subconsciously denies his or her own attributes, thoughts, and emotions, which are then ascribed to the outside world, usually to other people . (I'm not sure this is applicable here- I thought I was going somewhere with this.) Well, I think people like the one who spouted the hate about Ms. Crockett here are the ones making asses out of themselves. My mom does this. She- probably a narcissist- calls me one. SIDE NOTE: You can benefit from CBT if people do this to you- project- and you start to question yourself- start gaslighting yourself. It's crazy how that can start to happen. Second guessing yourself. Gaslighting- a subtle form of emotional manipulation that often results in the recipient doubting their perception of reality and their sanity. I guess I was saying that Ms. Crockett's words help protect me from gaslighting myself whenever I hear members of Congress squabbling about this and that. The stone thrower wants people to doubt themselves and their ability to think and reason. Doubt their intuition. Their gut feeling. This reminds me of my dad. He doesn't call to ask how I'm doing. He seems like a bully to me-one who is flat out bored sometimes. He calls to push my buttons because he's insecure. I never bring up politics but he usually, gleefully, sneaks something into a phone call for no reason. I don't share my opinion much because his loud, bellowing voice triggers my fight or flight response. If I didn't have these anxiety disorders and whatnot, he'd never speak to me about politics. Why do bullies pick fights with the meek? Insecurity. (again) I think most people know this in this day and age. But I still think that it is really sick and worth repeating that it is really sick. SIDE NOTE: I hope we can all express our own opinions without bighting each others' heads off one day. Wouldn't it be nice? (Beach Boys song popped into my head. I think it played at the end of a documentary I saw long ago.)

#psychology #mental health #politics #ramblings #40s

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wardenparker · 2 years

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Killer Writing - chapter 2

Dave York x plus size female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After divorcing Carol so she could marry her soulmate, Dave York threw himself into his work. There is no way he could have predicted that the unexpected collateral damage on an op would turn out to be his soulmate. Now all he can do is keep you safe, and try his best to get you to not hate him as the two of you try to navigate a blooming relationship that started out with threats and a mean right hook.

Rating: Mature Word Count: 6.9k Warnings: *Blanket content warning for self-esteem, self-image, and weight issues.* Threats of violence, canon typical danger, teasing Dave deserves to wear a warning label. Summary: Personal truths are revealed as you and Dave come to terms with the fact that you’ll be spending quite a bit of time in close quarters for the foreseeable future. Notes: We are off to the races with this one, kids! The team may be giving Dave shit, but his concerns seem to be genuine. I feel the beginnings of some chemistry stirring... 🥽🥼🧪

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7

You shouldn’t have been listening. You know that. But if he was going to plan something horrible to do with you, you’d rather know it’s coming. But it sounded like the opposite. Like he actually intended to protect you and let you go. No honor amongst thieves, but apparently there was amongst killers. But being with him?

You chew on your lip. The idea caused…mixed signals in your body. Physically? Hell yes. You couldn’t have asked for someone more your type unless it was Oberyn Martell himself. But…how could you let him touch you after what you know he’s done? What he does? You pinch your eyes shut. No, you could not rescue him from his life of amoral judgements. Don’t be dumb. He is who he is. This is not a romance novel.

“About that…” Dave tenses up at the hesitancy in Kovac’s voice. “The target apparently intended to make her the fall guy.” His knuckles turn white around the phone, listening to the news that an account in the Canary Isles has been opened under your name and money deposited into it. Not much, just enough for them to believe that you stole the formula. “Son of a bitch.” He hisses. “Find out if anyone else knows about that account, besides the buyer.”

“It might take some time to clear up.” Comes the reply. “More than a few days.”

Dave sighs. “Okay.” Running his hand through his hair, he thinks about his options. “I’ll need to get back to her apartment. Let her pack up some things.” Kovac snorts and makes porno sounds, making Dave huff. “No, as much as I wouldn’t mind spending the entire time naked in bed, I very seriously doubt she would want that.”

“Enjoy the vacation.” Kovac tells him, obviously not believing a word of what he’s saying.

“Fuck off. Find out if anyone else is a threat to my soulmate. You know what to do.” Dave says before he disconnects the call.

You slide away from the door as quietly as humanly possible, back to the spot on the couch where you had been sitting, your favourite book in your lap like you had never moved.

…As much as I wouldn’t mind spending the entire time naked in bed… His voice echoes in your head making you shiver involuntarily. It’s just the soulmate connection you tell yourself, training your eyes back on your book.

Dave thinks about going back out into the living room, just to be around you. To be able to look at you and memorize your features, but he decides against it. You would be more comfortable away from him, you’ve made that clear. Sighing, he boots up his computer to answer some emails and mark the job as complete.

The morning passes in silence. Dave never re-emerges from wherever he went for that phone call and you never move on the couch, even when the adrenaline wears off and you realize you’re exhausted from nearly being murdered. Lying down on this man’s couch for a nap was not an option. You’re fairly certain you won’t sleep at all while you’re here. Not the way things look right now.

You don’t hear movement at all until sometime around midday, when a chair rattling in the other room pulls you away from your book.

Dave groans, standing and stretching before he goes back into his bedroom to change into appropriate clothes to go out in. Dressed in simple jeans and a Henley, he comes back out into the living room.

“You could be here for a while, so we are going to go to your place to get some clothes. Stuff you want.” He tells you conversationally. “Pick up some more groceries. If I give you my phone to pick out food you like, will you call the cops?”

“You left me alone all morning,” you point out, shaking your head that no, you won’t call the cops. “If I was going to run, I would have by now.” It’s odd, when you realize you mean it. That you had hours upon hours when you could have made a mad dash and you hadn’t. Maybe it was the phone call. Maybe it was the way he was so fierce to the man on the other end about protecting and not forcing you. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but still: You hadn’t run.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t.” Dave sighs, and sits down on the edge of the sofa. “We don’t know exactly who all is going to be looking for you.” He doesn’t want to tell you, but you need to know. “Lisa– she set you up as the fall guy for selling the prototype. You would have been blamed when everything came to light.”

For more than a few seconds you just sit there, staring at him. He can’t be serious. Lisa wouldn’t do that. She had been grooming you to be her second in command for the last few months. She had been sharing extra details of the project with you. She had— you groan, your face falling. She had been setting you up.

The sympathy on his face speaks volumes, when you manage to force yourself to glance up at him, and you’re not sure if things would be easier if he had just killed you or if you were thankful he was protecting you. Either way, this is where you were staying. Apparently for the foreseeable future.

“I’m going to lose my job,” you mumble finally, staring through the man in front of you into nothing. “I’ll be unemployable…that’s it…I’m done…”

“We are taking care of it.” Dave reaches out and puts his hand on your knee, thankful you don’t jerk away from him. “Anyone after you will be silenced and we took the evidence from the lab when we made it look like a robbery.”

You don’t like the sound of silenced, but you swallow your concern and nod. His hand is large, covering your entire knee, and you stare at it blankly for a second but don’t move. He’s still in charge, even if he’s trying to be comforting. “So…you’re stuck with me for a while.” What the hell kind of phrasing is that? “How are we going to go to my place if I can’t be seen?” Yes, focus on logistics. That’s good.

“We can either make a list and have the team pack for you.” He pauses, sure that you don’t want the other men to go through your panty drawer any more than you would want him to. Although his cock twitches at the idea of finding out what kind of panties you wear. “Or you lay down in the back of the seat on the drive over and we will be cautious.”

You exhale deeply, a forced and anxious sigh. “Please don’t make me get in the trunk again,” you ask, letting your arms rest on your thighs an inch or two from his hand which is still on your knee. “I can lie down or hide or whatever, just…that was…” Terrifying. It was terrifying. “I’ll do what you tell me to. I would just rather never do that again.”

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes quietly, brushing his thumb over your knee cap. “We needed to get away in a certain timeframe and couldn’t waste time arguing.” He hates how small your voice gets when talking about that. Doesn’t like the idea of you being so scared that you shut down. “I won’t make you do that again.”

Nodding vaguely, you swallow thickly before clearing your throat, trying to get your voice back. His hand is burning through you, making the rest of you feel hot and making you shiver at the same time. It’s not scary, which is confusing as hell. His touch is…calming. And exciting. And nerve wracking. And it’s not making this any easier.

“I don’t wear hats,” you offer, remembering he was wearing one earlier. You’ll do what you’re told, including hiding. “A hat, a big scarf, and one of your jackets. I won’t look like me even getting out of the car…”

Dave nods. “We can do that.” He murmurs before he stands, a slight creak to his knees and he offers you his hand. You stare up at him as if he’s grown a second head and he’s about to pull his hand back - feeling self conscious - when you reach out and take it, letting him help you up.

Skin to skin for the first time since fighting him earlier, you almost hate yourself for the thrilling way your skin tingles. It’s just the soulmate connection, you remind yourself. And it’s just you being ridiculous. Just the side effects of never having touched a man in any sort of intimacy. Even weird circumstances would give you weird reactions.

“Do you trust me to use your phone?” You ask softly, remembering he you wanted to pick out food, but assuming he’ll be ordering it so you don’t have to risk being in public. Either that or have one of his team shop for him.

He doesn’t remove his hand, keeping hold of yours and loving how soft it is. “I trust you.” He says seriously, staring into your eyes. “Otherwise you would have been brought to a safe house, instead of my apartment.”

“O-okay…” You can’t seem to keep eye contact with him, looking down at your own hand in his but somehow you don’t take it back. When was the last time you even held hands with someone? It seems impossibly intimate for such a simple gesture. He trusts you. He’s trying to protect you. He’ll let you go again when it’s safe. Your mind races, grasping at the first thought you can. “I can cook sometimes,” you blurt out, only realizing after you say it how stupid it sounds. “I mean…if I’m going to be taking up space and eating your food…I can at least help?”

For the first time since you’ve been in his apartment - his life - Dave smiles. A genuine smile, curving his lips and making his eyes light up at the idea of someone preparing a meal for him. “If you want.” He nods. “My kitchen is yours.”

“Okay,” you say again, nodding this time and glancing up at him to find him beaming down at you. Holy shit… Your mouth runs dry. He’s gorgeous when he smiles…

He tugs you towards the door and grabs one of his beanies and a jacket. “Here.” He hands it to you, reluctantly letting go of your hand. Remembering that this is your idea, you tug the hat on and slip into the jacket, which is gratefully baggy. You flip the collar up and shove your hands in the pockets, ready to follow him. To do what you’re told. And maybe stay safe. You have no idea at this point.

The elevator ride down is quiet. Dave frowns as the doors open to the parking garage, looking around before he lets you off, he walks over to a newer sedan with a dark tint and opens the door. “Backseat please.” He asks, opening the back door.

You lie down in back, remembering all his instructions, and tuck your head into your elbow to hide your fear the best you can. None of this seemed real to you until right now - the danger seems unreal to the point of exaggeration, but nothing about how he is going about this is an exaggeration.

“Do you have any animals?” Dave asks suddenly, thinking about having to leave an animal in your apartment. “We can crate them up and bring them by to my house.”

“No,” you shake your head even though he can’t see you as he turns over the engine and pulls out of his parking space. “I can’t even keep plants alive.”

“Okay. I want you to pack your clothes. At least two weeks worth.” He tells you. “Laptop, whatever you want to keep you occupied.” Since he had told you the danger you are in he doubted you would go to the police and say he had kidnapped you.

Your eyes widen at the idea of two weeks and you’re glad he can’t see you as he drives. “Okay.” It seems to be the thing you say to him the most, loud enough for him to hear you up front. He lives clear across the city from you so the drive will take a while, and you start to make a mental list of what to grab. Figuring he won’t want to stay at your place longer than necessary, you’re glad you did laundry last night so you have all your favorite things clean.

******

Dave keeps checking the mirrors, a habit that is well served. Constantly rotating between the mirrors and checking to see if anyone is trailing you, he makes his way across town and pulls up next to your building, as close as he can get without parking in the handicap parking and calling attention to himself. “We are here. I have your keys. Keep your head down and just keep moving.” He cautions you.

By some miracle the lobby is mostly empty and you easily avoid catching anyone’s attention, heading into the elevator unnoticed and taking the short ride to your floor. Your door is only two over from the elevator and you follow Dave inside with a sigh of relief. Getting inside quickly seemed to please him, and that is reassuring somehow. “I’ll be fast,” you tell him, moving past to scoop your laptop and power cord up from your reading chair where you left them out last night.

Dave looks around the apartment, getting an insight into your personality. You are different from him, and he smirks when he spies seven coffee cups scattered on surfaces around the apartment. He huffs in amusement at how different his soulmate is from him as he starts to gather them up.

Standing in the middle of your bedroom, you shake off the intense need to just crawl into your bed and hide. Instead you pull out the travel bag you use when you go to see your dad every few months and pull open your closet door. Two weeks worth of clothes will add up quickly and you do your best to tuck everything in neatly for no other reason than your sanity.

Shoving your slippers in the bag’s side pocket, you move over to your bureau. Underwear. Bras and panties. Why the fuck were you staring at your underwear drawer like it matters what you pack? It doesn’t. It absolutely doesn’t matter. And you hate yourself for reaching for the black panties and matching bra that you’d bought for yourself as a treat. They would sit at the bottom of your bag until laundry day, you tell yourself. When you are doing laundry, you would wear this set. No other time.

Coming back into the living room, you’re stunned to see Dave at your sink with a stack of discarded mugs beside him in the dish strainer as he rinses off one more. “Are you…” you can’t help but smile. It’s almost endearing in a weird way. “Are You tidying up?”

“You can’t have these sitting out.” He rationalizes. “You will have bugs.”

“Right.” The weird little moment evaporates and you move to pull your earbuds and a few other tidbits off your desk to shove into your laptop bag. “I’ll be ready to go in a minute.” The only thing left is toiletries, and that is easy. It’s not like you would be wearing elaborate makeup while you were in hiding.

He gets the feeling you are annoyed at his practicality but he just doesn’t want you to have a mess to clean up. His first op overseas after the split from Carol, he had left a trash bag in the can. It had taken months to get rid of the ants.

“One more thing,” you tell him and disappear into the bathroom. All the things you need are in plain sight and you have your toiletries bag in hand in under two minutes. Out in the main room, you catch Dave bagging up your trash and shake your head a little. Compulsively tidy. Called it.

“I think I’m ready.” You shove the toiletries into your big bag and look around. Goodbye, apartment. Well, at least all the bills are paid by automatic draft.

“Okay.” Dave opens the door and looks out before he holds the door open wider for you to exit. “Here are the keys.” He tells you, handing them to you and trusting you not to run back into the apartment and barricade yourself inside. “I would do it, but I need to keep a hand free.” He doesn’t mention why, the ‘for pulling my gun out’ is implied.

In minutes, Dave is loading your things into the trunk of his car and you’re climbing into the back again, bracing yourself for the half hour ride back to his apartment. Somewhere between your apartment door and now, the thought really hits you. He’s really helping you. In a very backward way. If you were arrested for intending to sell the prototype, that was treason. It was only your word against all the faked evidence that apparently existed. Your options are two weeks in Dave’s apartment or 15-20 in a maximum security prison, and Bedford Hills SuperMax isn’t exactly on your list of must-see locations before you die.

The choice is easy.

Dave feels better once he is on the road. Reaching back and handing you his phone. “Go ahead and put the order in for the groceries. Just have them delivered to the apartment.” He decides that it would be better to get you back to the apartment. “Order whatever you want, don’t skimp.”

Studiously ignoring the warm tingle when Dave’s fingers brush yours, you tap through his grocery app, mindlessly adding a few ingredients for recipes you know you can make well, a good box of tea, and a box of the cereal you eat for breakfast every morning. Not much, but enough to get through without being a nuisance.

It would be so easy. With his phone in your hand, all you would have to do is dial.

But he’s your soulmate. And you’ll go to jail. And your fingers tap through the app easily, choosing payment and delivery before clearing your throat. “Done,” you murmur quietly. This is your own fate sealed now. You’ve chosen to stay with him. And now you have to see it through.

Idiot.

******

Back at his apartment, Dave carries your bag for you. More at ease in his own building, he looks over at where you are nervously chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m going to give you my bedroom.” He tells you, looking back up at the climbing numbers as the elevator car rises up. “I’ll take the couch. You’ll be more comfortable and have privacy.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You reply automatically. It’s going to be weeks and kicking him out of his own bed isn’t exactly keeping your presence to a minimum. “The couch is big. I’ll be okay.” You’ve had worse, certainly, and you can’t see the next few weeks going well anyway. “I don’t want to disrupt your routine anymore than I already am…which is already way more than you need to do for me…”

“Sweetheart,” he looks at you as the doors open. “Take the damn bed. You can sleep in it by yourself, or you can sleep in it with me. Your choice.” He doesn’t give you a chance to answer, just steps off the car and starts striding down the hall.

Blunt, You remind yourself. Dave York is blunt. You hurry to follow him down the hall once you shake yourself out of being surprised, slipping into his front door that he holds out for you. “Sorry,” you mumble sheepishly, hating that you weren’t exactly on his heels like you think he wants you to be. You’re supposed to stay close to him, not stand dazed in the elevator.

“Don’t be sorry.” He murmurs, wondering why you feel the need to constantly apologize. “Consider this your home for now.” He closes the door and flashes you a sardonic grin. “Sorry it’s too uncluttered for you. I’m sure you will change that.”

“Creative minds are messy,” you defend, moving past him to take your bag out of his hand. You may not have a place to unpack, but there are a few little things you can put away.

“Creative minds, huh?” He takes the bag back from you and walks down the hall to the bedroom. “I’ll clean out a couple of drawers for you. There’s room in the closet.” He turns to the chest of drawers and starts opening them to shift clothes around. “What do you create?”

“Um…” You had to go and open your big mouth. You might as well tell him. You’re going to be in his living room with your notebook and research, so he’ll find out eventually. “I write stories.”

“Really?” He’s curious about that but he doesn’t want to make you shut down. “That’s interesting. I love reading but I don’t think I could do something like that.”

“They’re not impressive or anything,” you shrug, pulling out some clothes from your bag to tuck into the drawer he has emptied for you. “It’s just…I don’t know…an escape. Something different from the Same Old Everyday.” It’s a mystery to you, why he’s so easy to talk to so quickly after this morning. You should still be terrified of him. But the more time you spend around him, the more human he is. The more like an everyday person. Just…kind of intense. And a little sad.

“That’s a good thing.” He transfers his clothes down to the bottom two drawers and leaves you the top two for your clothes. “It’s good to have an escape. I like movies.” He admits. “I have a huge collection on a hard drive.”

“What do you watch?” Later, when he’s not standing right next to you, you’ll transfer your intimates to one of the drawers and hide them under your shirts, pretending you have a little bit of privacy.

“Anything. But I really like sci-fi, or fantasy. Also historical dramas.” Dave rubs the back of his neck and looks around. He shouldn’t be this happy about you filling up two drawers in his dresser, but he is.

He’s been lonely since he and Carol split up. He can admit that. It was one of the reasons that he pursued her. He knew she wasn’t his soulmate, but he had been lonely. It was right after his second tour overseas and he needed to feel something. He had loved her. Even if he knew it wasn’t that forever kind of love. He had fooled himself into believing that having a soulmate didn’t matter. He changed people’s destinies for a living.

But you are his soulmate. Even if you wanted nothing to do with him. He would still keep you safe with everything he had. He would make sure you were safe and then he would let you go.

“I’ll - I’ll let you settle in.” He murmurs awkwardly.

“Have you ever seen Timeline?” You’re developing a habit of blurting things out around him and feeling like an idiot directly afterwards, including right now. Your favorite guilty pleasure movie isn’t exactly fantastic cinema, but it’s amazingly fun and always a guarantee to cheer you up. You find yourself remembering his smile from earlier, wondering if it was something that could happen again. “It’s time travel…so sci-fi and period piece…really silly. The kind of movie that’s better when you can make fun of it with a friend…” A friend. You huff at yourself silently. You’re not his friend. You’re the weird girl he’s stuck with.

Dave stops and turns back around to grin at you. “Absolutely. Let me guess…Gerard Butler, or Paul Walker?” He teases, eyes glinting in mischief.

You flush guiltily, hating being caught in something shallow like drooling over an actor, even though everybody does it. "Gerard Butler," you shrug. "But it's as much the character as it is the actor. Marek is fascinating." And has the best love story in the movie, but you leave that bit out.

He smirks. “It’s the accent, isn’t it?” He asks, slipping into a Scottish brogue that is nearly believable. He doesn’t blame you for liking some actor. The guy’s handsome. He just likes teasing you.

The embarrassment reaches your ears, burning the tips as you shove your hands in your pockets. "Doesn't hurt..." you mumble honestly.

He chuckles. “Maybe we can watch it tonight with dinner.” He offers, titling his head slightly. “I know you are disappointed I’m who the universe stuck you with, but I’m not all bad.” He pauses for a second before he turns back around and walks out the door to leave you to unpack.

You're left standing in the middle of his room, wondering what the hell is going on as you finish putting away the last of your clothes in private. Your honest lack of experience with flirting just leaves you wondering if he's being nice or doing it on purpose. You have the absolute most fucked-up meet cute in the universe, but somehow...he's nice. And that niceness is completely separate from the way that Henley he's wearing has to stretch to its limits to contain his damn shoulders.

Shoving your underwear under a layer of shirts, you bring your toiletries to the bathroom and shove them in an empty bit of cabinet so he won't have to stare at your mess. Nothing about this situation makes sense. Nothing at all. But something as simple as a movie with dinner sounds awfully comforting.

“Stop trying to connect with her, dumbass.” Dave hisses to himself when he’s back in the living room. Pulling out his phone to check on the delivery order, he sees that it’s still being shopped.

After an op are the worst times. Craving a human connection after exploiting his ability to remove himself emotionally from the situation. Now apparently it was bad enough that he is trying to flirt with a woman who wants nothing to do with him

"Dave?" You stick your head out into the living room to find him staring out the window aimlessly. It's the first time you've ever actually said his name out loud and it feels heavy on your tongue. "What...um...what do you normally do? During the day?" Does he have an office to go to? What are you expected to do while he's gone? Does he work from home? Is his routine thrown off just as much as yours? You have no idea.

His brow furrows. “I am officially DIA. I have an office, but I can work remotely.” He answers you honestly. He had just anticipated working from home until this was resolved, his team able to take care of most things for him.

"So no shutting me in the bedroom while you're at the office?" It was meant as a joke but it comes out awkwardly. Suggestive. And suddenly you're afraid that you're overstepping all over again, but trying not to show it.

He snorts. “No, I’ll just tie you to the bed.” It comes out before he can stop himself. Not that he had been thinking about how you would look, spread out on his bed and squirming underneath him while you cried his name in pleasure. Nope. Not at all.

Your eyes widen and you know he's seen it because you can't look away fast enough. You manage to not squeak or make any embarrassing noise of surprise, but you know for sure that your face is burning. What do you even say to that? "Gotta leave one hand free so I can hold a book," you clear your throat, giving yourself away. "Or else you're going to have to read to me." Shut the hell up! What is wrong with you?

That makes him laugh. Not a chuckle, but a full belly laugh. “Believe me sweetheart, if you are tied to my bed, you will be too busy to read.” Dave tells you with a wolffish grin. You might not mean a word of what you are saying, but watching your face express your every thought is fun.

It's the second time he's called you that - sweetheart - and somehow it actually seems endearing instead of condescending. Completely separate from the fact that you feel positively slick between your thighs at the mental image, you can feel your goddamn heart racing. There's no graceful way out of this teasing for you, and he's looking at you like you're his next goddamn meal and you just...combust. You're too off kilter. Too out of your element. And honestly too physically attracted to him to be able to deal with this well.

"I'm a virgin." You blurt out, completely mortified immediately afterward and flee into the bathroom like an idiot. What the FUCK was that?! Maybe you'd be better off in prison than here after all…

That surprises him. A lot. You are gorgeous and he had assumed that you– “Okay.” Dave walks to the door and taps on it, trying not to imagine how fucking tight you would be or watching the riot of expression ride over your face while you cum. “That’s– that’s okay.” He shrugs even though you can’t see it, unsure of what to say. “I’m not. Sorry. But you don’t need to be embarrassed.”

"Don't be stupid," you groan, loud enough for him to hear through the door. You need a second or two before you can face him. "There's no reason you would be." You exhale slowly, trying to collect yourself, before you crack the door open enough to just see him. "I just...I think you're flirting with me? And I don't really..." God what a fucking idiot you must seem like. 12 hours ago he was abducting you from your office and now THIS? "I'm not good at this. I haven't done it. I..." Your voice drops and so do your eyes. "I decided a long time ago that I wasn't going to bother with anyone who wasn't my soulmate."

A lot of people save themselves. It isn't unusual. You had decided it on your own, never expecting your person to have made the same decision but satisfied that you were doing what made you comfortable and happy. Now, though? Facing the reality of it? You felt like an idiot schoolgirl who had just told their teacher they hadn't studied for an exam.

“Oh.” Dave softens at your words, reaching out before he pauses, not stroking your cheek like he had intended. Carol had always liked when he was physically affectionate but maybe you weren’t that way. “I–I’m honored.” He tells you seriously. “I know you wish you hadn’t now. Considering….”

"I don't even know." You hate how small your voice is, but there's nothing you can do about it. You're embarrassed. Even if he says you don't need to be, you are. This whole thing is fucked. "I don't...expect anything," you clarify, letting the door open a little more. "Like I don't think everything is going to magically be a fairy tale or something. But..." With a huff and a shrug, you manage to actually look up at him. A soft and sympathetic expression drawn on his handsome face. "But I think you're more than your job. And if we're going to be sharing space for a while, I think it would make things a lot less awkward if we got to know each other a little?"

“That’s a good idea.” He wants to kiss you, badly. Wants to see if your lips are as soft as they look. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” He means it too. He would tell you everything he possibly could, barring the top secret information.

You pinch your eyes shut for a minute before you push the door open all the way. He doesn't move, and for a second you don't either - an odd stand-off in the doorway of his bathroom. Of all the goddamn stupid impulses in the world, just like all the stupid shit you've blurted out to him today, your mind and body seem to have more control over your actions than your will, and you lean forward to hug him before you can stop yourself. Break the barrier now and make it less awkward, you tell yourself, searching for some logic in the impulse.

Your arms come around him and Dave groans. The sound rumbling in his chest and his own arms immediately encircle you. Feeling the press of your body against his is a delicious kind of torture, and his cock twitches insistently. Already hard from your confession, it presses against the zipper of his jeans and reminds him how attractive he finds you. “It’s okay.”

"I'm not upset," you realize at the same time the words are coming out of your mouth. For a split second you don't register what the feeling is, until you think about it for a second and practically jump back with the surprise of realizing he's hard for some reason. How did that even happen? "I...I just...I don't know. It felt like the right thing to do? Break the awkward conversation barrier and break the awkward touch barrier..."

Dave smirks, liking the way that you think. “So by your logic, we should break the awkward kiss barrier too.” He murmurs, eyes darkening slightly at the idea.

The flash of panic on your face is probably incredibly obvious. Being in your early 30s and never having done anything has made it all seem incredibly daunting as well as incredibly enticing. You know he knows what he's doing. You can tell. It's something in the way he carries himself and the ease that he teases you. But standing awkwardly in the doorway of his bathroom is hardly anywhere near the thousands of versions of your first kiss that you'd imagined. Even if your heart is pounding in your ears thinking about it. "Bathroom isn't exactly...romantic," your whole body burns in pure embarrassment.

Disappointment is something that he’s used to, but this time it’s nearly painful. His eyes shutter, losing their teasing glow, and he gives you a small nod. “I understand.” Of course you wouldn’t want him to kiss you. He takes a step back and is about to say something else when there is a knock on the door.

His entire demeanor changes. Back straight and eyes suddenly intense and focused, his jaw tight. “Stay here.” He warns you, reaching for the gun that he had set on the dresser before he disappears out of the room towards the front door.

You slump against the doorframe, facing dropping into one hand. Is it your imagination, or was he disappointed? The whole energy around the two of you had changed in the blink of an eye. Did he actually want to kiss you? Had you just screwed up your only chance at an actual, real first kiss?

You groan quietly, feeling like an idiot, and listen to the exchange happening in the other room: the girl delivering your grocery order is giggling and obviously flirting with him - something you wouldn’t even feel comfortable with yet, but he probably thrives on. The rustle of bags and giggling goes on for a few minutes, and you find yourself leaving the bathroom to walk the two steps into his bedroom to sit down on the edge of his bed. Awkward kiss barrier You shake your head at yourself and groan again. Idiot.

He decides to give you your space. Get it together, York he tells himself. He shakes his head as he starts to put away the groceries.

It was amazing that there was a girl that had flirted with him while she was bringing the bags inside and he had little interest beyond being polite. And the woman that wanted nothing to do with him had him tied up in knots. It was the soulmate bond. It had to be. Yes, he was attracted to you. That was very obvious, but he normally never had a problem being told no. It wasn’t like he had never been turned down before. He normally just smiled and backed off, but with you? He couldn’t seem to let it go. Although it seemed like he needed to.

Ten minutes after the door shuts, you push yourself off of his bed and dig into your travel bag for your slippers - padding out into the kitchen much more comfortably. His face is drawn as he folds up the empty paper bags and the entire light is gone from his demeanor. And it’s your fault.

“It wasn’t a ‘no’,” your voice is a little on the quiet side so you don’t startle him - hands spines into your jeans pockets once more. “Just…not yet?” Not when I’m eight inches away from a toilet, preferably.

He keeps his eyes on his task, folding the paper neatly to recycle. “I shouldn’t have pushed.” He tells you quietly, his tone low. He’s not angry at you, just more upset that your rejection matters so much. “You don’t need to feel pressured into anything. It won’t happen again.”

There’s a way that he curls in on himself that’s not that different from when you do it yourself. His version is sad and almost self berating, while yours is intense embarrassment and shame. You’re rooted to the spot, still shocked at how your opinion of this man has changed so drastically in 12 hours. But there it is. It has changed. Because of your soulmate connection, probably.

“It’s my own stupid thing,” you explain quietly. “You wait thirty plus years for your first kiss, you tend to get anxious about it when the opportunity shows up.”

Finally looking at you, Dave searches your eyes and finds nothing dishonest about your answer. He sees embarrassment, shyness and a touch of shame. He hadn’t realized you hadn’t even kissed anyone before, assuming you had at least done that. He nods seriously. “If you want me to kiss you, just tell me.” He murmurs. “I’ll happily do it, but only if you want.” He pauses, rocking his jaw slightly. “Never apologize for not wanting intimacy. You owe me nothing, not even wearing matching marks.”

Thankfully you manage to not just spit out words this time. You chew on your lip, watching him for any sign of judgment, but there’s none. He just looks serious - which you’re noticing is his default. “I do.” You hear yourself saying, more surprised that you’re saying it than that you mean it. “Want you to, I mean.” He’s your soulmate. You’ve waited your entire life to find him. And even though it was fucked up, it’s still your story. “I’ve just imagined it a million different ways and none of them had me standing next to a toilet…” You huff at yourself. “Too many old movies. Real life doesn’t have a soundtrack and mood lighting.”

He snorts lightly. “I can understand that.” He smirks slightly at the idea of setting the mood. “You want romance.” He guesses, sighing quietly. “I don’t- it’s not my programmed nature. Flowers, candles, that kind of thing. I normally act.” He fidgets slightly. “Carol– my ex, I showed I cared by filing for divorce and giving her the house.”

“I don’t expect anything from you,” you clarify, though flowers and candles sounds pretty fucking perfect. “I just want you to know that it’s not a ‘no’.” You shrug, knowing that you’re not what he expected, either. You’re very different people, but the universe seems to think that’s a good thing. “I’m just working through my own stupid shit and that’s on me.” There’s the distinct sting of disappointment, knowing that he’s not the sweep-you-off-your-feet type, but you had sort of guessed he wanted from early on.

“How about we just enjoy tonight?” He offers, thinking about how to make you feel special. He didn’t normally do romance, that didn’t mean he couldn’t. “Have dinner, watch Timeline. Nothing expected. Just the assassin and the girl he kidnapped to save her life?” He flashes you a grin at the description of you and him.

That shouldn’t be charming. That should be horrifying. Terrifying. Fill you with dread. Instead you’re caught up in the dimple that presses into his cheek and your cheeks burn deeply. “Sure,” You nod. “I threw a frozen pizza and some salad stuff into the grocery order…that sounds like dinner and a movie?” Dinner and a movie was something people did on a date and you curse yourself for the phrasing immediately after him saying tonight was supposed to be relaxed.

Dave nods quickly. “That sounds good. If you want- I do have a bottle of wine in one of the cabinets.” He flushes slightly. “Housewarming gift from one of the downstairs neighbors when I moved in. If you drink wine, I rarely do. Makes me sleepy.”

You shrug, taking a few steps toward the kitchen. Toward him. “I’m more of a scotch on the rocks girl,” you admit. “Not very ladylike, I know.”

He grins again. “So the wine stays in the cabinet. There’s scotch and whiskey beside it. You are welcome to it.”

“How about with dinner?” You like that grin. You could get used to that grin.

“That will work.” He feels better. The last thing he wanted was for you to be uncomfortable here for the next week or two.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110

KW: @evyiione @graphitegator @bruxasolta @missredherring @writeforfandoms @sj-draws00

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Dave York #Dave York x reader #Dave York x you #Dave York x female reader #plus size reader #Equalizer 2 #Soulmate au #suburban murder daddy #dave york pit

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shotorozu · 3 years

Note

hello!! i saw that your requests were open and wanted to ask if you could do single dad! atsumu suna and sakusa falling in love with reader, like it's sort of a meet cute (or not) but the reader falls for them and the kid and happiness lskfjsdfk have a great day!!

single dad! falling for reader

character(s) : miya atsumu, suna rintarou, sakusa kiyoomi (haikyuu!!)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, timeskip au! (because,, single dads.)

headcanon type : fluff, crack and angst if you squint (x reader)

warning(s) : mentions of the character’s ex wives, the ex-wives being jerks for multiple different reasons and ways (so,, be warned. for negligence, not very detailed hitting, and cheating, but not on reader)

note(s) : me, writing for haikyuu?? wow, a surprise! also, it’s been a while since i’ve written for haikyuu so if i don’t get the characterization correctly— ESPECIALLY FOR SAKUSA, i’m sorry in advance.

»»————-　♡　————-««

miya atsumu

at first, his marriage was happy. miya atsumu— successful in his 20s, basically set for life, and with a head strong wife that gave him a wonderful daughter

he was elated when his son, genji came into this world. he wouldn’t swap him out for anyone else. and it was all good, really

until he started spotting marks on genji’s delicate skin, and he even found a large bruise on his shoulder when he was changing his shirt! he almost passed away seeing that

genji would also have a sudden fear of being alone in the house— even when his mother would stay behind to take care of him

but why though? genji’s only 4! what could’ve happened to him? he doesn’t recall hiring any babysitters.

he finally found the answer one day, when he found out that his head strong, intense wife— has been physical with him!

basically, all the love for his wife flew out the window, and he filed for a divorce— and of course, he won custody

and he assumed that his love life would stop at that— and it didn’t sound terrible. all that mattered was that his son was safe, and happy again

but this is where you come in

you work at a toy store, a small business toy store really, that sold the highest of quality only

and atsumu took genji to either replace, or fix the toy he broke a few days back. the place was recommended to him by shoyo— who also had a kid of his own

you’re just two years younger than him, eyes full of determination and care, practically the complete opposite of his ex-wife.

you put up a good conversation with him, while you fixed the toy— the two of you talking about the mutual friends, and that ‘this place should be a lot more popular.’

and also, his son did happen to take a liking to you. he seemed joyous in your presence— compared to how he was with his ex-wife

and from that moment on, the two of you would only become closer— especially when a bunch of his son’s toys started breaking magically

before atsumu knew it, he harbored something for you— the absolute angel you were to the both of them

“‘m sorry for the inconvenience,” the faux blond scratches the back of his next “didn’t know genji here was a ‘lil clumsy weasel,”

you laugh, and genji’s just staring at you with amusement, “it’s fine, genji could break his entire toy box— and i’d still fix it anyway.”

so this was the nerve wracking part, “to make up for it, would you like some coffee later? i could treat ‘ya.”

“is this yer way of askin’ Y/N—”

“shut yer mouth for a sec— uhm,” he looks at you, sheepishly

you laugh, “miya, i wouldn’t mind honestly. but i’d assume you’re busy as it is.”

“not at all!” atsumu replies, “i’ll just, drop off genji first. say yer thanks to Y/N,” atsumu looks at genji, encouraging him to say his thanks

“,,thanks for fixing my toys, Y/N.”

“no problem, genji.” you smile at the two of them when they move to leave the store, fixed toys in hand— as they wave at you before parting

“oh, Y/N?” atsumu calls out,

“yeah?”

“call me atsumu— from now on.” his cheeks are tinted pink, and he can feel genji’s eyes on him.

“oh, uhm. yeah! i’ll see you later, atsumu.”

so yeah— the two of you went out for some coffee, and before he even knew it, he was in love.

it might take him a few months to realize it though

suna rintarou

i can’t imagine him having kids for some reason 💀 but if he were to have any, he’d definitely have a daughter

rintarou himself, didn’t think he would have kids at at all, really. but the moment he was able to meet asuka— his lovely little daughter

he was hooked. he seemed a little awkward at first, not very used to caring for a child. but he was actually decent at his job

he’d sneak into his daughter’s room to hold her when she was upset— even when his wife was too knocked out to realize it, and he’d show her picture books

since she liked them a lot, even when she can’t coherently read a straight paragraph yet.

it started to concern him when he realized how little his wife was involved in the development of their daughter.

she started acting different, a little bit after she didn’t have to breastfeed asuka

and then, that’s when it happened.

“i literally can’t believe you,” he speaks when he’s packing his things, “we have a child together.”

his soon to be ex wife is on the floor, begging him to stay— but he doesn’t care. “look, the idea of you cheating wasn’t very surprising. i don’t care anymore, really. but the fact that you’ve been neglecting asuka for your selfish needs is low. i hope you’re ashamed of yourself.”

his words are so much different that his lenient, calm self. which only solidifies reality

so he leaves with asuka, not caring about the sobs that left his soon to be ex wife’s mouth.

and even though he was still angry at his wife for not being there, he’d never let it show to asuka

he’d still show her picture books, he’d still sit down and watch miraculous ladybug with her— even when she doesn’t understand it all completely

and speaking of picture books— he decided that he needed to buy more for her

so he took her to the bookstore, and he didn’t really know what he was doing. he bought all those previous books when asuka was still a newborn

now it’s a little fuzzy on what he should be looking for. colors, right? he needs a picture book that has plenty of colors.

and that’s where you come in. you’re youthful, despite looking not that far off his age, you’re humming to yourself as you fix the bookshelves

“uhm,” he calls out for your help, and you look at him in recognition “need any help? what are you looking for?”

there’s a helpful glint in your eyes, and it reminded him of what should’ve been in his ex wife’s eyes. “my daughter, likes picture books. and,, i don’t know what i’m doing.”

she’s basically a replica of him, same eye color, and same hair color. but her eyes are much more rounded, youthful.

“cute kid,” you smile when she coos at you, “the children books are this way, follow me!” you exclaim, moving to navigate your way to the children’s book isle

so it seems to be that you really know what you’re doing. most people would’ve recommended picture books with a lot of words, or just no words at all

but you’ve found the books that made asuka exclaim in happiness.

and although it’s not very obvious that rintarou’s caring to his child— he is, and you could tell. despite looking lost, and sometimes bored when you’re explaining the books.

so every 2 weeks, the father would return with his daughter, after he got back from volleyball— and you’d help them pick out on certain books.

rintarou assumed he’d never take a liking in anyone again, but,, here he is. and he doesn’t know how you’ll react to that.

but it’s worth a try— he’d try and get your number when he’d see you again

the next time you see him, the middle blocker’s alone. and he tells you that he needs more picture books for asuka, since she’s staying over at his volleyball friend’s house for a day

“Y/N,”

“yes?” you turn your head, meeting his stare. he looks well,, himself. like how he first sought out for your help a few weeks back

“,, could i get your number? y’know, just in case asuka wanted worded books in the future. you’ve helped a lot, so,,”

you smile, “is this your way of hitting on me?”

he didn’t think it was that obvious, “what?— i mean,” he fumbles to reason out, feeling a bit more awkward. because yes, he’s asking you out but,, he has the power to make things more laxed, y’know?

truthfully, you don’t know much about him. you know a lot about his daughter, sure! but you don’t know anything about her biological mother, or what happened, or why she’s not taking asuka to the bookstore

but you chose not to ask, out of respect. he’d tell you some other day. “i’m just teasing,” you smile, moving to get a small piece of paper— writing your digits on the paper, and placing it in his pocket

“i’d like to see you again,” you smile, “say hi to asuka for me.”

the middle blocker left the store in content, absolutely sure that asuka would love to see you again even when she can’t form proper sentences.

sakusa kiyoomi

didn’t think he’d be fit to be a father— but here he is

though he seems cold, he does take responsibility, and he does love and care for his child, seina

it’s not like he’ll be posting pictures of his child everywhere— i mean, even if he had a different personality, he still wouldn’t be posting his kid everywhere

but he does cherish seina, like his life depended on it. he’d still silently watch her cross out word puzzles in a messy matter, he’d silently listen to her talk about her favorite pastries

he loves her!

so that’s why it made him mad, when even after 4 years of seina being born, her mother made little to no effort in spending time with her

doesn’t matter if it was a simple gesture like tucking her in, or showing up to a birthday— she just,, never did.

it was almost as if she was ignoring seina, which causes some distraught on the child’s behalf— which passed on the negative feeling to him

like,, seina wasn’t an unbearable kid. sure, she acted up here and there, that’s an issue kiyoomi has been trying to fix on his own

but it was nothing too concerning, and it was containable. but his wife treated her like she was absolutely unbearable

and it was super strange because, she’d act normal around him, but would barely acknowledge her own daughter’s existence

so what did kiyoomi do? he confronted her, of course.

and no— his wife wasn’t cheating, and nothing tragic happened that would’ve caused her to be this way

she was just,, lazy

“so.. you gave birth and stopped caring for her? is that it?” furious was an understatement, considering that his wife forgot to make her daughter breakfast

which caused her to sneak out of the house, and ask for some breakfast from some nice neighbors.

“look, if you want nothing to do with her, just say that. i’m taking seina, and leaving.” so yeah now he’s a single father.

to say he didn’t love her was too quick, a part of him didn’t love the fact that his wife loved him, but didn’t show any sign of affection towards her daughter.

he knew it was going to fade away anyway. his feelings for his unofficial ex wife.

and i don’t think he’d plan on seeing new people, since now these days— people just like the idea of being with him

which meant that most people would’ve been scared away, or turned off if they really sat down in a conversation with him

besides the point, kiyoomi was taking his daughter to the bakery again— as she was craving new pastries, and wanted to go to the new bakery that just opened near by

and kiyoomi was like “why not ig” and took her there— but then, this is where he’d meet you for the first time

you were one of the bakers, and it’s not like he was going to pay attention to you— until you did something even HE couldn’t do

“papa, whyyyy” the whining sounding painful in his ears, as his daughter clung to the display of pastries “can’t we get moreeee??”

“seina,” he sighs, “no, we can’t.”

“but—”

“papa, you’re no fair!” her bottom lip trembles, and he could almost FEEL the judgmental stares of the other customers in the bakery

and this is where you come in, “is something the matter?”

“papa won’t.. get me more!” she stares at the selection of pastries, “i’ve been so nice but.. it’s no fair!” her eyes tear up

“don’t cry,” you bend down to blot her tears away with a tissue, “y’know, he probably has a reason, but you’re in luck— actually!” you maneuver behind the counter

you come out from behind, presenting a fresh batch of pastries— that were just right to his daughter’s liking, to the point that it shut her up entirely

“they’re on the house, today’s our opening day, so it’s the bakery’s treat!”you state in a warming matter, grabbing a paper bag to place the pastries in

kiyoomi stares at you, observing you quietly— you could feel his cold stare, even though he’s wearing a medical face mask, that covers about half of his face

you blink, not knowing what is going through his head, and you gesture to his daughter to take them

you clearly don’t know who he is— and that gives kiyoomi some sort of relief, compared to the other customers that are murmuring to each other “sakusa kiyoomi’s here with his daughter! is this what he does in his free time?”

kiyoomi takes the paper bag, giving some sort of non verbal acknowledgement, before he takes his daughter’s hand and leaves

“bye, kind person!” seina calls out to you, which catches you off guard— this causes your coworkers to coo at the girl’s words

“didn’t know sakusa’s daughter was so cute!”

and you’d assume that your interactions with the quiet stranger and his daughter would end at that, but no! life is full of surprises.

the tall masked father comes in again, a little bit before closing time— you were absolutely beat, your back feeling as if boulders were glued to the back, and your feet burning from all of the rush

“oh, what could i do for you?”

he stays quiet, but a small presence sticks behind him, and peers up to you. the face is familiar to you, so you wave “hi there! it’s nice to see you again.”

“i wanna say thanks.” her rounded eyes practically shimmer when they lay themselves on the pastries again, but she shakes her head “for the pastries! they’re very tasty.”

“i’m glad you like them, what was your favorite part of the pastry?”

“the filling! twas yummy!” she gives a toothy grin, “tell me, where ‘dya learn to bake like that?”

kiyoomi stares at the scene unfolding before him. it was.. new. unfamiliar— he hasn’t seen his daughter act like this with anyone else— besides him and his team mates. so, he simply watched.

seina babbled and babbled, much to the your amusement— and the other staff members. you listened to her with your full attention, your interest never wavering in the slightest

it’s a bit later, kiyoomi holds a tired seina in his arms— you expect him to leave the bakery, his daughter’s wishes been fulfilled, and he wouldn’t have a reason to stick around

but then he presents to you a large stack of cash “for the pastries. my,, daughter really liked them.”

your eyes widen, “sir! i told you, the pastries were on the house!” you shake your head, “either way, i can’t take this! it’s too much for some pastries!”

“no, seina insists. in fact, she’s entirely why i’m here.” his tone stays consistent, but even with the mask— you could tell that he’s smiling. “she’s well,, everything. if she’s set on something, then she’ll do everything to achieve her goal.”

you smile at the statement, “thanks for bringing her here sir..?”

kiyoomi hesitates to tell you his name for a moment, an unfamiliar, yet familiar pound in his chest rises— he chooses to not figure it out right now, considering that it would be too soon to pursue a romantic relationship.

but, if his daughter brought him here, then it must be for a reason. “kiyoomi.”

“right,” you smile, “thanks for coming here, kiyoomi. you can give me a call, if seina wants any more pastries.” you write your number on a piece of paper, and hand it to him

he doesn’t reply, but he does take the piece of paper anyway— keeping it in his pocket

and for once, he thinks that he doesn’t hate having to go to the bakery weekly., because there’ll be a warm presence there to greet him— and of course, seina.

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own hq!! and it’s characters. haikyuu!! belongs to furudate haruichi, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission :))

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

物の哀れ ( ‘the sadness of things’.)

Characters : Alpha! Jungkook x Omega ! OC.

ABO Dynamics.

Genre : Arranged Marriage / Temporary contractual Marriage.

Warnings : Non- Con/ Extremely Dubious Consent . High functioning alcoholism. Genre related consent issues. Implied suicidal thoughts.

Summary : A recently widowed Jungkook agrees to a contract marriage to keep his company afloat. His grief overwhelms him and it is hard to look at his new wife as anything other than an intruder .

[ Author’s Note : 物の哀れ ~ Mono no aware can be translated as ‘the sadness of things’. It comes from the words 物 (mono – thing) and 哀れ (aware – poignancy or pathos). The ‘sadness’ in question comes from an awareness of the transience of things, as taught by Zen Buddhism. When we view something exceptionally beautiful, we might feel sad because we know it won’t stay so beautiful forever – but appreciation only heightens the pleasure we take in the beautiful thing in that moment. ]

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I wrapped the white wool shawl tighter around my shoulders. The night was still chilly and the and smelt faintly of impending rain. Why they would plan a party outside while it rained, was beyond me.

After my little skirmish with Jungkook, I had found Namjoon quickly only to be told that we couldn’t leave for another hour at least because there was a certain investor who wanted to meet Namjoon . The guy was running late and he had to wait for him. So here I stood, shivering lightly, all while keeping an eye on my husband as he got progressively drunk.

Namjoon’s words made me sigh a little.

“You can’t decide what someone else’s normal is, Namjoon. Especially when it comes to grief. But the drinking is an issue. And you’re right about the therapist. I know she’s doing her best but I’m not sure if she has the right answers for him. Or even the right tools to help him.”

“I’ve been searching up on therapists who specialize with alphas. There’s one in Itaewon , his name is Kim Taehyung. I really think he could help. He’s an alpha himself.”

“That sounds good. Betas may not fully understand alpha mating bonds or what it’s like when one of them dies. Taehyung may have a better understanding of what Jungkook’s going through.” I nodded, a little hopeful.

Therapy with the beta lady the hospital had recommended wasn’t really helping Jungkook the way it ought to.

Namjoon hesitated.

“Would you be willing to go with him? Taehyung insists a family member stay in the waiting room just in case...” he asked gently. I turned back to look at my husband, leaning on the mahogany countertop of the bar, fingers curled around a glass of whiskey.

“And I’m the one you want to consider for that? That’s ridiculous. Jungkook hates me.” Did I really have remind him of this salient fact?

“I’ve offered to, before. He doesn’t want me there." I sighed as Jungkook threw the drink back with ease.

“That was three months ago though. Things have changed now right?” Namjoon prodded.

I laughed, shaking my head.

“Not between us they haven’t. He’s spending more time with Mina and he isn’t throwing stuff around but he still loathes me.”

“He loathes what you represent: his own shortcomings and failures. Your father wasn’t kind in his approach and you are a reminder of all the things he can’t control.”

How fucking unfair, I thought playing with the tiny ring on my finger ( or should i say handcuff really? ), my wedding ring , the platinum band engraved with my husband’s name, a drop of his blood embossed into the metal.

An archaic tradition, that carried no meaning in modern Seoul but the idea of it was still alive and well. The idea that what we had was a blood bond, imbued in our veins now. An alpha’s connection with a beta or an alpha mate was usually quite fragile. But an alpha and omega mate bond. That was supposed to be powerful.

Unless the alpha was still phantom bonded to a dead wife , that is. It was odd thing. Mate bonds had to be mutual to work. So there was no bond between Jungkook and I . We didn’t have any feelings for each other of course. But wearing someone’s blood on yourself changed that . it forced a bond that wasn’t there. It was ancient magic and it worked on my kind. Not on his.

How fucking unfair because it wasn’t like I could control any of this either?

I grimaced. I had thought of taking the ring off

“Ouch.” I said with a smile. Namjoon waved off my self pity with an eye roll.

“You know what I mean. Even for an Alpha, Jungkook has always held on to his pride. Losing his wife and his company all in the same week probably left him feeling incredibly helpless and your father browbeat him into this whole thing. Of course he isn’t going to be eager to share heart to heart talks with you. ”

I held my hand up.

“I know all that Namjoon. I was there, remember? And I’m not blaming him for any of that. Trauma makes you do shitty things and I understand that . I also understand that if he was in his right mind he wouldn’t behave the way he does now. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t change his mind for him. If he doesn’t want to get help, I’m kind of helpless myself, you know?”

Namjoon reached out and squeezed my hand.

“I’m just asking you this because , he does listen to you at times. I’ve noticed it. He doesn’t outwardly agree with you but he takes your opinions into consideration. And, Heejin you live with him and you’re the one who managed to convince him to start scenting Mina. ”

And God, how exhausting that had been. I had kept at it because Mina was so young and she needed her father’s scent to grow. And while i could be persistent when necessary, I couldn’t work miracles.

“Namjoon oppa, “ I said softly, trying to explain myself without sounding like a horrible human, “ I don’t hate Jungkook. Far from it. I want him to get the help he needs and I’m here for him. If you can convince him to go see Taehyung and he’s okay with me coming along, I won’t say no. Mina needs him and there’s nothing I would like more than for him to get better. ” i smiled a little, “ But he’s still going to have to be the one to make that choice. i can’t make it for him.”

Namjoon nodded.

“ Fair enough. Well, I’ll talk to him about it. We’ll set something up. Thank you for not refusing Heejinah. I know it can’t be easy for you either.

I opened my mouth to respond but out of the corner of my eyes I caught a glimpse of someone, staring intently right at me.

I turned sharply, eyes locking with those of Kim Yugyeom and I stiffened, stepping closer to Namjoon on instinct. Yugyeom smirked, winking at me.

I shuddered in disgust.

Creep.

Namjoon followed my line of vision and swore.

“This motherfucker.” He made to move towards him. and I grabbed his arm, fingers digging into his forearm. The last thing i wanted to witness was an alpha alpha showdown in the middle of a party with me in the middle.

“Please, no. Don’t make a scene. It’s what he wants.”

“Jungkook has the shittiest friends on the planet.” Namjoon shook his head and I couldn’t agree more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mina’s appointment with the doctor went about as expected. She was right on time with her milestones and I sat in the waiting office for a mere twenty minutes before being called in. The doctor, an alpha named Min Yoongi gave me a small smile of recognition before flipping through the pages of her file.

“ Jungkook didn’t come along?” He asked casually, grabbing a pen and making a note of her weight and length before plotting it on the small graph. She was a little on the smaller side but she was growing well.

“He’s busy...” i said with a shrug, “ So I still keep giving her the polyvisol supplements?”

Yoongi nodded, “ The nurse will fill in the prescription for you. Are you sure he’s busy? He called me last night and told me he wanted to come see me?”

I blinked.

“He did ? “ I couldn’t quite process this.

“He wanted to talk about how she’s doing and I told him he could come in for her appointment today.”

I imagined a world where Jungkook actually spoke to me, instead of forcing me to navigate stormy waters on rotten plywood. Nine more months, i told myself firmly, already digging for my phone. Nine more months and I would be out of this living hell I’d gotten trapped in.

“Can I try calling him? He’s probably forgotten. I think he might regret missing out.” I begged and Yoongi gave me a small smile, waving me off.

“Of course you can Heejin-ah and tell him that if he wants I can drop by at the office and talk to him as well.”

I nodded quickly , moving out to the waiting area while the nurses held Mina, soothing her before getting her ready for her shots. I tried calling him and not surprisingly he didn’t pick up. I called his office next and Jungkook’s secretary picked up the phone .

The woman hated me.

“He’s busy.” She said curtly.” He’s specifically asked me not to bother him with stuff that isn’t important.”

Her whiny voice grated on my ears and i bit my lips to keep the irritation in.

“Since when does his daughter make that list, Ms Lee?” I said calmly and she hesitated.

“He’s in a meeting right now and-”

“I’m in the hospital with his daughter. I hope you’re willing to take the heat when he finds out that you wouldn’t let me get through to him. “ I said casually.

It was a twisted version of the truth for sure. Meant to imply that Mina was hurt in some way. But I couldn’t bring myself to regret it much. I had enough on my plate without dealing with twenty year old secretaries who fancied themselves in love with their hot boss.

“I... just a moment, Mrs. Jeon.”

I loathed the name. It wasn’t mine. It was hers and I felt like a thief every time someone addressed me that way.

After two minutes, Jungkook’s familiarly low and perpetually exhausted voice came out ,

“Hello? Heejin?” He sounded listless and his voice just a little slurred and i groaned.

“Please tell me you aren’t drunk.” I whispered.

“I’m not. “ He said shortly. “ What’s wrong? What happened? Is Mina alright? ”

“Did you tell Yoongi that you were going to meet him today?”

He was quiet for a second.

“i’ll talk to him.”

He hung up and I stared at the phone. I realized that I shouldn’t have called him in the first place. Should have asked Yoongi to call him himself. What was wrong with me? Even a few syllables exchanged with Jungkook felt like staring into an abyss .

I moved back to the clinic , just as Mina plaintive wail filled the room. The shots were done. It took us another thirty five minutes to finish filling her prescriptions and for Yoongi to finish examining her. She was already dozing off and I wasn’t supposed to feed her for another thirty minutes so perhaps the nap would do her good. I had just finished settling her into her Bjorn carrier when Jungkook’s voice came from the entryway.

“Is this the way to Dr. Min’s office?”

I glanced back to watch him . He looked ridiculously handsome in a three piece suit, jacket thrown over his arm and hair lightly damp from the misty drizzle outside. I saw the secretary’s mouth actually drop open and stay agape as she tried to process his questions. i could see the way his beauty had rendered her entirely witless and as someone who had experienced it first hand , i could sympathize,

But Jungkook was beginning to look annoyed from the lack of response and i decided to give the poor girl a break.

“He’s waiting for you.” I called out and Jungkook startled. He glanced up at me and for some reason he looked surprised. He always looked surprised when he saw me. As if i was just some monster out of his worst nightmares turning up in odd places . As if he couldn’t quite believe that i did exist in his life now. Unwelcome but impossible to avoid.

“You’re here.” He said blankly.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

“Yes, i am. I’ve been here for three months now. “ i said shortly, before i could stop myself, “ Mina’s fine. She just had her shots. I’m going to drive home and put her down for a nap. Do you want me to come with you ?” I pointed at the clinic.

He hesitated before shaking his head.

It was all according to script then. Jungkook would never include me in a single thing. Even if i was smack damn in the middle of the room with nowhere else to go.

“Alright. i’ll see you after work.”

“We’ll have guests for dinner today. ” He said suddenly.

I stared at him, confused.

“For dinner??”

“ Sooah’s parents.”

Oh, God.

Wary of the extra nurses suddenly filling the room, the little whispers and the curious glances, i kept my smile even.

“Of course. ” I bowed a little before turning on my heel and walking away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sooah’s parents were, for lack of a better word, selfish .

They had lost a daughter, so of course i could understand with their need to keep their daughter’s memory alive. But the way they chose to do it was unhealthy and borderline vindictive.

" She’s growing well.” Mrs. Kim had the same statuesque figure as her model daughter and she held her grandchild with a slightly unsure grip and Mina felt the uncertainty in her grip, breaking out into cries at once. I stayed still, my throat dry from disuse. I hadn’t said a word since they came in.

We were seated at the table, dinner was done.

Jungkook sat next to me, staring straight ahead while his father in law tried to engage him in conversation.

With Jungkook, the grief came in waves. Some days, the waves were small and gentle, like the ones that lapped at your feet on the shore of a tranquil lake. on those days e went about his day as usual, spoke to his friends and signed deals. And somedays they were big, behemoths carrying guilt and accusation, crashing over his head with a vengeance.

On those days , he looked like he’d been run over by a two ton truck.

Today was just one of those days and i could sense it.

The man was going on an on about some charity that Sooah had been involved in as a young girl... Could Jungkook make a contribution in her name?. Could Jungkook pay for a concert of her favorite singer in her hometown..? Could Jungkook possibly consider contributing to opening a foundation in her name?

I could feel the urge to scream, grow by the minute.

Each syllable that spilled out of her father’s mouth was aggravating, the sentences began and ended with her name, over and over over again and It felt terribly like she was standing right next to me, ice cold and dead but real and relentless at the same time. He spoke of her like she was still alive and i couldn’t fathom how that was healthy. How that was going to help Jungkook move on.

If anything it made it harder for him to move on.

And in a moment of chilling clarity, i realized that this is what they wanted.

They didn’t want Jungkook to move on from her. They wanted him to be consumed by her. In the wake of that realization , i felt anger surge.

There was just enough hurt and heartbreak and pain and grief in this room without these idiots adding to it.

“Jungkook is tired tonight, uncle.. Perhaps we can discuss this later.” I said finally, unable to bear it any more.

The man gave me a glare.

“I wasn’t talking to you girl.” He said sharply. I frowned.

“We’re trying to help Jungkook. “ The woman said sharply. “ Unlike you and your father we do not prey on the weak. “

Jungkook shifted at the phrase and I glared at her.

“He isn’t weak. “ I snapped, resisting the urge to add on a you bitch , “He’s grieving . And what he needs is space to process his grief. Not you people trying to shove your daughter into his throat with every sentence. “

“Don’t you dare talk about our daughter!” Mrs. Kim snarled and i felt a headache come on.

“I thought that was why you were here? To talk about her? Or should I say use her as an excuse to get money out of him?? What you’re doing is unfair and awful!! . Jungkook isn’t ready to talk about this and one look at his face should tell you that, if you even bothered looking at anything except his wallet.” I shouted.

“Heejin, that’s enough.” Jungkook said hoarsely and i bit my lips.

Of course he wasn’t going to support me even if we were on the same side. Defending him, protecting him was exhausting and it was such a thankless job. i wanted it to end.

“I think we should call this a night. please, just leave” I said sharply, standing up and reaching for Mina. She glared at me but handed the baby over.

“You don’t get to make that decision. My son in law is who I’m here to see. You’re just the parasite that’s attached herself to him. You sit there in my daughter’s place and you dare disrespect me this way. ” The woman snapped.

“Its still my house. “ I gritted out. “ I’m married to Jungkook whether you like it or not and so i have the right to ask you to get out of my house.”

“Heejin, stop.” Jungkook’s voice only made me angrier. He sounded drained and empty and still these leeches wanted to suck him dry. And he was too blind to see it.

“I’m done with this” I stood up moving to the small pack and play that sat in the corner of the living room. i placed Mina in and watcher her eyes flutter shut gently.

i turned back to stare at Mrs. Kim.

“i want the pair of you to leave. Get out before I call security.”

She gaped at me.

“you had a wedding... that doesn’t make it a fucking marriage. “ she sneered. “ Its probably not even legal until you consummate it. So go ahead, call the cops right now. You think i wouldn’t take you to court. ??!! ”

She was spouting absolute nonsense, probably driven by her own grief but i wasn’t feeling particularly charitable tonight.

“Why don’t you ask your son in law that? Ask him if the marriage was consummated or not...” I smirked.

She faltered, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“No. You’re lying ...he wouldn’t.” She turned to Jungkook who looked at me with fury in his eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He said sharply and I scoffed.

“With me? What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with these idiots that they think they can come here and ask you to sign a fucking cheque when you’re still out here grieving for their daughter?!”

“You don’t know shit about them or her...”

“I don’t have to. I don’t have to and i don’t care to either. All I know is that i married you and you’re my husband and whether you meant those vows or not, i did. I swore in front of my God and my family and I’m going to keep those promises. I’m going to protect you because I love your daughter . I’m going to protect you because you need to fucking live to be able to care for her. “

i turned to stare at his in-laws. They were staring at me, some of the fire dying out and in the span of a few minutes they somehow looked older .

“You don’t deserve to be here.” Mr. Kim said finally, voice cracking and i exhaled.

“And yet, here I am. And I’m not leaving. you are.” I said calmly.

They stared at me for one more second before standing up and moving out of the dining space and into the hallways leading out.

“We’ll call you later Jungkook-ah...” The man said before walking out of the door and slamming it shut behind him.

The silence between us grew heavier as the seconds ticked.

“We can’t decide how people grieve.” Jungkook said softly.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“You’re telling me that , Jungkook? Or did you forget all the times I indulged you when the only way you could grieve was apparently by forcing yourself on me.” i snapped.

His eyes widened , just a fraction before going blank again.

He took a deep breath and went on.

“They lost their daughter and they’re hurting. We can’t tell them they aren’t allowed to honor her memory...They’re clearly in pain...”

“Not more than you!” i snapped. “ You’re the one in pain here Jungkook. Your pain is so much more than theirs ..... Or may be it isn’t i don’t know.. But i do know that I can’t sit here and watch them bleed all over you when you’re cut just as deep as them.”

“You don’t know shit about e!” He roared. “ Don’t you fucking dare talk about my grief like you can understand it...like you actually know what its like to lose the woman who had your fucking heart, because if you did you wouldn’t have agreed to this fucking marriage...you wouldn’t be here in this room with me, intruding on my grief and my pain... “

The sound of his voice made my entire body freeze in fear. I stayed perfectly still, jumping when he crossed the distance between us and grabbed my face, fingers curling around my jaw.

“ You want to know how i wanted to grieve? I wanted to grieve in solitude!!! I wanted to grieve without some fucking stranger hovering over my shoulder like a fucking plague!”

I exhaled shakily, fingers trembling as i reached up to hold his wrist, my entire jaw throbbing with how hard his grip was.

“It’s the price you pay for getting your company back. Jeon Jungkook. “ I choked out.” Or did you forget that marrying me is the reason you aren’t homeless on the streets “

He laughed a little yanking me closer and wrapping an arm around my waist.

“You’ve learned to talk back these days...” He muttered , “ I think I preferred the girl who hid in the nursery for the first three weeks of our wedding.”

“I wasn’t hiding . I was avoiding you. Because your misery was contagious and i didn’t want any of it on me.” I snapped and his hold on my waist tightened.

“Are you trying to make me angry? ” He snapped, fingers curling on my waist and I swallowed the whimper of pain that threatened.

“Maybe i am... Maybe anything is better than watching you walk around this house like a corpse. You’re alive so I don’t see why you act like you died with her.”

He growled at that, eyes blazing as he stepped back enough to stare into my face.

“You’re right... I didn’t die with her. Although i wanted to...Maybe if i wasn’t such a fucking coward, i would have gone through with it. .” He laughed and I felt my heart go ice cold at the very thought of it.

“You didn’t die... So why don’t you get some help. There’s no shame in getting help... Taehyung...”

“I don’t need help. i need to be alone.” He snarled. “ I need to be allowed to cry and mourn my wife the way I want to but you and your father made sure that i couldn’t.”

I sighed, looking away in defeat.

“Fucking look at me!” He snarled, hands grabbing both my arms and yanking me forward. “ Why won’t you look at me huh? is the guilt finally catching up?”

“No. No guilt. Just loathing and resentment.” I snapped back and he laughed again.

“Well too bad. Because you know what? You’re right. I paid for my company with my right to grieve and you...you paid for my name with your right to say no . “

I swallowed as he yanked me away from the table, dragging me to the couch in the side.

“ I never refused you a thing.” I choked out, breathing ragged as he shoved me into the soft leather surface, crawling on top of me at once. “ I only said no when you were drunk out of your mind. When you thought it was okay to fuck me and call me by her name.”

He made swift work of the buttons of my blouse and I stayed still, arms lying by my side.

“ Are you telling me you want this ? You expect me to believe you want my hands on your body?” He sneered, fingers moving up to grip my hair. “You don’t want this and you don’t want me....Just like i don’t want you either. i’ll never want you. ”

“You don’t want me.??.. You have a funny way of showing it..” I scoffed , staring right into his eyes rolling my hips up into his , greeted by the hard press of his length against my thigh. “ And to be honest i don’t give a damn if you’re still in love with her , all I want is my name on your lips if you want to get off with me. Because I’m not just a toy you can use to replace your dead wife. I have a name and you should remember it. "

He growled again, fingers squeezing hard against the back of my head till my scalp felt like it was on fire.

“I hate you. “ He said clearly. “ I hate you and everything you’ve done to me.”

“Everything I’ve done to you? Oh you mean save your life? Taek care of your baby girl like she was my own? Give you the chance to rebuild your entire career.? Turn you into multi millionaire again? Good. Hate me. The feelings mutual. “ I snapped. “Now if you hate me so much why are you still here? Get off me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, wife.” He sneered. “ Because like you said, I’ve paid for this.” He drawled, reaching down and squeezing between my legs. “And I’d be a pretty bad businessman if i don’t collect from my investments.”

Before I could retort, he pulled back, just enough to grab me by the waist and flip me over on my front. I flinched when he grabbed my arms, yanking them back and trapping my wrists together in his fist at the base of my spine. My cheeks pressed into the leather couch, sticky and uncomfortable.

i heard the sound of his zipper, the clink of his belt buckle.

Coward.

I shivered when he pushed my skirt up.

“Don’t enjoy this too much, yeah?” I snapped, “ You hate me remember?”

“Easy enough to forget its you when I don’t have to look at you.” he retorted.

He slipped one arm under my waist, lifting me up just enough for him to yank my panties down.

“Just remember , you don’t get to blame the alcohol for this .” I sneered. “ You’re sober and clear headed and you’re hard for me. “

Somehow that seemed to bother him.

He stopped .

I could feel the hesitation in his limbs.

It made me laugh.

“You know Jungkook, i took you for lot of things but a coward wasn’t one of them.”

“What the fuck does that mean huh? I should put you in your fucking place for how insolent you are with me... ” he pressed down on me and i gasped when I felt his chest pressing into my back, his face inches from my own. I flinched when he sank his teeth into the mating mark on my neck.

“it means that if you’re going to do this, if you’re going to talk big about putting me in my place like the big bad alpha that you are, at least own up to the fact that you’re attracted to me. ”

“ You forget your fucking place, omega.” he hissed, voice sharp and furious against my ear. “ Another word out of that mouth and i won’t be responsible for what i do.” I gritted my teeth when he curled his fingers around the inside of my thigh, parting my legs and settling in between.

He pushed into me in one strong thrust and my eyes flew open in shock.

“Fuck.... why are you so fucking tight...” He groaned and my shoulders began to throb as he fucked into me, setting a punishing speed that left both of us panting . We were too fucking would up for it to last any longer than a few minutes and yet, i could feel pleasure swell inside me, wetness seeping out of me and onto the leather couch beneath us.

I wondered just how fucked up this whole thing was. Just how much damage were we doing to each other?? But it was hard to care too much about it, because even if though it was a terrible way to talk things out at least he had talked. It was nothing new....nothing earth shatteringly enlightening but he had said it all out loud and that made a difference.

“You think you can come into my life and dictate how i fucking live.” He grunted against my ear, fingers tightening on my hair. “ it pisses me off.”

“Everyone dies, Jungkook. People die and they leave loved ones behind but Life goes on. It has to go on. You can’t just pause life to grieve. Mina needs you.” I felt my eyes begin to sting with tears, the adrenaline from the argument fading and my body threatening to go limp as he drove into me at the same punishing pace.

He didn’t respond, fingers closing around my throat and squeezing lightly instead.

“Save your platitudes before i decide that the warmth of your body isn’t worth the grate of your voice on my ear.” He snapped and I whimpered when he stilled, spilling into me.

He stayed pressed up against me. breathing harshly against my ear and i waited till both our breaths evened out.

“It’s not selfish to move on Jungkook. You aren’t insulting your wife’s memory by wanting to move on. “ I said softly. ” Someday your heart and mind will agree with me. Whether you like it or not. That’s just how pain works, Jungkook. One day it’ll pack itself up and walk out of your heart in the middle of the night. You just have to hold on till then.”

He didn’t reply, merely drawing himself up and off me.

Once i heard the door to his bedroom slam shut i dragged myself up , thighs shaking and sticky. I grimaced at the mess on the couch. I stared at the packet of baby wipes on the table nearby and shuddered. That just felt wrong.

I’d just have to go grab a washcloth from the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On that weekend, we had another dinner to attend, this time with a few investors from out of the country or so Namjoon told me.

Although we didn’t talk about what happened and he didn’t try to touch me again, things were subtly different.

Something had changed in the way Jungkook behaved with me. There was a little less of the usual zombie like indifference and he actually seemed to be avoiding alcohol actively. It was a welcome change. But to make up for it, Mina went into a growth spurt. Which meant ten minute naps every hours or so with wailing sobs in between.

i was exhausted.

So much so that Jungkook told me that he didn’t want to pick Mina up from Seokjin’s place till the next day.

It was a little past one in the morning when I finally trudged into the apartment. Jungkook wasn’t black out drunk but he was definitely a little loose limbed, eyes just a shade more glassy than usual.

“Tonight went well. I’m thinking the guy from Macau is definitely going to consider investing.” He muttered, gripping the door frame and taking off his shoes.

I toed my own heels off, feeling upset and bereft.

“Why would you tell Jin oppa that we’ll get Mina in the morning? She’s not used to being away the whole night.” I complained, feeling jittery and nervous because the house felt so empty and strange .

I didn’t like the idea of being alone with Jungkook without the buffer of his daughter between us. The house felt foreign, the walls seemingly closer together , the space to cramped.

Jungkook dropped his keys in the bowl and tugged on his tie, watching me carefully.

“It’s too late and Jin hyung said she was already asleep. He’ll drop her off in the morning. Just relax. Would you like a drink?”

I stared at him.

What now?

He looked nervous and a tad worried.

Swallowing , I shook my head, turning on my heel.

“I’m going to bed.” I was almost at the door to the nursery when he grabbed my arm, seemingly moving faster than I could breathe.

“Wait, Heejin… “ He stopped, worrying his lip between his teeth before sighing, “I… I need to say something..” He finished and I exhaled sharply.

I tugged on my arm but he wouldn’t let go.

“Jungkook , let me go.” I said sharply. “ I’m not in the mood tonight . You aren’t drunk now and I’m running out of reasons to excuse your actions.”

His hold on my arm relaxed but he didn’t let go.

“Namjoon hyung told me about that new therapist.... Kim Taehyung?? . I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He said roughly.

I sighed, defeated. It was expected and yet it stung. I wondered if perhaps I was just beating a dead horse at this point. But Mina deserved to have a father who loved her with all his heart and Jungkook’s heart was so filled with grief it had no place for his daughter. If there was any chance I could help change that, I would take it.

I tugged my arm away again and this time he let go.

I tried to smile encouragingly. it was hard because i was all out of comfort, my own exhaustion too overwhelming at the moment.

So I took a deep breath and reached out to lightly touch his arm.

“Listen, no one’s asking you to make a decision tonight, Jungkook.” I tried to smile a bit more widely but it probably came out as a grimace, “ Just sleep on it and think about why you think it isn’t a good idea. Taehyung’s an alpha and he may understand you better. Think about it and you can let Namjoon know later.”

He didn’t reply, merely staring at me till I began to feel a little hot around the collar.

“Well, Good night then.” I made to turn away but he grabbed me again, this time by my wrist.

“Wait.”

Patience wearing just a little thin, I stared at him, waiting as he requested.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night. At the party last week. About you not being her mother. I shouldn’t have said that.”

It was the first time he had apologized for anything.

It took me a second to even remember what he was talking about.

“Alright. I’m not mad. And I understand why you said it. Its fine. And you’re right. I’m not her mother and I should be more careful. ”

He nodded and then stepped back.

“ I’m sorry. For a lot of things. ” He bowed awkwardly and I could only stare at him, shaking my head. The apologies were somehow both welcome and abhorrent to me.

They were the kind of apology you would offer a stranger. And that made them insincere because I wasn’t a stranger. I’d been through too much these past few months, to be treated that way.

For now I could only accept them at face value.

“ Its alright. Just go to bed Jungkook. And listen to Namjoon oppa . I know you don’t trust me but you should trust him. He only wants what’s best for you. ”

I sounded twenty years older than I actually was and grimaced.

"There’s one more thing. Can I... I need... “ He stopped and stared at the floor.

I felt a huge sense of foreboding rise up at that.

“Are you going to pull the i paid for your body card? “ I said bitterly. “ You made it very clear that i can’t say no. I don’t see why you’re bothering to-”

“You can say no.” He said softly. “ You can say no.”

And then he looked up at with limpid doe eyes, shining with all the stars in the galaxy and I wanted to sob at the unfairness of it all.

“ And if I say no, where will you go? To a brothel? you’ll come back smelling like another beta or omega and you can’t come near your daughter till it fades. Which is what? A week? “

Jungkook didn’t say anything and I felt helpless.

“Is that why you sent her away tonight?” I demanded and he looked genuinely surprised.

“What? No. Of course not . i just...You looked exhausted. I thought you’d like a night off. And just... I don’t want to have sex. Can you just sleep with me. I just... I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“What’s so special about tonight?” i rolled my eyes already moving to his bedroom instead of the nursery.

He stared at me for a few seconds, eyes empty in the dark of the hallway.

I waited a whole minute before sighing. This was excruciating and my heels hurt from wearing heels all evening. i wanted to curl into the air mattress on the floor of the nursery , possibly lie sleepless till dawn and then drive down to pick Mina up from Jin’s place.

“Jungkook , let’s just go to bed and forget-”

“Its her birthday.”

I barely heard him, his lips barely moved and his voice was so low.

I stared at him. Not sure if I’d misheard.

“What?”

“Its her birthday. “ He repeated.

“You can say her name.” i said calmly. “ You’re not betraying her by saying her name out loud in front of me.”

He went a little stiff at that and i wanted to kick myself for the remark. What a hypocrite I was. I’d reprimanded Namjoon for trying to dictate Jungkook’s grief and here I was , doing the exact same thing.

“I’m sorry. God, Jungkook... I’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that. i didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me.. I... of course you don’t have to be alone. Should i call Namjoon oppa? Or Jimin?” I asked gently.

“It’s Sooah’s birthday.” He was still staring at the floor, apparently he hadn’t heard a word I’d said.

I had a sudden flash of memory, remembering that Jungkook used to sing. He had sung at his wedding seven years ago. Serenaded his wife as she walked down the aisle. I had been young then but i remembered thinking how evident his love was in every syllable sung .

Something i could hear even now, in the way he said her name.

“Okay. What would you like to do? I... I can make seaweed soup.” I said softly. “ We can go see her if you like?”

He stared at me.

��I want to go alone.” He said finally.

I hesitated.

“I’ll drive you. i’ll stay in the car. You can’t drive.” I reminded him.

Jungkook’s driver’s license had been suspended after one too many traffic violations. I drove him around often .

He didn’t reply, staring out of the huge bay windows and i sighed.

“Alright... Why don’t you go change into something more comfortable yeah? i’ll get the soup going and we, “ i bit my lips, “ , I’m sorry, And you can go see her. “ I smiled, before moving to the kitchen and grabbing the dried seaweed. I soaked it in cold water, before getting the beef, garlic, soy sauce, salt and pepper and the sesame oil from the cupboards.

Ten minutes later, the soup was boiling away and I peered out at the door leading to his bedroom. I was still wearing the cocktail gown and my head was beginning to throb. I oved to the nursery and stripped quickly, slipping on my white t shirt and a pair of pink corduroy shorts.

I would be in the car anyway. By the time i finished taking off all my make up, the soup was done and Jungkook was slumped over the counter. He looked drained, more so than usual . In fact he looked notably worse than how he was ten minutes ago.

Torn between the urge to draw him into my arms and the helpless knowledge that he would absolutely hate me touching him , i merely hovered near the stove, pouring the stove into a small airtight container.

On a whim I moved to the cupboard in the corner that housed all the crockery and threw it open.

“What was her favorite bowl?” I said casually, staring at him.

He blinked, staring at me like i was speaking a foreign tongue.

“Her favorite bowl , Jungkook The one she always drank or ate from?”

He swallowed but leaned his palms down on the granite countertop, levering himself off the tall stool of the kitchen island and making his way over to me. I stepped back, giving him space to peer into the depths of the black marble shelves.

He finally stuck a hand in and drew out a pale yellow and mauve bowl , a little worn but intact.

He held it carefully, running his fingers gently over the bowl, savoring the surface his wife had once caressed with her own fingers. I watched as his lips curved, a pale pale imitation of a smile but a smile nonetheless and I felt my breath catch in my throat.

This was probably the first time he’d smiled in the three months i’d known him.

My heart began to pound, a steady staccato that began rising in volume and i willed myself to stay calm.

“I..uh.. I can wash it for you.” I said softly .

The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come and he stared at my outstretched hand like it was a snake .

Face almost eerily blank he cleared his throat.

“I’ll do it.”

i watched as he moved to wash the bowl under the spray from the faucet and finished clearing up the kitchen. i grabbed a small bag to keep the sea wood soup in and held the bag open when Jungkook finished washing the bowls. He grabbed a fresh kitchen towel and carefully wiped down the moisture before wrapping the bowl in the towel and keeping it inside the bag, carefully.

I smiled and zipped the bag shut.

“Lets go shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sat waiting in the car, staring out into the darkness of the parking lot, while the rain poured torrents outside the glass windows of the car. I felt unaccountably alone, like I was the only human being left on the planet.

It had been a little past an hour since Jungkook had disappeared into the building that held his wife’s ashes. I wasn’t sure if i should give him a call. Had he fallen asleep in there.

I told myself I would wait another hour and if he didn’t come out, I would go check on him.

I dozed lightly against the window, exhaustion beginning to creep in. I wanted to sob at how tired i was. I could have gotten a full nights sleep, something i hadn’t had since the day I took Mina into my arms.

But then, i remembered the tiny smile that had sprung up on his face and i grinned despite myself. That was progress wasn’t it? It definitely was. I was sure that if only Jungkook could be convinced to go meet Taehyung , the alpha therapist, things could get so much better for him. I wanted to have him at least halfway to being ..... capable of handling his own daughter, before i left him. if not the worry alone would eat me alive.

I was just getting ready to perhaps climb over the console and nap in the backseat when my phone rang.

I glanced at the dashboard, frowning. it was two thirty in the morning.

Who?

I grabbed my phone from the bag and my heart leapt to my throat.

“Jin? What’s wrong? What happened to her?” I could feel my heart threatening to give out, any number of terrible possibilities running through my head in a vicious loop.

“nothing happened, Heejin , take a deep breath... She’s just running a fever. it was quite low earlier but its hitting 101 now and I’m getting a little worried. I’ve given her cold baths and kept a wet towel on her but it doesn’t seem to be coming down.”

“We’ll be there in ten minutes! “ i said quickly.

“I’m sorry, Heejinah, i don’t have any experience with babies and-”

“it’s alright...thank you for calling me oppa!” i hung up , already fumbling with the door and stepping out into the rain. i was soaked through in three second flat. What a day to wear a white t shirt.

I ran quickly, stumbling a little on the gravel pathway and hoping to God i was going the right way. I ran into the foyer, the poor security guard falling asleep over his desk glancing up at me in sympathy.

“there was a man here earlier?”

“Second floor third room.” He said casually.

I nodded, already rushing for the steps. I climbed the four flights of stair in two minutes, my heart threatening to give out. I found Jungkook in the room , kneeling on the floor and he looked at me in shock that swiftly turned to anger.

“Jungkook-” i gasped because the run up had robbed me of my breath.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He moved so quickly I could barely blink before he was right up in front of me.

“Jungkook, I... We need...” I tried to draw a breath in but before I could form the words he grabbed my arm, so hard that I whimpered in pain.

“I told you i wanted to be alone, what the fuck is your fucking problem?!” He snarled.

“Jungkook-” Before i could finish, he yanked me just a bit closer to him before shoving me out of the room with his wife’s portraits and the small ornate vase that held her ashes.

it wasn’t that hard.

He didn’t push me in a very brutal way.

In fact it was probably with lesser force than what anyone slamming a door would use.

But,

Jungkook was six feet two. He weighed a 170 pounds.

I was a hundred pounds wet and barely came up to his shoulders.

And it was just my luck that the wall opposite to the door had a large concrete and granite horse figurine placed right in front of it.

I crashed into the torso of the equine, my bones rattling inside me and I whimpered when my wrist made contact with the hard surface, bending a bit out of place.

I slid to the floor in a wet lump, trying to catch my breath and process what had just happened.

Jungkook stood frozen by the door horrified as he stared at his hands, as thought he couldn’t quite fathom what he had just done.

A sharp burning pain began in my sides and I gasped out.

“Oh, fuck.” I swore.

Jungkook moved to help me up but i was already crawling away from him, scrambling to my feet, ignoring the ache in my side.

“I’m sorry.” I said softly, holding both my hands up. “ It’s Mina...she’s running a fever. We need to go get her.”

“Heejin-ah, I’m...”

One more apology and i would officially lose it, i thought slightly hysterically.

“its my fault.” I said sharply, “ I should have probably tried calling you from the car instead of barging in like this but Jin called and i got worried...I wasn’t thinking straight so I’m sorry about that... I think we should go get her as soon as we can.”

“Did i hurt you?” He demanded , reaching out for me again and I nearly fell again trying to move away from his touch.

“No.. No I’m fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure, we don’t have to go the doctor.? “ He asked nervously, watching me carefully wipe down her body with the slightly damp wet cloth. I nodded, carefully squeezing the water out before dipping the towel in water again.

“She’ll be fine. Her fever’s come down and with babies this young, its safer to care for them at home than to take them to a hospital.” I said casually,

“I wasn’t talking about her.” He said stiltedly.

I blinked, staring up at him in surprise.

“What?”

“I think we should go to the doctor. You fell hard. ”

“Jungkook what are you even on about?” I said crossly, steadfastly ignoring the pain in my sides. It was sharp and unbearable with every breath I took in but I was too terrified to go to the hospital and have them tell me I’d cracked my rib or something.

Partly because that would be so inconvenient.

Partly because Jungkook would probably go back to being a guilt ridden shadow of himself if that happened.

“I’m going to call Yoongi hyung.”

Before I could protests some more he was already on his feet, moving to the living room.

Yoongi arrived thirty minutes later , annoyed and sleepy, dressed in a soft white t shirt and stone wash jeans.

“It’s four thirty in the morning , she better be dying Jungkook..” He rasped out near the front door and i flinched at the murderous tone to his voice.

Suddenly , i hoped desperately that my ribs had cracked.

Yoongi stepped in , staring at me . He took in the mess of quilts i sat on and sighed.

“Come here and take your shirt off.” He said gruffly.

I blinked, feeling blood rush to my face. Was he always this handsome? Hating the very unwelcome flutter of nerves, I moved to stand in front of him, grabbing the hem of my t shirt .

But the movement jolted my rib and pain sharp and lancing shot through my side. I yelped and dropped my hand again breathing harshly which only seemed to make things worse.

I swallowed and Yoongi blinked, reaching out to gently grip my elbows.

“Hey...relax ... “ He said gently.

I felt the press of a warm chest at my back.

“Let me help hyung.” Jungkook’s voice rumbled through my body, his chin brushing the top of my head and he bent over me from the back, fingers gripping the hem of my shirt and carefully lifting it up to just above the curve of my breasts.

Yoongi was staring at Jungkook over my shoulders expression unreadable.

“So you do know how to act after all.” He commented drily and I heard Jungkook inhale sharply behind me.

“Hyung...” He said sharply, and Yoongi merely rolled his eyes.

“How did this happen?” He ran slender fingers all over my skin, feeling each dent and dip carefully.

“I ..uh.. I sort of fell into a statue? It was made of concrete and quite heavy.”

His face shifted into a frown.

“Jungkook , tell me you didn’t push her.” He said sharply and I jumped a bit.

“No...he didn’t.” i said sharply and Yoongi ignored me , staring right at the alpha behind me.

“I didn’t mean to.” He said finally.

“You broke her rib, kid.”

I groaned in defeat. Behind me Jungkook stiffened.

“It was an accident.” I said sharply and Yoongi gave me an unimpressed look.

“If i had a won for every wife that told me that.”

“It was my fault and-” I shut my mouth. I did sound like the poster child for abused wife in denial.

“Relax... I’m not going to send your handsome husband to prison.” He chuckled. “ This time.” He added, giving Jungkook another glare.

“It won’t happen again. ever. “ Jungkook’s voice shook a little.

I sighed, already imagining the self flagellation that was probably going on inside the alpha’s head.

Yoongi’s voice drew me out of my head.

“Its not a break. It looks like a crack which is easier to heal. But i still want you to come in tomorrow. We’ll get it x rayed. Its going to take a couple of months to heal.”

I gaped.

“Months?”

“As long as you take it easy you’ll be fine. Now where’s the little one?”

Yoongi dropped off a small bottle of pediatric paracetamol and told me to keep an eye on her temperature before bidding us goodbye.

Once the door closed behind him, Jungkook turned to me , eyes wide and lips parted.

“If you apologize , I’m going to throw this at your face.” i said calmly, fingers closing over the neck of the ceramic vase on the table.

Jungkook blinked.

“I’m sorry. “ He said nonetheless and I sighed, pulling my hands away.

How fitting. Neither of us could act out of character.

Jungkook couldn’t stop blaming himself for everything under the sun.

I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt him in any way.

“Just go to bed , Jungkook. I’ll be fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : As always the pain is here and probably going to get worse. But Jungkook seems to be turning mildly human so let’s see if he can keep that up. Also handsome pediatric doctor Yoongi as second lead because i like to torture myself.

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hyunnows · 3 years

Text

love, [Y/N] | jjk

► PAIRING: Jungkook x reader

► CONTENT/WARNINGS: angst, mentions of fluffy memories, mc death, lots of Jungkook tears, best friends!au, mentions of unrequited love

► WORD COUNT: 2k+

► RATING: pg13

► SUMMARY: "It’s not fair that he was holding the last of you in his hands, unable to focus on anything other than the last words he’ll ever receive from you."

↳ A/N: I got this idea at 2:36 am and I don't know where it came from but oh well. This was meant to be a 300-word blurb and we ended up at 2k lol. I haven't written anything for Jungkook compared to Tae, and honestly, this maknae has been climbing my bias list so here's a semi-self-indulgent fic filled with angst and crying! I hope you enjoy it, please feel free to leave feedback and reblog! Also, STREAM BUTTER!

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Shaking with fear, Jungkook gripped your hand tightly, tears pouring out his red eyes as your patient monitor fluctuated slightly. With a quivering lip, he croaks, “C'mon [Y/N], wake up. For me? Please…”

He feels your small fingers squeeze his own gently, weakly, and hope beams across his face. But just as soon as the hope had come, it vanished, your paling fingers going stiff in his palm. The once steady beeping now a quickly accelerating sequence, the sound ringing in the brunet boy's ears as his eyes go wide and breath cuts short.

He feels the nurses pull at him, trying to drag him out the room and he thrashes against them, his nails digging into your hospital bed with all their might until his knuckles turn white and his vision blurs. Loud sobs rack through his body as he slumps in the nurses’ arms, pressing the balls of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears and the burning. His cries almost choke him, the occasional cough jerking his body harshly.

When he sees the familiar face of the doctor, he prays that the downcast gaze and frown don't mean what he thinks.

“[L/N] [Y/N],” Seokjin takes a breath, his own eyes beginning to water at the words he's about to utter, “time of death: 2 am… I'm sorry Jungkook. I did everything, I-I tried every voltage and pumped her with liquids a-and everything I could d-do—I couldn't save her. I'm so—so sorry.”

It's like his entire world has crumbled in a second. His arms and chest are suddenly heavy, his lips, throat, and face feel dry and dehydrated, and his eyes can't decide if they want to be open or closed because of the stinging sensation they feel when he tries either. Sitting on the floor in front of your room, he takes the hand Jin outstretched and wobbles inside, only to fall back down the moment he sees your dull figure.

He doesn't care that a small crowd can see him babbling incoherently as he tries to apologize to you through his sniffles and whimper, crawling to your hand and lacing his fingers through yours.

Eventually, Taehyung and Jimin pick him up and drag him out of the building you took your last breath in. Jungkook didn't try to resist, knowing he was in no shape to put up a fight or drive himself home. He needed to get out of there anyway, the smell of death only he could detect suffocating him slowly.

On his way upstairs, Taehyung holds him back, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a short stack of envelopes—maybe two or three—rubber-banded together and hands them to the younger. “Her first day in the ER, she m-made me promise to give you these if she—if she… You know…”

Hearing they were yours, he takes them gently and swiftly, immediately holding them close as if they were his lifeline. He gives Taehyung a silent, stiff nod before turning and dragging himself to his room.

He doesn't open them right away, taking his time to admire your adorable calligraphy and observing every smudge or erased pencil mark you'd left on their light material.

He's not surprised to find every letter addressed to him, because it wouldn't be the first time you two had given each other messages the old-fashioned way, and he smiled softly at the “before you read” attached to the first envelope.

If you're not Jeon Jungkook, please don't read these. If you are, know that I'm still with you, in these letters, in your heart, our memories and that I will always be here, even though I'm sorry I can't physically be here with you right now. These are letters I've written to you, but never sent. They're from the bottom of my heart and they say everything I've ever wanted to tell you.

—[Y/N]

His heart beats harder as he opens the first letter, doing his best not to tear the envelope and keep it perfectly intact for him to save.

There are two Polaroids safety-pinned to the letter, both with his face and yours smiling brightly at each other. He gently unclips them, tucking them safely into the [Y/N]-specially decorated sleeve. He breathes in deeply and unfolds the letter, immediately tearing up at your handwriting on the wilting paper.

Dear Jungkook,

I know you don't think it's cool or modern to send letters, so I won't send this.

Anyway, I want to thank you for always being there for me, my big, strong, human-shoulder-tissue. I couldn't be luckier than I am to have you as my best friend.

And I know this is going to sound cheesy, but I love you more than anyone or anything in this world. You're the diamond to my sky, the sun to my earth, and the person I would choose to spend the rest of my life with.

In other words, I'm in love with you, Jeon. I wish you were in love with me, but I'm already the happiest girl in the world being by your side every day.

Your Best Freind,

[Y/N]

His heart pounds against his ribs, because you had been in love with him. You had wanted him to be the last face you'd ever see. You were right in front of him, your heart on your sleeve for who knows how long, and he hadn't known until you were dead. His face contorted into one of pain at the reality, and he squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears, taking long, shaky breaths before opening the second letter.

This note is considerably newer than the first, its edges still white and crisp, but the deepness of the creases tells him it's at least a few months old.

Dear Jungkookie,

Lately, I've been sick—which you know because I've told you. I haven't told you about my feelings yet because I don't want to scare you or pressure you, but I'm probably going to die before I ever get to tell you these things.

Since I told you how I felt in the last letter, I'm going to try and describe why in this letter. Reason number one, your presence. You always manage to just enter a dark, tense room and make it so much brighter and more comfortable. I don't know if it’s your smile or your laugh or the way you don't care if you're embarrassed or not, but you just manage to make everyone feel comfortable in themselves.

Reason number two, your kindness. I had never seen someone run back inside, get an entire table's worth of food, and give it away before. You're always so willing to give, despite the cost. I hope you never change.

Reason number three, it's kind of odd but I fell in love with your voice. Not just the way it sounds pretty when you sing, but the way it has the power to comfort whoever you’re singing to. I’ve always been able to come to you for support and comfort.

Reason number four is you know how to turn a bad day into a good one. You can talk to anyone who’s down for five minutes and you’ll turn them into a giggling, grinning mess.

Reason number five, you’ve always made me feel loved. Even though our entire relationship has been platonic—at least on your side—you’ve always checked up on me, held me, and made sure I knew I was enough and I can’t thank you enough for that.

Number six is your passion. You always put your all into everything you do. Be it making breakfast for the boys or helping me with a project I put off until the last minute, you make sure it’s all or nothing.

Seven is that you taught me how to love unconditionally. I always believed in falling in love and finding the one, but I never knew how intense it felt to be able to give your all to someone and not expect a single thing in return—until I met you. From the way your nose scrunches when you smile, to how you tilt your head when you’re confused, I love it all. From the best thing about you to the worst, it’s all you, and I wouldn’t want you to ever change. Every scar and blemish, each pore and lash, I’ve fallen in love with all of them because they make you, you.

I know you don’t feel the same, and in complete honesty, I love you so much I don’t even care. As long as you’re happy and I’m able to spend as much of my time by your side I’m happy.

He chokes on a sob when he finishes the second letter, tears dampening the card stock as he shivers. His heart clenches harder as he folds it back up, giving both pictures a once over before pinning them back on the letter.

Opening up the last envelope, a cry racks through his body, and he’s ugly crying now. The necklace he’d given you perfectly washi-taped against the letter. He pulls it off, tucking it tightly into his palm, and holds his breath. This time, the letter is a small, short piece of paper folded in half once.

He almost can’t read your small, dainty handwriting through his bubbling tears, but manages.

Hi Jungkook. Did you see the necklace?

It’s the one you bought me for my fifteenth birthday, that I told you I had lost. For a while, I had, and I remember I was too scared to tell you, but you noticed before I could anyway. I was so relieved you weren’t mad at me because I didn’t know what I would do if you were. I still don’t.

Anyway, the point of this short, last letter is to tell you how I want you to remember me. I don’t want you guys to think of me as your sickly friend who died when you were in your twenties… but I want you to remember the good memories we made together. I want you to remember the day we met, when I accidentally broke your bike and when we were both grounded for four months for sneaking out of our houses for our first party. I want you to remember how we got sick together because you couldn’t let me walk home alone in the rain, but you couldn’t drive and we both forgot jackets and umbrellas. I want you to remember the day you forgave me for losing the most precious thing anyone has ever given me, because that’s the day I fell in love with you.

This paper’s running out of space so I’m going to wrap this up. I want you to remember everything good about our time together, and not what ended it. Don’t think about how I’m gone, because I’m still with you, after death. These letters, the photos, and this necklace are what I’m leaving behind for you to keep. Don’t cry when you think of me, don’t think of the fact that we’ve been making our last memories, just don’t forget me.

Jungkook clutches the necklace tighter, afraid to drop it. Not only had he lost you, but he’d also missed out on the opportunity to be with you because he’d been too scared to ask you out while you were alive. He’d been in love with you since you two were eleven, tried to confess to you when you were fifteen, and lost you at twenty-three.

It’s not fair, he decides, it’s not fair that your love never got a real chance and it never would. It’s not fair that all these years you thought your feelings were one-sided when he reciprocated them ten-fold. It’s not fair that he was holding the last of you in his hands, unable to focus on anything other than the last words he’ll ever receive from you.

He sucks in a deep breath, barely croaking out your sign-off, “Love, [Y/N].”

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itstheimpossibledream · 3 years

Text

Only A Play-Part 2

Word Count:3053

Pairing : AU Henry & FemBlack! Reader

Warning:Angst, soon to come Smut

Summary: Y/n and Henry still trying to navigate their mutual attraction but, their job is making it harder to deny.The next chapter is already written, there’s sex in it I swear.

"So today I want you guys to focus on working with Dana" Steve began

"She's our resident intimacy coordinator, I've already gone over the scene with her and she's going to make sure it goes over as smooth as possible. We're going to get her assistance a couple times during this process but today we're going to empty out the studio so have fun, play and get to know eachother. Today is just a day for you two to find some comfortable physicality with eachother." Stephen winks at you and then begins ushering tech and the few ensemble members out of the room. Friend or not, anyone attracted to men could not deny that Mr. Cavill was absolutley gorgeous, as wasted as it may be. In all honesty you hadn't spoken much aside from that snowy day outside the studio. He did begin to bring coffee and Kal to rehearsals and you tended to find the snuggly, bear of a dog always next to you when you were waiting for a cue but, it wasn't as though the two of you had had a heart-to-heart and resolved any of these unspoken differences. And as far as the scene was concerned your heart was doing backflips unable to tell which action would come more naturally, to kiss him or to hit him.

"So I'm seeing a lot of passion here! O !Please remove your shoes for today's lesson." Dana cuts in breaking the silence. Both of you look down at the wood paneled floor. Now was the time where you really had to work, you think to yourself while slowly slipping out of your shoes.

“Unfortunately Dana, “ Henry begins, immediately charming the brakes off of her.

“ At this point of the play I believe her character is quite conflicted, as a woman she obviously wants to give in to him but, at the same time she knows she'll be letting down her family and he will too, they'll live a life with no family outside of the one they create for themsevles. It's quite powerful.But, a tough emotional point to bring oneself to."

"That may be how Christopher sees it -" you snap referring to his character. You are suddenly aware that you sound way more upset then you had intended to. "She doesn't want have sex with him because if she does she's giving up more than him,she always has.That's the whole story of their relationship. " you say, allowing your words to be the dam between the flood of frustration you want to direct his way.

"So as you said we both have a lot of emotions here, we need to work on honing them into something that could potentially work itself into this explosion of passion okay?" Dana jumped excitedly. She looks exactly like what you would have expected from an intimacy coordinator.She wore a long moo-moo like dress and chunky amber jewelry.She smelled of a ton of weed, not as though you were really complaining but, it all added to the aesthetic that had washed into the room on her heels as she had entered.

"I want to begin with an exercise- Mr.Cavill I know you've done scenes like this before so please work with me if I touch on some things you've already heard." she says leaning over and squeezing his forearm while winking. Great even the sex scene coordinator thought he was hot.

" I'm going to give you the space to choose but I want you both to just slowly go through the scene and when you hit a line that feels acceptable you remove an item of clothing. On stage you've both agreed to full nudity but today I just want to push you to do what feels comfortable!" Quietly you both moved to the opposite ends of the room, hitting your marks to begin the scene. You said your first few lines focusing on washing the dishes, the studio didn't have running water so it ended up being more like mime washing dishes. You were so much more professional than you were proving to be in this moment but, the second Henry removed his shirt you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. On his first line?Really? That was so like him ,so pompous. And even more upsetting how ridiculously attractive he was. God was his body sculpted from marble? Nothing but pure muscle rippling evenly, he seemed somehow tanned, despite the blistering New York winter. You focused hitting your next line perfectly ,completely unphased by his topless body.With the following delivery you shrug out of your jacket, revealing your tank top. Thank christ you had expected to have a hook-up with a bartender after today's rehearsal. You weren't in full lingerie but, you were definitely in a matching set. A matching set that happened to make your ass look great. You held that in your back pocket, knowing you had every right to parade about, naked in the same room as someone who was a shoe-in to be named 'World's Sexiest Man'. You went for it, pulling off your tank top with your next line. This is when your blocking got physical. You had run this scene before but, running it scantily clad was an entirely different matter. You were supposed to straddle him. That seemed simple enough. You stood before him, gingerly sliding one knee up onto the couch and then swinging another to the other side of him.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, low and slow. You hated how during the scenes he actually had moments of completely brilliant acting where you could see an amazing talent. Then, you felt his hand on your knee. It was absurdly large and warm, so warm. You froze. You didn't want to do it but, you froze.Your eyes flitted all over the room, desperately looking for a way out , to end the scene. You feel his hand move up your thigh, it's the blocking, he's just doing his job, you remind yourself. But, something in you makes you afraid of his touch. You look into his eyes and you can tell he's noticed you shrinking under his touch. He clears his throat and drops character.Changing his intention toward Dana.

"I'm sorry can we start over? I completely forgot my line." he smiled at her.

"Sure! That was really great I think just focus a bit more on your intention. It's funny I think you guys had more sexual tension at the start of the rehearsal than at the top of the scene!" she laughed to herself. "Okay, let's take a step back, relax , stand up ! Stand up!" she says, jumping to her feet. The two of you peeled yourself apart from each other and you found yourself looking down at your perfectly perky breasts feeling more insignificant than ever. You could feel your face heating up by his move to take the blame for the scene. It was much more gentlemanly than you were expecting from him.

"How about we take a break and come back in twenty? She suggested after a few warm-ups of jumping around and saying self -assuring mantras out-loud. After half a bottle of water, redressing, boring stretches and pretending to avoid eye-contact with Henry your rehearsal was finally up.

“ Oookay guys good stuff. Goooood stuff ! So for the weekend tomorrow I know Stephen had you signed up for a few meet and greets and publicity shoots but, I actually think that if you guys could set aside the time that you do spend together to get physically comfortable it could do a lot for your onstage comfortability. Hand holding, general petting or stroking, you may even want to try a light sitting on the lap, just anything really to get you more used to one another. This relationship needs to seem as effortless and fluid as possible.” She smiled “ also note that my number is free for 24/7 communication so if something comes up for you emotionally in this work feel free to get in contact with me, even if it's just to chat my door is always open!" she beams,collecting her water bottle and other assorted scripts she was reading through at the beginning of the rehearsal.

Stephen reenters and, he and Dana go to the corner of the room to talk.

You work your back pack onto your shoulder and begin to head for the door.

"Wait up!" Henry calls out from behind you. You whirl around and almost bump into him. His sweatshirt is baggy but unzipped enough that you can see the small tufts of hair playing at the tops of his chest, his baseball cap pulled way down over his forehead. Those blue eyes shined bright from the shade under that baseball cap.

"What are your plans for tonight ?" he asked, slightly exaggerating his breathing from the light jog across the room. You searched the room awkwardly,looking for an out. What is it with him? Why did he think, especially after the last time the two of you had spent alone together, that you would ever want to be included in his plans for the night.

"Perfect Idea!" Stephen exclaims from across the room. "You guys use tonight to bond as much as possible before tomorrow afternoon's interview session yeah?"

"Uhhhh sure ." You agree, not wanting to seem like the town buzz-kill. You turn shrugging towards Henry. He smiles, seeming almost relieved that you agreed without putting up a fight, as Steve moves to rejoin Dana in the back

"So uhhh my place or yours?" he asks in a half hearted joke.

"Uhhh" you definitely don't want him at your place, where there is laundry strewn all over the apartment .

"I mean I have to feed my dog and run some errands anyway so my apartment would be ideal."

"O great! Okay yeah , let's do that then." you pushed on the door and headed for the elevator, the ride down to the lobby of the rehearsal studios was entirely silent, filled with awkward shuffling and avoided eye contact. Only punctuated by a short uber black ride in silence to an apartment on the upper east side. Ofcourse he lived on the upper east side.The doorman was polite as you followed behind him, clearly him bringing strange women up to his apartment was not entirely unheard of. Once in the room, you asked where to sit your bag down, your afternoon ritual usually included a trip to the gym, that is what had become your me -time since college. He motioned you to his guest room, in which you were shocked,contained a shower, granted the entire tiny room was a shower but, being a guest in New York with your own bathroom was definitely not an everyday thing. Especially, for a little black girl from the south.

"Is it okay if I shower before we grab dinner?" you ask.

"Oh! You wanted to grab dinner?I was just going to order chinese."

"That's fine! " you ungracefully exclaimed from the other room.Shit. Hopefully he didn't think you really meant grab dinner like on a date.

"Do you have a special order?"he asked, appearing in the doorway. You turned around slightly alarmed that his voice had gotten that much closer.

"I love everything!" you smile, he looked down at the floor nervously. "but shrimp lomein is my favorite." you say unzipping your jacket and placing it on the bed, your bra was working overtime holding you up and you made a mental note to order another one exactly like it. He cleared his throat and there was a second of silence. You could feel his eyes slowly darting around the room trying not to look at your chest. As actors, especially ones who have to do nude scenes together you didn't think it would be a big deal to him that you were getting ready to shower. You had mentioned on the elevator earlier that you had wanted a shower. Taking off your jacket just seemed like the right next step, nothing to feel weird over.

"Sounds Good!" he exclaims, finally showing you his full smile, for the first time since the rehearsal process had started. God he was a sight, he had removed his hat and you noticed how perfectly his hair curled onto his forhead.It was adhered by sweat but, not the weird homecoming- football helmet sweat, you get from your highschool crush. This was a grown-man glistening infront of you. It sounded ridiculous, the situation itself was ridiculous,why was he even sweating ?

"Sorry-I uh- I didn't know you were showering right now. We can talk about it later if you-"

"It's fine" you say, stepping in and laying a hand on his forearm.His eyes shot down to your hand then immediately back to your eyes, sure to avoid seeming like he was staring at your breasts. He clears his throat again and you can smell the faint cologne on him as you watch his adams apple bob. The air in the room changes and you feel him shift away from you. You mumble a thanks for the dinner as you hear him close the door between you.

Your shower was perfectly steamy and warm, much unlike your brooklyn apartment that had charm and character but, a much worse hot water heater. As you washed away the dirt from the day you tried not to think of Henry, of what he must think of you for absolutely chewing him out just a few short weeks ago. He seemed to have gotten over it but, at the same time perhaps he was just trying to be the better person. As much as you hated to admit it he had completely accepted your scathing critique and was now treating you like the highest paying guest at a five-star resort. You turned down the hot water, basking in the last bit of steam and enjoying the first true silence of your day. Reaching an arm up, you grab a towel, wrapping it around your body. You stretched out for another towel that you had laid across the sink, somehow your legs completely slipped from under you and you crashed to the floor,grabbing the sink for leverage. Really all you did was knock over some toiletries that you had put on the sink earlier and you could feel your cheeks heating up. It was weird to be embarrassed in a room by yourself but, you knew he must've heard something. You sat on the floor, allowing your chin to rest on the top of your knees. You desperately needed a moment to breathe. Life had been so stressful lately, and you possibly had let off a bit too much steam on him. He was actually a nice guy, sure the accessible information on him didn't make him look amazing but when it came down to it once you explained how you felt about him he had worked so hard to seem normal and accessible. For whatever reason he seemed to respect your opinion as an artist. The knock at the door kept you from becoming completely lost in your thoughts. It knocked again and you could hear his feet shuffle on the hard wood outside of the door, the nails of the large dog clicking the floor next to him.

"You okay in there?" It seemed earnest enough.

"Yeah!" you called back "My mind has really been somewhere else lately, I just umm lost my footing- that's all."

"Okay well let me know if you need anything." It was cheery but helpful. Once you heard him close the door to your room you got up and got dressed as quickly as you could, fumbling to get sweatpants on without accident. Today was definitely not your most agile day. You finally let your hair down and put on just the smallest amount of mascara to make your eyes pop.It was an effortlessly hot look that had worked for you for years, especially in college. You closed the door behind you and gently padded your way to the kitchen. The apartment was cozy, Kal was curled up on a rug in the corner of the room while Henry portioned the food onto pristine white plates. You noticed the baseball cap was back on and at least thanked god for giving you that small assistance in removing the temptation to touch him by running your fingers through his hair.

"So you order takeout but refuse to eat it out of the container?"you asked jokingly as he whirled around from the counter.That smile appeared on his face again and you knew you were putty in his hands,The way he filled out his navy blue t-shirt was unbelievable.

"It's less calories this way." he winked. Thank god he had a sense of humor.You returned his smile now sitting in the chair closest to the kitchen. The conversation veered from workout routines, to body image stress as a performer and then back to work. You found yourself sucking a noodle wishing he'd bring up something else. You absolutely could not do a night of niceties and small talk at this point in your life but, you also weren't ballsy enough to walk right up to him and tell him you wanted him.

"Y/N?"he asked

"Yeah?" you jumped being pulled once again from you daydream

"Do you wanna run lines or watch tv or something?"he asked shyly

"Yeah I mean -we can run lines if you want I just thought we were supposed to bond by talking or something." you laughed trying to take the edge off the awkwardness of the scenario.

"Well what do you want to talk about ?' he asked, leaning back in his seat, baseball cap over his eyebrows.His jawline was so sharp it could cut ice, it dawned on you that he was actually much too goodlooking for his own good.

You picked up a fortune cookie at the center of the table and tossed it to him.

"Read me your fortune."you smiled seductively. He raised his eyebrows at you but, something must have convinced him because he simply shook his head and said.

"Okay."

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sithsecrets · 3 years

Text

five intimate moments | din djarin x reader

A chronicle of five moments that shaped the Mandalorian’s relationship with his one and only crew member.

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3.5 k words

Mentions: illness, hallucinations induced by a high fever, minor injury to the reader character, NO SMUT!

(This is my first attempt at a Mando fic so please have mercy!!!)

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When the Mandalorian says he wants to hire you as his first and only crew member, you’re taken aback to say the least. Your first impulse is to laugh and tell him that his joke is very funny, because what else could an offer like that be from a man like him? He’s entirely self-sufficient from the look of things, and it’s not like he doesn’t have the credits to buy services from others when he needs them. But one long look into the darkness of that visor tells you at once that what Mando’s said is no jest, tells you that he’s serious.

He tells you that he’ll cut you in ten percent if you help him out a little bit. It’s standard stuff, really, just ship repairs, navigation, and taking care of the baby. You’ve learned a lot under Peli over the last several years, you’ve definitely sat in the pilot’s chair a time or two, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a soft spot for Mando’s weird little baby— so why not? Working for him would get you off this planet, and it would be a change of pace for sure.

Doubt sets in the night before you’re set to go off with the Mandalorian, though Peli waves your feelings off pretty readily.

“You’re being stupid,” she tells you bluntly. “He’s a Mandalorian. Just do as you’re told, help him with the kid, and let him keep to himself if he wants to. Everything’ll be fine.”

Peli’s words are of some comfort, though anxiety is still fluttering in your gut the next morning. You say your goodbyes to your mentor and the droids, and then you’re flying off in the Razor Crest on the way to somewhere.

The first day is strange as you try to pick your way around your new home, and you spend much of your time feeling as though you’re snooping around in someone else’s space. The Mandalorian is just as quiet as you thought he’d be, clanging around in his armor doing this and that while you try to make yourself busy. You run out of tasks quickly, however, and it makes you skin itch to sit idle like this.

You watch for nearly an hour as Mando fiddles with the mechanics in one of his arm guards, cursing under his breath through the modulator as he picks at this and that. You think you know what the problem is, but you’re not sure you’re brave enough to tell him that. Finally, though, you can’t let him struggle anymore.

“Let me see,” you declare, cringing as you realize your tone was more commanding than you’d meant for it to be. But Mando says nothing to this, letting you take hold of his arm without uttering so much as a sound. Just as you thought, there’s an issue farther up the guard, one he’d overlooked. A little soldering here, a change of wires there, and then the thing’s good as new again.

“Thank you,” the Mandalorian says, and you can feel his eyes on you through the visor.

“It’s what you hired me for.” You laugh nervously then, suddenly shy under the attention. “Gotta show you I’m not completely useless somehow, right?”

The Mandalorian stands, headed for the ladder on the other side of the room.

“Don’t call yourself useless.”

This is said without so much as a glance over his shoulder, and you find yourself rushing to explain for no apparent reason.

“I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did.” The Mandalorian pauses with one foot on the first rung, finally turning to look at you now. “You’re not useless.”

The Razor Crest’s interior, in the grand tradition of spaces owned and maintained by single men, is in desperate need of a tune-up. There’s a bit of clutter here and there, and the walls and surfaces and well, everything else could do with a good scrubbing. It’s a big project to say the least, but you think you can tackle it given enough time and supplies.

The perfect window for such an undertaking opens up just a few days after the idea strikes you. Mando’s got another assignment, and it’s brought you to a relatively safe planet nearer to the Outer Core. He’ll be gone a few days, or so he says, and you know already that the market in town will be the perfect place to get what you need.

You set about your task the same day the Mandalorian leaves to set about his, the baby secured to your chest in a makeshift sling. It’s a good thing you brought him, too, because his charm helps you score several bargains along the way.

Organizing everything takes almost a whole day by itself, but after that, the cleaning is easy. You scrub and dust and mop until everything sparkles, and then it’s time to do laundry and see if you can make some functioning garments out of the scraps you find in Mando’s small closet. The clothes he wears aren’t rags by any means, but a little patching here and mending there gives him two more shirts and another pair of pants to work with.

It takes two more days for Mando to come home after you’re done, and he notes the changes immediately. He stops dead in the little hall between the main hull and the place where he keeps his carbonite-contained quarries, looking to the left and then to the right very slowly. You can’t tell if he likes what you’ve done at first, his expression obscured by that damn helmet like it always is.

“I didn’t touch your weapons,” you declare, holding up your hands as if to ward off whatever anger Mando’s about to level at you. But he doesn’t get upset, doesn’t cuss or ask you what the hell your were thinking, so you think it’s safe to go on.

“I scrubbed the whole interior, organized some of the stuff you had laying around, and made myself a better place to sleep.”

You gesture to the pallet you’ve made for yourself on the floor, proud of how you’ve managed to tuck it out of the way. That was the problem with your old spot— Mando had to step around you a lot, and it was becoming impractical. This new space comfortable, too, plush thanks to some cushions and blankets you managed to score in the market. You even have pillows now, but this is something you delight in privately.

The Mandalorian stands silently before you, and you prattle on, showing him this and that.

“I got the baby a couple of outfits to wear, one for colder weather and one for warmer weather. I mended some of your old clothes and washed everything that was here, so that’s done.” You shut the door to the little wardrobe and go to Mando’s bunk, pushing the button so he can see inside. “The woman that sells upholstered goods in the market really liked the Child, so she gave me a great deal. I managed to get you a decent mattress, or something close to it, and a couple of new pillows. She fixed up your old quilt for me too, so I hope it’s warmer now…”

You trail off, words escaping you under the intensity of Mando’s gaze. He’s staring you down properly now, the visor trained right on your face.

“Why did you do all of this?” he asks, gesturing to his bunk, the wardrobe. The thought crosses your mind that perhaps you should have asked before you messed with his things, his sleeping space, and a wave of something not unlike embarrassment sweeps over you.

“I— Mando, I’m sorry, I should have—”

But the Mandalorian still isn’t cross, cutting you off before you can finish apologizing. “Don’t apologize for anything. This is… This is…” He stares at his bed for a long moment, searching for his words. “Thank you.”

Something about the way he says it makes your stomach flutter, though you can’t decide if that’s good or bad.

The cough is innocuous enough when it starts, just a tickle in the back of your throat that comes on one afternoon. You brush it off as allergies, even telling Mando you’re fine when he asks about it that night.

Two days later, you’re bedridden.

Mando insists you’re absolutely burning up even as you shiver and shake beneath a virtual mountain of blankets, so cold that you think you’ll never be warm again. He forces you to sip on broth and water, though it all settles like sludge in your stomach. It must be bad, whatever you have— you must look bad— because the Mandalorian’s façade is slipping. He’s having full-blown conversations with the baby now, asking the little green infant if he thinks it’s a good idea to cut this hunt short, if he thinks you can be left alone for even just a few hours while he collects the last quarry. And though your body is aching, though you can practically feel the fever cooking your brain at this point, you tell him to finish the job. He made an agreement, and you know it’ll kill Mando not to honor it— you’ll be fine by yourself.

The two of you touch down on some planet in the Outer Rim, and then Mando’s practically running out of the ship. He promises to be back within the day, the sincerity in his voice managing to pierce the haze clouding your mind, and the ache in your bones makes you hope he means it.

Sometime later, you begin to hear a voice coming from the ‘fresher, one that taunts and teases you. It speaks nonsense on and off, but the clearer messages are frightening nonetheless. The voice says that Mando’s not coming back, that he’s left you here forever. Why else would he have taken the baby, hm? He doesn’t care for you, he’s not going to help you.

“Yes, he is,” you retort weakly, becoming more and more upset with each passing hour as this faceless thing continues to fill your head with words and threats. Somewhere in the very back of your fever-addled brain, you know that none of this is real, that all of this is a fever dream. But still, you weep and twist in your bed, scared that the Mandalorian really has abandoned you.

True to his word, though, Mando’s back in record time. You cry out for him the minute you hear footsteps inside the ship, and even the quarry grows quiet at the sound of your voice. Things are hazy after that, but you know that Mando comes to you after just a few minutes, promising over and over again that you’ll be better soon.

You and the Mandalorian and the baby fly somewhere together, this much you know, and Mando comes to sit on the floor with you once the Crest is in hyperspace.

“We’ll be there soon,” he tells you, voice tense and nervous through the modulator. He shushes you when you become upset all over again, emotions stirred by more taunting from the voice in the ‘fresher.

“Make it stop,” you cry, so very weak, “please make it stop. It’s so mean, Mando.”

“Hey, hey,” the Mandalorian cuts, pressing a gloved hand to your forehead. “Nothing can hurt you while I’m here, I won’t let it. I’ll stay right here until we get you to a doctor, I promise.”

And that’s enough to calm you for a few hours, it’s enough to help you fall asleep. You only wake again when you feel arms around your body, when the plushness of your mattress is no longer underneath you.

“Come on,” Mando says, talking to himself as much as he’s talking to you. “The medic will fix this. He’ll fix this, and everything will be fine.”

The medic the Mandalorian takes you to does fix this, but things are touch and go for a few hours there. Your fever breaks in just a couple of hours, thank the Maker, but you’re still very weak from being so sick for so long. You spend two days confined to a medbay bed before you’re deemed well enough to be discharged, and even then, it takes about a week before you’re truly feeling like yourself again.

It’s not until much later that you realize Mando never left your bedside once, and not for the first time do you find yourself wondering what something like that means coming from a man like him.

Mando’s been gone nearly two weeks, and the baby’s beginning to lose it just the slightest bit. He doesn’t talk, of course, not in a way you can understand, but you know he misses his father. If the Child isn’t in a sour mood, he cries, and you’ve caught him playing in Mando’s clothes more than once. It’s stressful, taking care of the baby when he’s like this, but you understand how he feels. You feel strange and almost embarrassed to admit it, but you miss the Mandalorian too. The rational part of you knows it would be best to chalk it up to proximity, but you know in your heart that it’s a little more than that. But just because you know this doesn’t mean you accept it, and you tamp down the feeling at every turn, focusing instead on getting the Child through this rough period.

At the sixteen-day mark, the baby refuses to sleep in his pram entirely, insisting instead that Mando’s bunk will do much better. And you would be fine with that, all things considered, if he wasn’t insistent that you climb in there with him as well.

“Bug, I know you want Mando to come home, and I know you like sleeping with me when he’s not here, but I’m not getting in there with you.”

The baby makes a most discontent noise, pulling on your fingers so hard that he tumbles back onto Mando’s mattress when he lets go. You tell him once again that you won’t be invading his father’s space like that, and then the Child is crying, sobbing so hard his little shoulders shake beneath his baggy outfit. I’m too tired for this, you think to yourself, and you finally give the baby what he wants.

“Alright, alright,” you acquiesce, climbing up into the bunk with a sigh. “But we’re not telling him about this.”

The Child is soothed at once, snuggling down beside you in Mando’s blankets as if he was never upset in the first place. You lie beside him in the dark, eyes already growing heavy as you breathe in the scent of the covers around you, the scent of the pillow beneath your head. All at once, you realize that this is what Mando probably smells like under all the armor and the weapons. Something about that only serves to make this whole thing feel even more like a violation, but you force that thought out of your mind.

At some point, you do drift off, only the be woken hours later by the feeling of a hand on your ankle. And there the Mandalorian is, standing before you in the flesh (and beskar) after all those days away.

“You’re in my bed,” he says to you, though there’s no edge to the words. It’s a simple statement of fact, a plain observation.

“We missed you,” is all you have to say in explanation, though it takes you about three seconds too long to realize which pronoun you chose to throw out in the front there. Now properly awake, you go to cover the mistake, but Mando cuts you off as he is so wont to do.

“I missed you too,” he says slowly, voice dropping almost to a whisper. “Both of you.”

You realize that Nevarro may not be as safe as you thought about three seconds after a man with a vibroblade demands you hand over all the credits you have. You try to flee on impulse, your mind focused on protecting the baby—

Right up until the man catches your shirt, using the natural momentum of the action to propel you right into his clenched fist. Searing hot pain blooms behind your eye, spreading across the entire side of your face and into your nose. You’re completely stunned, unable to so much as form a coherent thought as your attacker moves to hit you again.

It’s like everything happens in slow-motion after that. One minute, your assailant is bearing down on you with murder in his eyes— the next, he’s grimacing, falling to the ground with thud. Two voices urge you to follow them now, and there are hands on your shoulders, your back. You’re so disoriented that it takes you a moment to realize that there are two fucking Mandalorians in your face, but when you do, the urge to fight back leaves you immediately.

Neither Mando is your Mandalorian, but you follow them anyway. They usher you into a tunnel system beneath the city, telling you to turn this way and that, and you do as they say without question. For some reason, they know you— they know your name, and they certainly know the baby because they ask about him the moment the lot of you are concealed. About a thousand questions swim around in your mind as you follow the Mandalorians deeper and deeper into the tunnels, but you aren’t given a chance to ask a single one.

Finally, you’re allowed to stop in a smith of some sort, coming to stand before a Mandalorian woman sheathed in maroon and gold. She regards you for a long moment, pausing over her work to take in the sight of your face, the way you clutch the baby protectively against your chest.

“Fetch him,” is all that she says, speaking to one of your saviors, and they turn and leave without a word.

A period of time elapses before you hear movement in the hall, though you can’t be sure how long. What you are sure of, though, is that you hear Mando’s voice drawing near, and the wave of relief that washes over you is almost overwhelming. You’re safe here, of course— anyone would be, surrounded by this many Mandalorians— but… but they’re not him.

“What happened?”

It’s the first thing Mando says to you, picking up the pace once he lays eyes on your injuries. You’re taken aback by how he crowds you, how he lets his gloved hands linger on your cheek.

“She was attacked by a chakaar,” says the Armorer, speaking from workspace. “He will not be bothering anyone again, though.”

Mando is satisfied by this, thanking his brothers and sisters for protecting you and his child. You thank them as well, though it’s hard to tell if the sentiment lands with the Mandalorians. The Armorer is the only one who responds at all, saying, “You are our brother’s cyar’ika,” she explains, confusing you with a word you don’t recognize, “we as his brothers and sisters must protect you. This is the Way.”

“The is the Way,” intones the group, and then you’re being ushered from the room, tucked under Mando— your Mando’s— arm.

The walk back to the ship is a quiet one, though the Child coos happily. He seems largely unaffected by all of this, even dozing off in his pram as though he’s had an uneventful afternoon. You’re glad he’s asleep, knowing it’ll give you and Mando some time to talk. You want to ask him about what the Armorer said, what that word meant. Mando’s cyar… cyar’ika? Is that what she’d called you?

But you don’t get the chance to speak a word, because Mando crushes you against him the moment you get the baby settled. His arms are strong around your back, the sensation of being held by him effectively knocking the air from your lungs. When he finally lets you go, every question you had stuffed in your mind is gone.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” the Mandalorian says to you, sounding more distraught than you ever thought possible. You shake your head at that— how could he possibly have known?

“I’m fine, Mando,” you press. “Don’t worry about my face, it’s—”

“I should have been there.”

The both of you just look at one another after that, and the Mandalorian doesn’t flinch away when you lay your hand on the side of his helmet. You know at once that everything is different now, but you need to hear it just to be sure.

“That woman—”

“The Armorer,” Mando corrects.

“The Armorer,” you begin again, speaking slowly and deliberately. “What did she mean when she said what she said about me? What is a cyar… cyar’ika?”

Mando’s hand comes up, and his glove is cool on your uninjured cheek.

“’Beloved,’” he says softly, “’cyar’ika’ means ‘beloved.’”

You think your heart’s going to beat right out of your chest, but you force yourself not to be calm.

“If you’re going to call me your cyar’ika,” you whisper, afraid you’ll shout if you don’t, “then what should I call you?”

“Din. You can call me Din.”

#my writing #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #cw: illness #tw: illness #cw: hallucinations #tw: hallucinations

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curioussubjects · 4 years

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come be a season 12 truther with me; or what if dean and cas got together offscreen

Originally, I wrote this post to celebrate “Galaxy Brain” airing as Berens & Glynn gave us “The Future.” It’s been a while since that episode aired, and some things have changed about this meta. As such, there are multiple versions of this post floating around, so make sure to go back to the source for the most up to date version. For all intents and purposes, this post functions as a meta manifesto not unlike shipping manifestos from days of LJ past. In keeping with that tradition, this post is a close reading of Dabb Era Destiel in which I argue that by using narrative gaps, queer coding, and romance tropes, Dean and Cas are shown to be in an established relationship. Although beyond the scope of this post, it’s worth pointing out that keeping Destiel mostly off screen was a way for the creatives to bypass network censorship while still remaining true to the characters.

This post is divided into three sections. Section I focuses on giving an overview of why earlier seasons of Supernatural aren’t as compelling as season 12 as a turning point for Dean and Cas’s relationship. That said, special consideration is given to 09.06 “Heaven Can’t Wait” as a potential rest stop in our journey due to it’s significantly placed narrative gap as well as themes in the episode. However, this post isn’t going to examine season 9 trutherism in depth, though it does coexist with and allow for it. Section II analyses season 12 and proposes a timeline and justification for the shifting Destiel dynamic. Finally, Section III will offer an analysis of how Dean and Cas’s relationship has changed dramatically from previous seasons in a way that is most like the shift from a “will they or won’t they” pairing to an established one.

Before I move to Section I, I’d like to note something this post takes for granted: Dean and Cas are the main romantic subplot of Supernatural, and, in fact, their relationship is elevated to main plot for both characters in season 15. This post won’t argue about the canonicity of Dean and Cas’s feelings for each other, therefore, and so won’t spend time looking at many Destiel defining moments. I’d also like to make clear that this post also takes for granted that Destiel is being intentionally developed by the writers starting with Carver’s Era, and more so in Dabb’s.

I. Why Seasons 4 through 11 May Not be It

The tl;dr. here is that while there are many moments throughout these seasons that Dean and Cas could potentially get together, none of those moments are ideal for a bunch of reasons that can be summed up as really bad timing. I also think the narrative is actively pushing them towards a moment that works. We get plenty of stepping stones, especially once we hit seasons 8 through 11 (and 11 most of all).

Seasons 4 & 5:

I know there’s been a lot of get together fics over the years set in this time period, but I just don’t see it. Do I see them being intrigued and drawn to each other? Yes. Do I think either Cas or Dean would act on it? Nope. I’m not arguing anything re: Dean’s feelings, but with everything going at the time I find it hard to believe he’d pursue anything with his angel friend. Most importantly here, though, is that during this time Cas was still very alien and other. There was too much angel in him, and while he obviously came to care about Dean (and Sam) very much, I just can’t see him navigating the realm of human relationships. That said, seeing human!Cas in “The End” is the first we see of potential developments for how Cas could behave without his angelness interfering. Being human changes Cas a lot, beyond even his experience existing among humans, though that of course matters too. This development will be important later /wink.

Seasons 6 & 7:

Before anything else let me just recognize that if we could see some sexual tension in seasons 4 & 5, these two seasons come with our first taste of romantic tension. The pining! Also note the difference between season 4 Cas and season 6 Cas in terms of behaviour. He is much less the angel we saw in that barn in “Lazarus Rising.” In season 6, we have a Cas making misguided decisions guided entirely by his emotions – namely, not wanting to involve Dean with the war in heaven – which is peak human, honestly. Put a pin on how sad Dean is in both seasons with Cas’s absence. Finally, put a pin on this being our first moment of Cas doing things on his own to spare Dean and it not ending well (soulless!Sam, Cas “dying” after Leviathan) because this is *the* hurdle in their relationship (along with Dean’s lashing out and self-worth issues). With all this said, the marked distance between Dean and Cas in these seasons negates the possibility of them entering into any kind of relationship. Much like seasons 4 and 5, there’s too much going on.

Season 8:

Ah, yes, the summer of purgatory. If you thought we had pining before…! I think we’re all very clear on season 8 being a turning point for the show, not only because new showrunner, but we also get the bunker. TFW now has an HQ, which pretty soon becomes home. Yes, Baby will always be home, but the bunker becomes the *unmovable* safe haven that Baby couldn’t be. The bunker is a place to coalesce, and for all the amazing things Baby is, she is not that. The acquisition of the bunker marks a shift in the psychology of the show: with the stable home space we can start to imagine domesticity, a place to come home to, the stuff of ordinary living. Most of all, the bunker is emblematic of security, of safety –keep this in mind, as we go forward.

This season also continues to see Cas go down the path of independently solving his problems instead of asking for help from Sam and Dean (his family in a way heaven never was) – note that the better together issue is at play in different ways with Sam and Dean also, but I digress. I also want to point out disastrous instance #2 of Cas’s insistence on figuring it out on his own: he loses his grace, and the angels fall. As for Dean, season 8’s focus for him has much to do with Sam, and them coming face to face with their issues with codependency, which hit catastrophic levels with the gates of hell and Gadreel plots.

So despite all the deliciously angsty get together purgatory fics and spec, there’s too much distance between Dean and Cas on Cas’s part due to his guilt over betraying the Winchesters in s6 plus slaughtering angels plus unleashing Leviathan. We do see Dean being more emotionally open with Cas and continue to voicing his wish that Cas would just stay with him and Sam, and let them help. It’s clear as day how much Dean cares. The timing is still bad, though.

Before moving on to next season, let’s take a moment to appreciate that this is the season Dean admits being kinda done with one night stands because “always with the adios.” Remember the bunker as a sign of stability? Yeah. I wouldn’t say Dean is craving a relationship, exactly, but I think we can see that he does want something more (ahem also I’m nodding to Cas refusing to stay put just cause).

Seasons 9 & 10:

The most important thing to happen between this two seasons is Cas’s stint as a human for an extended period of time. There’s been plenty of spec and meta written over the years about the effects of being human on Cas’s grace (a proto-soul now maybe?). What we can say for sure, regardless, is that Cas is much more humanized once he becomes an angel again. The understanding he gets from being human doesn’t go away once he regains his angel powers. You’ll notice that while we still see some of season 4’s characterization, Cas is not the same as he was – he is alien to angels now and is more intelligible to humans. Additionally, in an interesting reversal from previous seasons, we now get to see the depth of Cas’s feelings for Dean (thanks, Metatron) as well as seeing him be more open emotionally, while Dean does most of the pushing away (first because of Gadreel, then because of the Mark of Cain). In short, the timing is still bad as Dean and Cas are largely kept apart both physically and emotionally.

9.06 Heaven Can’t Wait

This episode is my white whale, friends. While I’ve come to fully subscribe to the idea that something did happen between Dean and Cas during the fanfic gap, I don’t actually think it’s feasible that it marked the start of a relationship -- be it sexual or romantic. My reasoning here is quite simple: the timing is bad. Were it not for external events (Cas regaining his Grace and Dean taking on the MoC), the course would have likely differed. Furthermore, Dean’s guilt over making Cas leave the bunker as well as Cas’s own hurt and self-loathing pose a significant and as yet insurmountable obstacle, which is easily seen with how Dean and Cas’s character trajectories go separate ways.

YMMV on what exactly happened between them in that Motel, but something definitely did. Perhaps one day I’ll have a proper s9 trutherism post to link to here for more details (likely won’t be written by me, though).

10.16 Paint It Black

From the point Dean gets the MoC until the end of season 10, anything between him and Cas is quite impossible due to distancing, to say the least. Again, yes, the fic is really good, but alas. One of the reasons I’m bringing up this episode in particular is because of the confession scene. One, it’s a rare bit of explicit emotional honesty from Dean, and two, it tells me that while he and Cas may be well aware of the Thing™ between them, it’s still uncharted waters. It’s scary, and murky, and they’re unsure how to navigated it or if they should even try. Makes sense, too, there’s been A LOT going on since s6. Anyway, he’s the full confession:

You know, the life I live, the work I do…I pretty much just figured that that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around and jam the key in the ignition and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later, I’d go out the same way that I live – pedal to the metal, and that would be it. […] Now, um… recent events, uh… make me think I might be closer to that than I really thought. And…I don’t know. I mean, you know, there’s – there’s things, there’s…people, feelings that I-I-I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time. […] Yeah, I’m just starting to think that… maybe there’s more to it all than I thought.

Can I just say, first, that this confession keeps me up at night because we never actually see anything done with it explicitly? I mean, obviously, I think we do in fact see the effects of this confession in the show, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this behemoth, but still, like. Damn. Ok, so, remember when I brought up that thing in season 7 about Dean being kinda done with hook-ups? Here’s where that led us. We’re seeing a Dean here who wants more than what he has convinced himself he gets to have. He wants more than dying bloody. And when he talks about wanting to experience people and feelings differently, well, that says a lot not just on the queer coding front or the romantic front. I mean, jfc, Dean is accepting the idea that he can have more in life than just hunt until he drops, and he’s specifically talking about experiences at the interpersonal level.

Do you ever see a character having an epiphany and find yourself wanting to cry because this is it right here. Dean is just blatantly admitting he wants more and maybe he can make himself be open to that (!!!), which all culminates in season 11, so…

Season 11:

The pining is still here, but it’s worse now since it’s the whole plot? It’s been *checks calendar* 5 years of this. How are any of us still kicking I don’t know. Your slow burns could never. Cool worth noting points: Cas says yes to Lucifer (bad decision #2.5, lots of mitigating effects_I don’t actually hold it against him that much but Dean is another story & not entirely rational at this point); for the first time since the early days, Dean and Cas are on equal grounds: they’ve both fucked up a lot and have hurt each other. The issues this season are outside their dynamic. Amara and Lucifer here serve as externalizing forces for Dean and Cas’s problems: Cas checks out with Lucifer because he thinks it’s the only way he can help, Dean is caught up in the turmoil of Amara, the emblem of absence and avoidance of struggle. We do get something like an affirmation from the two of them to each other via Dean calling Cas his brother (and I want y’all to consider the historical queering of that statement, and Cas’s “I could go with you.” It feels like we’re headed to them being on the same page. By the end of the season, though, it feels like we’re getting a clean slate: Mary is back, nobody died, no end-of-the-world in sight, no interpersonal crisis. We’re also getting a new showrunner, so. No wonder. We’re gearing up for something, but I’m getting ahead of myself. What this season does that is super important is that it sets up the stage for the possibility of an actual relationship between Dean and Cas, something that has, up until this point, been pretty much impossible.

11.04 Baby

Y’all know what I’m about to quote here, right? That conversation between Dean and Sam about having something with someone who understands the life. Here we still have Dean reverting to the idea that it’s impossible, which is a direct contrast to the openness in 10.16. It’s understandable, though, considering there’s been little reason to think anything like that would be possible (see all the mess and poor timing from seasons past). The quote in question, though, marks a continuing development regarding the issues Dean is struggling with this season:

DEAN: Piper? That’s awesome. Heather. One-night wonders, man. Shoot, we’re lucky we still get that at all. SAM: Really? You don’t … Ever want something more? DEAN: I’m sorry, have you met us? We’re batting a whopping zero in domestic life, man. Goose eggs. SAM: You don’t ever think about something? Not marriage or whatever. But … Something? You know, with a hunter? Somebody who understands the life?

We wouldn’t be talking about this stuff all these years after Sam and Dean had a serious relationship if it wasn’t important, right? Also who else do we meet this season? That’s right! Eileen! And doesn’t that hit different with season 15 hindsight? And who does Dean have that understands the life? Whose stories have been intricately connected to his? Right now, this is all conjecture. A pipe dream Sam is revisiting, and Dean is skeptical about. Except, well. Look at what we get in “Into the Mystic” and “The Chitters.”

11.11 Into The Mystic

I’m bringing up this episode as a cross reference to “Paint It Black” as well as to complement the talk from “Baby,” and to show, again, that, for all the closeness between Dean and Cas, there’s still a marked distance they haven’t yet bridged. There’s still truths they haven’t told each other. Thanks Mildred for the delicious exposition:

Darlin’…If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my years on the road, it’s when somebody’s pining for somebody else. […] Oh, don’t try and hide it now. Follow your heart. Remember?

11.19 The Chitters

And here we see some validation to Sam’s imagining of a possible future with someone else. We actually see hunters who not only are married, but they both make it out alive. Jesse and Cesar get their happy ending. They make the dream come true. And the reality of it important not just for Dean to see, but Sam too.

Dean: [with realization] Oh, so … [points back and forth to Jesse and Cesar] Cesar: Yeah. Dean: Okay, that’s… Cesar puts his beer bottle on the table and looks at Dean, while Jesse is being silent. Dean: What’s it like, settling down with a hunter? Cesar: Smelly, dirty. [turns to Jesse] Twice the worrying about getting ganked.

I’d like to point out, too, that the fear of getting ganked is thematic when it comes to the tension between Dean and Cas. More on this when we hit s13.

Alright, now, having said that, let’s take a look at season 12. Bear in mind, this is the official start of Dabb’s era, even if he kinda began taking over in season 11, and the change in vibes is obvious. In fact, 12 jumped out at me as a turning point, in hindsight, after getting smacked by the domesticity of seasons 13 and 14.

II. Why Season 12

[Out of date section. Update coming soon when spoons. After significant debate, I’ve altered the definitive start of Dean and Cas’s friend-with-benefits-with-mutual-pining relationship to between 12.02 and 12.03. I briefly explained why here, and yes it’s a shitpost--still true tho.]

Finally, the promise land, y’all. Getting right to it: what s11 was for Dean in terms of setting up the relationship stage, s12 was for Cas. In its initial beats, any way. That is, until the Kelly debacle, this was the longest Cas has been around the bunker and with the exception of seasons 13 and 14, it’s one of the first times we get to see how Cas might actually fit into the bunker-as-home. Things seem remarkably chill. Of course, we’ll notice that there’s still a lot of baggage hanging around because despite Dean and Cas being in a more stable place, they haven’t actually dealt with their interpersonal problems. I didn’t single out directly this episode, but do keep in mind Cas’s declaration in 12.09 First Blood as far as how much the Winchesters matter to Cas & how we also see Dean and Cas be particularly singled out with them seating together in the backseat of the Impala. What we also see this season is Cas trying to prove he is worthy of this family, his family. He’s not fighting for heaven or to right some grievous wrong (a la s8). No, this season he’s fighting to spare the Winchester, to bring them a win. To bring Dean a win. The major disconnect is that Dean (and Sam & Mary) already sees Cas that way, he doesn’t think Cas has anything to prove. And just maybe, Cas starts believing that too – or, at least, believing it enough.

12.10 Lily Sunders Has Some Regrets

This episode, oh my god, the goodness. In the wake of 12.09 we have Dean and Cas in a tiff because Cas mistake #3 (killing Billie and “cosmic consequences”), this is a pattern. Twice the worry of getting ganked, etc etc. But where this episode really shines is through the contrast between Ishim’s obsession with Lily and Cas & Dean’s mutual affection for each other. Ishim sees no difference here and, to him, Cas’s feelings for Dean are a human weakness. Returning to my point about human!Cas, this episode underscores that Cas’s increasing humanity is what puts him in the place where he can want what Dean wants instead of either being too alien to get it (see s4 & 5) or unable to experience it properly (Ishim).

12.12 Stuck in the Middle (With You)

Cas’s trajectory culminates here with the whole I love you (@ Dean), I love all of you (@ Winchesters). Let’s note too that Cas is dying here, in a way that is much more human than going up in light. This declaration of different types of love is entirely human. It’s also a definitive step wrt to Cas and Dean’s relationship because of what happens in 12.19. This. is. it. Oh, and, of course, let’s not forget to point to Dean’s face when Cas says that “I love you,” and how terrified he is that Cas is dying. Might make one rethink some things, hm?

12.19 The Future

This episode is simply hella suspicious, and all the kudos to Berens and Glynn for writing it. It’ll haunt me forever. Consider watching it again and just questioning everything. So. Weird things:

1. Dean’s reaction to Cas no getting in touch as opposed to Sam’s. Dean is pissed, which is Dean-speak for worried out of his mind. Sam is very worried, too, and puzzled, but he’s mostly expressing his relief that Cas is back. But Cas has gone awol before, but this time Dean is much more worked up about it; Sam takes note of this, too. Now, let’s imagine that maybe the events of 12.12 led to something happening between Dean and Cas. Then Cas decided to leave to find a lead on Kelly, but eventually Cas decides to work with Heaven and goes radio silent. For days. Having taken a chance, and something having happened between them, how would Dean react to Cas just going poof and not contacting him – despite Dean having called Cas multiple times.

2. Cas knows about the Colt. Ok, nothing off there. But when he goes to Dean’s room to talk, right after Dean leaves we see Cas looking around briefly. Like he know Dean would keep it in there. Maybe Cas had looked other places already. Who knows. What we do know is that eventually he does find the Colt not only in Dean’s room, but under Dean’s pillow. Sam didn’t even know the Colt wasn’t in the safe. So how did Cas know?

3.“He came into my room and he played me.” So, this quote right there, makes it seem like some seduction for personal gain, right? But can you see Cas actually doing that if they hadn’t gone there previously? For Dean not to suspect anything and go with it? There’s plenty of plausible deniability here, but the gaps in time in the narrative make me question what is there in those spaces. The scene where Cas tried to give Dean the mixtape back doesn’t read like “playing,” so it’s about a different interaction. Hm. Hmmm.

4. Dean and Cas’s brief conversation in Dean’s room is clearly Dean just wanting Cas to stay, so they can work (and be) together – because they’re better that way. Which, yeah, truth, but also ow.

5.And most importantly: When did Dean give Cas that mixtape??? How did that happen?

Sequence of events: Cas tells Dean he loves him – Dean is clearly shook by it – Dean gives Cas a mixtape (romantic gesture, often a declaration of feelings; in true Dean speak too lolsobs) – Cas goes awol - Dean acts like he got ghosted by his new bf -?????- Cas somehow knows the Colt is under Dean’s pillow – "He went into my room and he played me."

What am I supposed to do with that, hm? Like. Y’all realize they probably had some emotionally constipated getting together moment, right? Something that Dean clearly initially thought meant things were gonna change, now. Something that Cas couldn’t allow to happen until he could give Dean a win. Y’all are seeing this, yeah? I’m not saying they slept together and were full of feelings, except that’s kind of what I’m saying. But YMMV, there are other possibilities beyond sex. The full of feelings isn’t up for debate, though, even if the whole thing is informed by ridiculous amounts of miscommunication.

III. Seasons 13 through 15 As Established Relationship

Regardless of what happened in season 12, exactly, I can’t shake the feeling that something did happen, and something did change. My reasoning here is actually really simple: in comparison to previous seasons, Dean and Cas’s dynamic shifts significantly come season 13. I know some folks have been disappointed with some of season 13 and then season 14 for having dialed back on the destiel side of things. And, hey, maybe there’s truth to that in terms of backstage stuff, but I also want to point out that...well, the dialing back isn’t quite dialing back is it? Let’s look at 13 a little more closely:

Season 13:

So I said the deancas dynamic changed, right? I also think that change caught us unaware because the pivotal turning point that would cue us in never happened on screen as well as being subsumed by Cas’s death and Jack’s birth. But if I ask you about deancas in season 13 what would come to mind? Grief arc? Brokebacknatural? How domestic Dean and Cas are? There’s just something easy about their relationship after Cas returns from the Empty. The tension we’d grown so familiar with over the years is gone. Actually, it feels like we skipped the getting together bit of their relationship and went straight to established relationship and parenting. Some of the most peak married deancas moments we see circulating? Season 13, (and 12.10). It’s a lot, and it’s different, and it’s amazing.

13.01-13.05

Dean’s grief mini-arc. He was acting like a widower. Here’s me vaguely gesturing towards the mapping of Jonh, Mary, Dean, and Sam onto Dean, Cas, Sam, and Jack. And the reunion? I can’t help but be giddy at the song choice: “it’s never too late to start all over again.” To. Start. All. Over. Again. I’m just saying.

13.06 Tombstone & 13.16 Scoobynatural

I’m not going at length about these episodes, I just want to point out that they reveal that Dean and Cas have a whole thing going on off screen: they watch movies together, Cas knows about Dean being an angry sleeper, Cas seems to have been aware of the Dean-cave before Sam was. It’s little things like this that are examples of the narrative gaps surrounding Dean and Cas that have cropped up over the years. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to wonder what else could be hiding there. And when did the movie nights alluded in “Tombstone” happen? Maybe in season 12 when Cas in hanging around the bunker? The same period when Dean and Cas seem to be coalescing into something safer and more stable? Something that we never see come to a head because plot happens and Cas dies? Something that is immediately taken back up once Cas is alive again?

Season 14:

Overall, this season is more of what we got during 13, but it had two high notes I wanted to single out before ending this already too long post.

14.15 Peace of Mind

Look me in the eye and tell me Dean and Cas talking in the kitchen about Jack doesn’t read like husbands talking about their child. Look me in the eye and tell me Cas just texting Dean to gossip about Sam isn’t couple-y as hell.

14.18-14.20

Ah, yes, the divorce arc. Awful. Terrible. The culmination of Dean’s problem in all this: he lashes out, he pushes Cas away, his anger is alienating. Cue all of us suffering. But while Dean is clearly in the wrong in how the deals with his feelings, let’s not pretend some of his anger doesn’t come from a long established, and unaddressed, rift between him and Cas, which had its last traumatic turn when Cas died in s12. Dean isn’t being rational here: he saw Cas doing something on his own, and he saw that his mother is dead. What else could happen? Why won’t Cas just trust they can work as a team? What if Cas died again? And why should Cas put up with Dean’s behavior without knowing the cause? How can any relationship work this way? But notice how caught in the middle Sam was during all this. Notice how Jack is running off and acting out. The whole family is falling apart. Divorce arc, indeed.

Season 15:

But what about what we’re building up in 15? That seems like it could be a getting together plot, too, right? Well, yeah. It could very well be. But I’d argue the tension we’re seeing isn’t a will-they-or-won’t-they because they already have. We’re are watching a getting back together plot! The tension is, instead, will-they-or -won’t-they use their words to talk about the baggage that has kept them from truly being confident about their relationship. That’s the crucial step in their togetherness that they’re still missing, which is also the bedrock of the divorce arc that spanned twelve fucking episodes -- y’all, that’s half a season.

And technically? We’re not even done with yet because Cas never let Dean finish his prayer/confession in purgatory. What’s more, Cas hasn’t grappled with his role in the breakdown of their relationship, either: that he keeps going off on his own and getting hurt (and getting other people hurt), and Dean has to deal with the fallout. The deep emotional understanding, the truly being on the same page is what we’re on the edge of our seats for. We’re waiting to see what else Dean had to say, and what will happen when Cas’s deal with the Empty comes to light.

Finally, could we still have this plot without Dean and Cas having gotten together off screen? Sure, but I think the stakes are higher if they already did have something between them. If they actually have an established romantic relationship going on. Something real and tangible and as of yet much too fragile.

"...you asked what about all this is real. We are."

#destiel #deancas #supernatural #spn #spn meta #this thing is gargantuan yikes #anyway enjoy? let's chat #my writing #this thing is half meta half my adhd unleashed

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razorblade180 · 3 years

Text

Interdimensional Moms part 2

Part 1 <-

Yang:Okay Weiss, your turn.

Weiss:What!? Why me?

Blake:Because you’ve been bouncing in your seat all through Yang’s story. You clearly want to gush about your kids.

Weiss:Pffft, What!? Nooooo, a little. Hehehe I can’t believe I’m that obvious. *smiles*

Ruby:Aww look at you, I never believe Weiss Schnee could look as warm as campfire.

Yang:And wearing mom jeans!? Little jealous that you still look completely gorgeous. Why does mom energy make you prettier?

Weiss:What can I say? I’m great. As far as my universe goes, I argue that I’m the strongest mom!

Blake:Such a bold claim.

Weiss:I carried twins! *points to self* this body handled two buns in the oven!

Ruby:Couldn’t be me. *shutters* I’d sooner loose an eye. Speaking of eyes, your scar has a friend. Got this whole upside down cross basically.

Weiss:Oh that? That’s uhhhh- how would I even explain this?

Yang:And your hair! It’s short!

Ruby:Yeah you’re just a surprise all over.

Blake:Guys, let her start from the beginning!

Ruby and Yang:Oh right. *covers mouths*

Weiss:(Yep, they’re the same sisters anywhere.) Thank you Blake. Now then...a good starting place? Well I suppose I could lay the ground work of Jaune and I getting better acquainted. It was about two weeks into reaching Atlas. Winter learned I got impaled and berated me not giving any kind of thanks. Since I had waited so long to do so, words wouldn’t do for her standards and she made me take him to a proper dinner. I think it was that night we actually talked openly to each other. A piece of me was annoyed at first because I thought he’d get the wrong idea again. But...he didn’t. He was just happy to spend time with me. That’s when I realized he had changed a bit *red* and apparently I changed too. Sigh, because that annoyed feeling was actually me forming a crush.

Blake:Looks like you changed more than he did. I think we can all agree that we’re pretty rough to deal with at Beacon in the beginning?

Yang:Hell yeah!

Ruby:Preach! Hehe, but it meant you grew the most too.

Weiss:Hey! You’re all assuming that I was terrible! Who knows, I could a Saint compared to your Weiss. Maybe I was a sweetheart at Beacon.

RBY:.....

Yang:Were you?

Weiss:*red* I’ll never tell.

Blake:(That’s just a no...) Two weeks into Atlas huh? I bet feelings raged whenever the whole place was under attack huh?

Weiss:W...What attack? Barely anything happened in Atlas.

Blake:Excuse me?

Ruby:Pfft what? You’re joking right? There wasn’t any threat of things falling out the sky or war threats?

Weiss:No? We showed up, put the relic in vault, and took time fortifying things while planning with Ironwood. The most exciting thing was a grimm wave and two of Salem’s goons showing up at a ball, but we handled that.

Ruby:....I...that’s...oh my head.

Blake:So what you’re saying is time in Atlas was a piece of cake?

Weiss:Well I had to deal with my father and and a lot of other family drama so I wouldn’t say it was cake. It was actually very stressful.

Yang:Well I think we found the massive shift between worlds. Atlas was different. I would say I dealt with anything like falling kingdoms. Atlas for me was one long Mission Impossible sequence. Espionage, jail break, fake deaths, but please continue with your love story.

Weiss:You sound a little envious. Anyways there isn’t too much of anything to tell in that part. Dates, fighting together, sibling healing, I was disowned publicly, Penny was being amazing-

Blake:You were disowned?

Ruby:(Penny is...alive? Huh, well, imagine that?) .....

Yang:*whispers* You okay Rubes?

Ruby:Yeah, processing. Hey Weiss? Not to control the narrative or anything, but how is your Ruby exactly? I get the feeling she’s quite different from me somehow if things like the adventure in Atlas are different.

Weiss rubbed her chin. She could tell the Ruby in front of her was pretty perplexed by the differences so far. In fact, Weiss could tell mentioning Penny made them all flinch a little. It was safe to assume they all hadn’t heard that name in a very long time. It made her feel a little bad. Did she somehow get a more ideal world?

Weiss:I think I might be able to answer that if you could humor me by getting a little further into my world’s reality? I don’t know how but I do get a since the two of you might have a key difference.

Ruby:I’m all ears.

Weiss: Blake, I’ll circle back to being disowned a little later. It’s one of the biggest reasons I am who I am now. Let’s see now, ah, the plan. After Atlas was infiltrated it was hard to save face to the rest of Remnant. That was until the world learned about Salem. It was a secret that was doing more harm than good at this point. On that day, our journey really began for us. Team RWBY wasn’t just four girls and their friends. It was one of four four girls commanding troops, organizing meetings, rallying others. We were the face of a revolution: along with JNPR of course.

Ruby:The world just...believed in Salem?

Weiss:There were plenty skeptics, but it’s harder not to believe it. Pen- our winter maiden, showed off magic. Then the others on our side followed the example. We had two relics to show off from the start, and a variety of ways to explain questions throughout history that nobody could answer before. We gave humanity’s suffering a face. People were more than eager to cling to it. From that point it was hard for Salem to make a move that wouldn’t give further validity to our story.

Ruby:An army huh, lead by us?

Weiss:Yep, mainly you when it came to the battlefield. You were anxious at first and definitely made moves that you regretted. But...after some time and experience, you stood tall in front of dozens to give a speech the night of the final battle. I still get chills. There wasn’t an eye that wasn’t on you. A person who didn’t want to march into battle with you. I don’t think I ever seen you more sure of where you were meant to be.

Ruby:Is that so? Hmm, I think...I think I get it now. Your Ruby must’ve stumbled quite a bit, but had people by her consistently. It was other’s strength that enabled her to get stronger. How old was she when the war was over?

Weiss:It ended on her twenty first birthday.

Ruby:Makes sense. An army isn’t made in a day. Plans and caution for everyone involved. A united force like that sounds like a thing Oz dreamed of.

Weiss:Actually, it was. My world beat Salem by gaining the relics. The gods witnessed the effort the world put in and stripped her of immortality. It was actually thanks to you that Salem went peacefully. Instead of damning her to a cruel fate, the gods let her pass on to her kids per your request. After that, gods and magic came back. Both are still mysterious. The gods are hard to find and there’s only one person born with magic so far.

Yang:Magic is a thing there!? That’s so unfair! Just imagine me with more fire!?

Weiss:Like you need it!? You’re already like a generator. Life after Salem wasn’t any calmer really. Terrifying grimm lurked where their could, an entire new way of life had been dropped on society, and even the world itself seemed to react. Weather has been more intense as of late. There was a lot things to keep people busy. Ruby being her usual self, started hunting. Blake used the momentum of faunus and humans working together to further her equality agenda, and Yang helped both of you out.

Yang:Look at me! I’m a great girlfriend and sister!

Blake:*mumbles* There at least.

Weiss:Yeah. Oscar and Penny decided to embarrass more of normal lifestyle, mostly. Penny went back to being protector of Mantle, but had way more free time to be a normal girl. Both of them had gotten really close over the years and eventually married.

Ruby:*wide eyed* Awwww, good for them! I always had a feeling those two would hit it off.

Weiss:They weren’t the only ones. You may have been busy, but you always made time for Whitley. The two of you were dating since our original trip to Atlas. There wasn’t a problem that either of you didn’t come to me for. You know hard it is to navigate other people’s relationships when you’re lost in your own? The blind was leading the blind. Worked out though. You were probably the prettiest bride out of all of us. Then again, you went ours and literally took notes.

Ruby:Hehe, that sounds exactly like something I’d do. You haven’t talked much about the charmed life after the war for you.

Weiss felt her face heat up. She placed her head on the table as if she gave up on something.

Yang:Yeah! Give us the scoop!

Weiss:Charmed isn’t what I’d call my life exactly. I was disowned, completely cut off. Even though I made my own mark in history, it’s not like people were gonna roll out red carpets. The world had to rebuild, and I needed a roof over my head. Thus began the modest life of Weiss Schnee, owner of a two bedroom Argus apartment. Fancy clothes a food were no more. Just clearance sales and two for one. Honestly, I didn’t hate. But that’s mainly because I wasn’t living alone.

Blake:Jaune?

Weiss:Living back home was just as unappealing for him as it was for me. That and the fact that I couldn’t cook for shit was concerning, to say the least. Moving in and splitting rent just made sense. We weren’t dating yet technically, but.....it didn’t take long for the relationship between us to...expand.

Yang:I cannot believe a Weiss Schnee finally caved to tall blonde and scraggly. I should be jealous, but I’m strangely proud of Jaune’s achievement. It’s like the first time I lost to him. I was upset, but man did he work for that win.

Weiss:Took about a month before all of you had learned just what the living situation was like and man did you three let the teasing begin? *smiles* it was fun though. If I had to wrong about something then I’m glad it was about me not thinking a person is reliable. Especially since they’ve bailed me out of trouble many times. Normal life had its pitfalls. We were constantly working to pay rent. Sometimes one of us had to work harder. Getting sick was disastrous, of long term assignments. What’s the relationship I have with Whitley in the other worlds?

Ruby:Casual. The two of are always throwing ideas back and forth to help the company.

Blake:The two of you are fine. I’m not too sure how much you actually hang out, but you both are pretty snarky whenever you’re together.

Yang:Thick as thieves. That man was always shifting money and finding sneaky ways to let us know when important things popped up.

Weiss:Good, that’s really good. *exhales* I can’t count the times he sent money without father knowing. I’m glad we reconnected. Without his and everyone’s help, I don’t think I would’ve managed. Especially when mom died...

Ruby:Oh. I...I’m sorry to hear that.

Weiss:It’s bound to happen when you drink the way she did. But yeah, didn’t handle it any easier. Between that and stressing over money, I really got overwhelmed often. I was very glad I didn’t live alone. Even if I didn’t want to talk about things, Jaune was always there to listen. I think it was around that time I realized just how in love I actually was with him. He makes me happy. That idiot must’ve known how much of a weakness I had for him. It was only a few months later that he proposed.

The simple memory of Jaune asking her under a street light on a cold yet peaceful night, made Weiss’s face a healthy shade of red. A gentle smile was all she could make thinking about it. A smile that left everyone stunned. They had never seen Weiss look so warm. So genuinely filled with love, happiness. To think she was once called Ice Queen? This one really did look like an Angel. Weiss quit daydreaming and got a little embarrassed.

Weiss:Uh, sorry! I guess I little mushy there. I’ve been told I’ve gotten pretty sappy through the years.

Blake:I think that’s beautiful.

Yang:Seriously. I’m...speechless really.

Ruby:A hardworking Weiss that struggled making ends meet. I gotta say that you look good doing it.

Weiss:Yeah well, that time has passed. My father got sick and in an attempt to “clear his conscious” or whatever he was feeling, he put me back in the family. I only saw him once when he was on his deathbed. Truthfully, I don’t visit my parent’s grave. I wanna say old emotions don’t get stirred up, but there’s certain feelings towards people that just can’t die I guess.

Yang:That’s fair. Who knows, maybe you just need a decade or two?

Weiss:Hehe, perhaps. However, before I got my fortune back, I was granted an either better one. Two in fact. That sly knight of mine managed to overachieve like he always does and give us a boy and girl.

Blake:I got a sneaking suspicion that you weren’t upset?

Weiss:Not for one second! I love my babies. My darling little Nick and Summer Schnee. One named after our grandfather, and Jaune and I are both really thankful for all that Ruby has done for us, so our daughter got named Summer. It meant a lot. My Ruby...she can’t have kids, or I should say getting and staying pregnant is extremely difficult.

Ruby:...*sniffling* These aren’t tears by the way. Just dust.

Weiss:My Ruby cried.

Ruby:Oh I bet! That’s some powerful stuff. Probably ugly cried too. Someone please say something? *misty eyed* Fuck, man that was a lot. *puts hood up* give me a sec, please keep going. *holding Yang’s hand*

Yang:Weiss, weren’t you a little scared about your living situation?

Weiss:It was a weird thing. We talked about having a family before hand. Money was always a concern, as well space; but I also knew that I did want to have a family of my own one day. So when the day came that the nurse told me I was pregnant, I should’ve been more worried. I wasn’t. All I felt was joy. Maybe it was because I had faith we could handle anything. We did have you all to help. Yang, you might as well be a superwoman honestly. You have been so amazing throughout my life.

Yang:Aye! I really love this other me.

Blake:What about me?

Weiss:You remain the most sensible person in my life and I thank you for it. Everyone else is crazy.

Blake:Yeah that’s pretty on brand. *smiles*

Ruby:Picture please?

Weiss gladly pulled out her scroll and showed off her children. It was quick to see both of them had gotten their father’s dorkiness. They stood in front of the camera playfully winking and were pretending to take a bite out the gold medals they had around their necks. It was crazy how much Summer looked like her mother, but clearly had Jaune’s eyes. Her brother on the other hand had the Schnee eyes and messy Arc hair. The two looked like barrels of fun. Then there was the man himself, Jaune Arc. He looked from the one in Yang’s photo. His hair resembled his days traveling to Haven and he was clean shaven, but he was noticeably healthier. It wasn’t even a physical thing much, though he did look good. He just seemed more vibrant.

Yang:Mine is cuter.

Weiss:Yours looks like your dad with the scruff.

Yang:Can you not?

Blake:How old?

Weiss:Sixteen. Little devils want sports car. I’m not dealing with that. Nick is really good at figure skating and is the oldest, so he’s the heir. Summer decided to be a little like her mother and pursue singing. Doesn’t have my voice though, but her range is better than me. I’m jealous. Both of them are always pretty decent in a fight if I do say so myself. Sigh, they grow up so fast. They still have a lot of growing to do though. Teenagers...

RBY:Preach...

Ruby:Everything okay though? Nothing too tough going on?

Weiss:Can I lie and say yes?

Yang:Hey I unpacked my baggage. Unload yours.

Weiss let out a large sigh. She looked at her kids lovingly, but had a smile that seemed...somber. All of her energy was brought down a bit and it showed.

Yang:Umm if it’s too much-

Weiss:It’s fine. It might be a little therapeutic to talk about it. Personally, I don’t I’m doing all I really can do. When they were very young, we all took a trip to go skating at a frozen lake. While I was there I found this strange ice dust that I’ve never seen before. Nick and Summer had gotten into a fight and by accident, Nick set off the dust. The shrapnel from it hit everyone, but Summer had it the worse. I’m talking it was lodged in her in multiple places. Not to mention the blast sent her flying into the water. I was hit so hard that I nearly blacked out. Thankfully, Jaune was the furthest and dove into the water while I managed to get Nick. He avoided a lot of it due to distance and was winded more than anything.

Ruby:Christ...

Blake:How young?

Weiss:Five. We rushed so fast to the hospital as soon as we could. The dust in Summer was freezing her until Nick activated her semblance and most of the shards got used up. Still, Summer ended up hospitalized for almost a year. Surgeries, comas, seizures; it was difficult to put it lightly. That picture doesn’t show it but she has puncture scars across her body, and a slight scar under her jawline she covers with makeup. That dust, though highly dangerous, it also healed her eventually. Summer had virtually no chance of survival. Not even counting the organ damage, that water should’ve put her into shock. But...she made a full recovery, on paper.

Yang:On paper?

Weiss:Several years later, Summer came in contact with the dust again and she...changed. Her eyes looked like mine, her light blonde hair went white, and she went mad. Her scars glowed with the dust that was still in her system and Summer started attacking everyone. I saw my twelve year old just use ice that was cold enough to burn. My extra scar is from me trying to restrain her. In the end it took my gigas pinning her down before she came to her senses. Summer had no memory of it. She said all remembered was feeling cold and hearing her own laughter. It wasn’t long after that it kept happening. Any time she got cold, this other...thing would come out. It eventually called itself Shiva.

Blake:Shiva? So...it’s a multiple personality?

Weiss:We don’t know. There’s so many inconsistencies. We got her checked up by the best and every test was normal. Her brain looks normal. But any time Shiva comes out, her blood turns blue and all she wants to do is hurt us. Shiva and Summer are even aware of each other now. There’s almost no day where Summer doesn’t hear Shiva in her head, wrestling for control. Between that, people at school who hate her, the scars, everything; Summer has become pretty reserved. She barely wants to go to school and she’s depressed most days. Nowadays she doesn’t open up about it outside of therapy. I...I can connect with her. Not in the way that matters.

Yang:I...shit, I don’t know what to say to that.

Weiss:That’s okay, few do. We’ve gotten good at preventing situations that get Summer cold but it’s through trial and error on something we know nothing about. Even with how far we’ve gotten, there’s a looming fear in everyone’s heart. Make no mistake though, that doesn’t stop any family from loving her with everything, but the mental strain of it all is more than anyone should deal with. Nick is kind soul. He blames himself for this and is constantly doing all he can to be there for everyone and put on this brave face, but he suffers inside. For a time, he went to therapy. Your sister almost killing you is a visceral experience. Getting him to sleep and take a break is like telling a fish not to swim. He is pretty open about this though, which helps a lot. It’s just...how do convince somehow they’re good enough when they think they’re not?

Ruby and Blake:You can’t....

Weiss:Exactly. It’s so...*tearing up* How am I failing at helping my kids worse than my own mother?

Yang:And that’s where I draw the line. *stands up* Now I can’t begin to fathom dealing with a a situation like this, and what I’m about to say is gonna be a little hypocritical but I really don’t care. Weiss, the last thing you are is a bad mother. I could tell immediately from the way you are that there hasn’t been a single as a parent that you haven’t made a choice without your kids in mind. I get feeling like there’s a gap that disconnects you from there; but the fact you keep your arms stretched out to bridge it makes you mother of the year in my eyes! Don’t believe for a second you’re a bad mother. Your the gold standard!

The room filled with silence for a moment. Weiss felt a lump form in her throat as she fought back tears that she eventually had to wipe away. She tried letting out a small laugh, but with it came more tears that ran down her face. Weiss couldn’t tell if it was from Yang’s words, or the stress. All she knew was that right now, she felt very thankful for being here.

Weiss:Damn it Yang, making me cry is something you’ve always been good at. Maybe that’s why I look up to you so much?

Yang:*red* Y-You what?

Weiss:My Yang, I downplayed just how much I adore her. Her daughter, Veronica, she’s got her fair share problems that stresses Yang out, but I never see her stop trying to connect with her. Even when she’s sad it’s like it’s only for a second, then you’re trying twice as hard. It’s amazing. If I’m being honest, and this is embarrassing, but I kinda picked up a mother from you. You’ve always been a bit motherly.

Ruby:She’s right.

Blake:Mom energy since day one.

Yang:Really? *rubs head* I was just being myself. Never really thought about it. Now then, wipe those tears! It’s upsetting that you look pretty why you cry. Meanwhile I look like a hot mess, and not in the fun way.

Weiss:*wiping face* Oh please, I don’t wanna hear that from someone who’s never needed make up. Those genes of your went to Veronica. Kids a genuine beauty. She’s just angry all the time.

Yang:Yeah that sounds appropriate... Weird to think I have a daughter that’s not Yujin. Wish I could see her.

Blake:Me too. Though I think I’d be overwhelmed seeing all my different kids. I’d probably want them all.

Ruby:My hands are full with ones I have and I wouldn’t say I’m juggling them well, so I don’t need other kids from universes. I’d be so stressed.

Weiss:Especially if they’re violent.

Ruby:Yeah, that would bad....

Weiss:Phew, I do feel a bit better. Even though I said all those things, my family still had good times. It’s not tense and we joke around like everyone else. As a family, we’re happy. We just have shit we gotta sort through.

Blake:Rich or poor, life has certain things that hit everyone. Is Jaune doing well.

Weiss:Yeah, he gets through to Summer pretty well, and he’s typically calm when it comes to giving guidance. He had his fears, but that’s why I’m here. We confide in each other.

Blake:May you and everyone else find a light at the end of the tunnel.

Ruby:Hey Weiss. Does....actually, never mind. Forget it.

Yang:We both know that’s not happening. Spit it out.

Ruby:I was just about Shiva. I’ve encountered weird things in my world, but this is unique. I was wondering if you have any positive experience with her.

Weiss:Not a single one. Here since of enjoyment in the displeasure of my children is a thing we disagree on. Though....her eyes, they do throw me off. For some reason, they don’t match her joy.

Blake:Maybe that part is still Summer. Eyes are the window to the soul and all that jazz.

Weiss:Maybe? I hope the kids are okay right now. I wonder what they’re up to?

xxxxx

Summer:WHAT’S UP VALE!!!!!!!!

A massive crowd screams “what’s up Summer”in excitement. Flashing lights and chanting fans’s voices make the sold out venue shake with their passion. Summer can only bask in it. There’s no better feeling than when she’s on stage. She looks to herself excitedly. This one was extra special. Nick comes out on stage with a base around him and a second microphone.

Nick:WE CAN’T HEAR YOU!!!!

The crowd chants louder. Summer responds by starting a rift on her guitar. She faces Nick with a smug look. Yes, having him on stage is always a joy, but that didn’t mean Summer wanted him hindering or stealing the show.

Summer:Well look who’s here!? Atlas’s favorite son! Think you’re ready to play with the kids up here. This isn’t your normal stage.

Nick smiled. He responded by playing the bass and letting the audience speak for him. Summer was chessing fool. Slowly she bopped up and down, urging him to do the same. It wasn’t long before they in sync. Drums, piano, and other background musicians began building up the tune as planned. The twins whipped around to face the crowd.

🎶Get down! We won't let you go!

This time, can you bring us down?

Back up! fly far through the sky

BLACK ROVER!

Let's go! All together now

And at last this world can't slow us down

For now, let's dye it all in black

BLACK ROVER!🎶

The two stood back to back...

🎶As more join and stand beside me,

The void doesn't feel so empty!!!!!

I know there is much more in store

Let's open that door -!🎶

Nick looked over his shoulder and saw Summer doing the same thing. This was gonna be one for the books. Jaune watched from backstage with one of the stagehands.

Stagehand:Should we tell them to save their energy? This charity event is six hours.

Jaune:Nah, let them have fun.

#rwby #rwby au #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #rwby whiteknight #nicholas schnee #summer schnee #rwby twin snowflakes #jaune arc #the void

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ultimatebethylficlist · 3 years

Text

Veteran Author of The Month: June 2021

The featured veteran author for June is also a co-admin right here at UBFL: SquishyCool (or @im-immortal )!

SquishyCool can be found on AO3 and FFN under the same penname.

When asked what got her into Bethyl and what the fandom means to her, she said:

I’ve been a hardcore TWD fan since the show began airing, but that’s because of my love for zombies. In all honesty, I didn’t really ship anyone for the first 3-4 seasons. I kind of shipped Daryl with Carol, but then it became clear that it was a platonic relationship and in all honesty, I just wanted to see them both get some action lmao. Then the prison fell... and in those first moments of “Still,” when we see Beth and Daryl running and running and finally collapsing on the ground, breathless and exhausted... the butterflies started. Something clicked and I immediately thought, “uh oh.” The rest is history, especially considering how “Still” and “Alone” played out. I can’t explain how or why I’m still so heavily invested, especially considering my last 2 fandoms only kept my attention for about 2-3 years each, but here I am. And I love it! I am so incredibly grateful for the Bethyl fandom because not only has it helped me improve my writing so much more than I ever could have imagined, but it has also introduced me to some of the most amazing people, including someone who I now consider one of my very best friends! It’s my happy place :)

For her personal fic rec list, she recommends:

In The Maw by ronsparkyspeirs

Way Down We Go by LeathernLaces

Surfacing by lindentree

Wild Things (The Moonshine Poet) by Abelina

The Gift by Feliz

The Man Who Can't Be Moved by burningupasun

New Experiences Series by wallflow3r

Whisper Softly to Me by taylorcatherine

Interstice by leftmywingshome

To Love Like a Man by Seraphique

Death, Death (i defy thee) by alamorn

In My Blood by Courtneyshortney82

Let the Good Times Roll by gutsforgarters

Resolved by Allatariel

the weight of these wings by peachthorns

all my spaces are filled with you by annabeth_writes

A Little Jailbreak with the Little Jailbait by wandering_gypsy_feet

between the beginning and the end by sheriffandsteel

SquishyCool’s Works & Personal Thoughts:

Dirty Fingernails and Dried Blood Summary: What happened during the months between "Still" and "Alone"? Beth uses the last pages of her diary to write down every detail of surviving with Daryl. Thoughts: My first Bethyl fanfic. It holds a special place in my heart for that reason, though it is pretty rough. If I could go back, I never would’ve done it entirely in first-person. But I do plan to finish it one day. There are some scenes I’m particularly proud of, and I still have a long note full of ideas and plot points.

Most Wanted Summary: After Beth’s mother and half-brother are murdered in a drug war, the godly veil on the Greene Family operation is lifted, and law enforcement comes down hard. In an effort to protect her family, Beth commits a heinous crime that could mean life in prison alongside them. Now everyone she’s ever trusted is in police custody and her only chance at freedom is to get as far away from Atlanta as she can... Thoughts: Well, this is a must-read if you like my writing. I hope to one day convert this into an original fiction and maybe get it published, but I need to finish it first LOL. I got the idea from ONE scene of “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt,” and from there, it exploded into a huge mystery thriller (with lots of romance and smut). I’m really really proud of it, and I’m scared I’ll fuck it up tbh, so I keep putting off continuing it. But I really need to get back to it because I really want people to see what I have planned! (Also, this fic is the reason @courtneyshortney82 started talking to me, so that alone is pretty historic lmao)

The Crow’s Song Summary: Beth and Daryl spend a few more days together in the funeral home and come to terms with all they've lost along the way. But soon, they must decide what comes next. Thoughts: This fic... this fucking fic. It took me a full year to write. I made numerous edits. I even got a little depressed while I was writing the last two chapters, and my bf didn’t know why until he read what I’d been writing lol. It’s honestly the Bethyl fic I’ve always wanted to write but just didn’t know how. I’m still really really proud of how it turned out.

Carnival Games Summary: Daryl is a traveling carnival worker and Beth is a barely legal farmer's daughter looking for a night of fun when the carnival comes to town. Thoughts: Omg this fic is so fun!! One of my first Bethyl fics, and one of my first Bethyl smut fics. Short, sweet, a little funny, and a lot hot. I am still impressed with myself on this one, especially considering how much my writing has improved since lol

Breathe. Please. Summary: Beth shows up at the Hilltop. Alive. Daryl can hardly believe his eyes. Until she's lying in his bed, an arm's reach away. And he can hear her inhaling... exhaling... inhaling... Thoughts: Another “fix-it” that I’m proud of. Tbh I didn’t think it was anything all that special, but a lot of readers have said it’s one of their favorites, and some say they reread it regularly, and nothing makes me happier than hearing that, so I am extremely proud.

picking @ scabs Summary: Sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, being with them just isn't right. But what wouldn't you give for it to be right? Can someone like Daryl learn how to swallow his pride and stop repeating the same mistakes over and over? Can someone like Beth learn to fight off her demons and allow him to get close enough to hurt her again? How can they stay away from each other when it's all too easy to fall back into one another? Picking a scab will leave a scar, but they both have so many scars already... what's a few more? Thoughts: This fic is very, very personal for me. It’s like my “therapy” fic. I have poured some of my deepest feelings and struggles into its chapters, and the whole idea that got me to start it was that I wanted to find a way to navigate and cope with ending my 3-year long relationship with my emotionally/mentally/sometimes physically abusive ex. I still have a lot of fond memories from that relationship, but even more so, I have painful memories. Not to mention, going through your early 20s as a woman in the modern day is a fuckin’ trip, so this kind of explores that. It’s really self-indulgent, I think, but I’m really proud of the smut in it. And more than that, I’m proud of the response. I’ve had a few people message me or comment to say that they’ve felt all those things, or have experienced similar things, and it’s really just... relieving. I put my heart and soul out there, and what I got back was “you’re not alone.” So yeah, this fic is special. I wanna finish it soon, but I have to be in A Mood to do so.

In Toto Corde Summary: Despite a million reasons not to, Beth and Daryl fell in love. Then he made the ultimate sacrifice in order to keep all of his promises. Now, facing unimaginable consequences at the hands of witch hunters, Beth has no choice but to use her powers to bring Daryl back from the dead. "He won't be the same..." Thoughts: I LOVE THIS FIC. I love it so much that I had to rewrite it after like 4 or 5 years. And I already started on a sequel that I really hope I’m able to finish. Though it doesn’t have many hits, and I don’t think many people have read it at all, which I understand since it basically is entirely focused around Daryl being killed. But damn, I’m proud of this one, and it was really fucking fun to write because witch!Beth is just... the best.

risk it all (part 1 of in for a penny, in for a pound) Summary: Daryl Dixon has a pretty decent life, all things considered. He's got his own place. A good dog. A few friends. Even a girlfriend. He keeps himself out of trouble. Until he starts texting Beth Greene. And hell, if he ain't about to risk it all for this damn girl. Thoughts: This was supposed to be one short multichapter fic focused entirely on smut and social media. Then I got on a roll and it ended up being the beginning of a series! This fic is purely fun. Nothing too serious or heavy. I write it when I’m in a Good Mood because it’s my little happy place. I have plans for about 4 more fics before the series will be finished!

Don’t Make Me Haunt You Summary: So here's the thing: Merle Dixon is dead as fuck. And as it turns out, Beth Greene is the only one who can see or hear him. Which is weird considering she's never met or even heard of this guy, let alone anyone with the last name Dixon. That's her first problem... Thoughts: The reception to this fic has absolutely blown me away. I had no idea anyone would want to read about ghost!Merle haunting Beth and forcing her to solve his murder with the help of his grumpy brother. And it was all inspired by an episode of South Park lmao then I started really getting into it and now it’s just like, my super fun fic where I explore a range of emotions and all kinds of religious beliefs and different mythologies and I can build the world however I want and goddamn I just love writing this fic. Plus there’s a podfic for it! I can’t even begin to explain how much I love this fic and how proud I am of it :)

#bethyl fanfiction #veteran author of the month

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ilovemesomekillianjones · 3 years

Text

Navigating the Storm 2/4

Summary: Emma Swan navigates the aftermath of Neverland by trying to deal with everything the way she always has, by locking all her feelings away. Between having to share Henry with two other people now, her parents confession in the Echo Caves, her parents pushing her towards a man she has no interest in, and feelings for another man that she never expected to feel, Emma is at the end of her rope. *Post Neverland - No Curse*

Author’s Note: Thank you again to the wonderful @hollyethecurious for beta reading services! After the response to Part 1 - I am so nervous in hoping that Part 2 lives up to its predecessor.

Rated M 3.1K ao3 ffnet Part 1 Under the cut, promise

Emma woke, wrapped in a warm embrace and her body immediately tensed in the fog of early morning brain haze. She never spent the night! Then she remembered where she was and who she was with and although a new fear popped into her head as she realized she was exactly where she wanted to be, Emma decided to unpack that later. They were both on their left sides and his right arm and leg cocooned her. She relished just how nice it felt to be right here, right now. Under normal circumstances Emma might feel smothered, but the crisp Maine air had penetrated the cabin a bit and his body heat was heavenly.

“Don’t run off, Swan,” he grumbled in a raspy, sleep-filled voice. “I can feel you thinking.”

“What do you mean, ‘feel me thinking’?” she asked, mocking his husky morning voice and accent. She fell into giggles when he squeezed her in his arms and tickled her side.

“Your body tensed as soon as you woke, that’s what I mean.”

“I actually wasn’t thinking about running off.” Emma sat up as she pondered how to translate what she was feeling. “I mean I was, but I was more thinking about not running. I know this is going to sound ridiculous because it sounds stupid in my own head, so don’t laugh.”

“Try me,” he said softly, as he sat up next to her.

“Have you ever done things the same way for so long, or done the same thing so many times, that to not do the same thing scares you?”

Hook chuckled and nodded his head as he picked up on exactly what she was saying.

“I said no laughing,” she deadpanned.

“I wasn’t laughing at you darling, I merely know exactly the feeling you are referencing.”

Emma folded her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Let me share with you,” he offered, “since I see you are doubting me, despite your lie detector’s silence.”

Emma narrowed her eyes, damn him for always being so right about her. Open book, his words echoed in her head.

“Why do you think I left when you appealed to me to help you and your boy, to be a part of something?”

Emma took a moment to consider this, and though she’d always assumed it was because he was the ruthless Captain Hook, maybe there was something to what he was saying. “Because it was what you had always done? Look out for yourself, you’ll never get hurt.”

“Precisely Swan, but - and this is where I understand what you are talking about, when you appealed to me, every part of me wanted to stay and help. I wanted to stay for you. For the first time in centuries, my focus wasn’t on my revenge, and that? Well that scared the shite out of me.”

Emma was a little bit speechless, she’d always been thankful that he’d come back, but she’d never stopped to really question why. In fact, she was embarrassed to admit that at the time, she’d assumed he’d found some self-serving purpose to help them. Placing her hand on his cheek, she leaned in to kiss him gently. “Thank you for coming back,” she murmured. “I don’t think I ever truly thanked you. And since you’re always asking for gratitude in the form kisses, that’s what that kiss was for.”

“Let me show you how I say you’re welcome.”

Emma laughed, a carefree little thing, as he tackled her to the bed and kissed her soundly. When Hook broke the kiss, Emma tried drawing him back in, but found he was sticking to his word. While she was disappointed to not experience more of this man while she had him in bed, she knew that this was one of the kindest things anyone had ever done for her, putting her well-being first, even when she didn’t want to.

“We should get you home, lass, your parents are probably worried about you. I don’t suppose you checked in with them on your talking phone?”

“It’s just a phone,” Emma giggled, secretly finding it adorable that he was trying to learn new world lingo, “not a talking phone. And no, I didn’t. I left my phone at the diner so no one would bug me.”

“Bollocks, Swan. You’ll be lucky if there isn’t a massive search party underway already,” he said as he jumped out of bed.

Emma took his proffered hand and left the comfort of the bed as well. “Ugh, you’re probably right.”

“Let me walk you home?” Hook asked after they’d dressed.

“I’d like that,” Emma answered. “Think we have time to grab a cup of coffee at Granny’s?”

They walked in relative silence as Emma pondered her next steps in helping herself. She was tired of feeling like a prisoner in her own life. Hook had made some really good points last night. Who knew Captain Hook was a life coach in training?

By the time they arrived at the loft, Emma had made a choice. Grabbing his hook, since he was holding a coffee in his hand, she said, “I’m going to talk to my parents this morning, about everything.”

“I think that’s a smart idea, love,” Hook affirmed, before taking a sip of his coffee.

“Will you come inside with me?”

After choking on his coffee and coughing until he was almost blue in the face, he answered truthfully. “I think that is the opposite of a smart idea, but… as you wish.”

“Thank you,” Emma sighed in relief. Before she could grab the handle to the door, it swung open.

“David, it is her!” Snow called over her shoulder. “Emma! We were so worried about you!” she cried as she wrapped her arms around her daughter. “I heard the coughing at the door and hoped it was you. You didn’t come home and I was so scared someone or something had gotten to you.”

“I’m fine, mom,” Emma assured her, hugging her back with her free arm.

“What’s he doing here?”

Emma gritted her teeth as she peered into the loft and saw Neal standing inside. What the hell are you doing here? she wanted to scream at him. “I asked him to come with me,” Emma answered with a measure of calmness she was drawing straight from where she was still gripping Hook’s hook.

David stepped forward to join his wife and daughter in an embrace. “I’m so glad you’re alright,” he whispered. “Come inside,” David said as he ushered Hook and Emma into the loft.

“Where’d you spend the night,” Neal asked.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business,” Emma growled.

“Why is he here?” Emma asked, looking between her parents.

“I called him this morning when you hadn’t come home,” Snow confessed, eyes downcast to the floor. “I asked him if he knew where you were and he got worried and came over. We were going to get a search party organized. I’m sorry, Emma.”

“It’s okay,” Emma said, reaching to grab her mom’s hand. She didn’t miss the way her mom’s eyes shot up to meet her own, relief clear in the relaxed set of her brows as Emma uttered those two simple words. She gave her mom’s hand a squeeze before letting it go. “Let’s talk.”

Turning to Hook, she nodded her head toward the kitchen and pulled him forward. They both sat down at the dining table, where Snow and David joined them.

“I’m sorry I worried you guys last night. It was… bad form,” she smiled at the turn of phrase, “of me to leave my phone at the diner and not let you guys know I was okay. Killian was kind enough to let me stay aboard the Jolly for the night.”

“You really think jumping straight into Hook’s bed is the best thing for Henry?” Neal sputtered.

“You’re out of line, Bae,” Hook snapped.

“It’s okay,” Emma whispered to Hook, then she stood from the table and walked straight over to Neal, until her face was inches from his.

Anger boiled in her belly, but she tamped it down and instead spoke with composure she didn’t feel. “Again, I fail to see how that is any of your business. I don’t give a fuck what you think about who I spend my time with or where I spend my nights. You lost that right so long ago. And I would never do anything to jeopardize Henry’s best interest, so you can stop using that as a cover for your jealousy of Hook. Now you can stay or you can go, but the conversation I am about to have with my parents probably isn’t something you want to stick around for.” She whipped around without waiting for a response and sat back down next to Hook at the dining table.

Emma looked between her parents as they sat next to each other holding hands, and it made her happy that they had each other. “Mom, Dad, we have to talk,” Emma started, pausing only momentarily when the door to the loft opened and slammed shut. “I let everything build up after we got back from Neverland. Last night was the absolute wrong time to try to make you guys understand all I’ve been keeping inside, and I’m sorry that I went off and then stormed out. I’ve never been the best at talking things out.”

“Emma, we only want what’s best for you,” David said sincerely.

“I know that,” she said confidently. She reached across the table to place her hand atop her parents' joined hands to make sure she had their attention. “Neal is not what’s best for me.”

“I’m sorry we were pressuring you toward him,” her father interjected. “It’s obvious now that something happened between you two, but your mother and I didn’t know that.”

“That’s what I wanted to discuss this morning,” Emma said, sitting back in her chair. “I want to tell you what I should have told you from the very first time you mentioned Neal and I getting back together. Killian once asked me if I’d ever been in love and I lied to him. I lied because I was ashamed to admit that I had been in love once and I’d gotten my heart broken like the stupid, naive teenager I was.”

She looked over to the man himself, and took his hook in her hand again. He smiled at her, giving her a reassuring nod. “Look, I’m going to make this as quick as possible, because this is something I hate to even think about, let alone talk about. Without going into all the details, when I was sixteen, I met Neal. We got together and eventually decided we wanted a better life, more than petty crime and sleeping in stolen cars. Neal said he had a way for us to make that better life, but it involved one last job, and I was stupid enough to help. When all was said and done, he left me holding the bag for his crime, because Pinocchio had found him and told him that I was The Savior. An anonymous tip was made to the cops and I was arrested. I was charged with possession of stolen goods in an amount exceeding the grand theft larceny limit, and they put me in prison for eleven months.”

Hook shifted in his seat, and she didn’t miss the fury in his eyes. “That’s where I found out I was pregnant, that’s where your grandson was born,” Emma’s voice cracked with a sob as the pain she’d dealt with on her own came rushing back. “What exists between me and Neal now, can only be based on what happened between us then. I hated myself, and by extension I hated him, because I did the one thing I’d vowed my whole life that I’d never do if I had a child of my own. I gave him up.”

David and Snow sat silently, grief stricken as they listened to Emma tell the story of what had happened to her when she was still just a child herself. A steady flow of tears trailed down Snow’s cheeks as she faced the collateral damage of a choice she’d made. David was ashen as he thought back to the moment he’d placed his precious daughter into that wardrobe so she could be The Savior.

“And I hate that I put those looks on your faces, I know you had no choice in sending me away, but I didn’t know it back then,” she continued, straining to get the words out through the tears. Emma leaned into Hook when he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, helping her to fight the intrinsic urge to shut down, with just his supportive embrace.

“I didn’t make the time to process anything that happened over the last few months, Neal returning, Neal dying, Henry being kidnapped, Neal being alive, mom wanting a new baby, Dad almost dying, Henry almost dying. Then we came home, and not only did I have to share Henry with Regina, but now I had to share him with Neal of all people. And he just wouldn’t let up about getting back together and putting the past behind us for Henry’s sake, like it was my fault that there is this wedge between us. The final straw was having you two push me toward Neal, it made things… unbearable.”

“I’m so sorry, Emma,” her mother spoke first, “we had no idea.”

“How could you,” Emma said, “I tried to sweep everything under the rug instead of talking to you guys. I didn’t want your pity and I didn’t want to be the reason you’d pass judgement on Neal.”

Snows brows furrowed. “Emma, sweetie, parents are always going to lament the wrongs their children experience, it’s because we love you, not because we pity you. It’s especially painful, at least for us,” Snow said, looking at David for confirmation, “because we weren’t there to pick up the pieces with you.”

“I’m sorry I never took the time to explain any of it,” Emma apologized.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” David spoke. “That… coward, he’s the only one at fault here. I’m just sorry I didn’t know sooner.”

Despite the somber mood, Emma couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Hook sat next to her, no doubt spoiling for a fight with Neal, and her father looked just as primed to knock her ex down a peg or two. “He’s still Henry’s father, and I didn’t want everyone in town to hate him because of what happened between me and him. That’s why I never said anything. And now that I have, I don’t need you, either of you,” she amended, looking between Hook and her father, “seeking to avenge me.”

“No sucker punches, then?” Hook asked, looking at David while rubbing his jaw subconsciously.

“Or sneak attacks with a crowbar?” the prince asked, eying Hook.

“Exactly,” Emma said, “I just need my parents to back me up when it comes to the fact that there is no me and Neal, and there never will be.”

“We promise,” David said solemnly.

“Of course,” Snow agreed.

“And just so there is no question, I am happy that you guys want to try for another baby. I was just a little taken off guard when you mentioned it in Neverland, I was already struggling with the whole orphan game that Pan was playing. I’ve always felt replaceable, a byproduct of being in foster care, and no one has ever stuck around, so it took me a hard minute to realize that you weren’t trying to replace me.”

“We just got you back!” Snow exclaimed. “We would never try to replace you, Emma.”

“I know that, logically. Like I said, some of this was my bullshit that I needed to deal with. I just wanted you guys to know that I am happy for you, and I also needed you to understand where my head has been these past two weeks.”

“Thank you for trusting us enough to confide all of that to us,” David said. “I hope you know we are always here for you. And Hook,” David continued as he extended his hand across the table, “thank you for taking care of our baby girl last night, she needed someone and I’m glad you were there.”

Hook scratched behind his ear as he tried to come up with an apt response. His instinct was always toward sarcasm or innuendo, but he knew now was the time for neither. Accepting the handshake, Hook replied graciously. “You’re welcome, Dave. I’m glad I was there, too.”

“All this talking has made me really hungry,” Emma said. “Anyone up for breakfast at Granny’s?”

“Why don’t you and Hook go,” Snow suggested. “Your father and I already ate and now that there is no search party, we can still make our appointment to look at a property.”

“A property?” Emma asked.

“We want more space,” her father started, “and I miss having land and animals around.”

“I guess it is a little crowded in here,” Emma laughed.

“Not space from you,” Snow corrected, “you’re more than welcome to come with us when we find a new place!”

The cheerful hope behind Snow’s voice almost made Emma feel guilty about the fact that she already knew there was no way she would be moving with them. “Thanks, mom.” Emma didn’t miss the swell of elation that crossed her mom’s face at the sentiment. “You ready to go eat?” Emma asked Killian.

“Aye, love.”

“Maybe you guys can tell me and Killian about the property over dinner this week?” Emma asked, and she didn’t miss the shocked expressions on each face in the room as so many things in that sentence gave each pause for different reasons.

“Sure, honey, that sounds nice,” David answered, a genuine smile touching his eyes.

The four said their goodbyes and then Emma and Hook headed out the door hand-in-hand.

“Does she mean like a double date?” Snow asked.

“I don’t know,” David admitted, hands on his hips, “but I think he’s good for her.”

“You? You think Hook is good for our daughter?”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Snow said, a smile ticking her lips. “What a difference a trip to Neverland will make. You couldn’t stand Hook.”

“That’s before I knew what kindred spirits he and Emma are. I think he understands her in a way we never will.”

Snow’s face crumpled a little and her husband was quick to pull her into his arms to reassure her that he hadn’t meant it as a slight to them as parents. “Emma knows we love her, all I’m saying is she and Hook have a lot in common. They understand each other just as you and I have always understood each other.”

Tagging some folks, please let me know if you want to be added or removed ♥

@laschatzi @qualitycoffeethings @hookedonapirate @wordsmith-storyweaver @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @wyntereyez @hooklineandswan @teamhook @let-it-raines @spartanguard @whimsicallyenchantedrose @tiganasummertree @apromisednightcap @xemmaloveskillianx @elizabeethan @cocohook38 @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @timeless-love-story @jennjenn615 @girl-in-a-tiny-box @thesschesthair @galadriel26 @ultraluckycatnd @lifeinahole27 @therooksshiningknight @kday426 @djlbg @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @delightfully-difficult-pirate @thejollyswan @csalltheway @xarandomdreamx @resident-of-storybrooke @vvbooklady1256 @withheartfulloflove @mcakers @gingerchangeling @searchingwardrobes @snowbellewells @nadine200179 @alexa-fangirl-forever

#cs ff #cs fan fic #captain swan #CS is my otp forever #cs fan fiction

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