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#we only have one picture together which my mum forced us to take when we were 12 and no I will never be okay
mebiselfandi · 6 months
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I have “I talk about my best friend and throw up 60 times disease”
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heyidkyay · 1 year
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I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name
Part Seven
A/n: Might've cried a lil writing this part:/ But I hope you enjoy it all the same x
Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.
The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.
Warnings: Talks of a struggling relationship with a parent, (doesn't go into detail but alludes slightly to other things, so take that as you will), and the mention of previous deaths of relatives (again, there's not much detail)
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--
“Mum?” I croaked out.
The woman in which had birthed me and given me my name was stood in the very same cafe, ignorant to my presence. 
There was no denying it was her. Her hair was still the same shade it’d always been, only now it was cut into a sleek sort of bob that better suited her face. She was thinner now too, I supposed. Her figure only accentuated by the fitted silk shirt she had tucked into a pair of dark jeans.
I scanned over every detail she had to offer me, or rather the world, but came to an abrupt pause when I saw a sudden similarity between us. It was a simple one really, but I saw then it in the way she was laughing away heartily at whoever she was on the phone to, her smile so wide and unapologetic. It was very same smile I'd caught myself wearing in pictures with friends, or when I rewatched old videos of us at gigs.
The realisation made my stomach turn, as though everything inside of me was slowly being vacuumed up into the big black hole that had suddenly replaced it.
I was snapped back to reality rather quickly when George’s head whipped around to see what I was freaking out over. His wide eyes darting between both myself and the woman who was stood waiting in line for her order, his jaw dropped. He looked just as unsure on what to do here as I was.
Because, well, what were you supposed to do when the parent you hadn’t seen since leaving home was stood right in front of you? It was a headfuck, a complete and utter headfuck. That had me ripping at the very seams.
George must’ve seen it on my face too because he reached across the table then to take my trembling hand in his, forcing me to divert my attention. My eyes found his. 
“Birdie…”
His low whisper paired with that godforsaken nickname wasn’t even enough to distract me from the way I was beginning to spiral. Suddenly, I felt so out of it. As though I was floating out of my body, or on another plane all together. 
I took a deep breath then shook my head at him, hoping to somehow clear my mind. 
“I know, it’s fine- I’m fine. I’m okay. Really.” But I didn’t know who I was trying to reassure here, him or me. “She just, brings something out in me. I didn’t expect to see her here is all.”
“No shit,” George mumbled distractedly with another long glance over his right shoulder. When he looked back at me, he hunched further across the table to keep his voice low. "You gonna say something?"
I blinked, but the thing that shocked me wasn't his question, it was the real anger I saw then in his eyes. It wasn’t a typical emotion for George.
“Sorry.” I apologised for the interruption, then attempted to steer us back on track. This wasn’t about her. This was me trying to fix things with George. Us trying to salvage the friendship we’d had long before we’d ever messed things up between us by getting together. “Where were we again?”
“Don’t. Don’t do that. Not with me.” George interrupted, his grip on my hand tightening by a fraction. “You don’t have to pretend. I know what it was like. What you went through with her, how bad things got. I was there. You don’t have to build back up all those walls you tried so hard to knock down around me.”
I felt my eyelids fall shut when that familiar burning sensation begun to tingle the tip of my nose and started to sting just behind my eyes. My throat was slowly closing and the hairs that ran down my arms stood on end.
It was hard to hear, especially when I’d worked so hard to come to terms with the distance that our breakup had wedged between us. But ultimately, that was only because I knew he was right. He knew better than anyone what I’d gone through. Seen more than I’d care to admit I’d wanted him to.
“I just can’t do this. I-" I choked out, the tremble in my hands seemed to invade the rest of my body now. Everything appeared to be working against me.
George was still there though when I reopened my eyes, and I had a vague guess as to how red and watery they must’ve looked as I stared back at him hopelessly.
“Take a second, yeah?” He murmured to me, his thumb gently skimming over the back of the hand he still had yet to let go of. 
The action seemed to soften things somehow, gave me a feeling to ground myself to. I swallowed down the tension I'd felt balling in the back of my throat, letting it sit heavily now in my chest.
I couldn’t bring myself to look back at her though, at the hazy stranger I just about recognised.
Not yet.
“When was the last time you spoke to her?” George questioned me quietly and I couldn't silence the humourless chuckle I let go of, playing with the fraying tear in the booth’s tablecloth that someone must have caught their zip on. 
“Other than that birthday card? My nana’s funeral.”
George’s brow pinched further. “That was almost a year ago now though. I remember it. You two hardly said more than six words to one another.”
I shrugged, feeling small. “Well…”
With a sigh that was more of a scoff, George shook his head and worked his jaw. “Who’d you spend Christmas with then?”
I mustered up a sad smile. “Matty’s family took me in. With both my grandparents gone now, and well, us being…”
George dipped his chin curtly, eyes darting away for the briefest of seconds just as the vein in his neck ticked. I tried not to react to it.
“I didn’t have many people offering to put me up.” I told him honestly as I glanced towards the counter, shrugging a shoulder again. The rip in the tablecloth had grown now too.
“I-” George begun but faltered as he inhaled, sucking in far too sharply for it to go unnoticed. But then he shook his head as though irritated and his brown eyes found mine again shortly after. “Do you want to say something now? To her, I mean.”
I felt myself frown as I thought it over. Did I? It was a chance to face her again, to talk things over, maybe get some answers now that I was older and not so sheltered. But, then again…
My gaze flickered up to see her still stood there waiting. She was by the counter this time, leaning in and flashing a smile at the worker whilst she accepted the drink she’d ordered. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
George seemed to have followed my line of sight too and he turned back towards me a bit too quickly to get my reply. “Well? This is your last chance.”
And I watched on as she called out her hasty thanks, still prattling away on the phone whilst she started to make her leave. The only thought that crossed my mind though was whether or not it was the same number I’d tried calling her on a few weeks prior. Or in the months before that. I opened my mouth to say something, but I just couldn’t do it. Unsure if I even wanted to.
She was gone then. A whirl of hair and sweet laughter as the wind swept her back up, closing the door firmly shut behind her.
It felt like a strange metaphor for my life.
I slumped.
The cafe seemed to grow nosier after that and I wondered when everything had started to dial back for me. George was still there though, studying me closely like he always used to do. Only, it was for an entirely different reason this time around.
“Maybe it’s for the best.” He said, looking at me almost like he could sense every thought I was thinking, every feeling I felt. I dropped my eyes so that I could paste on a semi-convincing smile.
“Yeah, maybe.”
“You can let it out, you know. If you need.” George mentioned, and he chewed on the edge of his bottom lip for a blink before shrugging lightly, on anyone else the gesture might’ve appeared abashed but whilst George was many things, he was far from that. Not with me at least. “Dunno. Just used to help.”
And it had. Whenever things would happen, when a memory would resurface, or I'd just be having one of those days… I’d close up and hide away from everything. It was only whenever George prompted it out of me, or decided to my mind off of things, did I see the bigger picture again.
In the time we’d been apart, those days had grown a little more frequent. Longer too. Because I hadn’t had that around to distance me from the thoughts. There was no light to keep the shadows at bay.
“I don’t know. It’s just weird, ain’t it?” I swallowed thickly and had to force my gaze outside, focusing on all the chips in the pavement and the birds that were now scouting around the decking. “Of all the people. All the places! And when I’m here with you too, trying to muddle through all our shit. Just feels like someone’s gone a dropped a massive bomb on my life.”
I waited a while for George to say something, to maybe pull his hand away or draw me in closer. But he just gave me that moment. And I didn’t know whether to be grateful or not for it, especially when it only seemed to spur me on.
“She was supposed to be all these things. A role model. Someone I could turn to. Look up to. A person I could always count on to be on my side. But she was barely ever there. Not when it counted.”
I could feel every hurt I'd ever felt in the breath I took then.
“She was meant to protect me. Keep me safe. But after dad- she just let anyone walk in and out of our lives. She was just a doorstop to them, a warm bed, and I had to face the brunt of it all. The leers and the looks.”
I scoffed, blinking away all the emotions of that sad little girl.
“You’d have thought that after his death, she’d might've wanted to keep me close. Make sure nothing bad happened to me too. But she just shut me out. Sent me away- to my nana’s, and my aunt’s.” 
My next whisper was sharp and it stung, it tainted the air around me. 
“She couldn’t even bare to look at me, G.”
George was there. Sliding into the booth beside me. He wrapped an arm around my waist and shielded me in his side, blocking anyone else who might have looked over then from watching me fall apart. I focused on my breathing, in and out. Out then in. The fog seemed to lift slightly as I continued, and George must’ve sensed it because he let up a little.
“Sorry," I sniffed, "If I’d've known that today would end up like this I would’ve spared you the lost time.” I made a chuckling sound that was mostly belittling and rolled my eyes at myself.
“Oi, don’t say that. She’s the one who fucked up. She’s the only one who should be apologising. Alright?”
I nodded slightly, because I couldn't not, and took the tissues he handed me, ruffling them between my fingertips. 
“It just hurts, I 'spose. ‘Cause somewhere deep down inside, I’ve always sort of felt like I was disposable.” 
That confession felt like too much even in the moment and so I turned away from him, sniffing as I blinked back the welling tears again. Only, one slipped free, but I was quick to swipe it away, chuckling sadly at myself.
“God, bet you regret asking me out now.”
George was sure in the shake of his head. Face solemn. “Never. Just thankful to be here.”
I snorted softly in turn, not believing him for a second. 
“It’s the truth.” He shrugged, gifting me one of his small lopsided smiles.
I used the tissues then to wipe at my nose and caught him staring as I did. I tried to smile back. “Alright if I go clean myself up? Feel like I’ve been hit by a lorry or summat.”
George and I shared a small chuckle between us and he nodded as he stood from his seat, allowing me to slide past.
“I’ll just be a minute.” I assured him, but it was useless as he only rolled his eyes at me. Waving me off.
By the time I’d sorted myself out and fixed my makeup as best as I could, George was nowhere to be found.
My heart lurched as I walked back over to where we'd just been seated, eyes scanning the length of the shop whilst a million stupid thoughts ran through my head at a million miles an hour, only to be silenced by the very sight of him waiting outside for me by the curb. Obviously having gone out for a cigarette whilst he waited.
I calmed my racing heart. He hadn’t just upped and left. 
As I made my exit and thanked the gent who held the door open for me, its bell jingled, grabbing George’s attention from where he’d been toeing the outline of a drain. His lips curved up into a smile as I made my way over.
“Alright?” He nodded and I copied the action, releasing some of that remaining tension I’d just been working on shredding off in the girls loo’s.
“Can I?” I requested, titling my chin over towards the fag he held. His eyes dropped down to it too and he took a small drag before willingly giving it up. I hummed my appreciation, inhaling deeply.
“Feeling any better?” He quizzed, squinted stare unmoving from me as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat.
“Air helps.” I replied, then tried for a joke, wanting to lighten the weighted atmosphere I’d created. “But hey, they say bad things come in three’s, so I won’t be too surprised if I end up under a bus on the walk home.”
“Don’t say shit like that.” George grimaced, and shook his head as he looked away from me, seemingly paler at the very thought. I glanced away too, feeling a bit stupid. 
A long silence fell between us then and I used it to finish off the cigarette he’d lit. Already itching for another. But I wouldn’t. At least not yet. Not until I’d made it home and started running a bath. Waiting for that second where I could just hide away from the rest of the world again. An avoidance method I often frequented, which was appearing more and more enticing after everything that had happened over the last two days.
Still, I couldn’t leave things like this with George. I didn’t want to, try as I might. He’d been such a big part of my life growing up and today showed me that that fact hadn’t changed, even though our relationship had. 
Whatever had happened between us in the lead up to our breakup, and the period after it, could be sorted out if we tried hard enough. I didn’t want to lose him, I couldn’t. And if things panned out the way I hoped for them too, then I’d have to get used to dealing with a lot more than just patching things up between us, like him eventually falling in love with somebody else.
Just the idea of it had me rolling, nausea creeping its way up my spine making my head spin.
I moved to stub out the butt on a nearby brick wall, tossing it into the plant box sat outside the cafe. George had calmed somewhat and was gazing over, watching me as I walked back towards him.
I rubbed at the tip of my nose, eyes lingering on my feet a moment too long. He cleared his throat.
“I um, Ross and I were gonna meet up down the local in a bit for a drink, if you wanted to join.” He mentioned, scratching the back of his head. “Only if you fancy it though. Figure we could just put this on pause for a bit. Let you get your head sorted first.”
I blinked, a little surprised. By the offer or his sincerity, I wasn’t quite sure. But I found myself nodding slowly anyhow, shocking myself even further. The hot, relaxing bath I’d been dreaming about vanishing in a blink.
“Uh yeah, yeah that sounds nice, I think.” I replied, caught off guard. But I inhaled and got over myself enough to give him a sly smile. “Did MacDonald plan it this way, believing that our meet would end in shit?”
George snorted at the insinuation, smirking over at me from where he stood rocking back and forth on the paved path. “Maybe, but when’s he ever been this prepared for anything?”
I gave a light laugh, unable to help myself. Because wasn't that the truth.
“So we’re encouraging this sort of behaviour now?”
“Why not? He’s growing up.” George grinned and I felt my feet moving before my brain could catch up.
“Alright then. Lead the way, Daniels.”
Part eight>
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b-rainlet · 1 year
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I think Alicent x Aegon could happen in canon
After all, they gave us that Larys x Alicent thing (yes, I know it was horrible) but it's a very daring thing to do with the feet.
So I think that if they have the stomach to "cross the limits"
Regarding what you mention about "religious guilt", although this is true, there is something you haven't mentioned…Viserys is dead, this will be something liberating in a certain way for Alicent…now the only thing left is duty for her eldest son and king…which might make her inclined to let her son do what his "heart desires"
Besides, she married her son to her daughter, she already got used to the fact that the Targaryens are farther from the faith of the seven… I think that will be very useful for the Aligon
After all, at the coronation, Helaena seemed more like Aemond's partner… because she was so far from Aegon, while Alicent was his true queen, almost his wife, at least that was the scene.
I think they're going to build this weird tension between Aegon and Alicent…but the trigger for both of them to fuck will be after B&C
When Helaena is with her depression, at that moment Aegon will surely want some consolation…Alicent will give it to him, but at the same time she wants to forget the grief of her grandson's death, thus giving herself carnally to her son the king… .a few kisses and the scene cuts out.
I think it's a very plausible scenario, because believing that they would develop Helaegon even though Aegon doesn't give a shit about his wife is unrealistic.
I try not to have too many thoughts regarding what's going to happen because I don't wanna have too high hopes and end up being disappointed but I agree with you that faced with the decision of either focusing on Aligon or Helaegon, they'll probably go with Aligon (and therefore continue to have Aegon barely acknowledge his own wife/give Helaena next to no scenes before killing her off).
And you're totally right that if anything happens, it's probably after Blood&Cheese. For me, it was always kind of the initiator because it's when Alicent truly starts replacing Helaena (not only as regent Queen but also as a Mother, subsequently raising Maelor as her own), but your reasoning also makes a lot of sense!
Two people coming together in their grief....the only ones to truly understand what the other is going through.....it's a unique kind of pain to lose a child and I don't think Aemond for example would understand it the way Alicent would.
Also being married to somebody so physically/mentally unwell they're unattainable to you....lost in their own grief and forgetting everybody else over it....
(Side note: Two parallels that make me wanna claw my eyes out thinking about them:
A. Alicent taking care of her Husband and King Viserys and his declining health, only to then end up taking care of her badly burned and now disabled Son and King Aegon, filling out a caretaker role for both and
B. Viserys being so grief-stricken over losing his wife, he focuses only on their shared daughter (albeit barely) and ends up neglecting his other children -> Helaena being outright forced to admit to favouritism among her two sons and being so guilt-ridden (and grief-stricken) over the loss of her oldest, she starts neglecting her other children)
And!! Good point regarding Alicent and feeling a sense of 'duty' toward her oldest! I talked about it before, but I don't think Alicent scolded her children often - at least not publicly and I also think the expectations placed on Aegon became worse once Otto was back in the picture, so in my opinion, Aegon is 100% spoiled and even if Alicent would put up more resistance regarding letting Aegon 'do what his heart desires' the impulse for him to go 'I want it, therefore I should get it/My Mum gets me what I want, no matter what that is' is definitely there.
(And we could delve into Aegon being the kid that feels the most unloved and like he has to fulfill way more of his mother's wishes to be 'enough' for her/may feel like her love is conditional, yet at the same time knows for certain that he can fuck up as badly as possible and his Mother will always have his back/is spoiled enough to believe that whatever he wants, his Mother will try his damn best to get it for him.
And we could parallel that to how Aemond feels like he has to fight for scraps in terms of any sort of influence or wealth and how for him, his Mother's love absolutely feels bound to him fulfilling that role of 'good son' but...that would be enough for a whole seperate post).
The only thing I don't agree with you on is the whole 'crossing limits' thing because of course I will compare Hotd with Got and for me, all the more fucked up scenes regarding sex were less about pushing limits and more about torture porn.
These scenes - including the feet scene - are solely about pressure and humiliation for the women involved in those scenes - a form of blackmail, a way to show how powerless women are in these scenarios/worlds, a powertrip for the guys involved.
And unless they make an Aligon scene all about Aegon sexually assaulting his Mother - which I can also totally see happening - I just don't think, it's the kind of boundary they're willing to cross. Consensual Incest? Between Mother and Son? I think that's a different topic altogether than their usual fucked up stuff.
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mindofharry · 3 years
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Stepdadrry pleaseeeee ❤️❤️❤️❤️
A small little angsty blurb of harry having to deal with a moody child for the first time! enjoy!
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Being a dad is something harry has always wanted.
It’s something he’s dreamt about. So when he met you, it was like fate. You two had met at a museum, Y/N was doing the tours and harry was new to town. Harry had been looking for a home for quite a long time and finally found a good one. The only downside was it was in a small village — or maybe it was good. When Harry first moved, he realised everyone in the village knew everyone. So when Harry permanently moved in, he was the talk of the town.
It died down after a few weeks, but he felt like a proper celebrity.
After finding a job in a local café, Harry went exploring and came across Y/N’s small museum. It was nothing fancy, but it looked like the town came together and put this museum up with historical facts about the village. It was something super special, and harry was glad he got to be apart of this.
When he first saw Y/N, his heart practically burst out of his chest. Harry bit his lip and his eyes widened as she turned around from behind the desk. Her long hair was in neat braids, and she was wearing this beautiful yellow sun dress. Y/N had paint on her hands and arms and a flower tucked behind her ear. There was one word to describe Y/N and that word was; perfect.
“Are you new to town? I haven’t seen you around before” Y/N asked with a big smile, maybe because she was so excited a new person was here or because he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.
“Yeah, I moved here two weeks ago. You’re the first person to have an actual conversation with me” Harry said leaning against the wall. Y/N shook her head and took the flower out of her hair placing it on his harry coat pocket.
“Well, aren’t you lucky?”
And Harry was.
After asking her on a date he knew she was the one. Y/N is kind, selfless and so funny. He found is other match. On the third date, Y/N seemed nervous. Like she was itching to tell him something. Harry then started to get anxious, thinking this is it, this is the time she breaks up with me. So the night was tense, everyone felt it. When dinner was over, Harry drove you back to his and opened up a bottle of wine trying to ease the tension a little.
“I… I have to tell you something” Y/N said and put the glass of wine on the table. Harry nodded his head and took a deep breath in, preparing himself for the worst.
“I have a kid”
A kid?
Harry started to laugh.
“Baby, that’s what you were so afraid to tell me?” He giggled and Y/N nodded looking down at her feet. Harry sighed and placed his wine on the table, then lifting Y/N into his lap placing both of his hands on her cheeks.
“I do not care if you have children, Y/N. I like you and whatever comes with you. Tell me about them”
Y/N’s child is a boy, River, fours year old and a total sweetheart. He’s so smart and has the best manners. His dad is still in the picture, but he works a lot so he doesn’t get to see River as much as he’d like to. But there’s no bad blood between Y/N and River’s dad, the relationship just didn’t work out. But Y/N’s glad she’s gotten a second chance, because she’s found her soulmate. Some people aren’t ready to take on that role, and she’d never put anyone in that position unless they 110% ready for it. She knows River will absolutely love Harry.
Harry knew about River now, it was like a weight had lifted off of Y/N’s chest and she could fully relax now.
She wanted Harry to meet River as soon as possible, but she needed to wait it out a bit just in case something were to happen. She doesn’t want to introduce them and only for her and Harry to break up in a couple of weeks. It would be too confusing for everyone, so Harry and River didn’t meet until two months after Harry and Y/N made it official. Y/N had been dropping hints for those months, and River seems to like his dad’s girlfriend, so she thought now was the right time to do it.
“Hi buddy! I’m Harry” Harry introduced himself, giving River the teddy bear he picked up on the way here. Y/N smiled to herself as River hugged Harry. That surprised Harry a bit, but he quickly reciprocated the warm hug with a huge grin.
“You and mumma are together like daddy and Sandra?” River asked and Harry looked up to Y/N, she nodded.
“Yeah, we are together. Is that alright with you?”
River smiled and nodded, “Only if you watch Toy story with me.”
As time went on, River got more comfortable with Harry and vice versa. He didn’t call him dad or anything, nobody would force him to. But they do have special nicknames for each other and River once called Harry his best friend — which totally melted Y/N’s heart.
Harry is a such a great step dad. Y/N could ask for anyone better. He constantly supports Y/N and River in everything, and is just the best person to be around.
Harry and Y/N got married two years into their relationship when River turned six.
It’s been a tough year for River, since he just started school and is finding it hard to make friends. Y/N has talked to the school and they’ve said that this is very normal, and they’re going to encourage him and look after him every step of the way. Y/N has been looking for play therapists for days, but she’s still not sure on the idea.
But River has been acting out. Taking it out on Y/N and not being very nice to her. Harry hates it, he’s tried to tell him off in the nicest way possible, but he’s just not cut out for being bad cop. Usually Y/N says she can handle it, and she does.
But today was different.
After dropping River off at school Y/N and Harry decided to go out for brunch. Y/N hasn’t been herself with River in a mood, so Harry wanted to treat his wife to something nice. Something to cheer her up a little.
“Nice to see you smiling,” Harry said kissing her temple.
“Just worried about him. He’s never been like this before.”
“How about I talk to him? Tell him his behaviour is unacceptable. I hate seeing you so upset, baby.” Harry said and Y/N sighed pecking his lips.
“His dad is away on a work thing, so I guess me and you and can talk to him together? I just don’t want him to think this behaviour is ok, but I just wish his dad was here more often” Y/N stressed, Harry pulled her chair closer to his, placing both of his hands on her cheeks calming her slightly.
“We’ll talk to him after dinner. Together.”
And so dinner finally came and Harry was a little nervous, he’s not going to lie. Usually if Rivers being bold Y/N handles it, but he’s not usually like this — but they get it, going to big school is a huge change. River just needs to know his behaviour is not acceptable, but if he ever needs to talk about anything then they’ll be here.
“River, Harry and I need to talk to you.” Y/N said as River tried to disappear up to his room.
River shrugged and continued to walking.
“Buddy, your mums talking to you” Harry said placing a hand on Y/N’s hand. River pouted, but still stood in his spot. “Why don’t you come back over and sit with us?” Harry said and River shook his head. Y/N sighed placing a hand on her forehead, blinking away the tears.
“Fine, we’ll do this here then.”
“There’s something going on with you and we want to help. Your behaviour has been unacceptable the last couple of weeks. We just want to know what’s going on, ok? Mummy and Harry are here to help.”
River groaned and walked towards the table. “I don’t want to talk.” He said and Y/N nodded.
“That’s ok. You don’t have to talk to us right now. But you need to know that you can’t be cheeky with us like that anymore. It’s upsetting, River. If it keeps going on, they’ll be punishments and you don’t like them do you?” Y/N said trying to reason with him.
River was having absolutely none of this. Harry could tell. He didn’t want to get in the middle of Y/N’s parenting, but he didn’t want them to fight or end up saying something they’d regret.
“Riv, we just want to help-“
“Stop talking to me, you’re not even my real dad. You’ll be out of here in no time” River yelled, running out of the room.
It was quiet and Harry let out a little laugh, Y/N placed a hand on his and started to profusely apologise.
“I’m so sorry, Harry. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, you were just trying to help I get that. I’m so sorry”
Harry shook his head and sighed, “He’s right, i’m not his real dad. Was just trying to deescalate the situation. Bad move on my part” Harry said throwing the napkin on his plate.
“No, this is not on you. You did the same exact thing I would’ve.”
Y/N went to move, but harry put his hand in the air. “He’s angry, let’s just leave him for a bit. Let him calm down, then i’ll go talk to him.”
“You’re a good dad, Harry.” Y/N said kissing his forehead before bringing the plates over to the sink.
Harry let River calm down for about 30 minutes and then made Y/N a cup of tea. He didn’t like her being so anxious. After that, he made his way upstairs to Rivers room. The door had a note on it saying “Harry and mummy keep out”. He laughed to himself, before knocking on the door. There was a small grumble, so harry let himself in and leaned against the door frame. River was playing with his toys like nothing happened.
“Wanna play with me Harry?” River asked passing him a toy.
Harry sighed and sat down next to River.
“You know what you said really hurt my feelings?” Harry said and River pouted.
“And you’re behaviour has really upset mummy. Made her cry.” Harry said and River put down his car toy. “Just don’t like the school. Makes me nervous.” River said and Harry nodded placing the boy in his lap.
“And why does it make you nervous?”
“Because no one wants to be my friend, Harry.”
Harry sighed and kissed Rivers head.
“You know, me and mummy are going to go up to the school and yell so loud at the teachers” Harry joked and River giggled into harry’s chest.
“Harry?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry i said you’re not my real dad. You are my dad.” River said and Harrys eyes filled up with tears.
“I love you, River”
“Love you too”
“Now let’s go give mumma a kiss before she gets jealous.”
453 notes · View notes
blessednereid · 3 years
Text
Pity the Living
Daniel Sharman x Reader Series
A/N: The Much Requested, and By Requested, I mean @rogershoe wanted me to write this, MY DANIEL SHARMAN FANFICTION!!!!!! The character that Y/N plays is based on my OC for FTWD and is not an actual character in FTWD. Basic Premise of the setting for this chapter is that they're in high-school/ secondary school. But for the majority of the story(minus flashbacks) it's set in 2016/17 when s3 of FTWD was filmed.
Story Summary: When (Y/N) (L/N) reunites with a high-school friend on the set of the job she's been working on for the past 2-3 years, not only is she excited to work with the guy who inspired her to go into acting, but to hear about what he's done since she's seen him. But the more they talk, the more she realizes, this reunion is not going the way she had planned.
CW: Cursing? brief mention of alcohol, anxiety, mentions of food, fake dagger, fake blood, bets,
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Career Day
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Most of the students around you were chorusing to the tune of your school anthem, but not you. You had heard the melody and sung it almost a million times. Whether you were exaggerating or not, not even you knew. Instead, you were whispering and laughing with one of your best friends, Daniel Sharman.
You met Daniel when you first came to the school. You didn't know many people. You didn't even know yourself in this place. It was a completely foreign experience, but he stuck by your side and showed you around.
Since then, you had made friends, joined the swim team, learned your way around the school without ending up in the boys' restrooms instead of the girls' ones. Despite not needing Daniel to show you around anymore, he still provided plenty of comedic support and pick-me-ups and was a great mate all around.
Your teacher had just finished introducing all the parents who were presenting at career day. The assignment being after the presentations were finished, you were supposed to think about what you wanted to be in the future. You had no idea what you wanted to be. But of course… Daniel did.
"An actor."
"An actor?" he nodded. "Like Macbeth?"
"No, Macbeth is a character. An actor is a person who plays the character."
"Why an actor?"
"Dunno. Just seems right."
You frowned. "Huh, that's nice. Knowing what you want to be."
"You could always try acting. It's worth a shot."
"Hah, if I ever tried acting, it would probably be when I'm old, senile, and look like Betty White."
"Oh, come on. You're a great actress!"
"What's that supposed to mean, Sharman?" you gasped.
"Just that you tell fibs and stories as if they were the truth. That's all acting is."
"I DO NOT!"
"How did you convince your mum that your dog jumped onto the table and ate the cake without making any noise last weekend, then?" You opened your mouth to speak before closing it.
"Cat got your tongue?" he teased.
"Shut up, Sharman."
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L/N Residence
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You and Daniel were both swimming in the pool in your backyard when Daniel asked you the question.
"Did you think about it?"
Still floating, you asked, "About what?"
"Acting."
You laughed incredulously. "You were serious?"
"Of course I was." He swam closer to you and pulled your leg down, making you flop around and splash water.
"WHAT THE HELL!"
"Was just trying to get your attention," he remarked innocently.
You coughed. "You had it."
"Picture this," he waved you off. "Us, on the red carpet-"
"Who's red carpet?"
"Does it matter? We'll be each other's dates anyways."
"Why is that?" you asked.
"Because we're best friends."
"What if one of us has a boyfriend or girlfriend?"
He shrugged. "Ok, whatever. We're on the red carpet separately. It's both of ours red carpet-"
"So, does that mean we're in a movie together?"
"Yes, Y/N," he muttered exasperatedly.
"But that's impossible?"
"Why do you say that?"
You leaned closer to his ear. "BECAUSE I'M NOT BECOMING AN ACTOR."
He jumped away from you, proceeding to splash you with water.
"Mark my words. I know talent when I see it."
You sighed. "Could this just be you not wanting to be lonely in the acting world?"
He jutted his lip and spoke in a whiny voice. "Maybe…"
You laughed before splashing a giant wave of water at him. While he still had water in his eyes, you dove under and pulled him down.
He flailed around before his head popped up, and he calmed down.
"WHAT THE HELL!"
"PAYBACK, SHARMAN!"
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Announcement
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The intercom gave a heavy buzz, and static-y noises ran amok over the building before a voice actually came through the speakers.
"Hello, Teachers, Students, and Faculty. Welcome back to school. We hope that you all enjoyed your holidays and got the rest you needed to pay attention in class today," the last part was passive. Your principal gave more announcements for clubs and sports around the school, such as upcoming games or reminders for students to buy the school yearbook.
You were nodding along interested, or looking for interest really when something caught your best friend's attention.
"The school will also be hosting its first-ever play, Romeo and Juliet. Interested people should report to the music room before the end of the week to receive information."
You saw Daniel's eyes widen only moments before he spoke up. "Hey," he waved at you. "You should audition!"
"Daniel, are you insane?"
He chuckled, "No, but I think you'd like it."
You tried arguing, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. "You're the one who said you didn't know what you wanted to do after you graduated. Doing this cannot hurt."
"Yeah, it can't hurt until I trip on my costumes and break my neck!"
"That rarely ever happens," he said exasperatedly. "Ok, how about this? You audition, and if you end up getting a role and actually doing the play, I'll give you fifty pounds."
You squinted. "Do you even have fifty pounds to give me?"
"Do you even have to ask," he feigned shock in the accusation? You gave a sour face before he truthfully answered. "Fine, I don't have it now. But I will by the time the play comes around."
"What do I get just for auditioning?"
"I'll convince my mum to make that cake you like."
"Fine."
"BUT!" he exclaimed. "You have to audition for Juliet."
"You're kidding?"
He laughed. "No, I'm not. You have to audition for Juliet."
"I hate you," you mumbled before sighing a whispered 'fine.'
He gave a toothy smile. "Then we have a deal."
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Auditions
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You reluctantly walked onto the stage, Daniel's widening grin so visible in the audience. He said that he only put his name on the audition sheet so he could watch the auditions. He would've already been gone by the time it was his turn.
"Hello, My name is Y/n L/n, and I am auditioning for Juliet," your lips pressing into a straight line after saying the sentence.
You stammered through your first few lines. "Sh-Shall I speak ill of him— that is my husband?" You said with a laugh.
"Ah," you paused and clicked your tongue. "Poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name… When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?"
You said your following line in an accusatory manner. "But wherefore, villain... didst thou kill my cousin?" you said, though your voice squealed trying to pronounce 'didst.' "That villain cousin would have killed my husband."
"Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring!" Your voice rose and fell several octaves. "Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy." Fake tears spring to your eyes, your voice cracked, and you began slowly falling against an invisible wall.
You looked down at your paper for what to say next. "My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband. All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?" You wiped your cheeks dramatically.
"Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, That murd'red me. I would forget it fain;" your lips quivered, and you sucked in deep, heaving breaths before speaking your line.
"But O, it presses to my memory. Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners' minds! 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banishèd!" You shouted.
You stood back up in a startling jump, and with a proud smile, you said triumphantly, "And Scene!"
The directors and some students in the audience, especially Daniel, gave a round of applause before the director dismissed you.
You took the steps to the stage and sat next to Daniel as the director called the next student to audition.
"You were amazing! The director might as well have given you the role right then and there."
You laughed, "Hang on, charmer. There were a bunch of Juliet's who literally said that entire thing so… fluently. I stammered through the whole thing."
"But you showed more emotion than anyone else. You only had a week to prepare. The actual show will be like child's play."
"They want people who can memorize and recite. The emotion can be added later, but it's worth nothing if they forget their lines."
"There is such a thing called improvising for a reason," he reassured.
"Who in their right, bloody minds wants to improvise Shakespeare?"
He turned his head and chuckled before waving a five-pound note in front of your face. "Here, I got to go before they call me, but you earned this at least."
"Five pounds for being forced to audition for a stupid play so you can prove a point? Wow, you must really fancy me, huh, Sharman?" you said sarcastically.
"Goodbye, L/n," he whispered before sneaking out the back door of the auditorium.
"Alright, next up. Daniel Sharman!" The director shouted your friend's name a few more times before giving up.
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Headmasters Office
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A week after your audition, you were called to the headmasters' office. Thus is the cause of the curious looks from your classmates. Oohs and Aahs flooded your ears as you grabbed your bag and headed out the door to the front of the school.
When you got to the front of the building and went into the headmasters' office, you saw the Theatre director, Ms Parker, standing behind the desk. "Headmaster Leo allowed me to use his office to do this. Isn't that cool?"
Ms Parker was one of the younger teachers in school. She was twenty-four, and this was her first year teaching after receiving her bachelor's degree in education and a master's degree in music production. A fact she could astoundingly ramble about for fifteen minutes. As proven at the auditions.
"I didn't want to call you to the theatre room. That would be too predictable, correct?" You'd come to realize she was a very eccentric woman. "I have called you in here to inform you that you have been selected to perform in this year's play of Romeo and Juliet."
A wave of shock coursed through your body, and you were sure it reflected on your face. "Are you sure?"
"Darling, I'm positive!- your audition was totally spectacular! So brilliant-in fact- that I am completely sure in my choice to make you our female lead- Juliet!"
"What!" Your eyes widened into a blank stare. Your thoughts were running rampant in your mind. You thought that performing on the stage would be a breeze when you weren't the lead.
"Ms Parker, I didn't actually want the part of Juliet! It's just that my friend dared me to audition for Juliet! Is there no way I can get a smaller part? I'm no Juliet. The show would be ruined," you rambled.
The directors' facial expressions softened, "Darling, you are the only choice. None of the other people who auditioned can even compare to the amount of passion you produced in that audition. I am determined to have you as our Juliet."
You whimpered out an "Ok." Professors had a strange way of convincing you to do extra credit assignments or things that aren't necessary.
"We have a chemistry read for you and a few of our other choices for Romeo after school today. Do you need to contact a parent to let them know where you'll be?"
"Uh, yes, please."
After you made your call, you walked back to your classroom with shaky hands. The class period was almost over, but you had to tell Daniel that you had gotten a part in the show. Not just any part- THE PART!
You shuffled into the classroom reluctantly. All eyes were on you as every student had assumed you'd been in trouble. Either suspended, expelled, or told your parents were going to have a sit-down with the headmaster.
You took your seat next to Daniel before taking out a piece of paper and writing out a note, encompassing the words, "I got the part!"
You slid the sheet discreetly onto his desk. When he read it, his eyes widened, and he quietly moved his hands toward yours, beckoning for a high five.
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First Rehearsal
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After the chemistry read, the role of Romeo was given to a kid named James Mercer-Allen got the part. Though it was more because the directors were starting to become tired.
The next day was the first rehearsal. Swimming season was last semester, so there was no clash in schedules with the play.
"Alright, this rehearsal is to get acquainted with the stage, your fellow actors, and directors," she insisted. "Now, let's introduce ourselves. Can our Romeo please stand up?"
James stood up and gave a brief introduction. You were called on next. You stated your name, "I was on the swim team last semester, and I'm in my thirteenth year. I hope I can do this role justice."
More students stood up to introduce themselves. The entire process took more than thirty minutes.
The next thing to happen was that the rest of the students were called to recite lines for various roles. The only parts that had been cast preliminarily were Romeo and Juliet.
You and James had sat on the wooden stools unless there was a scene going on that needed Romeo and/or Juliet.
By the end of the first rehearsal, the majority of the speaking roles were cast. You went home exhausted but not expecting the conversation that waited for you.
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The Talk
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"We're moving?" you shouted at your parents from your seat across from them in the sitting room. "What do you mean we're moving."
"Honey, your dad got a job in the states, so we have to move," your mother argued.
"But what about school? No school will take me in the middle of the year, and it's my last year of secondary school. I don't want to spend the rest of my last year knowing nobody."
Your dad, the man of the hour, spoke up. "Dear, we're moving at the end of the year. After school ends."
"But- What about Uni?"
"You said you were taking a sabbatical year!"
"Yes, so I could intern in London!"
"Can't you intern in California?" Your mother whined.
"We're going to California? It's the furthest state?"
Your dad attempted to reassure you but failed. "Darling, it won't be that bad. Maybe you'll like it there more than you like it here!"
"I could never like anywhere more than I like it here!"
You agreed to go to your room and spent the rest of the day there. Later on, after you finished moping, you ringed up your closest friends to tell them you were moving. You did that until you were so tired you fell asleep on the phone with Sarah before you even called Daniel.
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Confrontation
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"Why am I hearing from everyone besides you that you're moving?" Daniel appeared out of thin air behind you, and the accusation was an assault on your conscience.
You could lie and tell him that you wanted to reveal that to him in person, or you could just tell him the truth- say you fell asleep. Mix-and-Match? You ended up just telling the truth. "I fell asleep when I was making some of my other calls. I was going to tell you, I swear!"
"Why didn't you call me first. I'm your best friend?"
"That's why! It was too hard. I kept putting it off and putting it off and putting it off because I didn't want to tell you, I don't want it to be true, and telling you of all people would make it feel real."
"Why can't you stay for Uni?"
"I already told my parents I was taking a gap year. I didn't apply to any colleges."
"Crap!" he sighed. "Ok, well, we're going to have to make the most of it. And! You're getting a going away party!"
"Daniel, I don't need-"
"No debate! You are getting a going away party!"
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Opening Night
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Four months later, after all the rehearsals and memorizations of lines. After much running around the entire film department, it was finally opening night, and your nerves were shot.
You were scrambling all morning to find everything you needed. All your costumes were at the school, but you still needed to bring your black leotard, skin-coloured tights, and wear your hair in an up-do style.
You decided to do your skincare routine, but your panic got the best of you, and you forgot what every single product was used for.
Daniel came over and helped you get ready but found you practically hyperventilating.
Your parents drove you both to the theatre, and when Ms Parker told you that Daniel couldn't be backstage, you promptly told her that he was your emotional support. After much arguing, she finally let him backstage.
Around an hour before showtime, the director told Daniel that he had to go wait in the audience if he already bought his ticket or that he had to go do it now.
Before he left, he gave you a pep-talk. "Hey, so one time, I was in this play, and the idea was that I was expelled, and there was a piece of paper I had to give my 'mother,' but I lost it. So we had to improvise, but I couldn't find the paper, and I felt horrible. So just know, even if you forget your lines, you must improvise, and remember, it still probably won't compare to the embarrassment I felt that day. So you can laugh at my humiliation. "
You chuckled, "I will. Ok, go before you get in trouble."
"Ok, me, our parents and all your friends will be in the front row. I've already reserved the entire row. I brought a whole bag of jackets just for that reason!"
"You can't do that," you said in between cackles.
"For you, I'll do anything," he grinned.
A few hours later and the show was almost done. "What's here? A cup, closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end," you wept.
"O, churl! Drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to die with thine restorative." You leaned over James and let your hair fall to the side of your head to cover your face. You pulled back without actually kissing James.
"Thy lips are warm."
A whispery voice came from offstage, "Which way?" The cue for you to take the poison, which was actually cranberry juice.
"Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!" You grabbed the dagger and brought it near your chest. "This is thy sheath;" you drew the fake knife back three inches from your chest and stabbed it to where the bag of more cranberry juice was and punctured the bag. 'Blood' soaked through your dress. "There rust, and let me die." You fell dramatically onto the altar and waited for the scene to end as the crowd cheered.
After the show, you dashed into the crowd where your friends and family waited for you. Ovations and Applauses were passed, lauded boxes of chocolates and gorgeous roses were given.
When you got to Daniel, he practically tackled you with a hug. "I actually thought you died for a split second. The blood looked so real."
"Daniel, most people don't bleed that fast, do they?"
"I don't know but fear kicked in, and I couldn't make sense of anything."
You grinned and almost went to your parents before Daniel grabbed your arm. "You don't have a date to the Leavers ball, do you?"
"No, I don't. Why?"
He sighed. "Well, I was thinking that you could go with me. I don't have a date either."
You squinted, thinking there was some ulterior motive behind his actions. "Ok, I'll go with you if you give me the money you owe me before then."
"It's right here," he smiled.
Your face scrunched up, but you reluctantly agreed. You only had a month of school left, and you might as well spend it having fun with your friends.
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The Leavers Ball and the Getaway Party
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You were dressed in a light blue, pleated, Mikado prom dress that cut off at mid-thigh. You had black wedges on your feet and a black pearl-beaded bracelet on your arm.
You were wearing a half-up, half-down style that framed your face and a silver necklace with a circle-shaped diamond.
You were sitting in the parlour when Daniel rang the doorbell. He was ten minutes late.
"Sorry," he said when your dad answered it. "I know I'm late. I was picking up Kat and James."
Kat and James were your and Daniel's respective friends who'd started last year after you and Daniel introduced them.
"Hi," you popped out of the shadows. "Alright, Mom, Dad, we're late, so we're just going to get goi-"
"Wait! I have to take pictures! Go get Kat and James."
"No, Mom. No pictures!"
"It's only right. I just want a few. We can take it outside."
You sighed but reluctantly caved into your mother's will.
The four of you took pictures outside of Daniel's Jeep Wrangler. You took ones with silly faces, just girls, just boys, and ones with all four of you before your parents allowed you to leave.
You were forty minutes late, and the ball was already in full swing by the time you got there.
You got on the dance floor immediately because one of your favourite songs was playing, but the DJ switched the song as soon as you found a decent spot. It was a slow song. You chuckled, and Daniel put his hands on your waist.
"Well, this is awkward."
A few minutes later, Daniel posed an interesting question.
"Did you know that I had a crush on you when you first came to school?"
"Uh, you stammered. "No, I didn't know that."
"Yeah, I did. It was short, though. Surface-level."
"Oh," you said. "Should I take offence to that?"
"What?" His eyes widened in realization with what he said. "No, that's not what I meant. You have an amazing personality. I just meant that… I just meant I like you more as a friend than to ruin that with any of those feelings."
"Oh, ok. You wouldn't have, though."
"I wouldn't?"
"No, everyone needs an ego boost every once in a while."
"Haha!"
"And besides, I've had feelings for you at one point too. But it was very cliche, so I tried to shake it as hard as I could."
"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows. "And did you?"
"Like I said, as hard as I could. If it's still there somewhere, it's buried very deep, so much so that I was embarrassed."
"Embarrassed to like me?"
"I mean embarrassed to try and make my life seem like some movie."
"Oh, well, if you did, it would've just made you that much better as an actress. Speaking of that, would you consider acting in the least?"
"Maybe, now that I'm leaving, it's basically the last thing I have to connect me to you."
"No," he said, pointing to your bracelet. "You have that."
You had forgotten that it was Daniel who gave it to you, but the realization brought a smile to your face. "Oh yeah, I'll never take it off."
Later on, long before the ball ended, you saw many of your friends leaving.
"Hey, are you ready to go?" Daniel approached you.
"Where is everyone going?"
He wriggled his eyebrows. "Afterparty!"
"But it's not over?"
"Quit being a party popper and just come with us, L/N!"
You gave in, something you did a lot, and you all started driving. When you got there, you realized you were at Daniel's house.
"The afterparty is at your house?" you asked.
"Well…" James answered.
Kat joined in. "It's really an afterparty!"
"This is your going away party!" Daniel finished.
"But I'm not going away for another month."
"Well, now you have an entire month for people to give you gifts and stuff, and you don't have to worry about the party!" He reasoned.
"But why did it have to be after the Leavers ball?"
"Because you're already in a dress, and it has to be a surprise! Surprise!" Kat exclaimed.
"Alright, fine!"
The entire night you partied and danced, and though you didn't drink alcohol, plentiful amounts of pop and mocktails were passed around. The music was a delight to your ears with all your favourite songs. There were chips and pizza with all your favourite toppings.
"This party is awesome!"
Daniel grinned. "Well, I am an amazing party planner if I do say so myself."
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Airport
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Daniel's parents drove your family to the airport. Your parents had sold the car. Your dad would return in a week to close a deal on the house. Everything was official, and now you were leaving.
You got out of the car, and the tears forcefully began to fall.
"I'm really gonna miss you, jerk," you said disdainfully to Daniel.
He chuckled. "I'm going to miss you more."
"Impossible!"
He wiped the fallen tear from your eye, and for a moment, you could see every single multi-coloured speck in his eyes and noticed how sometimes they looked blue, and at others, they looked grey or green.
You noticed the curvature of his smile and the chisel of his jawline.You saw the hurt in his eyes that said, 'why do you have to go? You're killing me,' and wanted to never move from that position.
He continued to rub the tears that fell onto your cheek, and the sad moment was as sheltered as it could be. You felt safe with him, in his arms, just looking at his face and being reminded of how he comforted you in a place that felt as familiar as Oz felt to Dorothy.
"What am I gonna do without you?" you whispered.
"Get at least one acting job, get an assistant and an agent, I'll do the same thing, and then either one of us has our assistants reach out to our agents, so we get back in touch in case we ever lose touch."
He sounded so grave that you couldn't help but laugh. "That's assuming I do become an actress, Daniel."
"You're right," he whined. "But don't forget me."
"I promise."
And you tried to keep that promise. Throughout your first year, you interned at UCLA, working in the lab. You then applied to go to school there, and you still tried to keep Daniel in your mind. Maintaining a social life on campus combined with schoolwork already wasn't easy. However, you still wouldn't let yourself forget your best friend.
It wasn't until you entered your senior year and you were about to graduate that he started to wane in your memories. The things you did together became obsolete as new friends and memories replaced the old. The things he taught you were thrown out to make space for the new lessons you learned each day.
Even when you did become an actress, you never really remembered why you decided to. You remembered that your friend pushed you to do that play, but it was almost ten years ago, and for the life of you, you couldn't remember his name.
But you did do it, first as an extra, then a body double, and then you started getting l roles on smaller shows. But your big break was getting a quasi-lead role on the spin-off of a big television show, The Walking Dead. For two years, you enjoyed going to conventions and playing the complex character, Valeria Bishop, and you thought you had it all figured out.
But life has a funny way of coming full circle and throwing you a curveball that knows you off course and changes your life.
107 notes · View notes
honeyhenry · 3 years
Text
Sweet as Pie
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With some much needed time off, and excitement crisp in the air, you had flown over to Jersey with your husband Henry for Christmas to stay with his family, and they had been delighted to have you both back on his homeland. You settled in to Henry’s old room, unpacking all of the gifts you had brought for his family. You knew his nieces and nephews were going to love you even more when they saw what would be lying for them under the grand Christmas tree in the living room. Secretly, you were their favourite - not that they’d ever tell their poor Uncle Henry.
The large home is tidy, but scattered with family members in every room, all feeling at home in the place where Henry and his brothers grew up. You’d been able to catch up with the relatives you didn’t often see, and promise to spend some quality time together over the holidays.
It was so sweet to watch all the children’s faces light up on Christmas morning. You were glad that you and Henry could be spared an extra few moments in bed, being the only childless couple in the house. Yet moments later, Kal had leapt onto the bed - much to Henry’s annoyance; “down Kal, careful now” -  as soon as he had heard the pattering of his small friends’ feet out in the hallways. And what Kal wanted, you usually gave him.
Which is why, at 6.45am, Kal dragged you and in turn, dragged Henry down to the living room where the rest of the family sat, with the kids lit up like the Christmas tree that their plethora of presents laid under, grinning to their bleary eyed parents who’d barely had a wink of sleep on the cold winter morning.
“You’d think after 6 years it gets easier” you’d heard someone murmur, and so you’d decided to put the kettle on for those poor souls. Luckily for you, 45 minutes later, you’re able to snuggle back into bed with Henry, warming your feet on his legs to annoy him. You kiss the offended pout right off his face, before feeling his beefy arms wrap around your waist. It’s the last thing you had recalled, as you dozed off in his arms only seconds later, feeling his fingertips rub against your hip softly.
------
The kitchen was bustling with about 10 bodies all completing their various tasks; cooking, washing, baking, roasting, timing and tasting. Well, you had kicked your husband out of the kitchen for sneaking a taste of your dessert before it was ready, chastising him out of the door. 
“You can either help properly or go and play with your siblings” you had bargained while he’d grinned, leaning against the doorframe. He raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down like you were a pastry he was keen to ravish himself; “But who is going to compliment the chef?”
With that, you’d folded your arms across your chest, blushing at his words. The cheek of that man was not lost on you, and it still got you every single time. 
And you loved him for it.
------
The meal was a total success. A wonderful soup starter, followed by a small appetiser, and then the most magnificent turkey. Feeding over 20 people - now probably closer to 30 if you were to include the children who were growing up so quickly in front of your eyes - had proven to be difficult, but it was a challenge the family had clearly tackled before.
You had been so excited to prepare the desserts, and present your dish. However, halfway through the day, somewhere between the main course, watching your nephews with their new toys, and the dessert course of the delicious homemade Christmas feast, you’d fallen asleep on the sofa completely tuckered out. Your legs rested on Henry’s lap as he’d covered you with a hand-knitted blanket that he’d once slept with as a boy. Henry’s mother speaks up, careful not to wake you. She has a gleam in her eye, not that you or even Henry notice, too wrapped up in your own cozy sleepy bubble together by the fire.
“Dessert can wait” his mother says to the gaggle of children and adults swarming the living room, “go out and get some fresh air.”
She turns to the children, specifically.  “Do not disturb your Aunt, okay?”
------
Your cheeks are warm as the fire heats the living room, and after a particularly competitive game of rugby with his brothers, nieces, and nephews, Henry quietly checks on you. He had left the room earlier when you had shifted your legs slightly, taking the opportunity to get some fresh air himself. It had indeed been a long day. His brothers had questioned your tiredness briefly, making sure you were well. With the knowledge that you were simply sleepy, they had begun to joke that you obviously just couldn’t keep up with the rest of the Cavills - despite having married into the family for 2 years and been around for the holidays for 4. Henry had promised them that you were fine -  that you still weren’t used to the long trip back to the island for the holidays. 
Not exactly a fib, he’d thought.
Kal was laid beside you, loyal as ever, watching out for anyone who may disturb your rest, sending a rumbling growl towards anyone who approached. Except Henry. 
While checking on you now to make sure you were still comfortable and resting well, he smiled, taking a picture of you wrapped up cosily by the fire, at peace in his childhood home, completely at rest and ease with him and his closest relatives. Petting Kal softly, he thanks him for looking after his mama so well.
“So?”
His mother, he hears. She’s alone for once as there was no one rushing to check for updates on food, no enquiries about the house, or any funny stories woven into a ten minute tale from her grandchildren. She’s alone, with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised.
Henry stands up straight. There’s nothing that can wipe the tremendously cheesy grin off of his face. He can’t even speak. Even after dessert had finished, you were the one who would be doing all the talking, the telling, the explaining.
“Mum-”
“Henry. She’s not ill. and i know you’re sensible enough to not be up the whole night with your wife...at least under my roof. So…?”
He looks over at your peaceful form, and then scratches his neck, blushing at being caught out, but also ecstatic that he can finally say something about it.
“She’s eleven weeks. We’re expecting a baby next summer”
With that, his mother almost leaps with joy over to her son, who she hugs closely despite the obvious height barrier. 
“Oh i knew it, I knew it! I’m so happy for you Henry, for you both. I thought, ‘She normally loves that bread for starter’, hm? Oh my boy! A father!”
With her proclamation, Henry finds that he has tears in his eyes as he holds his Mother close, finally glad that it’s not just a little secret between the two of you - well, the two of you and Kal, who had already been a stellar protector and big brother.
“We had planned to tell everyone after dessert…we’ve known for nearly 2 months and it’s been killing me that I couldn’t say. We’ve had to be so careful-“ 
“Henry?” he hears your quiet voice from across the room, as Kal’s collar jingles. He turns to see you sitting up from your nap with Kal booping his nose at your stomach. You’re scratching at his head, thanking him for being such a wonderful boy, while looking up at the two Cavills.
It takes less than a second for you to realise what is happening in front of you. Your jaw drops and louder than your previous call, you exclaim, “Henry you told her?”
“She worked it out! Practically forced it out of me.” he grins, holding his hands up as his Mother pretends to smack his arm.
You stand, watching not to step on Kal or any stray Legos that your nephews have left strewn across the floor, and walk over to hug her. She’s been so caring and kind since you’ve joined the family all those years ago, and you know that she will be an incredible Grandma to your little one. 
Breaking apart from the hug, you find Henry pulling you to him carefully, letting you melt into his side. Kissing your forehead he asks, for your ears only, “Good sleep? No pains? Sickness?” He has a small crease of worry between his brows and you always do your best to soften that small tense area with regular updates and sweet kisses.
“Yeah i’m okay honey” you reassure him, patting your stomach, “this ones growing up a storm in there”. 
And they really are. Henry’s mother cannot believe she’s seeing it, and mostly can’t believe she missed it. You’re already showing, but a large loose sweater -probably one of Henry’s old ones that has since become yours - over your dress, has hidden a sizeable roundness to your stomach that you were excited to finally show.
“How did I miss this!” Your mother-in-law gasps, causing you to grin, and Henry’s chest to puff with utter pride and excitement.
“I know it’s bordering on having too much to eat, but we’ve been hiding it for a couple weeks now. Doctor thinks that baby’s gonna be big. Just like their daddy.” You explain, giving your stomach another gentle rub, surprised to find Henry’s hand there on it already.
If you’d thought Kal was protective, Henry was another thing altogether.
He’s still grinning as you kiss him, before you pull away to speak more to his mother about all the details, especially when you’ll be coming over to Jersey again. Kai follows you closely, making sure you’re staying safe. He’s known that there’s something up with his mama, there has been for weeks, especially with the way his master looks after you now.
Henry, deciding to be sneaky while the two women in his life are currently distracted chatting, takes another taste of the dessert you made, now set out on the kitchen. The worst part is, he thinks he’s got away with it.
He realises he doesn’t the second you smack his hand from the dessert.
“Strike two Mr Cavill! Step away from the pie.”
“And if I don’t?” he raises an eyebrow, watching your reactions as you hold a butter knife in your hand trying to look at least vaguely threatening - failing miserably. “Maybe i’ll strike out tonight, hm?” he continues with that wonderfully mischievous glint in his eye, taking cautious steps towards you. “You look even sweeter than your pie with this little bump here. Maybe I’ll have a taste later after all.” 
Henry’s mother had not been right in her assumptions, for under her roof, you and Henry were not sensible at all.
------------------------------------------------------
please let me know what u think! i am v nervous to post but excited!!!
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meichenxi · 3 years
Text
tldr; autistic parents are fantastic and fuck you if you think otherwise, signed, a disaster queer adhd daughter
So on the back of a lot of negative stuff I've been coming across recently I wanted to take a moment and talk about my dad. He is autistic and chronically ill, and has been unable to hold a job down since I was eight or nine. He only ever responds with brutal, crushing honesty when I ask him how he is (and as he's chronically ill, the answers are rarely fun); he doesn't have any close relationships with any other adults and is so afraid of crowds he sprints through them leaving the children to run after him as best they can; he very rarely told me I was doing well and never seemed to understand my point of view, much less my mother's; he would never talk about anything other than bloody knitting, rocks or conservation, he could eat approximately 0.5 foods but also had no job to buy anything better; he frequently goes around naked because 'it feels nice' causing me to SCREAM -
He's my favourite person in the entire world.
Growing up, there were so many things he taught me. His special interests were geology, nature conservation, wildlife gardening, taiji, mythology and knitting. When we were kids, we went out for long walks for miles and miles in the drizzling British countryside - when I was young, my brother and mum would lag behind and me and my dad would skip ahead, jumping over the rocks, and he'd tell with great excitement why THAT twisty line of quartz was actually less exciting that this outcrop here; he'd teach me about the Salmon of Wisdom and the folk that live over the sea and never grow old, and impress on me with utter seriousness how I must never tell a stranger my name unless they tell me theirs first; he'd sit down with me and draw patterns for a jumper he was thinking of in the mud with a stick, and then we'd have a sword fight. I never understood half of the things he told me, but listened with wonder, because he was my dad, and he knew everything.
When I was a little older, we made up stories that lasted for hours, and memorised poetry together from Lord of the Rings (because THERE our interests collided with galactic force) and he'd do all of the voices just perfectly. We went one whole summer just quoting LOTR to each other, and it was our little secret: Mum might hear 'Yes,' but only I would hear what came after: 'Yes,' said Frodo, or 'Yes!' cried Boromir. And when I told him my story about a woman who lived in a volcano he listened quietly and told me that that wasn't how volcanoes worked, but that he could help me write it better.
Everybody's autism is different. For my dad, it rendered him completely incapable to work and was paralysing in social situations, but when it was just me and him, he told the most wonderful stories. I wanted to be a geologist just listening to his voice, and then a writer, and then finally someone who understood the land like he did and the sea.
And he made me feel normal. He made me feel heard. With my mum, as much as I loved her, I would get vague noises of assent as she struggled to look after everybody in this damn house, or irritable 'Would you just be quiet for ONE second?' I was a talented kid, and everybody praised me at pretty much everything: but the only person who would consider anything I wrote like it was an adult's writing, with seriousness and criticism, was my dad. He didn't tell me I did well often. Instead he would take my picture, or my writing, and look at it with great seriousness, and ask me WHY the Queen was so intent on kidnapping beautiful princesses in the first place. I could trust him to tell me whether I did something well or not, because he never, never lied. Not to please me, and not to please anyone. It cost him his marriage and his job, but it was a rock of stability in my life : my mother was volatile, frequently furious enough to resort to violence, and she lied and laughed and told us what we wanted to hear, but he was always reliable. If he was angry, we knew.
When I spoke for hours about my languages, he listened, nodded, and then spoke about his plants. It was a perfect give and take because I didn't expect him to care about my languages, and he never expected me to care about his plants. We just cared about the other.
And when I didn't make any friends and couldn't interact with the other children without despair he was always there with a silent offer of a bike ride, or catch in the park. He was always the fittest person I knew, despite his illness. He had lots of grand ideas - once he climbed the tree outside our house and tried to rig up a platform fifteen metres above the ground. After three days he was inconsolable. He wouldn't speak, he just sat there. But a few days later he started drawing up plans and attacked it again, and this time it worked.
My dad is great for a lot of reasons, and difficult for a lot of reasons too. Some of these are just him - but some are specifically related to his autism, and I think it's important that we talk about that too, especially in the context of parenthood. Because we see a lot of positivity about young autistic adults and kids, but older adults are just as valuable and just as in need of support and recognition, particularly because they may have gone through so much. My dad was made to stand in a bucket of urine for three days as a kid to 'pull himself together'. Spoilers: it didn't work.
And I'm not autistic myself, but many of my ADHD behaviours are so much easier around him because he just. gets it. If I don't like a certain food because of the texture, he never buys it again - I don't need to explain myself. We leave all social events early, which is wonderful because he is very stressed and I am either so high on adrenaline I'm in danger of injuring myself or exhausted to the point of not being able to talk. We run through crowds together because he hates crowds and I like the chance to stretch my legs. We don't touch or keep in contact very much, because neither of us see the point or like small talk, and I'm terrible at messaging anyone, but I know (and he knows) as soon as we need each other we're there. We do handstands on the beach together and he points out plants on the way back along with their Latin names. He never bothers me about talking to my friends or stopping clowning and watching my stupid shows or spending ten hours a day on Chinese or Tolkien. He never mocks me for needing space and time after anything. We lie on the concrete together because it's so damned warm and nice and adgshhhhh. We spend hours playing taiji and doing push hands in the kitchen, and our 'love language', if you will, is him trying to throw me to the ground. We both get 100% of our emotional intelligence from books, and in any arguments can use this to great effect. I talk at him for an hour, and then he talks at me for an hour. I know so much about fucking willow trees.
So people who say that autistic parents are cold and incapable of care? My dad was the most sincere, honest and helpful parent a child could have ever asked for. Things were difficult, but it helped me understand that parents too have needs, and that adults are all just grown up kids trying their best. I didn't know why he was different as a kid, and I didn't much care - I just wanted to be a geologist like my daddy.
367 notes · View notes
Note
tma fic recs please ? 🤲🏽
Oooooo yes! I never get asks like this, thank you!
[my tumblr fic recs tag is here for browsing]
I had to put it under a cut because it got...entirely too long barely half an hour into making it, sorry.
Under 5k
means of cartharsis by orphan_account [G] [965]
“You’d think – you’d that at this point nightmares would be second nature for me, hm?” Martin says, forcing a smile even as he tugs the blanket tighter around his trembling shoulders.
It’s meant to be a bit funny. Instead of laughing, though, Jon frowns.
“No,” he says simply, and matter-of-factly wipes the moisture from Martin’s cheeks with a tissue like he’s a crying child.
A Proper Sleepover by Goodluckdetective (scorpiantales) [T] [1.4k]
In a different world, one where Elias is not waiting for them outside the Lonely, everyone has a chance to savor a moment of respite. As much as they can get these days. If only to talk about things that long need to be spoken.
“Basira says we should all sleep in the same room tonight,” Jon says without looking up. “Safer. So we can keep an eye out for intruders and also each other.”
“So we’re having a proper sleepover then?”
Jon scoffs. “Technically we’ve been having a proper one for months.”
where i go, when i go there by rainny_days [T] [1.7k]
Martin wants Jon to hold his hand. Martin doesn't want Jon to hold his hand.
It's complicated.
all the other ways by AptlyNamed [G] [2.2k]
Jon loses his first soul mark when he is eight years old.
a palace from ruin by bibliocratic [G] [2.2k]
"What're you sorry for?” Martin asks.
“I should have asked,” Jon says finally. “I'd never.... you were always so private about him, so I mean, at first I wasn't sure he was even yours, but then – when you, when you went with Peter, and I – he was so small, and I thought he was h-half-dead. S-so I picked him up and I carried him. And I'm sorry.”
interiors by doomcountry [T] [2.7k]
In the doorway, he fumbles with his keys. Their sound is loud in the silent stairwell. You don’t remember getting here.
searching for a light (for a right) by Kalgalen [T] [2.7k]
Some people make the mistake of assuming he's naive about sex, for the simple reason he hasn't dated in a while. Tim has called him a prude, at one point, and implied that he was somehow afraid of the intimacy required by the act; he wasn’t entirely wrong, but this definitely isn’t the reason for Jon's disinterest and general bafflement toward what most people seemed to consider as "what makes them human".
Jon simply hasn't found the right person. That is all it is: high standards, and a reticence to let people in.
(In which Jon finds out society is wrong about what a romantic relationship should be.)
how to plant a garden in rocky soil by treeprince [T] [2.9k]
Sometimes you just need a good pair of hands to work out all the kinks in your life.
Good thing Martin has two.
A Weather In The Flesh by cuttooth [G] [3k]
"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."
*
Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.
I'll bring the motion by callmearctus [T] [3.1k]
A long series of kidnappings and international flights leaves its own special mark on someone. Before the Unknowing, Jon is a mess.
Martin helps.
A Bread Made In Heaven by Againstme [G] [3.3k]
Martin moves over and watches how his boyfriend handles the dough. He's awkward with it, tentative and gentle, as if he's scared of hurting it somehow.
"Is this, uh, am I doing this right?" Jon asks, still slowly stretching out the dough and folding it onto itself.
"Well," he says shifting closer to Jon again, "you could be applying more pressure. Here, let me help you out, dear."
Martin moves fully behind Jon, and reaches around him, putting his hands on top of his boyfriend's. Jon inhales sharply, but doesn't say anything else, just lets Martin's hand rest on top of his.
Martin's hands are bigger, but not big enough to entirely envelop the other's hands, and Jon's hands are much, much warmer than his own are. To see what they're doing, Martin moves his head to look over Jon's shoulder. Though he can't see his boyfriend's face from this angle, he can see how it is slowly growing red at the edge of his vision. He decides not to tease him on it, instead content with letting a smile spread across his face and slowly guiding their joined hands in the proper motion.
Or, Martin teaches Jon how to make bread.
stumbling and spinning by lady_mab [G] [3.3k]
“Things happened,” Jon says demurely, trying to untangle Gerry’s fingers, but it only results in him getting pulled in so Gerry can kiss him properly. “It’s not all that bad.”
“I suppose not,” Gerry says with a sigh, sitting back upright. “You somehow managed to snag an incredible boyfriend out of it.”
It takes a solid few seconds before realization clicks in Martin’s brain. “You mean me?” [...]
“You have to admit, Jon has great tastes,” Gerry teases.
nothing sweeter than local honey by beeclaws [T] [3.4k]
So Tim is content, one arm leaned into the spray, waiting for the water to warm, enjoying the feeling of homecoming underneath the gentle fuzz of jetlag, when he hears gasping, panicked breaths coming from the other room.
Tim and Jon, in the aftermath, relearning how to be okay.
When Words are Inadequate by Mugatu [T] [3.8k]
Meals and the preparation of are, for want of a better word, informative. Fact gathering. A place where they can fill in the gaps of their knowledge of the other.
Jon cooks for Martin, and they learn more about each other.
go softly by doomcountry [T] [4k]
And there is nothing else besides this.
Imago by cuttooth [T] [4k]
“Jon?” he asks tentatively, tightening his grip around the poker as it slips against his sweaty palm. The antennae twitch, and suddenly Martin knows that it’s Jon, the knowledge sliding into his mind in a surge of desperate affection, the same profound love he felt that first time he truly saw Jon in the fog of the Lonely.
“Oh,” he whispers. “It really is you.”
*
Jon changes, but he’s still the same to Martin.
shoreline by bibliocratic [G] [4.1k]
“Martin," Tim says kindly, tipsily, only mildly slurring. "Dearest, dearest Martin. You're wankered, babe. Last train to Stockwell fucked off hours ago because it is now piss off o'clock in the morning, and there's a sofa with your exact name on it at my place. Thought you said you wanted some handsome fellow to take you back to his tonight?”
Or: The OG Archive crew go drinking, Martin comes out, and gets some well deserved TLC. In that order.
get your epitaph right by bibliocratic [G] [4.2k]
Martin's daemon has tried on the shape of dogs and lizards and snakes and horses, and even – once, when he was younger and Mum took him to the seaside, a fish.
Martin's never seen his soul in the dressing of a spider before.
i've known the warmth of your doorways by beeclaws [T] [4.2k]
'I’m always in pain, Jon wants to say, even as he dismisses the thought as melodramatic. Between his growing collection of old wounds and scar tissue, the supernatural hunger for statements that hasn’t been truly satiated in months, and the unpredictable aches and strains his body threw off day by day long before he ever set foot in the Institute, some level of pain and discomfort follows Jon wherever he goes now. He is used to being in pain. He’s not used to someone holding his hand as he suffers through it.'
Jon catalogs the comforts he receives, and wonders how long he will be allowed to keep them.
lay down your weary head by Zykaben [T] [4.6k]
Jon has been running himself ragged, searching for every scrap of information he can possibly find about the Unknowing. He's exhausted and sleep-deprived but he can't bring himself to take a break, not now.
Luckily, Tim and Martin are there to make sure that their boyfriend gets the care and rest he needs.
only the sweetest words remain by bluejayblueskies [T] [4.6k]
This isn't how things are supposed to go, right? Jon remembers those ratty paperbacks from the charity shops, dime-a-dozen romance novels with broken bindings and yellowing pages and words that spoke of love and passion and sexuality in prose that was more than a bit too mature for someone whose age hadn’t yet reached double digits. Stolen glances turn into dinner dates turn into passionate kisses turn into…
Well, he’d never actually read those parts of the books, because it had all seemed so deeply uncomfortable and gross. But he got the picture.
Or, Jonathan Sims, on being loved
5k-20k
and they keep not letting go by Marianne_Dashwood [G] [5k]
It’s an electric feeling, something strange and new and familiar all at once, even though he has been holding Martin’s hand for most of the day. His stomach swoops, like he is standing on the edge of the precipice of realisation and staring into the void of unknowing. But at the same time, he does know. In this instant of contact between them, the last few years of cups of tea and small smiles and momentary glances, of panic and fear and only feeling safe with Martin’s solid presence in the room, despite his paranoia, rush into him, and oh, oh oh.
ready to call this love by yewgrove [G] [5.6k]
How is Martin supposed to tell Jon that he panicked, stupidly, when the lovely old lady down the village asked him what they were doing in this part of the world? Got the shopping! Oh, by the way, we're married now! Whole village thinks we're on our honeymoon, hope you don't mind!
Prenons-nous la main by luftballons99 [T] [6k]
They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.
or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.
This Must Be The Place by cuttooth [T] [6k]
“You said – you said we were going home,” Martin says softly.
“I did,” says Jon, and is grateful that Martin doesn’t comment on him calling the Archives home. “I – I don’t really know where to go. I, uh, I don’t have a flat anymore, I don’t think. We could find a hotel?”
“Let’s go to my place,” says Martin. His hand squeezes Jon’s, more gently than before. Most importantly, Jon notes, he doesn’t let go.
*
Jon and Martin go home for a little while.
Small Things, Simple Acts by ZaliaChimera [T] [6.6k]
Even after leaving London, Jon and Martin are not free, not really. Maybe they never will be.
But for now they can be themselves, and maybe in the end, that's enough.
house by tomatoes [G] [9k]
Martin can take care of himself.
roses, roses, roses by acetheticallyy (judesstfrancis) [T] [9.3k]
Rose scented laundry detergent. Running into Jon in the breakroom. Running into Jon on his way back to his desk. Rose scented detergent. Running into Jon. Roses. Jon. Roses, roses, roses.
a deeply annoying child by ajkal2 [G] [9.6k]
Jon is hiding under the desk.
----
There's a child in the Archives, who shouldn't be there.
Inseparable by voiceless_terror [T] [10.3k]
“You can stay.” The voice interrupts his internal panic, and he looks over to find Jon studiously avoiding his gaze, staring hard at a neighboring bush. Martin wonders what caused his sudden change of heart. “But you have to sit on the other side. And don’t talk to me.”
Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood meet as children. Some things change, others do not.
i'm almost me again, you're almost you by gruhukens [G] [12k]
After a second Jon steps in towards him, close enough that Martin flinches, but all Jon does is put two fingers under his chin with his free hand and raise it until Martin can’t duck away. Jon has never touched him so casually before – at least, not until today, and it raises a lot of thoughts and feelings that Martin is trying very hard not to process.
Much like a lot of other things that have happened, he thinks. Not that it’s horrible or terrifying or numbing like everything else has been: it’s just another thing on the list of things he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.
---
In the wake of the Lonely, there's a lot that Martin doesn't really want to think about.
hello my old heart by firebirdsuite [T] [15.8k]
Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.
Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.
Over 20k
The Kindness of Strangers by TheOestofOCs [M] [23k]
It was easier to treat Jon like a monster when he wasn’t shivering against his back, brokenly humming—wait, was that…
“Are you trying to do ‘Hey, Jude’?” Tim demanded.
Jon stopped, stiffening. “Mm hrmh mm mmh hm,” he said defensively.
“You really can’t hold a tune, can you, boss?”
*
It was just an ordinary walk to a restaurant. Tim had insisted that if they were going to talk, there would be no tape recorders or weird Archives ghosts listening in. A bit of fresh air wouldn’t kill him, Tim had said. What could go wrong?
By the time Jon spots the white delivery van, it’s much too late.
The Stranger kidnaps Jon. Tim comes along for the ride.
Misjudged by ShastaFirecracker [T] [36.5k]
Martin's been a longtime listener of What the Ghost, so when Georgie gives a shoutout to her flatmate's Twitch channel during a Q&A, he checks it out - only to discover that her flatmate is also his most terrifying coworker at his new job. The first time they crossed paths, Jon yelled at him for incompetence. But on the streams, Martin sees an entirely different person - someone fun and relaxed, engaging and unfairly attractive. Over time, Martin begins to find that Jon buried inside his dour, awkward coworker. He also learns to live with the fact that his crush is painfully one-sided... or is it?
if we make it through the night everyone is gonna hear us (Series) by skvadern [Ratings Vary] [42.4k]
In which Sasha survives the NotThem (with a little help from a certain Distortion) and she and Jon spend s2 working together to try and make sense of everything that's happening to them. It goes...interestingly
the garden of forking paths by bibliocratic [T] [49.7k]
Whatever he had predicted might happen, Jon wasn't expecting to survive upon demolishing the Panopticon. He certainly wasn't expecting to be rescued.
Instead, he wakes up in an alternative universe where he's never been the Archivist, and Martin Blackwood doesn't exist.
Martin Blackwood wakes up somewhere else entirely.
it's only forever by lady_mab [T] [50.9k]
“The castle at the center of the labyrinth,” Jon breathes, recalling again the words from one of the past conversations with Martin. “He’s there.”
“Turn back, Jonathan,” the Goblin King says, and Jon is surprised to hear a slight edge of desperation in the tone. “Turn back before it’s too late.”
“I can’t,” Jon answers with the same tone. “You know that I can’t.”
The Goblin King’s grin is gone completely, and he regards Jon with a degree of pity before that melts into resignation.
Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey [T] [53.3k]
"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.
A Home For What Loves You by TheWrongShop [T] [151k]
It was completely fine that Jon was following up on this very normal, non-supernatural statement at midnight on a Friday. He was going to find nothing at all, and then he was going to go home and sleep for fourteen straight hours and feel absolutely no qualms about moving case #0150409 directly into the filing cabinet marked "discredited".
Or; Jon and Martin end up investigating Carlos Vittery's basement and finding the entity formerly known as Jane Prentiss together.
RATED E *MINORS DNI*
A Look And A Voice by cuttooth [E] [6.9k]
“Do you want to have sex with me?” Jon asks bluntly, and for a second Martin can’t breathe.
“It - it doesn’t matter what I - ” he begins valiantly, before Jon interrupts him.
“Because I want to have sex with you, and frankly it doesn’t matter if you think it’s for the wrong reasons. I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. The only thing that matters is if you want to as well.”
*
Martin meets a guy in a bar and takes him home.
Warms The Coldest Night by cuttooth [E] [11k]
"Flame that warms the coldest night Bring to us the waxing Light, Be with us on Solstice Night." Gypsy - Bring Back The Light
There is mistletoe hanging in the doorway to the Archives when Jon gets in.
Curiosity by ShastaFirecracker [E] [11.6k]
“You know that conversation we had the other day about how one of the most important things for queer youth to learn is that it's okay to change their minds, because identity and self-discovery are always fluid?”
Behind him, Martin slipped oven mitts over his hands and pulled open the oven door. The scent of garlic and rosemary flooded the kitchen. “Yeah?” he said.
“I, um... I'd like to revisit the topic of sex.”
At the Interim (Series) by Rend_Herring [E] [41k]
A Measure Outside the Lines and The Residuum
triptych (Series) by Stacicity [E] [44.9k]
A collection of Jon/Tim/Martin fics
a steady hand, a delicate man by callmearctus [E] [52.8k]
Martin is the proprietor and manager of a very discrete and fairly exclusive brothel situated between Belgravia and Chelsea. Blackwood House excels at special requests and pleasing any client.
Except for Jon, who probably has never been pleased a day in his entire life.
Despite that, he still comes back. It eventually begs the question: how do you solve a problem like Jon Sims?
113 notes · View notes
clubyukhei · 3 years
Text
in the mood for love (m)
pairing: wong yukhei x (f) reader
genre: fluff, smut, slice of life, some angst
summary: distance makes the heart grow fonder. in yukhei’s case, it makes him reminisce on all the firsts of your relationship and realise you’re the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. (or: a long-distance relationship au where yukhei savours every moment of your short reunion.)
warnings: unprotected sex, language
tags: established relationship, flashbacks, set in hk, hendery and kunten appear, drunk texting, flirty dialogue, love letters, talks of marriage, pining, a bittersweet ending
word count: 14.6k
a/n: wow, it feels weird to be finally posting this because i’ve been working on this for months. this took way longer than expected and for that i wanna thank my sweet mutuals and anons who have been so patient and encouraging :’) i hope you’re in the mood for fluff and domesticity because this fic is full of it! enjoy! (reposting again bc the original one wouldn’t show up in the tags. tysm if you’ve interacted with that post btw <3)
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--
heaven is in your eyes
bright as the stars we're under
oh, is it any wonder
i'm in the mood for love?
-
why stop to think of whether
this little dream might fade?
we've put our hearts together
now we are one, i'm not afraid
-
if there's a cloud above
if it should rain we'll let it
but for tonight, forget it
i'm in the mood for love
-- 
mornings like this are hard to come by for yukhei.
when the only sounds he can hear are the ticking of a clock and your soft exhalations. when you’re cuddled up to him, your face tucked into the crook of his neck where you breathe warm puffs of air onto his skin every few seconds. 
it’s probably just another one of those dreams that yukhei gets every now and then. the kind he never wants to wake up from, because when he opens his eyes, all he sees is the dull grey ceiling of his dormitory before his bunkmates’ noisy snores snap him back into reality. 
those mornings were the worst. yukhei would give up on going back to sleep. instead, he’d force himself out of bed to wash up and head to the canteen for an early breakfast, all while annoyed that his mind had once again translated his yearning for you into his dreams. he couldn’t help but feel like he was being mocked by his own self. 
but this time, it feels different. 
his back is resting on a bed that’s much comfier than the thin mattress he’s used to back at camp, and he’s awfully snug and cosy under what feels like a thick fleece blanket.
yukhei peels his eyelids open, ready to be met with disappointment again.
the first thing he sees is the sunrise peeking through the curtains, greeting him good morning with a dark orange glow — which is weird, because he’s always up before the sun is. even though his mind is still fuzzy, yukhei has an inkling that he’s not back at camp. so he lifts his head off the pillow and looks around. 
there’s a messy work desk between two huge potted plants; a wall fully plastered with polaroids and pictures; and a clothing rack with clothes that clearly aren’t his but it’s the bra hanging over an armchair that finally tells yukhei that he’s in your bedroom.
he looks down and sighs in relief seeing you in deep slumber next to him. you’re sleeping on your side with a hand absentmindedly resting on his waist, your head tilted as if you fell asleep while gazing at him. your eyes are closed and the look on your face is so peaceful — it’s an image that yukhei wants to keep in his mind forever. 
wrapping an arm around your hips, yukhei gently tugs you closer to him. your eyebrow scrunches in reaction and he panics a little, freezing when your hand lands on top of his. but you turn on your other side and snuggle back against his chest instead, and his lips curl into a lopsided smile at this tiny movement.
yukhei hugs you from behind, nuzzling into your hair and sighing when he gets a whiff of your apple-scented shampoo that he has missed so much. 
just like that, the warmth of your bodies wrapped around each other and the thought of getting to spend the next few days with you — in real life, not just in his dreams — lulls him back to sleep. 
-- 
yukhei would never forget the day he first met you. 
or the sight of you sitting at the back of his mum’s restaurant, sipping on a glass of iced tea as you stared out of the window and silently observed the hustle and bustle of shatin plaza. 
the fact that his usual seat was occupied and that a pretty girl was sitting in it left him speechless, but not annoyed at all. sure, it was his favourite spot. it also unofficially belonged to him, seeing how he sat there nearly everyday doing his homework — but that was years ago. 
yukhei felt like the universe had something up its sleeve when it presented him with such a scenario on a day where he finally managed to pop by his mum’s restaurant and pay her a visit. he rarely popped by on weekdays anymore because of how hectic his academic life was becoming.
“look who it is! our yukhei who keeps growing taller and taller!” 
yukhei smiled shyly as he stepped behind the counter and greeted the longtime staff — aunties who never failed to shower him with all sorts of compliments — and rushed into the kitchen looking for his mum. 
mrs wong was less than pleased when she saw her son, to say the least. the smile on her face lasted for a good minute before she started nagging about how he should’ve gone home to study instead.
“i am going to study! right after i eat.” he whined, shocked that his presence had irritated her so much.
“you always say that, yukhei. but you just play games on your phone!” mrs wong retorted, not looking away from the refrigerator.
yukhei gulped at that statement, unwilling to admit that it was quite true.
“mum, who’s that girl outside? sitting at my table?”
“your table?” she chuckled before looking up at him. 
yukhei watched her make her way towards the kitchen entrance to peek at the stranger outside.
“ah, that’s _____. she comes here often.” she said with a bright smile that even yukhei himself rarely received. “she helped us understand what the tourists were saying, talked to them in english for us a few times now. a very sweet and smart girl.”
if anything, yukhei became more attracted to you at that moment. 
maybe it’s the thought of you helping his mum out while he’s not around — he knew how rude and impatient some tourists could be with language barriers, having personally dealt with them several times — or maybe it’s just the way you entered his life that, for some reason, felt like an important moment to him. 
either way, he already made up his mind about one thing. 
yukhei ended up serving you the pad thai you had been waiting for, warmly introducing himself as the lady boss’ first and older son and striking up a conversation with you that went on longer than he had expected. 
he thought it was bad that he had to control his excitement when you suggested he take the seat opposite yours, but it only got worse as you both began to talk about everything and nothing.
when you smiled, he lost his train of thought.  when you laughed or so much as even chuckled, his chest squeezed around his heart and he wanted to keep hearing the sound of it. and when you listened to him, he had to look away because your attentive gaze on him was truly too much. 
by the time you were done with your meal, yukhei had your number saved in his phone. he offered to walk you out, opening the glass doors for you all gentlemanly as if you had just dined at a five-star hotel restaurant.
“it was nice talking to you, yukhei.” you turned to smile at him just before you stepped outside. “see you again, i guess?” 
“yeah, let’s—um. yeah, see you around.” yukhei stuttered pathetically.
you giggled and waved goodbye to him and mrs wong before heading off. the lady boss had been subtly keeping an eye on you two after her son insisted on waiting your table.
once you were out of view, yukhei sighed, cringing at how nervous he sounded. before you, he had never in his life felt that self-conscious in front of anyone.
“my dear, what was that?” his mum asked with a sly look of amusement on her face. 
yukhei wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole.
“i don’t know, mum.”
all he could think about was seeing you again. 
-- 
when yukhei wakes up again, he’s alone in bed. 
the midday sunlight glares into the room and shines on the empty spot next to him, prompting him to roll away and further into the shade. 
he lies on his side, watching some plant-shaped shadows sway across the wall for a minute before forcing himself out of bed. those extra hours of sleep did wonders for his circadian rhythm and for once he doesn’t feel tired to be awake at all — just bummed that he woke up with you not in his arms.
something in the air shifted after last night. yukhei couldn’t get over the way you jumped into his arms when he appeared at your doorstep, or how you got emotional at his shaky confession as he presented you with the promise ring he had been keeping for so long. 
he had been craving for your presence so much over the past few months that seeing you reciprocate those feelings made him relieved and somewhat clingy. all he wants is to stick by your side every second he has with you before he leaves again. 
so he gets out of bed immediately, walking into your tiny living room where he hears the sound of running water and finds you leaning against the kitchen counter with your back facing him, busily tending to the roses he had gifted you last night. 
yukhei makes his way to you fast. his hands sneak beneath your oversized t-shirt and around your waist, pulling your frame against his front as he places a kiss on your temple. 
“morning,” you say, relaxing into his touch and reaching for the nape of his neck with one hand to tug his face closer to yours. 
yukhei hums in satisfaction when you angle your face perfectly to lock your lips with his in a tender kiss and whines when you attempt to pull away. he wants to taste your lips for a little longer, he’s far from done and you know it too. 
you turn around to face him properly, abandoning the stalks of roses that had your attention earlier. a gasp escapes you when he slides his hands down to your bum and swiftly lifts you onto the counter.
“missed my baby so much,” he mumbles against the juncture of your jaw and neck, relishing in your soft sighs by his ear. 
he doesn’t miss the way your legs hook around his waist to pull him closer or the way your fingertips lightly scratch his scalp as he busily sucks at your skin, determined to leave a trail of love marks for his own appreciation. 
the doorbell rings just as he’s licking over his masterpiece, rudely interrupting the moment. 
“yukhei.” you squeeze his shoulders and yukhei forces himself to pull away.
“who’s that?” he asks, unable to hide the tone of disappointment in his voice. his hands refuse to leave your skin, his thumb gently caressing the curve of your underboob.
you giggle at his pouty lips before adjusting the short bangs hanging over his forehead that he hated despite the many times you told him he looked cute.
“i ordered brunch for us.” 
dumbfounded and still in a half-asleep state, yukhei helps you off the counter. he watches you look into the peephole before opening the door and picking up a large paper bag that had been sitting on your doormat.
“i thought you’d be hungry after waking up.” you say, setting the bag into your small dining table for two. “i hope you don’t mind, bub. i didn’t want to cook anything because, well—i can’t. i haven’t been to the grocery store this week. but we can always head there later and get stuff for the next few days.”
yukhei lets out a huff of disbelief. “baby.” 
but you don’t hear him. you’re so busy unpacking the small food boxes onto the table as you ramble on and on, oblivious to the way he was staring at you in adoration.
“i got you your favourite stuff. spring rolls, shu mai—what?” 
at last you notice how quiet he has been and you freeze, looking at him with your eyes wide in concern. 
“sit down and let me do the work, please.” yukhei pleads, dragging a chair out. “you did all that while i did nothing and slept like a log!” 
you laugh, shaking your head as you sit down. “i just dialed a number and asked for some food. and i know you really needed that sleep.”
once all the food boxes are arranged neatly on the table, yukhei takes his seat next to you. you’re in the midst of reaching for a pair of chopsticks when his hand grabs onto yours, halting your movements.
there’s a moment of silence as you curiously watch him readjust his thumb below the joints of your fingers, bringing the back of your hand towards his lips.
“thank you, baby. i love you.” he tells you with a dazed smile, placing a kiss just above where the promise ring hugs your finger. 
“you’re welcome.” 
you tell him you love him too before you bite back a huge smile — the kind that satisfies yukhei so much because he knows he’s the reason behind it.
--
yukhei couldn’t put into words how elated he was when you texted him back a few days after your slightly awkward first meeting, agreeing to hang out with him that upcoming friday night.
truth be told, there weren’t any concrete plans for your first date. it was amusing to him really, how the conversation ended right after you both settled on a meeting place, with no discussions of what to do or where to eat.
maybe you were simply excited to see him again and didn’t really care about what the plan was — because that was exactly how yukhei felt. 
the bus ride to the shopping mall felt longer than usual. yukhei found himself staring at his reflection in the window a few times, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket and making sure he looked good.
he had rushed home straight after javelin practice and taken the quickest shower of his life before spending a good amount of time styling his hair. it was not the wisest idea — choosing a late school day when there were six other days in a week where he wouldn’t have to rush — but he had been merely trying his luck when he sent that message asking if you were free. he wasn’t expecting you to actually say yes. 
so when he spotted you waiting all by yourself from afar, he quickened his footsteps amidst the crowd, never taking his eyes off of you. 
your face lit up as soon as you saw him and you waved, the crop top you wore lifting a little. yukhei’s gaze flew to the sliver of skin exposed and the nervousness that had been bubbling in his tummy earlier instantly melted into nothing.
the night went quite smoothly. yukhei could not have enjoyed himself more, from dinner at the sushi bar you had recommended to the impromptu movie session that had the both of you sharing the only available seat left: a couple seat. 
he was falling harder as he got to know you more and it scared him just how fast it was happening.
“do you watch superhero movies a lot?” you asked as the two of you turned into another alley of food stalls. 
yukhei had insisted on accompanying you back to the train station after the movie as it was getting late. he was not going to leave you alone when nightlife in the city was just starting, not when the streets were bound to get rowdy. 
“not really. i mean blockbusters are nice but i love old dramas and action flicks, you know?” yukhei answered, turning to look at you in his jacket that had been on you since he noticed you shivering in the cinema. he couldn’t help but smile at how your fingertips were peeking beneath the long sleeves.
“wait, me too!” you gasped, turning to look at him with a huge smile. “why didn’t you stop us from watching iron man?” 
“well you suggested it so i thought you really wanted to watch it!” yukhei laughed as he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “i’m sorry.” 
“no, that’s my bad. i didn’t know what you liked so i just picked something popular.” you rolled your eyes playfully. “maybe we can watch the great gatsby next time. i think we might enjoy that.” 
next time?
it took yukhei a few seconds to acknowledge the idea of a second date that you had brought up so casually.
“r-really?” he cringed as the single word fumbled through his lips.
“yeah?” you replied, the blank look on his face amusing you a little. “we can watch something else too, if you want.”
“no!” he perked up. “let’s watch gatsby.”
eventually the two of you arrived at the train station, where goodbyes were exchanged rather reluctantly and awkwardly. yukhei watched as you took a few steps away from him before abruptly turning back around. 
“what’s wrong?” 
“your jacket!” you ran a hand through your hair abashedly. “i almost forgot! i mean i did, but.”
yukhei’s hands flew to yours before he could stop himself, stopping you from taking his black denim jacket off. 
“it gets cold in the train. you should have it.” his hands flew to his sides awkwardly. “you can give it back to me next time, it’s okay.”
“oh.” you said so softly that yukhei almost missed it. your eyes fell onto the short sleeves hugging his arms and he read your mind right away. 
“i’ll be fine. my bus ride home is pretty quick.” he reassured you. it was a lie. the weather had started getting cooler and that’s why he brought a jacket out in the first place, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.
yukhei noticed that your cheeks had reddened a little. why were you so cute?
“okay then,” you said with a tiny smile. “thanks again, yukhei.”
yukhei landed on his bed face flat after a warm shower, absolutely exhausted and ready to hit the sack. to be fair, it had been a long day for him and it was close to midnight. 
if it was any other weekday night, he would be snoring already. but he had just sent you a text asking if you reached home already and was eagerly waiting for your reply. 
at last, after a long five minutes, yukhei’s phone buzzed a few times in a row. 
[from: _____][sent at 11:57PM] 
hey
i just got out of the shower
thx for checking in :)
and thx for tonight again, i had a good time :)
wait it’s almost 12!! 
you’re still awake? 
yukhei didn’t realise a bunch of alphabets and symbols could make him so happy. his thumb hovered over his phone screen as he began to type out a reply, but a more texts came flying in.
[from: _____][sent at 11:59PM]
well
in case you’re already sleeping..
goodnight and sweet dreams~
just minutes ago, he had been so ready to fall asleep. but the rush of happiness he experienced as he read your texts over again made that impossible now. yukhei couldn’t put away his phone, couldn’t stop himself from grinning. 
he was screwed. he knew he was, when that was the effect you had on him after only days of knowing each other.
--
“well, well, well. if it isn’t my favourite couple.” 
“sorry,” you sigh while yukhei simply shoots an apologetic smile at kunhang as he slips into the booth after you. “you know how bad traffic is at this hour.”
“it’s okay.” says ten who’s sitting next to kunhang and shoving his nintendo switch into his bag. “but we ordered some stuff first because i’m starving my ass off.”
“oh that’s great!” yukhei cheers. “i’m hungry too.”
“already? weren’t you guys just at your mum’s restaurant?” ten chuckles as he looks up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
kunhang snorts. “he’s hungry all the time, remember? you should see his snack stash back at our dorms.” 
just before they parted ways at camp at the start of their vacation, kunhang had suggested to yukhei that they have a get-together meal with ten — the oldest of the trio who recently scored a job at a renown art gallery in town and decided to stay for good, instead of flying back to his hometown.
yukhei agreed to it, not just because he missed his friend dearly, but also because it’s been a while since all of you had a meal together. when he brought it up to you, you were thrilled at the idea of catching up with them, even if that meant giving up some of his already limited time with you. that’s how you and him ended up sitting across from his two best friends at a hot pot restaurant tonight. 
as food arrives and gradually takes up every inch of space on the table, everyone takes turns giving updates on their lives. yukhei shares memorable incidents at camp and kunhang adds on to his stories with funny anecdotes that make you and ten laugh, while ten announces that his longtime boyfriend, kun, has moved into his apartment. 
“so how’s it like living with kun so far?” you ask, ladling soup from the simmering pot in the center of the table for everyone. 
“i’m getting used to my fridge having food and my kitchen actually being used.” ten replies with a shy smile that yukhei rarely got to see. “it’s only been a week and it’s getting messy in there, but i’m not complaining.” 
“aw.” 
yukhei hears you coo, and he can practically see the look of endearment on your face even though he’s focused on all the meat you’ve put on his plate earlier. 
“and when are the two of you planning to tell us that you’re getting married?” the long-haired boy smirks, squinting at the gold band hugging your ring finger. 
the question stunts you and yukhei and kunhang nearly chokes on his sprite. the innocent smile that was on ten’s face just seconds ago was now long gone and replaced with a mischievous one.
“married?” kunhang exclaims, his voice so loud that the couple in the next booth turns over to look. thoroughly embarrassed, he presses the front of his cap down to hide his eyes. “how am i not the first person to know this, yukhei?”
yukhei sighs. where, and how, should he begin? 
as he glares at ten who’s enjoying this a bit too much, you set your chopsticks down and hold your hand out to an eager kunhang, who marvels at the piece of jewellery on your ring finger up close.
“so?” ten lets out a cheeky, high-pitched giggle at the look yukhei gives him. “did you guys just come back from telling your fam the good news or…?”
yukhei grins devilishly as he picks up a bean sprout with his chopsticks, ready to fling it at ten, but you’re faster than him. 
“we’re not—i mean, we’re getting married. eventually! not now, obviously.” you chuckle in a flustered manner.
we’re getting married. 
yukhei’s heart flutters at that sentence. he wants to hear you say that again, wants to be the one to tell his friends that. 
“you’ll be the first to know when we do.” yukhei adds, nudging kunhang’s foot underneath the table, earning an eye-roll from ten.
“well, you better.” kunhang quipped. “we’ve been talking about this for years now. it’s time you two quit playing and actually get it done.” 
“ah, so this is a promise ring?” ten cuts in excitedly. it’s now his turn to examine the ring as kunhang gets back to his food. “it’s so pretty. it definitely suits you.”
“thanks,” you beam as you pull your hand back. “yukhei got it years ago but won’t tell me when or where. says it’s a secret.”
the two boys gawk at yukhei right away and he sighs, bracing himself for what’s to come. 
“oh xuxi, you romantic baby!” ten teases, clearly having the time of his life making yukhei blush tonight. 
“so this is what you were nervous about!” kunhang scoffs in disbelief before looking between you and ten. “we were on the train back to the city and he wouldn’t shut up about being nervous for some surprise plan. and he just wouldn’t tell me what!” 
“oh my god, you guys are so cute. it’s gross.” ten shakes his head. “you’re lucky i love you both!”
yukhei smiles bashfully. he was a little embarrassed at first, but of course ten and kunhang had to make it worse. he wanted to pull his beanie over his entire face and ignore everything.
you’re awfully silent next to him as you glance between your food and your lap shyly, your hair shielding your face from everyone else. a warm rush of adoration washes over yukhei and he finds himself gently adjusting your hair, tugging a loose strand behind your ear.
“okay, that’s it.” kunhang groans, grabbing his bag and pretending to leave the table. “thanks for the meal, you guys.” 
“you can’t just leave!” ten exclaims, reaching for his cup of tea. “you haven’t asked _____ for her friends’ numbers yet.” 
kunhang stares at ten, his eyes widening and jaw dropping in horror before he starts bickering with him — a scene that has you bursting into laughter and yukhei reminiscing the good old days where the four of you would hang out at the mall for hours after class. kunhang was always so starstruck by the popular girls at your all-girls school though you weren’t close with any of them. nothing has really changed since you entered university. 
“you told me to remind you!” ten retorts. 
“not in front of everyone!” kunhang cries dramatically.
“dude. it’s literally just the four of us.” ten deadpans. “always has been.”
“anyway,” kunhang rolls his eyes as he turns to face you. “so, _____. any of your friends single again?” 
you do your best to look sympathetic before shaking your head. yukhei splutters out a laugh while ten pats kunhang’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. 
“this would be a lot easier if you were, you know, into guys.” 
--
yukhei’s first kiss with you was, for him, a long time coming. 
it happened at the end of your fifth date, after a day spent at the park. 
summer had fully transitioned into fall and the weather was cool enough for the two of you to set up a picnic at a sunny spot. everything was perfect — from the calming sounds of nature to the desserts you both brought to the cute dress you wore underneath your sweater that matched the greenery around you.
more than a month had passed since yukhei first met you. with every date, the urge to hold your hands when you walked around in public and to kiss you and finally know what your lips tasted like kept growing. 
yukhei smiled as he watched you talk about your week even though he already heard these stories since you text each other so much. your words went in and out of his ears and it was hard for him to concentrate because all he could think of was whether you liked him too.
there were moments that made him consider it a possibility, like how you surprised him with his favourite snacks after one of his javelin practice sessions or the way you would smile when you caught him staring at your face.
he was torn between over-romanticising those moments and acknowledging them as the plain and simple fact that you liked him too.
he felt it again as the two of you watched the sun set and slowly sink into the horizon across the river, the sky dissolving into hues of orange. 
the scene in front of him was majestic, but yukhei could only concentrate on how close to him you and him were. so close that your arms were brushing against each other’s, so close that you could rest your head on his shoulder if you leaned a little. 
“i like this a lot.” you said out of the blue, your eyes still fixed on the sunset in the distance. you leaned back, anchoring your palms against the mat to make yourself comfortable.
“i like you a lot.” 
yukhei couldn’t stop himself. those words had been kept inside him for too long. 
silence hung in the air as your proximity grew tense. yukhei couldn’t see your face and he was starting to think that maybe it was for his own good. when he felt you sitting up straight and he held his breath, expecting the worst.
“i like you too.” your voice was barely audible and you sounded just as nervous as he did, but yukhei heard you loud and clear.
his eyes widened as he turned to you at the speed of light. you had been looking at him nervously but as soon as your eyes met, your gaze quickly flickered towards your hands that were fidgeting with the sleeve of your sweater. 
“really?” yukhei placed his hand over yours, gently circling the back of it with his thumb. “you like me… in that way?” 
“yeah.” you mumbled, resting your head in the nook between his neck and shoulder exactly how he had pictured in his mind earlier. “i like you. a lot.”
relief flooded yukhei’s veins and he could finally breathe hearing you say the words he had so badly wanted to hear. nothing else mattered in that moment, because all he could think of was you seeing him in the same light he saw you in. 
and suddenly, everything made sense to him. how could he be so stupid, after all that had happened in the past few weeks? the way you’d remember the little details of things he told you and how you’d blush at his terrible pick-up lines? of course you liked him too. 
“what are you thinking about?” you squeezed his hand as you pulled back to look at him. 
your face had never been so close to his. yukhei could count your eyelashes and have a proper look at your lips that looked soft and velvety. everything about this moment made it impossible for him to ignore what he had been dreaming of doing.
“can i kiss you?” yukhei asked.
all he could remember was how your eyes lit up instantly, every trace of worry fading away as an innocent smile graced your face. then you leaned in and closed your eyes just as he did, your lips meeting in a long awaited kiss. 
yukhei cupped the side of your face with one hand, his thumb drawing soothing circles over your cheekbones. he felt himself sink into the feeling of your fluffy lips moving languidly against his, the way they tasted sweet like the strawberry shortcakes you shared earlier. 
it took everything in yukhei to not whine when you pulled away to catch your breath, even though the kiss was probably longer than it should have been. he could still feel the butterflies in stomach as you pressed your forehead against his and he didn’t want them to fade away so soon, so he spoiled you with a few chaste kisses in a row that left both your lips tingling by the end.
“been wanting to do that for a long time.” yukhei beamed. 
he reached for your hand that had been on his knee and interlocked your fingers — a small gesture he could now make anytime he wanted, and that made him a very happy boy. 
the sun was almost gone but even under the dim fluorescent lighting from the street lamps, yukhei could tell that you were flushing and giddy with affection like him. the golden hour casted a warm orange glow onto your skin and you couldn’t look more like the girl of his dreams. 
“i know. me too.”
the butterflies in yukhei’s stomach fluttered wildly at the sound of your airy chuckle. there was nothing that could take away the smile on his face.
-- 
yukhei did not expect to wake up to the sight of you in nothing but his camo jacket.
the lack of body heat woke him up and he found himself once again lying alone in bed and wondering where you were — but all his thoughts flew out of the window when he heard the bedroom door creak and saw you stepping back in. 
he had to blink a few times to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him and that you were indeed, dressed only in his camo army jacket.
you’re standing beforeyour dresser to examine the love mark yukhei branded on your neck the night before, oblivious to how he’s silently observing you and getting hard again. 
there’s something about the way his jacket reaches your midthigh and teasingly moves upwards to offer him a glimpse of your ass each time you lifted your hands to run over your skin that turns him on so much. and he has seen you in his t-shirts and muscle tanks many times before, but none of that could compare to how you looked right now and he has no clue why so.
maybe it’s the consecutive months of being deprived of your touch and having to picture your body as he took cold showers to relieve himself on some mornings. but he doesn’t have to rely on his imagination now that you’re here, in front of him, like a present waiting to be unwrapped and appreciated.
yukhei lets out a whine that gets muffled into the pillow, but you hear it immediately and whirl around in surprise.
“hey.” you smile lazily as you make your way back to bed, landing on your knees and crawling towards him. 
yukhei’s eyes are glued to the gap between his unbuttoned jacket, which hangs loose enough on your body to bless him with the sight of your cleavage, the smooth expanse of your body, and as he lowers his gaze — your core between your parted thighs. 
he’s visibly infatuated, and you clearly don’t entertain that as you sit on where his crotch is beneath the sheets, lying down on him to give him a quick smooch. your lips are warm and taste like lemon, which tells yukhei you just had your morning mug of tea.
“morning,” yukhei mumbles, slipping a hand beneath his jacket to rest on your back. your skin is smooth and warm under his touch as always. “this looks so much better on you.” 
“yeah?” you chuckle softly. “hope you don’t mind, it was cold.”
“i don’t mind it at all,” yukhei smiles, raising his other hand to cup your cheek affectionately. “but i need you.”
“need you to warm me up, baby.” he says, his voice deepening with the next sentence. “want you to ride me in this.” 
you’re looking down at him in a hazy gaze when your breathing pauses. you don’t answer him with words — instead, you slot your lips between his, never pulling away as you get on your knees and pull the covers off. 
yukhei sighs into the kiss at the feeling of his cock standing tall and unrestrained, desperately begging for your attention. he lets out a heavier sigh as your hand wraps around his hard length and starts stroking him with purpose.
“just like that.” he groans, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as his hips start thrusting into your grip. you line his jaw with kisses, making him feel pampered and content. 
“want you too.” you purr.
yukhei hears how needy you are and tightens his grip on your ass, but you’re already one step ahead of him. repositioning yourself, you let your slick folds slide against the length of his cock as you continue pumping him, lubricating him with your own arousal. 
the room is filled with desperate sighs. you’re grinding your clit over his tip when it becomes all too much for yukhei, who wants to be deep inside you already.
“baby,” yukhei mutters, squeezing your ass cheeks which elicits a loud gasp from you. “need to be in you now. please.”
the urgency in his voice prompts you to lean forward and stable yourself with a hand pressed to his chest. yukhei watches you guide his cock towards your opening before sinking onto him in one go. 
“fuck.” his throat goes dry at the feeling of your soaking walls enveloping all of him and his jaw slackens as he takes a few moments to appreciate how it feels to be buried in you.
“yukhei,” you whine. “it’s hot.”
he watches you shrug his jacket off, letting it hang past your shoulders in a teasing manner. at this point, he just wants to rip it off you. but all he manages is a guttural groan before running his hands up and down your thighs.
“you’re driving me insane, baby.”
you giggle softly at his words, the sound ringing in his ears and going straight to his cock.
“i love you.” you tell him sweetly and kiss him again. then you plant your hands flat against his lower abdomen where his abs are, lifting yourself off him until only his head is left stretching you open.
yukhei grunts when you drop back down slowly and start riding him at a hypnotic rhythm. he’s too overwhelmed to say a word, too entranced by your breathy moans and the lewd image of your chest rising and falling. 
you’re clenching around him in such a delicious way that all he can do is knead your asscheeks with his large hands and let out deep “uh-uh-uh”s. 
“fuck,” yukhei hisses as he watches you arch your back, moving you hips differently to get the perfect angle. 
“let me take over, baby.”
yukhei plants his feet flat on the mattress just as he feels a familiar tight feeling in his balls. you oblige right away and collapse against him, ready for him to fuck you senseless.
pressed chest to chest, he grips onto your ass firmly as he starts pounding into you from below. 
the scent of passion and desire wafted through the air. his cock leaves and enters you at a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping only getting more erratic with your cries for his name right by his ear.
“yukhei…” you cry weakly as his tip nudges your sweet spot again and again. 
“i’m here, baby. gonna come inside you, you want that?” 
“y-yes. miss you filling me up.”
yukhei curses, and you reach your high just seconds before he does. your entire body shakes in pleasure before he comes into you, flooding your insides with his warm release. he groans as you ride out your high and roll your hips, the feeling of you being warm and full all too heavenly.
after a short while of nothing but heavy breathing as the both of you succumb to a blissful state, yukhei removes the jacket hanging off your elbows and rolls you over with his softening cock still snug in you. he hums in satisfaction, nuzzling his face against your neck as your fingers comb through his hair. 
“i love you.” yukhei sighs contentedly. “didn’t get to say it back just now.”
he hears you hum softly and feels a peck on his forehead. when he gains the energy to pull back and look at you, he finds your eyes already on him, half-open in adoration. 
“i’ll clean us up, okay?” yukhei asks softly, his elbows pressing against the mattress as he moves to get up. he’s sure there’s already a mess on your sheets. 
“no, don’t go.” you murmured, tightening your thighs around his hips in an attempt to lock him in place. you end up pushing him deeper into you instead, making him hiss. “stay like this for a bit.” 
yukhei notes the clinginess in your voice and the way your hands trace love patterns along the curves of his back. he lies back down, joining your lips in a deep kiss. 
“i’m not going anywhere.”
it’s so easy for him to do whatever you say, he realises. you have him wrapped around your finger because you’re just as clingy as he is — and only he gets to see that side of you.
--
yukhei had sex with you for the first time in a hotel overlooking the ocean. 
it had been his first holiday with you. every december, yukhei would fly back to his mum’s hometown in thailand with his family to visit his relatives — that wasn’t anything new. what was new though, was you tagging along after his mum had enthusiastically asked you to join them. 
the week-long trip was the most fun yukhei had in years. minus the shy introductions and teasing from his relatives who were overjoyed to finally meet his pretty girlfriend whom they’ve heard much about over phone calls, it was like a mini honeymoon for the two of you. 
after catching up with his cousins in the first half of the trip, yukhei spent all the other days ‘having fun by yourselves’ as his mum had insisted. you ended up exploring the coastal town, hanging out at the beach, and eating the local food to your heart’s content.
the highlight of the trip for yukhei though, was finally being able to make love to you. the resort stay was a godsend opportunity after the many interruptions during your steamy makeout sessions in yukhei’s tiny bedroom. it was the perfect time and place that you both needed.
yukhei swore you were a goddess as you laid on the bed with your legs spread out, your hair fanned out against the pillows, patiently waiting for him to put the condom on. 
it was his first time seeing all of you, your curves and body marks displayed to him like a work of art in a museum. he couldn’t look away, couldn’t ignore how rosy your face was from coming apart on his fingers just minutes earlier.
“is this okay?” yukhei asked tenderly, pausing when he stretched you out halfway. “can i go deeper, baby?” 
you nodded fervently though the tense look on your face made yukhei unsure. he really wanted you to enjoy this too. sensing his hesitation, you pulled him down for a deep kiss. 
“so tight, fuck—” yukhei mumbles against your lips as he pushed himself further into you, his hands caressing the underside of your thighs.
yukhei sighed, the pressure to not come quickly making him slightly nervous. it was difficult not to when your walls were warm and hugging his cock like a glove, letting him experience euphoria like never before. 
“beautiful.” his voice gentle as he gave you an open-mouthed kiss. “all mine.” 
as soon as you signalled for him to move, yukhei took charge, thrusting into you slowly as he gauged your reaction. his pace quickened after a while a combination of sighs and moans spilled from your mouth. your neck arched against the pillows, presenting him with the perfect location for a love mark. 
but yukhei was distracted. he couldn’t take his eyes off your soaking core, couldn’t get over the way you stretched open to welcome him each time his cock slid all the way back in. he had seen his fingers disappear in you before so many times, but this image was incomparable. 
“so deep,” you said breathlessly, your fingernails digging crescent moons into his back. 
yukhei looked at you. from the hair that stuck to the side of your neck to your lashes fluttered shut in pleasure, you were a sight to behold. 
“yeah?” he kissed you sloppily. “does it feel good?”
“yes—oh!” you whimpered just as yukhei’s fingertips landed on the sensitive bundle of nerves right above where you and him were connected. 
he drew circles on it with his thumb, groaning when you clenched around him. “you feel so good around me too, baby. you’re doing so well.”
yukhei’s thrusts grew uneven as he coaxed you into your orgasm. by the time he shot his release into the rubber, you came undone beneath him too, crying out in rapture one last time as your thighs shook intensely. 
a moment of silence hung in the air as your pants slowly faded into deep and slow inhalations. seeing you come all over him, because of him, gave yukhei’s ego a huge boost. it didn’t help that you were trembling in sensitivity while he cleaned you up as gently as he could and muttered praises into your ear.
“yukhei,” you called him softly and he halted his movements, worried that he had accidentally hurt you. 
“i don’t know if i can go out tomorrow.” you mumbled, covering your eyes with the back of your hand. 
yukhei instantly relaxed, a smirk taking over his face as he threw the wet wipes aside.  “we don’t have to go out, but i can carry you wherever you like.”
when you didn’t respond, he crawled over you and pulled your hand away. you avoided his gaze, looking at his chest instead. 
“i’m serious, baby.” yukhei tilted your chin up and looked into your eyes as genuinely as he could. “we can stay in all day if you want.”
“okay. sounds nice.” your hand quickly hovered over your face again. 
the smirk on yukhei’s face softened into a smile. it was amusing and adorable to him, how you could still be this shy after the night’s events. he felt as if he was in heaven and within the next second, he was placing kisses everywhere on your face but your lips. when you broke into a fit of giggles, yukhei couldn’t help but keep going. he finally stopped when your hands framed his jaw, guiding his plump lips back to yours for a short, innocent kiss. 
“thank you for being so patient with me tonight.” you paused, swallowing a lump down your throat. “it was nice even though i’m a little sore now.”
yukhei’s heart grew three times at your words.
“is that all? just nice?” he smirked. 
you pinched his bicep playfully and hid your face again, muttering something about him being so annoying. 
“i’m playing with you,” yukhei giggled, pretty sure he had hearts in his eyes as he looked at you. “love seeing you get all shy for me like this.” and with that, he pulled your hands apart and trapped them against the pillows. 
just as he was about to kiss away the pout on your lips, the sound of a door slamming shut thundered down the hallway and echoed in the room, sending both of you into speechlessness. 
yukhei put his boxers on hurriedly, rushing to the balcony and sighing in relief when he noticed the lights in the next room a distance away had just turned on — a sign that his parents, who had been out the entire evening, have just gotten back. at that moment, he couldn’t be more thankful that his plans for the night turned out well. he wouldn’t know how to face his parents if they overheard him and you, and just the sheer thought of it brought goosebumps to his arms.
“are they back?” you asked nervously, pulling the covers up to your chin.
yukhei nodded, turning the bedside lamp off before cuddling up to you. “we have to be quiet.”
“oh, we will be.” you yawned, making him smile and hug you more tightly. you responded by wiggling around in his embrace. “yukhei, i’m sticky.” 
“don’t care.” he whispered against your skin. “just wanna hold my baby like this.” 
after a few more indulgent kisses and sweet nothings were exchanged under the moonlight, you dozed off in each other’s arms.
the next morning, yukhei woke up to the sound of waves crashing onto the shore. you were already awake and sitting up with the covers wrapped around you as you silently admired the swaying palm trees outside. yukhei sat up sluggishly, planting a kiss on your shoulder. 
you turned around to return a kiss to his lips, eyes still closed when you pulled away, the intimacy of last night clearly still in the air. you opened your eyes, looking completely lost in him just like he was in you.
“good morning to you too.”
the rest of the day was slow and relaxed. you both agreed to stay in the resort, and so the afternoon flew by as you lounged by the pool and dined at the restaurant next to the beach. safe to say, the sight of you in a bikini all day led to another intimate, even raunchier night. 
--
yukhei thinks he’s ready to move in with you.
maybe it sounds a little impulsive. but that’s because there haven’t been a lot of opportunities for the two of you to live together, with yukhei studying at another university and you living in a shared apartment over the past few years. 
but staying at your apartment over these few days has given yukhei a sneak peek of life under the same roof as you, and he loves it so much that he wants to be done with his enlistment duties and fast forward to the part where he gets to share a home with you already.
yukhei wants to wake up past noon on weekends and whip up a hearty brunch with you, wants to spend the rest of the day helping you with mundane tasks like laundry and watering all your plants.
yukhei wants to be there for you on days where you’re exhausted from grad school life, when you turn down his pleas for you to take a break despite being drained from staring at your laptop screen. but he’ll massage your tensed shoulders, take your glasses off, and pull you to bed where you doze off to his soothing back rubs and soft praises of how proud of you he is and how well you’re doing.
he craves that kind of domesticity even right now as you lay on top of him, your limbs entangled comfortably and your cheek squished against his chest while your eyes are glued to the great gatsby playing on the tv.
there aren’t any plans to go out today due to the simple fact that you were both too lazy to get dressed and leave the house unless it’s for food. and probably because, though you wouldn’t admit it openly, you want him all to yourself — which is fine because yukhei feels the exact same towards you. 
the living room is hushed as you and him watch a drenched gatsby reunite with daisy in a lavishly decorated flower-filled cottage. you sit up just as the scene ends, elbowing the couch as you rest your chin on your palm.
“why are you looking at me like that?” yukhei asks. there’s an unsure look on your face that he can’t quite read.
“i think i remember.” you hold your other hand up, flashing the ring that has been making you so happy. “thailand?”
yukhei grins brightly, the top row of his teeth showing. he nods proudly, taking your hand in his to look at the ring — a thin gold band with a pale blue sapphire — and admire the way it gleams in the afternoon sunlight. 
it’s just as beautiful as the first time he saw it in that gift shop in thailand. 
yukhei remembers that day vividly. it was the last day of the trip, and both of you were shopping around for souvenirs for your friends back home. he caught you admiring a few vintage jewellery pieces by yourself as he stood in the corner of one of the many shops you stepped into that day, pretending to be interested in some touristy postcards. though it didn’t seem like much to him at first, he later noticed that you picked up the same ring a few times, looking back at it even as you walked away. 
eventually, thanks to what he could say in his broken thai, he managed to charm the shop owner into reserving that very ring for him. yukhei secretly returned for them while you thought you were waiting for him to be done in the bathroom at a cafe. he felt a little bad at first, but he knew it had to be done or else he’d regret it so much in the years to come. 
yukhei always imagined what the ring would look like on your finger. its design enthralled him when he first examined it up close and he quickly understood why you took such a liking to it — after all, anything vintage was right up your alley. little did he know it would look even more beautiful sitting on your ring finger. 
“oh my god.” you let out a huff of disbelief as soon as he finishes explaining everything. 
you’re speechless as your eyes flick back and forth between the ring and the coy look on yukhei’s face. this is the reaction he has been waiting for. 
“yukhei.” your voice is fragile, like you’re about to cry any moment. 
the smirk on yukhei’s face drops immediately. he does not like hearing his name from you like that. 
“what’s wrong?” 
“nothing,” you smile weakly, quickly brushing away the tears that escaped your eyes with the back of your hand. “i just love you so much.”
“and i’m going to miss you. a lot.” you continue before he gets to reply. “every day. all over again. i miss you already.” 
“oh, baby.” yukhei croons as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you down for a tight hug. he rubs your back, feeling helpless at the sound of your sniffles. 
yukhei knew this would happen. of course he did. he’s struggling just as much as you are to ignore the impending distance you’ll both have to deal with again — maybe that’s why he was clinging onto the idea of a future with you so tightly. 
“we’ve talked about this. the sooner the better, right? ” yukhei says sadly, finding it hard to agree with himself.
“i know, i’m just being emotional again. i’m sorry.” you chuckle unhumorously. “i didn’t think i’d get to see you before the year ends, you know? but you came back. you’re actually here and i’m so happy.” 
“and,” you prop your arm up on his chest, the promise ring once again in yukhei’s view. a moment passes as the two of you stare at it — the symbol of your love and future.
“i love you so much. i want to live the rest of my life with you, like the past few days.” you say resolutely.
yukhei is overwhelmed with happiness, love, and nostalgia all at once. suddenly he’s transported back to that park where you first kissed as teenagers, where he first found out that you liked him too. but loving someone and knowing that they love you back so much so that they want to be with you forever is something so much more special. it’s a privilege yukhei never thought he’d have. 
and now, he does. as he looks into your eyes, he realises that you’ve blessed him with that privilege, and that you’re truly the best thing that has ever happened to him. 
yukhei finds himself unable to express in words just how he feels at this moment. so he shifts your bodies around until you’re lying side by side, until all he sees is your face up close. he cups your tear-streaked cheeks before softly brushing his lips against yours, sinking in the warmth that blossoms in his chest. 
“i love you.” he says delicately when he pulls away, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “i’m so glad the universe chose you for me.” 
the fond smile on your face falters as a tear rolls down your cheek and your bottom lip begin to quiver, the violins playing in the long-forgotten movie adding more melancholy than needed to this moment. 
yukhei’s heart breaks as he watches you avoid his gaze and desperately blink away the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. but he knows that you two will make it, that the distance is merely temporary. and he knows you know it too. what you and him have is so strong. 
“hey, look at me.” he whispers.
you turn towards him, your eyes curiously examining his face.
“i’m gonna come home. to you.” yukhei places a kiss on your forehead. “and it won’t be long. think about it baby, i’ll be out this time next year and we could be living together by then.”
“i can’t wait for that.”
“me too. you’ll get to wake up next to me everyday, but you’ll have to teach me how to not burn our pancakes for breakfast until they’re perfect.”
at last, the corners of your lips twitch and you chuckle into the sleeve of your sweater. 
“how does that sound?”
“waking up to you everyday or the pancakes?”
“me coming home. and us living together.”
“like a dream come true.”
a moment passes as you smile at each other in a placid silence. 
yukhei cups the side of your face with one hand, brushing over your cheekbone and memorising every little detail that adorned your face and made him feel at home no matter where he is. you lean into his touch, reveling in the warmth of his palm. 
the fact that he only has one more day until he will have to wait months before he gets to be with you like this again makes his heart swell in longing. so he holds you close, enjoying the moment while he still can. 
-- 
the first time yukhei told you he loved you, it was an accident — not really. 
that morning, he was awoken by a ball of fur nuzzling against his bare shoulder.
he opened his eyes, looking around the room for a good minute before spotting a familiar siamese cat that was perched at the foot of the bed and observing him with its soft gloomy eyes like it had been waiting for him to wake up for the longest time. 
“good morning, louis.” 
the cat meowed once as if announcing its disappointment in yukhei before hopping off the bed and making its grand exit by squeezing through the slim door gap.
yukhei shrugged, reaching for his phone that had been charging on the nightstand right by the bed. a quick look at the time and date on his lock screen refreshed his memory, vaguely reminding him of the events of the night before. 
he crashed against the mattress and let out a muffled groan into the pillows, shuddering at the thought of how much alcohol he had downed. he was absolutely regretting his idea of not having a birthday party, but instead an entire night of drinking to celebrate turning his legal age. 
his final hours of being seventeen were fun, though. ten, kunhang, and a couple of other friends brought him to an upscale steakhouse located in the city’s nightlife district. but like every other boys’ night out, the night eventually descended into borderline chaos. in last night’s case, they went through too many rounds of drinking games and yukhei soon came to the realisation that he was the type to get all giggly and sappy when intoxicated. 
yukhei threw the covers over himself and ignored the dryness in his throat, ready to slip back into slumber but he couldn’t. something felt off. he grabbed his phone again and there you were, smiling back at him in his lockscreen wallpaper. 
oh no.
flashbacks of how he had asked for you last night and proudly claimed that you were “the one” for him came running back to him. he quickly unlocked his phone, checking his text messages. 
[to: ♥][sent at 1:55AM]
hey baaby
baby
i miss u ;(
ii'm still with ten and. kunhang
he mahde me drink so muhch hheheehe
babyy reply me plz 
i can seee u readin all of thiks :(
i miss You
[from: ♥][sent at 1:56AM]
oh my god yukhei
are you okay?
wru now???
[to: ♥][sent at 1:58AM]
hi bab
im OK
at tens place now…
he has 2 catss. theyre so Cute 
anyway 
i need to tell u sometxhing
its rneally imbportant
and that is i love u 
u make me so happi
u r so pretttyjf n soooo smart
ur alsoreally kind.. lwiterally an angel
hdeheheheheheee
im so lucky to be youre boyfrjend
becayuse i get to see Ur smile everyyday. hold your hand whenegver i want
onlyi can call u Baby
did u know ? 
i bet u djd not ;)
i l o v e LOVE you 
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
[incoming call from: ♥] 
declined.
[incoming call from: ♥] 
declined.
[from: ♥][sent at 2:00AM]
why aren’t you picking up yukhei
you’re making me worried now
are you okay :( 
[to: ♥][sent at 2:15AM]
hey _____, ten here. don’t worry about xuxi! he just passed out on my couch. 
[attachment: 1 image]
i’m just gonna let him crash here tonight since my parents aren’t back anyway. feel free to pop by in the morning btw, i think he would be really happy. and sorry for texting you at this hour!! goodnight :D
yukhei stared at his phone screen blankly, the jumbled letters of his drunk texts burning into his eyes. there was also that picture of him sprawled across the leather couch in ten’s living room in deep slumber, with his shirt completely unbuttoned and a party hat strapped to his forehead like a unicorn.
“morning, birthday boy.” 
yukhei’s heart jumped. he jammed his thumb against the button on the side of his phone, turning around to find ten’s head poking out of the door. 
“how are you feeling?” ten asked. yukhei sat up immediately when he saw a glass of water in his friend’s hand. “like shit, i’m guessing.”
ten sat himself down at the foot of the bed, handing the water to an eager yukhei who gulps it all at one go.
“close enough. i feel like i’ve been run over by a bus.” yukhei replied, coughing to clear the raspiness in his voice. 
ten hummed. “well, your girl came over with a lot of food. i think you’ll feel better after eating.” 
yukhei’s eyes widened, his voice lowering into a whisper. “she’s here? now?”
“sort of. she went out to get coffee with guanheng but they should be back soon.” ten narrowed his eyes at yukhei, trying to read the look on his face. “what’s wrong?” 
“nothing.” 
“uh huh.” ten snorted. “you suck at lying.” 
“okay, fine. i might have spammed her with some texts last night while i was wasted.”
“oh yeah, i saw those. you were crying for her for at least thirty minutes last night by the way.”
“fuck.” yukhei let out a groan. “let’s not talk about that. not now please, ten-ge.” 
“okay, okay.” ten smirked. “only because it’s your birthday. now, continue.”
“i told her i love her. like, love love her.” 
“oh.” ten paused, his expression fading into one of confusion. “wait, i don’t get it. is that a bad thing?” 
“no, no. it’s not.” yukhei cut in quickly, glancing at the door every few seconds nervously. “it’s just—i haven’t told her that before!” he whisper-shouted. 
“i don’t know how she reacted to it! what if she doesn’t feel the same?”
ten burst into laughter right away, his eyes squinting into crescents. “oh, xuxi. you’re so cute when you’re in love, you know?” 
“i really don’t think you have to worry about her not feeling the same. but i do think you should go tell her in person soon.” 
yukhei blinked, relaxing a little when he realised that ten was probably right. the older male grinned, ruffling yukhei’s bed hair playfully before leaving the room. 
in less than five minutes the door swung open again, and yukhei tensed a little when he saw you, almost as if he had seen a ghost. he didn’t realise you were back already and had been planning to sit in anxiety by himself for thirty more minutes.
“you okay?” you chuckled as you walked over and sat next to him. 
yukhei hummed as you cradled the side of his face with one hand, your thumb smoothing away the drool crust on the corner of his lips that he didn’t even realise had been there. 
“someone clearly had a lot of fun last night.”
yukhei’s lips curled into a silly, crooked smile as you crossed your arms and pouted. your attempt at guilt-tripping him had failed completely, it endeared you instead and suddenly he felt like his drunk self bombarding you with all those confessions last night. 
your lips eventually cracked into a huge grin. you threw your arms around his shoulders, doing your best to engulf his big frame in a tight hug which made yukhei chuckle. he loved it whenever you hugged him like that or let him be the small spoon when you cuddled.
“happy birthday bub.” you coo dearly, giving each of his cheeks a loud smooch which made his face scrunch up adorably. “are you sure you’re okay?” 
“thank you, baby.” yukhei smiled, his mind completely free from his worries already. “i’m okay, just a little hungry.”
“well, it just so happens that there are loads of yummy things waiting outside. maybe even some of your favourite desserts.” you smirked enticingly as you grabbed his hand and stood up. “c’mon, let’s go eat.” 
“wait.” yukhei’s breathing stuttered, pulling you back quickly. “i need to tell you something.”
you moved into the spot between his legs, waiting for him to say something as your hands hung in the air intertwined.
“what is it?” you asked.
yukhei looked up at you, taking in the curious smile on your face. it brought so much joy and warmth to his life and he could never get tired of seeing that.
“i love you.” yukhei said, each word rolling off his tongue so naturally. “all those texts i sent you last night? i meant every single word. i love you, _____.” 
your eyes were glossy as you relaxed a little, sinking into his touch when he clasped his arms around your thighs to pull you closer. yukhei could tell you were recalling all those cheesy texts as you bit your lip shyly.
he closed his eyes just as you bent down to slot your lips against his in the most delicate way possible before whispering those three words back, as if they were only for him to hear. 
“i love you too, yukhei. you make me so happy.” 
“say it again.” yukhei asked, his voice laced with desperation even though he knew it was the first of many ‘i love you’s to come. 
your cheek was soft and warm in the palm of his hand. you grinned, closing the distance between your lips once more.
“i love you.”
it was the best birthday gift yukhei had ever received.
--
as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. 
in yukhei’s case, the past five days have flown by quickly and alas, it is the penultimate day of his short vacation. 
but he’s more than satisfied with how the week has gone by despite how short it felt. he managed to visit his family, catch up with his closest friends, recover all the hours of sleep he had lost while on duty, and most importantly, be around you literally every day of this vacation so far. he woke up and slept next to you, cooked and ate all his favourite foods with you, and interrupted every other activity with sex and cuddling sessions — and he wouldn’t have it any other way. just looking back on those moments brought a smile to his face. 
his thoughts are interrupted when the door to your bedroom opens and you walk in with a small stack of laundry in one hand. 
”thank you baby.” he says, taking the clothes he had worn in the past few days, that are now clean, from you. they’re still warm from being fresh out of the dryer, and he gets a whiff of roses when he holds them under his nose. 
“you’re very welcome.” you plop down right next to where he had been sitting cross-legged on the floor, packing his belongings. 
as yukhei stuffs his sneakers deep into the bottom of his haversack, you look at all his other things that have been laid out neatly, side-by-side, on your bedroom rug. he doesn’t pay much attention as you pick up his wallet and entertain yourself with its contents.
“is this what i think it is?” 
you ask, pulling out a small folded piece of paper that was stuffed into one of the card compartments. the look of curiosity on your face morphs into one of surprise as soon as you unfold it completely and realise what it is.
“you keep this in your wallet?”
it’s one of the few handwritten letters you mailed to him during his first month in camp when he, like every one of his teammates, had zero access to their phones and gadgets. 
yukhei still remembers how tough that period of time was. being thrown into a whole new environment and expected to adjust to a lifestyle that was the complete opposite of university life was not easy at all. not only was his freedom snatched away, he had to deal with a long list of strict rules and responsibilities dumped onto him. and as if all that wasn’t enough, he had to witness his newly-made friends live through the countless military break-up horror stories he heard from his seniors.
it was a lot, but he got through each day thanks to the camaraderie he shared with his team and those letters you had mailed him, since they were the only form of communication he had with you. 
“yeah. it got me through some tough times, you know.” yukhei admits, watching you read through your own words. 
each letter was detailed with updates on your life and things his mum told you to convey to him. they all ended with a short paragraph of best wishes and sweet words which yukhei appreciated very much because he was absolutely sick of hearing about duty and honour.
yukhei had no idea he was so sentimental. he’d reread those letters in your voice, stare at your handwriting, and hold it up to his nose to get the faint scent of your perfume. it was like a piece of you — which was what he needed to fight the homesickness gnawing at him. 
“maybe you should write to me.” you mumble, refusing to look at him as you slid the letter back into his wallet. “i mean, if you’re not too busy. i would love getting mail from you even though we can text and facetime now.”
“i’ll try to, baby.” yukhei smirks. “my good morning and goodnight texts not enough for you?” 
“no,” you drawl, rolling your eyes playfully. “i love waking up to a bunch of heart and rose emojis.” 
yukhei laughs, going back to packing his things while you roll his clothes into bundles that would help him save space. after a short while of teamwork between you two, his haversack is stuffed and he’s done.
“don’t forget these,” you hand him his leather glasses case that had been sitting on your bedside table. then you’re on your feet, pacing around the room as your eyes scan every inch of the space, looking out for anything he might’ve missed. 
“i’ve looked everywhere earlier.” yukhei tells you before getting on his feet too. he stretches his arms high above him and lets out a silent yawn. “i think that’s it.”
“okay.” you answer in a small voice. 
now that you’re done helping him pack, there’s just one last thing left to do and it just happens to be the hardest task of all — you’ll have to say goodbye to him this time, tomorrow, at the train station.
that realisation settles between the two of you, once again compelling yukhei to make the most out of the time he has left. with a sad smile he holds his arms out, instantly drawing you into his embrace like a moth of a flame. you squish your cheek against him, hands locked behind his back as he hugs you warm and securely. 
“you need to stop working out so much, your abs are hard enough.” your voice comes out slightly muffled. “by the time you’re out, i’m gonna be hugging a rock.” 
yukhei grins at your words, bursting into full-blown giggles when your fingers poke into his sides and smooth across his tummy. the faint muscle lines that were there before he enlisted were now more defined, some even visible through the cotton fabric of his t-shirt. 
“you say that like i have a choice, baby.” he replies. “i can’t just sit aside while everyone else does seventy push-ups and ten laps around the field.”
you let out a disgruntled noise and hugged him even tighter, as if you were trying to mold your body into his. 
“and you like it. admit it.” yukhei teases. 
“i do.” you murmur. “you smell so good, by the way.” 
yukhei giggles at how quickly you switched the topic.
“it’s that detergent you’re using. i wish my clothes smelled this nice when i’m there.” 
“i’m talking about you, bub. the way you smell. my hoodie doesn’t smell like that anymore.” 
“the way i smell?” yukhei laughs. “and i think you mean my hoodie.” 
“it’s been mine for a while now.”
“well, wanna give it back to me? since it lost its purpose.” 
“okay. i’ll trade it for this shirt.” 
you tug on the hem of his shirt as you look up at him, eagerly waiting for his response. it’s moments like this where yukhei wonders if you know you have him in the palm of your hand.
“whatever you want, baby. i’ll give it to you.”
the lovestruck smile on his face widens as he places a kiss on your forehead, drawing circles on your back. 
“can i have it now then?” you ask innocently, but yukhei’s ears pick up the hint of playfulness in your tone. 
“right now?” he asks.
“yeah. what’s stopping you?”
“oh, i’ll give it to you now.” yukhei tells you lowly.
the cheeky smile on your face morphs into an ‘o’ shape as his grip on your waist tightens, guiding you towards the bed where you both crash against the mattress. there’s a moment of silence as he hovers over you, suavely tugging his shirt off with one hand and dropping the crumpled fabric next to your face. 
“thanks.” you whisper.
it’s hard to ignore the way your core is perfectly aligned with his when you’re lying underneath him in a hoodie and a pair of grey boyshorts that have been testing his patience for a while now.
yukhei runs his hands up your thighs to your sides, bunching the hoodie up to your chest. wet open-mouthed kisses are left all over the smooth expanse of your tummy and he takes delight in how hard you’re breathing.
“it’s no problem, baby.” he replies nonchalantly, his fingers pulling at the waistband of your boyshorts. “anything else you want before i take this off?”
you shake your head and shoot him a silly smile, and it’s all yukhei can remember before he embarks on yet another mission to please you with his mouth. then he makes love to you again, his warm touch roaming every inch of your body which he memorises to perfection. 
later, when you’re both sated and holding onto each other like two long-lost lovers, yukhei dreams of you again. this time, he’s hiding another velvet box in an even bigger bouquet of roses as he sits nervously in a dimly lit living room, waiting to surprise you when you get home. 
the thought of you being his forever is enough to make him smile in reality, enough to push him through the upcoming months of separation. yukhei was more than ready to be done with that. 
--
it’s only been a minute since you’ve gotten home but the place already feels too big for one person — which is laughable because your apartment isn’t even that huge to begin with. now that yukhei is gone, it feels as if life has been sucked out of these four walls. it has reverted back to nothing more than a roof over your head and a living space for one.
after hanging your coat up and stepping out of your shoes, you stroll to the kitchen and lean against the counter, staring into thin air with the refrigerator whirring softly behind you.
even though it’s only three in the afternoon, it has been an awfully long day for you. the few hours you spent outside drained you and all you did was sit at a restaurant with yukhei and his family for one last meal before sending him off at the train terminal. 
the meal was nice and the send-off was not as bad as you thought it would be. but it was still an emotional farewell and you shed a few tears despite it being nowhere as difficult as the first time he had to leave you. 
you and yukhei stood at the train platform hand in hand until the train finally arrived and came to a stop in front of everyone. 
you let ten and kun attack your boyfriend with their bro hugs first, followed by mrs wong who affectionately caressed her son’s face and repeated her fifth “take care of yourself, my little soldier boy” of the day, and lastly, a less-emotional mr wong who gave his son a few encouraging pats on the back.
looking around, you were filled with dread as you watched the same thing happen with every other soldier who was hugging their loved ones and waving goodbye to them.
when everyone left and when it was just you and him again, yukhei instantly pulled you into his arms, clearly just as reluctant as you are to face this moment.
this was it.
he pulled back, cupping your cheeks and smiling at you forlornly. you stared back at him, taking in how smart he looked in his uniform and the beret framing his beautifully sunkissed face, and mustered all the strength in you to not cry. 
it was impossible. tears swelled in your eyes within seconds and you couldn’t help it, the harder you tried to force them away, the more they wanted to spill out. you silently chided yourself for how naive you were to have wished for a tear-free farewell.
“don’t cry, baby.” yukhei pleaded softly, his big eyes looking watery too. “remember what i said?”
you swiped your tears away with the sleeve of your turtleneck and nodded frantically, not trusting your voice at the moment. 
“i’m gonna come home to you. we’re going to live our lives together.”
his voice was soft yet grounded with conviction, calming you down instantly and offering you the consolation you needed. 
“i’ll be waiting for you.” your voice croaked and you rolled your eyes at how pathetic it sounded.
“i know you’ll be.” yukhei smiled, gently stroking your back. “and you’ll be getting your first letter really soon, i promise.” 
“something else i get to look forward to.” 
you tightened your arms around him, closing your eyes to really savour what it felt like to be in his arms one last time before forcing yourself to let go. 
yukhei interlocked your hand with his, pressing a kiss to the back of it and stealing a glance at your favourite ring.
“i love you so much.” you said, adjusting the collar of his uniform thoughtfully. “eat well and be safe, okay? don’t worry about me. you know you can call me—”
he intercepted you with a long kiss to your lips, letting go only when you pinched his arm. unlike him, you weren’t bold enough to be this affectionate in public. 
“i will.” yukhei answered breathlessly. “promise me you’ll sleep early and not overwork yourself while i’m away. i need you to take care of yourself too.” 
“i promise.” you mumbled, locking your pinky with his as you looked around anxiously. “you should get going now. don’t want you missing your train.” 
he squeezed your hand to bring your attention back to him. “i love you.” 
“love you too.”
and with a final kiss to your lips, his hand loosened from yours, reaching for his haversack on the ground and swinging it over his shoulder in one go. 
“text me once you’ve settled down?”  
“i will, baby.” 
after one last peck to your forehead, he turned around and trudged towards the edge of the train platform, where kunhang had been taking pictures with his sisters while waiting. you stood rooted to the ground as you watched your boyfriend’s figure become smaller, waving at him when he turned around to look at you one final time before getting onto the train. 
ten and kun kindly gave you a lift home afterwards. you nearly teared up again when you walked past the parking lot and spotted the two of them patiently waiting for you in the comfort of their heated car. on the way home, they even made dinner plans and insisted you didn’t spend the rest of the day alone — which you were extremely grateful for. 
you still have a few hours to yourself before meeting them, and it dawns on you that you should probably take a short nap after the sad amount of sleep you got last night. so you force yourself to stop moping and drag yourself to your bedroom to find a comfy set of clothes.
you spend what feels like hours under the hot shower that by the time you step out of the steamy bathroom, the skin of your fingers are wrinkly. just as you start combing your hair, your phone buzzes, its screen lighting up to show you a single notification. 
you whisk it off the table, gaping at the sight of yukhei’s name staring back at you. 
[from: yukhei][sent at 4:10PM]
hey baby i miss you ♥
[to: yukhei][sent at 4:10PM]
miss you too :(
you guys back there already?
[from: yukhei][sent at 4:11PM]
we’re still on the train
i didn’t get to nap. kunhang snored so loudly :(
[to: yukhei][sent at 4:11PM]
poor baby… 
[from: yukhei][sent at 4:11PM] 
it’s fine
your boyfriend is a strong man. a day without a nap is nothing :D
you snort at his reply. the typing icon appears next to his name so you wait for his next text. 
[from: yukhei][sent as 4:12PM]
anyway, i left a surprise in your desk drawer for you
i think you already know what it is ;)
you don’t. 
[from: yukhei][sent at 4:12PM]
i hope you like it baby ♥ 
you never know what to expect from yukhei because he’s always surprising you with the sweetest, most meaningful gestures. even the story behind your promise ring has you in wonder still. when you pull open the drawer and realise just what he had left for you, a huge grin spreads across your face and you take a second to appreciate the sight of it. he was truly something else.
there, carefully placed on top of the paperwork you had kept in the drawer, is an envelope with your name on it.
“yeah. you’ll be getting your first letter really soon, i promise.” 
you reach for it, immediately peeping inside when you notice it’s unsealed. there was indeed a letter as yukhei had promised. you recognize the lined paper that he clearly tore off from one of your notebooks and assume he wrote this secretly while you were sleeping. the mental image of that melts your heart. 
to _____, my favourite girl in the world.
i have been staring at this blank piece of paper for ten minutes now while you’re sleeping so peacefully. i still don’t know what i should write for my first letter, so here’s an old-fashioned love letter from your admirer for life, your boyfriend, and your future husband: me <3 
you giggle to yourself like an idiot. it’s funny how a single paragraph could switch your mood instantly, how yukhei manages to make you happy even though he’s so far away now. 
was that too cheesy? i’m sorry. you know i’m not a poetic person even though i wish i am. you’ll probably laugh as you read on but that’s okay, because i want you to be happy whenever you read this. 
so where should i begin? 
how about the first time we met? when i saw you sitting at the back of mum’s restaurant, i had butterflies in my stomach (is this how that phrase goes?) and quickly hid in the kitchen. do you remember? 
the smile on your face grew as you continued reading yukhei’s letter. it spoke of the vivid details of all your firsts in your relationship, of the little habits you have that he adores. of the warmth and safeness he feels when he’s around you, of how in awe and inspired he is by you — and how lucky he is to get to experience all that for the past few years and hopefully, the rest of his life. 
by the time you reach the end, you’re laughing and crying. you miss him so much.
i love you, _____. nothing else matters. you’re the light of my life and i hope i can keep making you feel the way you make me feel: safe, happy, and loved. 
until we meet again,
wong yukhei
p.s. i hope you’re not crying. and if you are i really hope it’s because i made you laugh too much. 
you reread the letter again, letting his voice linger in your head for a bit because you’re not ready to let it go yet. then you laid on the bed for a good fifteen minutes as you stared at the ceiling with his letter clasped to your chest, yearning for his presence all over again. 
it’s going to be fine, you tell yourself. you can handle a few months without him. after all, you already have. and he’s never completely away from you, you realise, as you hold your hand up and admire the gorgeous ring shining in the afternoon sunlight. 
for now, that’ll do. 
--
305 notes · View notes
thr-333 · 3 years
Text
Drastic Measures- Part 5
@daminette-december2019-2020
~Sweater~
Shoves romance to the side and shoves friendship in your face!!!
Ao3
First< Previous > Next
----------
“Marinette,” Adrien whines as she opens the curtain the second they get back, “Sleep,”
“Just a minute, I want to design Damian something,” Marinette takes up residence at the desk, throwing open her sketchbook, “I will be friends with him!”
“Wasn't he kind of a jerk to you?” Adrien flops onto the bed, Plagg rig after him, "I think we should go back to that point, maybe sleep on it,"
“You were a jerk too~” Marinette sing-songs finishing up a rough sketch of a sweater.
“I was trying to get the gum off your seat!” Adrien slams his hands down.
“Sure you were~”
“Mariiiiiii,” Adrien collapses back into the bed covers, muffling his whining.
“Come on you,” Marinette collects her sketchbook, “Come get material with me,”
“No, it’s time to sleep,”
“It’s midday,”
“Your point?”
"Ok, Plagg 2.0 should I get you some camembert while I'm out too?"
"I'm up!" Adrien sits bolt upright, "Never call me that again,"
Marinette ends up dragging Adrien out of the mansion he pouts as Alfred delivers them into the city she thanks him profusely.
“We were just in the city why didn’t you pick up fabric then?” Adrien walks by her side down the street.
“Because I’m stuck between 2 concepts and I need to see the fabric before going forward,” Marinette bounces along looking through the windows there are quite a few craft shops in the area which suits her just fine.
“Please don’t run off,” Adrien gently holds her sleeve, “Marinette this city…”
“It’s filled with a dark energy,” Marinette agrees, even in this nicer area had something ominous hanging over it, “It’s like it’s seeped into the city’s very bones,”
“And the Akuma aren’t helping things,” A child across the street starts crying and they both instinctively lookout.
“On the plus side at least hawkmoth doesn't send Akuma after every little thing,” Marinette forces herself to relax, moving on as the kids parents comfort them.
“On the downside, he sends them after emotions that are a lot worse,” Adrien follows along into a store as Marinette filters through the shelves.
“Maybe but we can handle this,” Marinette absent-mindedly raises her fist, meeting Adreins, “Do you think I should make something for everyone, you know as a thank you?”
“I haven't gotten them anything,” Adrien takes the armful of fabric Marinette passes him as she brings out her sketchbook to select old designs.
“I’ll handle the making,” Marinette ticks off a vest she thinks with be perfect for Bruce, “And you handle the finances,”
“I stole my father's credit card,” Adrien says with a grin, “He’ll probably find out where I am soon anyway so might as well start using it,”
“In that case,” Marinette pulls out a roll of incredibly expensive fabric, “We also need new phones,”
“And we should go out for lunch,”
“Get our hair done?” Marinette adds, looking at her half hacked off hair “I still need to fix mine from this,”
“I was thinking our room could use a chair?”
“And the bookshelf is looking a bit empty,”
“A nice expensive rug would really liven up the room,”
“Would it be completely inappropriate to get a motorcycle?”
“Yes,” Adrien agrees, “Let's do it,”
They stop to get new phones first, having destroyed their old ones when they ran away. Adrien finds the most expensive restaurant in town, but it's on the far end so they stop to get a motorcycle first.
“I didn’t know you could ride,” Adrien gestures for the waiter in their private room, “Yes can I please have the duck?”
“My Nona taught me,” Marinette sips at the most expensive drink she can legally buy, “I thought you hated duck?”
“Oh I do,” Adrien grins, which drops when his phone starts ringing, “How did he even get this number?”
Marinette looks over his shoulder to see Gabriel trying to call. Adrien purposefully hangs up rolling his eyes.
“We should go do our hair next,” Adrien leans over the table with a manic grin, ”I was thinking of dying it hot pink,”
“Love the concept,” Marinette cringes at the very thought, “But the execution is flawed, you need to dye it a color you actually like not one just to spite your father otherwise he's still just controlling your life, just in a different way,”
“You're right,” Adrien sighs leaning back examining his blonde locks, “What do you think?”
“A nice pastel or cherry blossom pink would look amazing,” Adrien perks up at the suggestion he can still keep the pink, “Actually I might do that too- oh wait! Will that affect our transformation?”
“Not unless you really want to deep down,” Tikki explains, her and Plagg gorging themselves on expensive cheese and treats.
“Well deep down I really don't want to give away our identities like this,”
“It’s a plan then,” Adrien smiles, “Now do you want to order anything else?”
“Thanks but I’m full,”
“What's that got to do with anything?”
 ---
 “Looks great Nette,” Adrien gives her a side hug, the hairdresser shooing him away while he does the final touch-ups.
“Are you talking to me or yourself?” Marinette smiles at the new and improved shock of pink hair.
“Well obviously I look fabulous, but you look great too,” Marinette rolls her eyes at him looking back in the mirror. Instead of evening out her hair, they had made it look like her little episode was actually intentional giving it nice layers and even doing an undercut on the other side. Unlike Adrien, she didn't go all pink, instead the tips being white ombre up to pink and then her natural hair color.
“Thanks, you have to send a picture of your hair to Nino he's more invested in your teenage rebellion than you are, he’s probably also hurt you left him out of the running away part,”
“He has suggested, more than once, running away together,”
“Why what's wrong with Nino's family?”
“Nothing at all,” Adrien quickly covers, “I think he just really wanted me to run away, his mum offered to pack us lunches,”
“Well, maybe we could have used the turtle,” Marinette sighs, “But I could do that to Nino, you already had to leave Kagami behind, have you given her a call yet?”
“Oh um, about that-" Adrien points at her tapping his chin thoughtfully, "Never mention it again,”
“Adrien,” Marinette scowls, “Call your girlfriend,”
“She’ll kill me,” Adrien hides partly behind a seat looking meek, “Also you don't get to lecture me, you haven't called your parents,”
“That's different,” Marinette groans sinking into the seat, only to get told off for moving, “They’ll want me to come home, how am I supposed to explain that I can’t,”
“They’re your parents,” Adrien stresses, “I’m sure they’ll be happy enough to know your ok,”
“Maybe,” Marinette hums, the cloth being removed from her shoulders letting her get up, “I just feel so bad for putting them through this,”
“Maybe one day they’ll understand,” Adrien walks with her to the front to pay.
“Maybe,” Marinette looks down at the bill, “Wow this is a lot more expensive than the usual dye job,”
Made sense because they were in the higher income distinct of the city.
“Why Marinette,” Adrien grins swiping the card, “That's the point,”
Ten minutes later they were laughing as calls kept pouring in one after the other. They are only interrupted when they get the distinct feeling of an Akuma.
“Duty calls,” Adrien sighs putting his phone on silent.
“Seems so, at least we can call out skills multiple times," Marinette walks casually into an alley with him, “What are you up to?”
“About three,” Adrien shrugs transforming, “It takes about double the time for the transformation to drop now,”
“Same, wish I could say that gives us the edge but really it only keeps us from falling off the cliff,” Marinette also transforms, her new costume bringing a smile to her face.
“How eloquent my lady,” Marinette playfully pushes him, Chat catches himself catapulting over the building, she quickly follows behind.
The Akuma is standard, Marinette guesses the akumatized item is the wrist watch. The problem comes with their recurring thorn in her side.
“Ladybug-”
“Get out of the city,” She cuts Batman off, “Yeah, yeah let us handle this first,”
Marinette throws her yoyo out just in time to deflect an attack headed at Chat.
“Do you need any help?” Robin asks, Marinette smiles, partly at the aghast face Batman makes.
“Do you think you could tag-team it with me?” She asks formulating a plan, with the extra help she might not need the lucky charm, “Make your attacks big and draw his attention, grab the wristwatch if you can,”
“On it,” Robin gives her a nod jumping into the fray, Ladybug doesn't give batman a chance to object running after.
Robin does a good job they work in perfect sync falling back when the other moves to make an attack. When the Akuma focuses on them too much Chat swoops in and gets their attention giving them the chance to swipe at the wristwatch. It goes on she sees Robin get thrown back after another failed swipe at the wristwatch. Ladybug takes the chance to move forward grabbing for the wrist, she isn't watching out for the other arm, the impact hitting and sending her flying back.
“I got you,” Her momentum is stopped by a hand bracing at her back, saving her from crashing into the adjacent building.
“Thanks, Robin,” He helps steady her as she finds her footing again, “I’ll move in you follow me up,”
“No need,” He smirks brandishing the watch.
“You did it,” Ladybug beams, taking the watch and smashing it to the ground, “Great job!”
“Ah, thanks,” Ladybug doesn't pay attention to how Robin brushes, focusing on purifying the Akuma and fixing the damage.
“We made a pretty good team,” Ladybug turns to Robin when everything is settled, “Pound it,”
Robin meets her fist with some hesitance, which disappears when she smiles at him again.
“Ladybug!” Batman yells heading their way.
“Ops sorry,” Ladybug cringes, “Sorry! Cant stop gotta go, bye bye!”
They run from the scene faster than Batman can hope to catch them. They end up back at her newly brought bike stacked with fabric and protected by a bit of luck. Marinette races home to make everyone's gifts, knowing just who she wanted to start with.
 ---
 “There you are!” Marinette exclaims, having spent the past half hour searching the manor for him.
“What do you want?” Damian snaps as if he wasn't just playing with the cat on the floor half a second ago.
“Nothing, I made something for you~” He continues to scowl but Marinette doesn't let it discourage her, “Here, I didn’t know your size so I made a baggier style, do you like it?”
Damian takes the sweater holding it up to where she put it on him looking down a little shocked. Marinette almost wants to laugh at the expressions trying to shift back from awe to disinterest, it’s cute. She smiles wondering what his face would look like if she made a matching one for the cat, and maybe Titus too.
“.... It’s well made,” Damian eventually allows, folding it over his arm, Marinette notices how his fingers linger on the soft fabric.
“Good to know,” She smiles, bidding him goodbye before the moment can be ruined. She bounces down the hall humming to herself.
“Someone's happy,” Tikki flies out of her bag.
“He liked it, why wouldn't I be happy?”
“Someones really happy,”
“Stop it Tikki,” Marinette giggles, making the kwami laugh in turn.
“Just like adrien~” Tikki sing songs floating down the hall ahead of her.
“Well then, keep Kagami far away from this one,”
“Don’t turn into a stuttering mess and we have a deal,” Tikki agrees.
“Please Tikki I’m not thirteen anymore,” Marinette brushes her off, ready to go make the others gifts, if she spent the whole time humming to herself Tikki wasn't going to explain why to Adrien.
---------
Taglist? nope don’t have one, horrible at keeping track of them sorry~
254 notes · View notes
official-weasley · 3 years
Text
Dealing with Everything - (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)
Warnings: grief with a wholesome ending 💙
Word count: 3,508
Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here
Nova
“Mum, I don't know how to thank you enough for staying with us this past month.” I placed two cups on the kitchen table and gestured for my mum to join me.
“No need to thank me. You both lost loved ones in the battle, you need time to process everything and recover.” Mum stood up, careful not to wake Aoede who was peacefully sleeping on the sofa.
“Mhm.” I hummed and sat down as my mum joined me.
“I know I ask you every day but how are you? And please try saying something else than you being fine. Aoede is sleeping so you have no excuse not to talk about your feelings.”
“Honestly, I don't know how to deal with it.” I felt tears gathering in my eyes. “I never thought I would have to attend a funeral of one of my closest friends while we're still in our twenties. And then seeing Charlie so down, not being his cheerful self, sleeping most of the time and eating a meal per day and even that has to be forced. And then there's her,” I nodded to where Aoede was sleeping, “it is so unfair to her for her parents being so absent. She deserves all the love and attention and I know she misses spending time with her dad and I...” I took a deep breath. “...I just force a smile and hug her as much as I can but it's not fair to her. I just...I can't help it, mum, I...”
“Shhh.” Mum pulled me in a hug as tears started running down my face. “It's okay, sweetheart. It's reasonable for you to feel this way and trust me, Aoede is too young to notice that you are hiding your emotions. I have been with you every day since you came back and you are doing great with her.”
“Really?” I sniffed.
“You will have enough time to love her as you think she deserves to be loved and I admire you for being so strong and laughing and having a good time with her.” Mum bestowed me with a small smile.
“She's the only thing that makes me smile every day.”
“Give it time, sweetheart. You will heal.” She brushed her fingers through my hair.
“I know. It's just...it's so hard. I can't even explain what happened to me when I saw Nymphadora like that and then all those thoughts about Teddy losing both his parents and thinking that the same thing could happen to Aoede, it completely destroyed me.” I buried my face in my hands.
“She was one of your best friends, Nova. It's only natural.” Mum tried calming me down.
“And the worst part is is that it wasn't as painful when dad died and I feel so guilty for that.”
I bit my tongue when I said that. I didn't mean to ever say it out loud, especially not in front of mum but it has been eating me alive.
“Nova, you were 14 when you lost your dad. We process death in a different way at that age and you said it yourself that now looking back you would react differently than you did and you didn't lose anyone else close to you until now and you're 25 years old now. You see things differently. You said you cried your eyes out and 5 minutes after that you went to find Harry to see how he was doing while you were falling apart yourself. When your dad died you didn't even know how you got to the Burrow that's how wrapped up in your grief you were.”
“I guess,” I shrugged my shoulders, “we were never close but I had this need to tell him that everything will be okay.”
“You have that after your dad.” Mum smiled at me. “He also put others first no matter how down he was.”
“Well, I have to be strong for my daughter and I have to be there for Charlie. Yes, losing Tonks has been hard and I know I won't be over it any time soon but Charlie lost a brother and I feel so helpless.” A new set of tears ran down my cheeks, me looking at the stairs that lead to the upper floor.
“I know how grateful you were when Charlie was by your side when your dad passed away, just remember what he did back then. You two are so similar and nobody knows him as you do. I am sure you will find a way to comfort him.”
“I will think of something,” I said absentmindedly.
“And while you do, I will be here for you both and help you around the house and with your beautiful baby girl.”
“Thank you, mum.” I sniffed and she pulled me into a tight hug.
“I told you to stop thanking me. Now that the war is over and I can retire, I can finally make up for all the lost time that I couldn't spend with you.” She smiled at me.
“Well, we love having you around and we have more than enough room so you are welcome to stay for as long as you want to.”
“Does Charlie still have nightmares?” Mum whispered after a minute.
“Yeah, he wakes up at least once per night. It's either Fred or Tonks.” I said, not even trying to hide the concern in my voice.
Ever since we came back Charlie has been having nightmares every night about his brother and our friend being killed or in a situation where he couldn't help them. Even if he denies it, I know he is trying to blame himself for what happened. Perhaps not so much for Tonks as for Fred, but the guilt is there.
“Can you watch over Aoede so I can go and check on Charlie? Perhaps I'll have more luck getting him downstairs for lunch for a change.” I said after a few minutes of us both sipping our tea in silence.
“Of course.”
“Char.” I gently knocked on the door of our bedroom.
“I'm awake.” I heard him say in a husky voice.
“Hi.” I smiled at him, happy to see him sit on the bed instead of lay in it. “What are you doing?”
“I am going through the family album.” He tapped on the bed for me to sit next to him.
I sat down and he turned the pages to get back at the beginning.
“Look, it's me and Bill when we were 3 and 5.” Charlie gave out a small chuckle.
“You two had the same haircut?” I giggled.
Arthur gave him the photo album when we moved to Romania and every time Charlie felt homesick we went through these pictures together. I have seen these photos so many times but I was so happy that Charlie was willing to speak and share it with me right now that I pretended I was seeing them for the first time.
“Hey, don't judge. We were adorable.” Charlie nudged me with his elbow.
“And here is us making cookies. And seeing Percy for the first time. And, oh, look! It's Freddie and Georgie's first birthday.” Charlie tilted his head, thinking I wouldn't be able to see that a tear marked his right cheek.
“It's okay to cry, Charlie,” I said in a whisper.
“I just can't stop, Nova. I am trying to get back on my feet. I want to get out of this room and go back to my everyday life. I want to play with our daughter and hear her giggle and I want to help you around the house. I am so useless and I just lay around all day feeling sorry for myself.” He closed the album and buried his head in my shoulder, sobbing.
“Hey, hey. First of all, you are not useless. I know you don't see it but I am not doing the best either. I don't know what I would do if my mum wouldn't be here to help us and you don't need to worry about the house. It can be a complete mess for all I care if it meant you would get better. Char, you lost a brother, how else are you supposed to feel?” I pressed him harder against my chest, neither of us wanting to let go.
“I just don't know what to do with all this pain. I have never had to deal with death before. How do you do it?” He loosened the grip around me just a little bit and looked up at me with his eyes red and puffy.
“Well, I have learned that talking about your feelings helps. It also feels good to cry and get a big, tight hug.” I pressed my forehead to his and smiled softly.
“It is also very nice when Aoede tells you one of her adventure stories. Honestly, I have no idea who she got such a vivid imagination from.” I smirked.
“Really?” Charlie chuckled. “I would take a wild guess that it's after us since we're both such daydreamers. But it's probably from her uncle Percy.”
“Yeah, probably.” We laughed together for the first time in a month.
“What time is it?” Charlie asked after us being embraced in silence for 15 minutes.
“It's going to be 2 I think,” I whispered.
“Oh, it's Aoede's nap time.”
“She'll wake up soon and I can bring her upstairs if you want.” I couldn't help but grin at him.
I was so proud of him for being so strong and coping with everything as he is. I was just happy that he was willing to talk about his feelings to me and telling me the truth about how he feels.
“No. I'll come downstairs.” He kissed me before getting up and walking to the closet.
“Do we have any plans for lunch yet?” He asked as he pulled a shirt over his head.
“No. I wanted to ask you if you were craving something just that I could make you eat anything.” I answered truthfully.
“I am sorry I have been so stubborn about it.” He bowed his head, sitting back next to me.
“Stop apologizing, Charles. All your behavior is completely normal for someone who is mourning.” I ran my fingers through his hair.
“Could you pull it up in a bun for me? I love when you do it.” He shook his head a bit, making his curly locks fly everywhere.
“It would be my pleasure.” I smiled and reached with my hand to the nightstand where he had a hair tie.
“So, why did you ask what we are having for lunch? What would you like?” I asked as I was trying to comb his hair with my fingers.
“Pancakes.” I felt his body vibrate in a giggle.
“Want to make them together?” I suggested with the biggest smile on my face.
Pancakes weren't only a tradition in our household on Sundays but they were our favorite comfort food too.
“You read my mind, love.” Charlie turned around and kissed me tenderly.
We both looked at the door when we heard Aoede giggle.
“Right on time.” Charlie clapped his hands together excited to spend some time with his daughter.
“I know you are happy to get out of bed and spend some time with us but just know that you don't have to force it if you feel it would do you better just being wrapped in a blanket and sleep all day. Know that we are not mad, we just want you to be okay.” I helped him get up and we started toward the door.
“I know. Thank you for giving me time and I don't know how I will feel tomorrow but right now I want to spend some time with my family.” He smiled at me and I couldn't help but smile back – I missed his smile so much.
He made us stop halfway downstairs.
“Also, I am thinking of going to see George tomorrow or maybe the day after that. We both lost a brother but he lost a twin and I haven't talked to him at all since...you know.”
“Okay, whatever you have to do.” I entwined our fingers and squeezed them together.
“Also, how are you dealing with everything? I am sorry for being such a lousy husband. I didn't ask you once since we came back.” Tears started gathering in his eyes again.
“I told you to stop apologizing and I am doing okay.” I shrugged and gestured for us to continue walking downstairs.
“Which is Nova language for I have to be strong for you and I don't care how I feel.” He raised his eyebrows at me, extending his arm to reach the wall so I couldn't walk past him.
“No, really, I am okay.”
“Stop lying to me, love. We promised to each other to always share our feelings no matter how bad they are, so stop pretending I don't know you better than that.
“I don't want to talk about it right now.” I blinked a few times, trying to hold in the tears, avoiding Charlie's gaze.
“It's a beautiful day outside. We can ask your mum if she would be willing to go for a walk with Aoede and we can have a proper cuddle session on the sofa and talk it out?” Charlie suggested.
“I think that's a brilliant idea.”
We both turned our heads to my mum who was smiling at us at the bottom of the stairs.
“Mum, Charlie suggested we make pancakes for lunch. Is that okay with you?” I brushed the tear that ran down my cheek and started walking downstairs again.
“Pancakes?!” I heard Aoede jump off the sofa and her little feet running toward us.
“What do you say, Pumpkin? Want to help daddy make pancakes?” Charlie's face lit up when he saw her and picked her up at once, placing a kiss on her cheek.
“Yes, please!” Aoede started clapping excitedly and pointed to the kitchen.
I sat down at the kitchen table along with my mum and watched them make a mess out of the place while making pancakes. One egg smashed on the floor and the flour was everywhere but nobody cared because of how much fun those two were having. Aoede was giggling so much that she hardly had the time to breathe and I heard Charlie genuinely laugh for the first time in a month.
After we were all too full to walk as Charlie and Aoede made way too much pancake dough, we all settled down on the sofa where Aoede fell asleep in Charlie's lap within minutes.
When she woke up my mum took her for a walk as we asked her to and as Charlie promised me, we stayed on the sofa, cuddled, and cried our eyes out while talking about how we feel and miss the people we lost.
I felt so much better talking to him and finding out how he is. I was so afraid for him just being in our bedroom all the time but I was patient and I hoped he would get better with time and as he said, we don't know how we will feel tomorrow, but today was a very good day for both of us.
Charlie
I took a deep breath before I knocked on the door of George's apartment. I didn't know what I was going to say to him. I was more mentally preparing myself to see in what state he is.
I have been a mess for the past month and even though Fred was my brother I didn't see him as often as George did and I definitely wasn't as close to him as he was. Those two were inseparable since they were born.
I felt the need as an older brother to see how he was doing and see if I could help him in any regard.
I wrote to Bill this morning, inviting him and Fleur to visit us in Romania and I wrote to my mum that she could expect us next week. I wasn't all there yet – not even close, but I was good enough to see my family and be a proper husband to Nova and a father to Aoede.
“Charlie, what are you doing here?” George's eyes widened when he opened the door.
“I came to visit you if that's okay.” I smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of my neck.
“Of course it is!” He pulled me in a hug so tight that it took my breath away but I didn't care that I couldn't breathe – it warmed my heart that he was so happy to see me. “Come in, come in!”
“Want some tea or something sweet?” He asked the second he closed the door behind us.
“Tea is fine, thank you.”
“Are you visiting mum and dad or Bill?” He gestured for me to sit down.
“I am only here to see you,” I answered honestly.
“Oh.” He let the word escape his mouth.
“I, uh, I haven't been doing well so I wanted to see how you are doing.” I took the cookie he offered me without asking why he has a full basket of them.
“I'm doing as good as someone can when they lose a brother.” He forced a smile. “Have been baking a lot, thus the cookies. Tell me what you think of them.”
“They are actually really good,” I said with my mouth full, “I had no idea you could bake.”
“Yeah, they are? Neither did I to be honest.” He sat down next to me, waiting for the water to boil.
“Are you alone all the time?” I couldn't hide the concern in my voice.
“Have been at the Burrow for a week but honestly being around mum is kind of depressing. I mean I understand, we are all a bit messed up but it's just not the environment I need right now. Bill visits me a lot and so does Ron. Ginny stayed with me for a week a few days ago and Angelina comes to hang out here and there.”
“How are the others? We are going to visit mum and dad soon but I have completely isolated myself.” I shook my head, I wasn't proud of it.
“I think we are all about the same.” George shrugged his shoulders and I saw that he wasn't keen on talking about our family.
“Should I even ask how you are?” I whispered.
“I miss him so much, Charlie. I feel like a part of me is gone. All our hard work, everything we did together, it's just memories now. I know it's going to be better with time but it's just so hard to think that this feeling inside my chest – the emptiness of him no longer being with us – will ever go away, you know. I never had to deal with something like this, especially not...” He stopped talking when his voice broke and stood up to finish making the tea.
“Me neither but I have some experience when Nova's dad passed away. You know how hard it was for her and if I have learned anything from her is that being patient with yourself, giving yourself time, and talking about it when you feel like it, is what makes it better. I wish there was a spell to make the feelings you have go away but despite being wizards, we are still only human and we have to deal with it the natural way.”
“I know. I just wish I could've been there with him, protect him, perhaps take his place or just be able to say goodbye if nothing else.” George released his tears, staring into his teacup.
“I wish the same but know that whatever you wanted to tell him, he knows.” I stood up and lifted his chin for him to look me in the eyes and hugged him.
“Thank you for taking the time and seeing me. It means more than I could ever say.” He returned the hug.
“If you have too much time on your hands, you can come and visit us in Romania. Spend some time with us. Bond with Aoede a little. Her laugh is contagious and honestly the best for mending your heart. And she loves to help and cook so perhaps you two could make a mess out of the kitchen together and make cookies.” I giggled.
“Truth be told, that sounds like exactly what I need.” He sniffed and gently pulled away.
“You are welcome anytime, brother.” I smiled at him and returned to my seat.
“How about you spend the night here and we go tomorrow?” He smiled back. “Oh, you know what never mind, you probably have other plans.” He hurried to say, his ears turning pink.
“Not at all,” I tapped him twice on the back, “you are definitely coming to Romania with me tomorrow.”
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illfoandillfie · 3 years
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Don’t Talk To Me About Love
Day number 4 of the Platonically themed event! This is another idea thats sort of been bouncing around my head since I posted Platonically. In the months since then I’ve started and stopped this blurb about 60 times - at one point I intended it as a sequel but then ended up absorbing part of the plot into PNDDAOF. But here we are. It is somewhat complete and I’m much happier with it now then I was before. 
Yet again, this blurb is inspired by a song - Don’t Talk To Me About Love by Altered Images (less the lyrics and more just the title but it’s a bop so like check it out anyway lmao) 
Words: 2,150
Warnings: It’s about the Communication. There’s talk of an argument but nothing specific and honestly this is mostly just about the two of them Dealing with something out of the ordinary. 
Every morning with Ben follows the same pattern. No matter who wakes first, no matter how long it takes you to get out of bed, Ben will greet you with a kiss on the cheek. It’s a litmus test of your disposition and a lesson hard learnt. Most days you’ll lean into him, wrap your arms around him, press your lips to his, snuggle back into his embrace, and he knows that it means you’ll be okay with the actions that convince others you’re boyfriend and girlfriend. But every so often it’s different. Those days, what he has come to call your no romo days, his cheek kiss will be returned but you’ll pull back before he can sweep you into something deeper, a sign that you don’t have the patience or energy or whatever it usually takes, to deal with romance. Those days are few and far between, mostly occurring months apart, seemingly at random. But because of that it took quite some time before you got the hang of dealing with them as partners. On your own it had been easier to avoid romantic expressions, but with Ben it was harder to manage.  
The first time it happened after you’d started the QPR, you tried to push through, tried to ignore the tension you felt as he unexpectedly kissed you, his hands pulling you into him. There was a sudden urge to run away, your blood running cold, and Ben must have sensed that something was off. He was always observant where you were concerned. When he asked if something was wrong you pretended there wasn’t but he kept badgering you until you told him what was up. Unfortunately you sort of bit his head off, frustrated by the constant questions. You immediately regretted your tone and choice of words but the damage was done, Ben’s expression one of hurt and confusion. Before you could try to explain better he’d left the room. He gave you space for the rest of the day, barely crossing your path at all, but it was too much space, an overcorrection. And that made you mad more than anything else. After all you’d warned him that this happened sometimes, that you had days where you were repulsed by the thought of anything romantic, completely turned off by actions that could be read as such. How dare he be hurt by it, as if you were an inconvenience he had to endure. He was the one who suggested you do the QPR thing in the first place, why did he suddenly think it only included the times you were acting closest to a regular girlfriend. At that point you hadn’t yet moved into his house so you left and slept in your own bed that night, sick with worry that you’d ruined everything with Ben, that you’d wake up in the morning to find not only your QPR broken but that your best friend wouldn’t want anything more to do with you at all. You felt stupid to have thought that a QPR could work, that you could ever fit anywhere. Clearly you were meant to be alone.  
But the next morning brought rational thought and rational conversation as well as a higher tolerance for romance. Ben called to make sure you were okay, confessing to a fairly sleepless night spent worrying if you'd got home safe and feeling bad about how you’d left. But you could hear his smile when you invited him over to talk about it, could practically see it in your mind’s eye. And then you saw it for real, a proper grin, when you’d opened the door and dove into his arms, burying your face in his shirt. He’d squeezed you tight, relieved that things between you were still good. It took a serious conversation to sort out what had gone wrong. You tried to better explain what it was you felt - the queasy feeling at the idea of being involved in any sort of romantic act and the discomfort when confronted with romantic imagery or depictions of romance and romantic couples – reassuring Ben that it wasn’t anything he’d done, and he apologised for giving you the cold shoulder, admitting his distance had been because he wasn’t sure how to act around you. Talking it out helped and when you were done, both feeling like you better understood what would help the situation, you curled up in bed together to catch up on the sleep you’d missed.  
The next time, nearly six months later, you’d been better prepared and, though it was still a little rocky, it had gone smoother. Ben didn’t try to avoid you, so you didn’t feel as abandoned as you had the last time, but you made sure to maintain some distance from him, knowing his feelings were different to yours and not wanting to put him in any awkward situations. There were moments when neither of you knew what to do or say, moments when it felt like you were both treading on eggshells to try and avoid a repeat of the last time. But when you asked to take a break from the TV series you were halfway through because the romance plotline didn’t hold the same enjoyment it usually did, he seemed to understand and agreed to what you needed. The time after that had been barely a month later, far sooner than you were expecting. You supposed that your relationship with Ben was having an impact. After all it had been a while since you’d last been in a romantic relationship and though what you and Ben had wasn’t that, it did cross some of the same lines. Surely it was natural that your mind would try to balance things out by making you feel unequipped to deal with romantic subplots and sentimental love songs more often than before. Or at least that’s how to tried to explain it to Ben when he made a huffy comment about the increasing frequency of your romance repulsed days. If it hadn’t been for an interrupting phone call from his mum, you might have fallen into another fight. Instead, you spent the time he was on the phone thinking about why things felt so hard, trying to come up with possible solutions. You went over some activities in your head, comparing how you usually felt about them and what you felt when you were romance repulsed. Cheek kisses still felt okay because they were generally a way you showed affection to everyone you knew, but being kissed on the lips seemed to cross a line, no matter how it was done. Cuddling too could be okay depending on the context but you’d probably prefer not to just to be safe. Sex on the other hand was a big question mark You’d never tried having sex on a no romo day before, but you assumed if emphasis was put on the physical pleasure it could work, though maybe positions that didn’t force eye contact would be more enjoyable. But perhaps that was better left to be explored when you were both more comfortable with the situation. Even dinners out together and datey things like that could be doable if you didn’t have to deal with candlelight and intimate seating.  
As soon as Ben was finished on the phone you tried to explain your thought process to him.   “The way I think about it is like...regularly I have a mental picture of what actions I feel are platonic and what actions cross into romance. Sometimes those lines aren’t super clear like with kissing, but I know which it is when I see it or experience it.” “Right, like how you don’t mind spooning in bed and getting really close but on the couch you prefer to rest your head on my lap or whatever.” “Yes, exactly. It might all be considered variations on cuddling but to me there's a big difference in how they feel. Well a no romo day is like if you took all of those distinct lines and moved them over a little. The lines are still there but the image is distorted and not quite what I’m used to seeing.” “Okay,” he stretched the word out thoughtfully, “so...it’s not that everything feels romantic it’s just that your tolerance levels have changed?” “Yeah, I think so. It’s not easy for me to understand either. Especially since sometimes things change more than others. But yeah, that’s pretty much it. But my big question is what do you need? I don’t want this to become a big problem or cause fights every time it happens so, what’s going to help make it feel more normal for you?” Ben thought for a moment, “Physical contact. I don’t mean that in a sexual way either, just physical contact. I mean you know how touchy I can be. It grounds me. Even just a hug or, y’know, rubbing my back as you walk past me, things like that. A high five even. If we’re out with the others it’s not so bad cause they all know what I’m like too and none of them will mind if I lean on their shoulder or sit on their lap or whatever. But when it’s just us...I need that physical contact to feel settled and I guess it’s been harder to feel okay about it when you flinch away from me. Makes me feel wrong just because I want to be close to you.” You were a little stunned by the honest and carefully considered way he responded to your question, and felt a little bad about trying to force space between you, “I knew you liked that sort of thing but I guess I didn’t realise how important it is for you.” Ben shrugged, “Normally it’s something I don’t even think about. But with you lately it’s like I just haven’t known what to do.”He paused, biting the corner of his thumb nail as he thought, “I don’t think the way I love you is entirely platonic anymore. I mean it hasn’t been entirely platonic for a while now but those feelings aren’t going away. And I’m not saying that to make you feel bad or anything, it’s just how it is, and I think it’s part of why I’ve been so weird or whatever about this whole romance repulsion thing.” “Yeah it must be kinda hard to understand what I mean,” “I’m trying to understand it and I’m trying to be respectful. But you gotta give me a little more. And you have to be more understanding of where I’m coming from too.”
After that, you both made adjustments to accommodate the other and talked through what solutions worked and what didn’t. Ben spent some time consulting google for ideas and found you a playlist of songs that had aromantic vibes or at least could be reinterpreted so the romantic meaning was more relatable for you. And you made more of an effort to keep up a physical closeness with him – sitting shoulder to shoulder as you watched TV and shared a bag of microwave popcorn, rubbing your hand over his back as you stepped behind him in the kitchen, surprising him by placing a cold hand to his face or stomach when he wasn’t expecting it – even on regular days when you didn’t hate the way it felt to be held by him. You figured that emphasising those sorts of small physical gestures would help both of you in the long run. Every so often something would arise that needed a little extra discussion but you both took them in your stride and did your best to be accommodating and patient.  
And by the next time a no romo day occurred, things were as close to perfect as you could hope for. You wriggled out from under Ben’s arm when you woke, better able to recognise the sick feeling  creeping up on you. Stepping out of bed you switched Ben’s oversized sweatshirt for one of your own and tiptoed down to the kitchen putting your anti-romantic playlist on softly as you made coffee and toast. When Ben eventually surfaced he pressed his lips to your cheek but he already felt you wouldn’t want anything more than that, putting together the pieces and proved right as you gave a small shake of your head. He gave your waist a brief squeeze in acknowledgement before turning toward the fridge to begin his own morning routine. And just like that you knew things would be okay. You couldn’t say you knew what he felt or that you entirely understood it but, yet again, Ben had shown that his love for you was less about Love and more about you. And you hoped he could see that you cared for him just as strongly, even if you felt it differently.
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Chapter 5
The Black Brothers
Josephine Fawley or as her brother liked to call her the tomboy Princess had a striking romance with Hogwarts very own Pureblood rebel Sirius Black.
Sadly her parents deemed his Brother the so called Slytherin Prince as a better fit and arranged a marriage with the younger Black.
Tw: Arranged marriage, possible smut, swear words, lots of fluff, angst, mentions of abuse and depression,
Part 1
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The Newts went by in the blink of an eye and before any of them knew they were back at the platform 9 3/4.
“I will miss you so bad,” Isa said and Joey’s insides felt warm. Isa wasn’t one for sentimentalities usually and having her openly talk about missing her made her happier than she would ever admit.
“I’ll miss you too, Isa.” She said, pulling the girl in a quick hug.
“Hey Isa, don’t steal away my girl,” Sirius’ voice said from behind, earning him a playful shove from Joey.
Isa waved a last time before going to look for her parents, leaving the couple to bid their goodbyes.
“Farewell Princess.”
“We’ll see each other at the next boring pureblood ball.”
“I’ll still miss you like crazy.” His hand cupped her cheek, making a blush creep up on her. How could he make her feel this way, even after all these years?
And then kissed her. He kissed her like it was the last kiss they ever shared.
After pulling back, both teens were slightly panting.
“I’ll miss you too, Black”
“Write to me, love.”
“Every day.”
And with a last playful wink the boy disappeared between the people, going to find his parents - or hiding from them.
Just seconds later, Quentin appeared next to the girl.
“Let’s go, mum and dad will be waiting.” He said, nudging her.
It only took the twins minutes to find their parents chatting with the Malfoys, and even though Quentin’s expression remained rather neutral, Joey could practically feel her brother’s blood boil at the sight of Lucius.
Their Mother was the first one to see the twins hugging them both and mumbling something about having missed them. Their father just nodded at the scene, bidding his goodbyes to the Malfoys.
“We have something to tell you when we come home.” Cordelia whispered to her children before grabbing Joey’s hand.
Joey and Quentin exchanged a look.
With a plop the family landed back at the Fawley residence and Joey inhaled the familiar scent of Lavender and Moth balls that always seemed to linger in the old house and didn’t pay much attention to her mother asking for a teatime with the family to discuss ‘important matters’. At least until Quentin took her hand, and she felt just how clammy and sweaty his hand was.
“It will be alright Quen.”
He shook his head. And Joey prayed they weren’t going to tell her that his depression got worse.
With a weird feeling in her stomach, she made her way to the sitting corner in which the Fawley family always drunk their tea, carefully pulling Quentin behind, who seemed almost frozen into place.
Their parents sat opposite to them, both seeming suspiciously smiley.
“What’s up?” Joey asked, not able to take the tension anymore.
Her mother inhaled sharply before letting her catlike green eyes meet her daughters. “We arranged a marriage for you, Josephine.”
“You what?” The siblings asked simultaneously.
“We arranged for you to marry a respectable pure blood gentleman.” Her father explained, not looking his children in the eyes.
“Absolutely not.”
Her mother pursed her lips. “I fear you don’t have a choice, Darling.”
“You were always against that bullshit,” her brother spat, his voice being louder than ever.
“Things change, circumstances change.” Their father said, just earning a scoff from his son.
“It is the best for all of us.”
“Not for me.”
Her mother looked at her sadly, “You don’t have a choice.”
“Oh hell, yes I do.” Joey screamed, standing up, running into her room, still faintly hearing her brother argue with her parents.
In her room she pulled out her trunk, chaotically throwing clothes, pictures and other prized possessions in it. She didn’t know where she was going to go, but she knew she needed to go. Hot tears streamed down her face, she always thought her parents were different, sure most pure blood families had some weird beliefs about keeping their blood pure therefore arranged marriage looked like the best thing to do, but her parents always seemed to accept that their children would go their own way.
A faint knock on the door alerted the girl of her mother’s presence.
“Can I come in?”
“In your words, I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“We made a deal with the family years ago,” her mother sighed suddenly looking decades older, “we promised them you would marry their son in exchange for safety from the dark Lord.”
“What has Voldemort to do with all this?” her Mother flinched by the mention of his name.
“The family is very close to him. They inform him about blood traitors, eventual followers and all that.”
“So I don’t have a choice?”
“Not if you want your loved ones to live.” Her Mother said simply giving her daughter a reassuring squeeze before going out of the room leaving Joey at a complete loss.
After the initial shock, there was only one thing on her mind: Sirius.
She fidgeted with the silver ring on her left hand, knowing that she always wanted to marry him, spend her life with the boy she loved above everything else, and now she would have to face a relationship like Narcissa had with Lucius.
The lump in her throat grew bigger and bigger, and she barely noticed the tears streaming down her face mercilessly.
Perhaps the worst heartbreak isn’t getting broken up with, perhaps the worst heartbreak is knowing you have to break up with someone who you still love with every fiber of your body.
-
Two days had gone by, but Joey didn’t even seem to notice. Everything went on in a blur and no words from Isabella, who she wrote to immediately nor her brother, could pull her out of her misery.
“You know you need to break up with him, don’t you?” Her brother just asked, while soothingly drawing circles on her back.
“Isabella said I should break his heart really bad to make it easier for him,” Joey scoffed, tears still rolling down her cheeks.
“That’s a terrible idea, even for Isabella.”
“You just say that because you hate her. She said, I should just tell him I am in love with someone else.”
“Josephine, don’t do it, please. People will know about the arranged marriage just like they know about Lucius and Narcissa.”
“I could still love him though.”
“Sirius isn’t stupid - not that stupid at least.”
“If I tell him the truth he would try to fight the bloke in some deathly duel or something,” she laughed humorlessly, “he’d do anything for me.”
“You don’t need to tell him a reason to break up with him.”
“Don’t you think I owe him one?”
Her brother stayed silent, engulfing her in a hug, while her tears left a wet patch on his shirt. Quentin knew better than to argue with his sister. She already made up her mind.
-
Joey had asked Sirius to meet her at the park bench he once gave her the promise ring at. Her face was stoic, almost unreadable. She knew she couldn’t show weakness in front of him. She couldn’t make him question her decision. She needed to be confident and cold.
She already saw him from afar, his long hair hanging in his eyes while he comfortably sat in the grass even though a perfectly intact bench was right next to him.
As soon as the boy saw her his eyes lit up and he stood up to hug her, but she took a step back making his eyebrows snap together in confusion.
“We need to talk.” She said instead of a greeting slowly making her way to the bench.
“What’s wrong, love?”
She forced herself to look into his concerned eyes that were so full of love for her and she knew Isabella was right. She would have to break him so he could let her go.
“I am breaking up with you.”
Sirius’ eyes widened in disbelief, his hands fidgeting with each other like they always did when he got overwhelmed, and Joey had to resist the urge to hold them.
“Why? Joey we can fix this I-“
“I made my decision.”
He swallowed hard, and she saw tears starting to pool in his eyes.
“Why?” He asked again, his voice cracking.
“I found somebody else.” She said simply, not daring to look into the stormy grey eyes she was still very much in love with, “and I am in love with him.”
“I love you.” Sirius said, his voice barely above a whisper and it took everything in Joey not to say it back.
“I should go.” She said, not waiting for an answer before standing up and taking fast steps towards the point she knew she could Apparate away in safety. A small part of her hoped he would run after her, tell her he saw through her act, tell her he knew how to get out of it but he didn’t so she let the tears that she was holding in since the moment she saw him sitting next to the bench fall but to her surprise she didn’t feel the hurt anymore. Instead, her heart felt cold, as if it was made of ice or as if someone had just burst through her rib cage and taken it out, leaving only an empty space.
Sirius Black felt like he was having a heart attack, and for a short second he thought about admitting himself into St mangos hospital but he came to the conclusion that maybe having a heart attack right now wouldn’t be too bad because the one person he trusted and treasured over anyone else made his worst fears come true. He knew he was always jealous, but that was just because he knew deep inside that a guy like him could never keep a girl like her. That a girl like Josephine didn’t settle for family disappointments with lots of baggage, but he still tried and for a brief moment he thought he could be happy. Now he knew that some people just aren’t meant to be happy.
For the first time since the couple started dating, Sirius lit up a cigarette, inhaling the deathly smoke deeply, hoping that it would kill the sadness in him.
Sirius Black’s world became dull that day.
Unbeknownst to both they had the same essential question running through their head, ‘who is this other guy’ but while Sirius would have to wait some time till his question got answered, Joey had the option to confront her parents.
Of course she could have done this earlier, but she had to admit she was scared of the answer. She knew most pureblood families and couldn’t say she particularly liked them. Additionally a family that was close to the Dark Lord was bound to be involved in the dark arts and at least to some extent evil.
She shuddered at that thought; she heard all the stories about arranged marriages - the regular rape, the abuse and the fear and she wasn’t keen on joining that club. So when she saw her Mother that day ready to confront her - she couldn’t.
She couldn’t bring herself to ask.
Actually, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything besides lay in bed and sleep, she didn’t even have it in her to cry anymore. Even after her Mother informed her she was going to meet her future husband for dinner, she didn’t have it in herself to react.
In the end it was her brother who brought back the girl’s spirits on the day of the dinner.
“Oh no, you are not meeting your future husband looking like that.”
“Why? He has to marry me, anyway.” Joey said, rolling over.
“Go shower. Now. You smell, and if you don’t shower, I will conjure a bucket of ice water and shower you myself.” He said while rummaging through her closet.
Joey frowned, not being used to her brother being so authoritarian, but she did as he said, too tired to argue with him.
Even though she would never admit it, the shower did make her feel better, and the dress her brother chose made her feel like a real life princess.
“You have to do your clown paint on your own, I have no idea what that stuff is.” He said gesturing to her makeup and for the first time in eleven days Joey chuckled.
She was just doing her eye makeup as her mother came in, a sad smile decorating her face. “You never asked who.”
“Does it matter?” Joey asked, applying mascara.
“It’s Regulus Black.”
Joey almost poked her eye out as she heard that. Her heart hammered desperately against her chest.
“Why not Sirius?” Quentin asked the question Joey wanted to ask so desperately. “Isn’t he the oldest?”
Her mother made a sound with her mouth, “We discussed this matter but Sirius and his family have a complicated relationship, they want regulus to make the proud.”
And Joey felt like her heart broke all over again. She was so close to getting what she wanted, yet destiny had ripped it away from her again. If this was a story, the Author had to be downright cruel to put her through this.
-
At the Black Mansion Sirius - for the first time in his life felt completely and utterly broken. Hot tears ran down his face, and he couldn’t contain the sobs coming out of his mouth.
He almost didn’t notice his Mother coming in hitting him with the stupid Black family ring she was so proud of turning it outward so it would leave deep cuts on his cheeks.
“Crying is something for muggles and weaklings. Not for Blacks.” She screeched, but he didn’t care, he never cared for anything his parents wanted or said, he only cared for her and his friends and maybe Regulus even though his loyalty to their parents could be infuriating sometimes.
“We have guests this evening. If you aren’t on your best behavior, I will crucio you right in front of them.” His mother sneered, and Sirius knew from experience that she meant what she said.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” His Mother grabbed her wand and Sirius bit his lip till it started bleeding.
“Yes, ma’am.” he grumbled quietly, just hoping that she would disappear soon so he could be sad in peace.
Walburga strutted out of the room, locking the door behind her, making Sirius sigh.
He looked around his room trying to ground himself, the red gryffindor flags, the muggle band posters from bands he didn’t know just to spite his mother, the pictures of the Marauders and of course the pictures of Joey that he didn’t yet have the heart to take down, her smile illuminating the whole room even through a picture. Tears filled his eyes again, yet he didn’t dare to cry. Instead, he got out his wand, muttering some spells to heal the wounds.
A few hours later Sirius was well aware of how horrible he looked, skin pale, deep rings under the eyes and his usually shiny hair hanging matted over his eyes, this look being further enhanced while standing next to his brother who looked more and more like Sirius every day, sharing his aristocratic features. But other than Sirius;, Regulus looked amazing, his tie in place, his hair combed and his shoes cleaned.
Sirius saw the disgusted face his mother gave him before gushing about Regulus and he couldn’t help but feel accomplished at his disheveled appearance that hopefully would disgust any weird poor blood family her mother invited for today.
“Adrian, Cordelia! How nice to see you.” Walburga greeted, making Sirius’ blood run cold at the mention of Joey’s parents’ names; and really just behind the two middle-aged wizards and next to Quentin, the girl of his dreams, stood. Her usually wavy hair was curled and neatly pinned up, leaving just a few strands to frame her beautiful face.
Sirius stood there frozen as the other people greeted each other. Joey stiffly shook his hand. Her eyes looking cold and disinterested, just like the first time Sirius saw her at the pureblood ball.
Joey, on the other hand, felt immensely grateful for her brother standing beside her, as she didn’t know where she should look. She was scared to look in Regulus eyes seeing the familiar cold and steely gaze of her future husband and even though she wanted to, she knew looking in Sirius’ eyes would just open up a Pandora’s box of feelings.
The dinner went over like a blur, Walburga asking lots of questions that were being answered politely, mostly by Cordelia.
As dessert came - crème brûlée, finally the point of the entire dinner was made clear.
“Josephine, Regulus, as you both know we arranged a marriage between you two, binding two of the most pureblood families together by law.” Orion said, his voice cold and calculated just like Regulus’ voice was. Sirius started coughing uncontrollably, choking on the water he just tried to drink, earning himself dirty looks from the pureblood parents, Orion especially looking at Sirius like Walburga looked at discounter clothes. “Don’t mind my son, he doesn’t take news like a gentleman, another reason why we chose regulus over him.”
Joey looked up from her plate - the first time this evening and her mask broke for a short second and Sirius saw how deeply horrified she looked before she went back to smiling politely with the same cold disinterested eyes every pureblood kid learned to have at a young age.
“We expect you to be a pleasant couple till you marry, no drama or other nonsense.” Orion continued.
“Josephine, darling, I suspect your parents already informed you about the risks of acting out?” Walburga asked, and Joey’s stomach turned at her sickly sweet voice. Her eyes automatically found Sirius’ for comfort, but his eyes were clouded with shock and something Joey could only interpret as realization.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Very well, how about you two go up to Regulus’ room to get to know each other better, while we discuss the details of the engagement party?”
Regulus nodded wordlessly, taking his future fiancée’s hand leading her up the stairs so familiar of the noble house of black, into his room.
It was the first time that Joey saw a room except the ball room and Sirius’ room and she was impressed at how unimpressive the room looked. The walls were empty except a Slytherin flag over his bed; the room was almost hauntingly neat, and she didn’t see even one personal item.
“I apologize for all of this.” Regulus said, looking at the stoic girl in front of him.
“No need to apologize.” She whispered, her voice sounding hoarse as she took in the room, looking anywhere but into the boys’ eyes.
“I’m sure no girl wants to have that kind of proposal.”
She chuckled at the absurdity of his words, sitting down on his bed, surprised at the softness of the mattress, yet shuddering at the thought of her having to have sex with him on that mattress - or anywhere, for that matter.
“We are practically engaged and you don’t even know my favorite color.” She said, looking into his eyes for the first time this evening.
There was a deep breath, and then Regulus sat beside her.
“Josephine-“
“Why are you marrying me?”
He looked shocked at the question and Joey wished she could take the words back, knowing that she crossed a line and being basically the property of Regulus now, she should maybe at least try to keep the comments to herself.
“Josephine, it’s what our parents want from us.”
“Nobody calls me Josephine, except my parents.” Joey whispered, her voice restrained from the fear pulsing through her body.
“I know, but I didn’t know if you wanted me to call you that.”
Joey looked into his steely eyes, and they looked surprisingly soft and understanding. And a small glimmer of hope tugged at her heartstrings.
“Why do you care what I want? Am I now not your property?” The words came out harder than she intended, and Regulus flinched slightly.
“I’m not a monster.”
Joey stayed silent.
She was glad, as Walburga called them downstairs, looking at them as if she just won the lottery.
“Splendid news, we will hold the engagement party in one week.”, Joey forced a smile but by the falling face of Walburga she could already tell that it came out more like a grimace, “and the even better news is that you will spend all summer with us so you and Regulus can bond and have some appearances as a couple before you marry.”
Joey’s stomach turned. Spending all summer with the guy they forced her to marry, her ex boyfriend who still gave her butterflies and their psychopathic parents sounded like a nightmare.
“We will have a guest room ready.” Orion added coldly, and from the corner of her eye she saw Sirius exhaling in something that looked like relief.
“Oh no, we aren’t in the eighties anymore. She can sleep in Regulus room, they can practice for their wedding night.” Walburga grinned wolfishly, and Joey felt so sick she was sure she would throw up all over the carpet.
Masterlist
Part 6
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Rise Of Glory || 6
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Again, it cries, and again, and again.
Harry and I wander to the cobble steps to his mother's house, Alex asleep in Harry's arms from the long drive. The drive was quiet, not because I am tired but because I don't know what to say at this point. Nothing I do or say is going to change things or make anything better. I am at a loss.
The door opens, and his mother stands in the doorway, bewildered by our sudden appearance. I don't blame her. It is unlike us to abruptly show up on her doorstep. Most of the time, Harry gives her a heads up.
She grants us her routine tender smile and ushers us inside.
"What brings you two here suddenly?" Harry's Mum questions.
I glance towards Harry, curious as to what he plans to tell her. Telling your mother you only came to visit to see a grave is not something you'd want to admit out loud or at all.
"Uh," Harry clears his throat, "The media have swarmed my building and are starting to come out at the house. We came here to get a break," Harry answers, opening his arms to half-hug his mother, who he has missed dearly, he won't admit it, but he has. He may hate having to come to Cheshire, I don't think that will ever change, but he loves having his mother back in his life at a more constant and healthier level. Their relationship has improved tremendously since I came here when we first started dating all those years ago. I still remember that weekend like yesterday.
It was the weekend I realised that the man I was falling in love with gives everything he has, mentally, emotionally and physically, to his mother and sisters wellbeing. He'd allow himself to drown a million times if it meant his family could stay afloat.
"I'm going to put him down," Harry informs his mother and me, giving me a tired smile before walking past me and down the hallway towards Harry's old bedroom.
Harry's Mum peers over towards me, her brows furrowing and her lips pursing; I can tell her thoughts are ticking away and that something is playing intensely on her mind. She has the same expression Harry has when he wants to say something but leaves the words on the tip of his tongue, unsure of whether to say them or not.
I cock my head to the side, debating myself whether to give her the go-ahead to tell me whatever is on her mind.
"He's lying to me," Anne bluntly states before I can figure out how to ask her what's on her mind, "You had to have left at around 3 in the morning to be here by now. He's tired, almost like he hasn't slept in days," she points out, "And you… you look exhausted too. I don't believe it's the media at your house that caused you both to drive up here… I'm not complaining. I'm just… I'm curious."
"It has been a long week for him. He wanted to get away." I don't know who I am trying to convince more, myself or her.
"He hates it here with a passion. I have seen the articles."
I nod, agreeing with her. She knows the truth. Harry doesn't bother trying to hide the fact that he still hates this place. Even when we first started dating, he made it known he wasn't happy to be back. His home town brings back memories he doesn't want to remember, especially when he and his relationship with his mother were strained to the point they weren't speaking at all. "This is where he wanted to come."
"But it isn't where he wants to be… he hates it up here… are things that bad in London?" She questions softly, and I can't help but nod. She looks me up and down and bites her lip for a moment, almost as if she's holding back whatever thoughts are racing through her thoughts, "Are you and Harry okay? You're not fighting or?"
"We're fine," I immediately cut her off, "It's the business and the media that's pushing him off the rails."
"Mhm," she hums, "And you, are you okay?"
I give her a small smile and nod, "I'm okay."
"You're lying."
"Anne—"
"Honey, don't take this the wrong way, but you look exhausted. Have you slept at all?"
"It's been a rough few months," I softly respond, "It has taken a lot out of me."
The last three months have been an absolute roller coaster, mentally, emotionally and physically. I'm not quite sure how I've managed to keep things together to the extent I have. There are still days I feel like the world's weight is so heavily on me that I can't breathe. There are days I feel like I'm drowning and can't pull myself away. There are the days I feel like I'm finally okay and can breathe, but the second I manage to come up for air, there's something to pull me down, whether it's work-related, family-related or past related.
"Why didn't you call? Harry kept saying you were fine."
"I have been fine," I respond softly.
In all honesty, I have been fine… kind of. I'm as fine as what can be expected, considering the events that have happened. I'm not going to lie, I may be fine, but I'm still very much up and down when it comes to things. There are good days, and there are bad days.
"If you ever need me, I'm just a call away. You know that, right?" She offers me her sweet, caring smile that has always assured me of tough times and situations.
"Yes, I know."
"Okay, go get yourself some sleep."
"I have work I need to do once I get my laptop out of the car. We might be up here, but the business doesn't stop just because we aren't there."
"Well, at the very least, take a seat on the couch, put your feet up and relax for a minute. Let me at least make you some tea."
"You're too kind to me," I smile towards her.
"You're kind to my son. It's the least I can do for my darling daughter-in-law," she beams.
Anne hands me a steaming cup of tea as I answer a few emails from my phone, too tired to go out and get my laptop. "I have one last question."
"Mhm," I hum, waiting for her to ask what is on her mind.
"What happened to his hand?"
"Oh, he was washing dishes and somehow cut his hand," I tell her the truth.
I don't think it is my place to tell her about Logan or that Harry might be losing his mind. Right now, it is up to Harry to speak to her and want to talk about things. I cannot force him. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. Harry will speak when he feels like speaking, and he will tell his mother when he is ready and on his terms.
I don't think I should be the one to tell her that we made the long drive up here just because Harry can't wrap his head around the fact Logan has risen from the dead. No mother wants to hear that as a reason as to why their son has finally visited.
I wish I could say that we visit here often for good occasions, but it is far from the truth. We come up here for holidays, and that is as far as it goes. I have made the drive a few times with Alex to get away from the city, but that has been on rare occasions. Harry doesn't like the idea of me making the drive on my own, and he hates having to come up here. We have settled on staying away from Cheshire and having his mother visit us when she can. I do wish things were a bit different. I do wish we lived closer to his Mum or came up here often. I think it would benefit Harry to be around his mother more and have a family sense. He has my family, but it is different. His mother is irreplaceable, and I know that deep down, he misses his sister. They may not be on the best of terms right now, but I know he loves and misses her.
When Alex is a little older, I would often like to bring him up here to see the neighbours' baby animals. He would love playing with the goats and picking fresh farm eggs, which is not as usual in our life. He would be thrilled to run the fields without a care in the world, a completely different environment compared to home. We have a lot of space for him to run around at home but nothing like the countryside.
❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈
With Harry's fingers laced with my own, I pass the identical headstones that I passed in November of 2021, on the same day we buried Logan.
Nothing has changed about the cemetery. It's still as uncanny and ill-fitting as it was that day. The headstones are still cracked and withered with the voyage of seasons. It is a shame how the graves fade away. It's almost as though since these souls have left earth, nobody cares enough to fix up the graves that have cracked and deteriorated. It bothers me now like it did the day I walked through here a few years ago.
This cemetery is old, at least over 100 years old. I remember noticing some of the inscriptions when I was here last dated back to the 1800s. These monument stones of cold, decaying cement have presumably observed more people and tears of melancholy and exuberance than one could probably picture. And yet, nobody can take the time to take care of the graves. There are scarcely any flowers on the graves.
It disheartens me that as I escort past all these graves, I still feel saddened even years later because we pass by people who have once lived and wandered this very earth.
"Harry, are you sure it's this way?" I challenge as we pass another row of headstones.
I can't tell if my anxiousness tells me we have gone too far or if we need just to leave and go back home. Part of me doesn't want to wander any further than what we have. After all, walking through grave yeards is always eerie.
"I'm sure I know where my dead brother is buried," Harry grimly mutters, "I was here for it." Harry reminds me of the day he endured.
"No need to be so… morbid," I inform him, doing my best to keep my voice low. We don't need an argument in the middle of a cemetery, even if he is a dickhead.
I stop in my tracks, and Harry turns to glance at me as his hand leaves mine, "Why are you stopping?" Harry questions, and I can't help but take a moment to take in his features as a distraction.
I don't know how to tell him that I don't feel comfortable walking in this cemetery, I don't want to go any further, and I don't think this is a beneficial approach. Nothing good ever comes from this place. I push away my thoughts and feelings, "I couldn't remember if I checked on Alex before we left," I lie. I know I checked on Alex before we left. He was still asleep and cuddled up to his teddy bear.
"We both did, love. Mum knows what she's doing, and you know that, relax," Harry responds, kissing my cheek before lacing his fingers back with mine and beginning to walk again.
Harry and I come to an abrupt standstill, and the two of us become withdrawn while we take in the view of what's in front of us. Harry squeezes my hand gently, and I can't help but squeeze back, a small amount of reassurance for him to know that I am right here and that I can see the same thing he can see.
The deafening silence is intruded abruptly and without signal by the ghastly screech of a blackened crow— the same intense screech that I swear I first heard once Logan was buried in this plot.
Again, it cries, and again, and again.
I shiver as a tingle operates through my body, the character of the crow sounding like nails on a chalkboard. This is the same place I stood in years ago when the crow first screeched—Harry was squatting by the grave, gazing at the soil, and I was standing right here.
I take a breath of the crisp air, and my eyes immediately cast themselves on the crow that is shrieking. Its relentless stare catches my own before I take note that it isn't alone. Harry and I are outnumbered and are intently observed by one… two... three… four… five crows, possibly six; I can't tell if the shadow in the distant tree is one of them or not. Either way, I wish we had never come here. They say if you see five crows, sickness will follow; see six crows, and death will follow.
A gust of wind whisks past us, settling brittle, dead leaves to dance around our shoes to take my gaze away from the crows. I watch the leaves swing around our feet, twirling around us like vines, almost as though they're tightening around our feet and ready to pull us down. I caress my hand to my stomach as I observe the leaves tumbling, leaving me with a heavy feeling in my stomach that twists, knots, and tightens like the motions of the leaflets. The breeze declines, and the leaves become motionless.
I gaze back towards where the first crow was, only to find it gone, leaving me with nothing but an unsettling uneasiness in the pit of my stomach and an abandoned grave of where Logan used to rest.
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secretgamergirl · 3 years
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A Little Horrifying Primer on Transphobes
Some time ago, I put together a Little Fact Checking Primer on Trans People, as a basic resource for disabusing people of some of the many completely ridiculous yet absurdly widespread beliefs about trans people that simply have no basis whatsoever in reality. And wouldn’t you know it, every single lie exposed in that primer is not only still widely believed, but is presently being used as a basis to sign some absolutely horrific human rights abuses into law. So it’s high time I follow that up, in this case focused more on who keeps actively spreading these lies and why. I’m going to try and keep things as light as I can here, but we’re going to be looking at the most monstrous side of human nature, so apologies in advance if this is a dark read.
First, let me just note that there are two things I don’t plan to do in this piece. I’m not going to waste time debunking the arguments of the people I’m highlighting (much of this is already covered in my earlier primer, others have done the work in cases where I haven’t, and frankly these people’s claims should be self-evidently utter nonsense to begin with). I am also going to be very selective in what I link to, or even share related images of, as I would frankly not like to fill a post on a blog I generally try to keep safe for all audiences with media directly dealing with, for instance, child sexual assault, and much of the relevant information also involves stochastic terrorism against innocent people, and I would prefer not to throw more fuel onto such fires.
Transphobes lie constantly, about everything.
To some degree this is obvious. We’re talking about people who scaremonger about the possibilities of trans women dominating competitive sports and assaulting people in restrooms, despite the status quo already reflecting the conditions they insist would make these inevitibilities for decades and centuries respectively, and their grim visions never once having come to pass, and also constantly insisting that the woman in the photo below is actually a man, going further to say this is evident to anyone giving her the merest glance.
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It goes beyond that though. There’s at least a little plausible deniablity in claims like this, or that “science is on their side” if they were simply uninformed about the world they live in, never actually looking into what laws exist, what science actually says, and never actually meeting a trans person or even seeing a picture of one of us. I’m talking really bold lies here. Like wholecloth fabricating a story that a convicted murder was trans, including anecdotes about wigs dresses and a planned name change, in a major newspaper. Or to cite an old favorite of mine, the time a pack of bigots walked up to a crowd of people peacefully picketing a transphobic legal proposal, started roughing them up and taking closeup photos of members of the crowd to stalk online when they got home, got sufficiently riled up for one to straight up assault an innocent person half her size, filmed the whole thing, uploaded it to youtube, and used stills of that assault as acomanying photos when they went home to write articles about the assailant being a “grandmother” attacked by rowdy trans women. And yes, they did monkey’s paw my wish to see that specific image on newspapers. Interesting side note, when it came to real public light that J.K. Rowling endorsed this sort of hatred, it was because she accidentally pasted some profanity laden rambling about how the imagined moral character of the other party in that incident, years after the fact, into a post praising a child’s fan art of her work.
To be a little less niche, transphobes can’t get enough of spreading the lie that the young fellow in this photo is a girl. Specifically a trans girl, providing proof that all their scaremongering about the dastardly threat of trans girls in competitive sports has finally come to pass.
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To be fully clear, that’s a man (or a boy if you want to split hairs about him being 17 in that photo). Mack Beggs. A rather insidious choice for this sort of story, considering the actual context for that photo. See, Beggs attended high school in Texas, during a (still ongoing as I write this) period wherein that particular state had caved to this exact sort of propaganda, and in order to head off a wholly imagined wave of trans girls competing on girls’ sports teams, and enacted a law mandating that in all such competitions must compete under whatever gender is stated on their birth certificates. And as it happens, the first, and to my knowledge ONLY time this has come up was with Beggs here, who again, is a man, as no one with a grip on reality could argue against, has “female” on his birth certificate. Which is another way of saying he is a trans man. The guys in the same boat as trans women who we talk about a whole hell of a lot less because their existence is extremely inconvenient to the majority of transphobic propaganda. Case in point. And this is all information it is really impossible to come across if you’re coming across this photo in any sort of respectable source. Take this story, which is as unambiguous about this as you can get. And yet, in the very comments section of that story, there they are. Carrying on like this story about a trans guy, forced by a transphobic law to compete as a girl, which he absolutely did not want, and received horrific threats over, using phrases like “female to male” and bringing up that he was assigned female at birth and is on testosterone-based HRT, is about a trans woman cheating the system. Or to quote word for word, “Now also transgender female want to be male also compete in female sport. biological born“ That’s not “being confused,” that’s standing next to you in a white desert and complaining about being adrift in a black ocean, bald-faced, not even trying to be convincing just make a power play, lying through one’s teeth.
I could spend this whole article on just this point. Lying about who they are, various people’s falsified credentials, whole websites full of “anonymous parents of children who think they’re trans” turning out to be one single woman documenting the abuse of her very much trans son, or of course the people behind the whole “bathroom bill” panic candidly admitting it was all based on utter fiction. I do have other points to cover though.
Transphobes are firmly entrenched in the media.
It is extremely difficult to find oneself in a position of having to explain to people that a particular group of people is effectively in control of press outlets, as that is rather classically a claim conspiracy theorists absolutely love to toss around at various marginalized groups (including trans people hilariously enough, but of course the most common and lingering version of this is the antisemitic variant). I really can’t get around it here though. Specifically in the U.K., you honestly can say that transphobes control the media. I already touched on this with the assault case I mentioned above and the fabricated story about the murderer, but this is a pretty well-documented situation. I mean, even The Guardian calls out The Guardian on this, and that’s the outlet that gets the most attention because it’s the one with the most otherwise respected name, but every paper in the country has been running transphobic propaganda pieces on a weekly if not daily basis for years now, and while they do get reprimanded by watchdog groups and have mass walk-outs over the worst of it, it’s not like there’s some governing body with the authority to step in about it. Meanwhile the BBC is constantly inviting diehard zealots like Graham Linehan to news programs where he compares being trans to being a nazi, and hosting debates where someone just sits down and repeatedly chants the word “penis” at a trans woman.
Things are better in the rest of the world, but we still have right-wing creeps like Jesse Singal both writing horrific propaganda pieces (we’ll get back to that one) and blackballing trans writers out of covering trans issues ourselves (and personally stalking the hell out of those of us who try). We’ve got our Joe Rogans and Tucker Carlsons out there (no way in hell I’m linking videos here, have a real information link and a still).
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The line between diehard transphobes and straight-up nazis basically does not exist.
What even is there to say here? You can easily poke around havens for nazi activity for yourself and compare the particular unique vocabulary used there to the primary bastion of anti-trans hate speech on the internet (the “feminism” section of what was originally a site for parenting tips before violent fascists took the forums over) or just peruse the follows of the thousands of people I’ve blocked on social media and see if you can sort out a clear division in the networks of channers with frog avatars and the accounts with names like GoodieXXrealwoman, or you can read up on Gab and Spinster, the two twitter alternatives that are just different portals to the same server, set up by the same guy. Maybe do some research into “the LGB Alliance,” or WoLF but any way you slice it the only real difference to be found is the general purpose nazis take a little time off now and then to watch borderline pedophilic anime and the really dedicated transphobes think to use language that sounds vaguely well-educated and left-leaning. I mean, this came from the “feminist” side of the fence:
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And not to belabor the point here, but the ones claiming to be a bunch of “feminist mums” sure do let the mask slip any time they’re confronted with the fact that “women” includes black women, and oh just have a whole thread about all the weird conspiratory theories these people have about how trans people’s whole existence is some sort of Jewish plot for world domination. I swear a few months ago they were all passing around a story about some bank having an above average number of trans employees and they were all just “and we all know who controls the banks, right?” about it.
Transphobes endorse an awful lot of people who are openly pro-pedophila.
This is the part where I am really loath to link the many many specific examples I have on hand. Or to talk about this at all for reasons of good taste. Or, for that matter, to talk about this in a tumblr post when there’s an ongoing problem of people with backgrounds strongly tied to this site making baseless accusations of pedophilia against every queer person they can find, so let me be very clear just what I’m talking about while avoiding anything too graphic.
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That’s James Cantor. Transphobes love him for being one of the closest things they have to a scientist on their side. And I am featuring him in a screenshot here showing that he is followed by current queen of the transphobes J.K. Rowling, while speaking to both another big name in transphobic circles, Debra Soh, and based on their names, what I’m guessing is at least one straight-up nazi. And in case you think “the P” he’s talking about adding to LGBT (or “GLBT” as weird anti-queer bigots who also have issues with women often write it) might stand for “poly” or “pan” he’s all too happy to clarify that.
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This is the entire thrust of Cantor’s work and life. He is the world’s biggest pedophile rights advocate. He wants it declassified as a mental disorder, all stigma on it removed, and tirelessly pushes forward the idea that the majority of.. people who feel compelled to sexually assault children are good people who present no potential harm to anyone and should in fact be lauded.
I am not generally one to claim that someone with a PhD is spewing out questionable garbage with regard to their field, but the reason I am aware of Cantor at all is that other transphobes keep trying to hold up a particular post on his blog as "a study” (which it is not) that offers “proof” (in the form of a blurry jpeg of basically some random numbers) of some ridiculous quackery about how trans kids will “grow out of it” if exposed to conversion therapy (another way of saying torture), which Cantor himself seems to be pushing, so I am somewhat skeptical of his academic chops. And I am, of course, REALLY suspicious that all these other bigots gravitate to him purely because they’re that desperate to find anyone with a PhD in anything that backs them up against literally every scientist in a relative field, to the point that they merely forgive his particular advocacy they are plainly all aware of, particularly when such a common fig leaf used by transphobes is “keeping children safe from sexual deviants.”
And of course, Cantor is most often invoked when coming to the defense of Kenneth Zucker. This Kenneth Zucker.
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Those are separate papers. Zucker isn’t controversial though for organizing panels to discuss how attractive people agree small children are (at least not exclusively). Mostly, he’s known for running a conversion therapy center which subjected gay and trans children to various sorts of torture in an effort to “fix” them, which at least for those trans "patients” I have spoken with involved a fair amount of having them strip completely naked and talking a lot about their genitals.
Zucker is something of a controversial figure with the transphobic scene, as they are extremely on board with his sexual torture of queer children, but he does actual work (for some value of the term) involving trans people and thus is not able to commit as fully as they would prefer to making life horrible for trans people, due to a professional obligation to acknowledge reality now and then. As an aside, the similarly positioned Ray Blanchard, while not to my knowledge particularly interested in the attractiveness of children, lives in a similar purgatory of trying to reconcile his career, bigotry, and sexual hangups, yielding compromises like this:
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Of course, that’s just looking at the straws transphobes grasp at when looking for scientific credibility. Real leaders of the movement include Germaine Greer, author of The Beautiful Boy, which is about what you are afraid it might be, and features a very young child in a cover feature he did not consent to posing for. Or Julie Bindel, who among other things is rather infamous for writing whole articles on subjects like whether a teenage girl she came across maybe has a huge penis you can totally see if you really squint at her skirt. Again, I will not share a link to go along with that one.
Transphobes terrorize and attempt to defund charities and other unambiguously good organizations.
Graham Linehan, previously best known for cowriting some sitcoms and possibly spending a year angling to get into my pants so awkwardly I didn’t pick up on it is now best known for trying to pull the plug on a children’s charity, in a story that somehow also involves Donkey Kong. Well, and the interview about nazis. And possibly the other interview about “defending me from nazis” until it got into his head that I might not be as young and hot as he imagined. Rather not link to a far right extremist youtube channel though.
There’s also a current effort to replace Stonewall (an organization named after the location where a pair of trans women kicked off a riot which is generally agreed to be the start of the LGBT+ rights movement) as the UK’s primary LGBT+ rights organization with the “LGB Alliance.” The hate group mentioned above, with the skull face and the rifle. Closest I can find to an article on that effort on short notice that isn’t propaganda.
Transphobes paper areas in truly disgusting propaganda.
I don’t want to directly link to grown adults skulking around children’s playgrounds and bathrooms plastering surfaces with mass printed stickers of crudely drawn penises, but would encourage you to read this very long post, being sure to load all the images, to really understand how deeply strange this behavior gets.
Finally, I cannot stress this enough, this really extreme behavior I’m citing, and the specific people involved in the examples I’m giving, these aren’t random cranks on the fringe of things. The people going on televised panel discussions, writing up news stories, and testifying before lawmakers in efforts to pass horrifically discriminatory if not literally life-endangering laws (there is a major ongoing effort to legally end all medical care for trans people, and I don’t just mean care directly relating to being trans) are literally the same people involved in the sexualization of children, nazi collaborations, and roving gangs assaulting people in the street. At a bare minimum I urge people, when booking guests and handing out writing contracts, to do background checks and see if they’re platforming actual terrorists. If we could actually bring legal consequences to bear against the worst of this, that would be great too. As things stand though, the whole world is just consistently citing a bunch of racist, woman-hating, serial liars with no real credentials, and questionable attitudes towards the sexual abuse of children, as “trusted experts” and refusing to seat actual trans people or people who have legitimately committed lifetimes to academic and practical work with trans people any seats at the table.
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uwurakax · 3 years
Text
teardrops on my guitar ♡
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pairing: semi x f!reader ♡
genre: angsty // unrequited love // pining ♡
summary: it was like the plot of any rom com; two kids, a boy and a girl who were best friends since childhood and inseparable. you fell in love with him, and maybe he could’ve loved you too. such a shame he grew feelings for someone else ♡
word count: 1.7k ♡
author’s note: i love the pretty setters so much why am i doing this t-t which one next? lolol jk - not proofread sry. also wtf tryna write this on the train then some nub slams into my seat from behind dude u wot ♡
♡ (inspired by teardrops on my guitar by taylor swift) ♡
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“What’s this?”
“A flower duh”
“But.. why...?”
“My dad gives them to my mum. He says he loves her after”
“But why are you giving it to me?”
“Because we love each other right?”
“Yeah”
“And one day we’ll get married and stuff”
“Hahaha, yeah! And then you give me all the flowers!”
A sweet memory, one from many years prior had always managed to pop into your mind at the most random times. You wished it didn’t, an adorable and innocent reminiscence had no place here, only offering confusion and complications. Semi Eita is your best friend, you wouldn’t let your feelings ruin your friendship with him.
Sometimes you’d wonder what would happen if you did actually confess to him. Wondering if he actually did remember the childish promise the two of you made. Neither of you had known of the power and meaning of the words uttered between you at barely 6 years old. The innocence of it all turned into something different.
Something deeper.
You also wondered if he would’ve looked at her. It was way too easy to fall into the mindset of ‘if I had told him, would he have looked at me the way he does her?’. ‘If I said my feelings sooner, could he have held me the same?’.
If I had told Semi I loved him, would he kiss me like that too?
There was way too many ifs going through your head, it was a marvel you could concentrate on anything else. At least during these moments your heart had some reprieve, a minuscule break of the pain you had to endure everyday you saw him with her.
Everyday during lunch, she sat next to him. The couple sitting opposite you at the table and you absolutely loathed it. It didn’t seem fair, the two of them being all lovey dovey, the sight of a picture perfect couple. Flaunting the perfect love they shared to anyone and everyone who saw. It just sucked that you were in the front row.
Everyday at practice she was there, cheering on Semi. Her yells and squeals echoing against the court walls. They easily overshadowed your silent ones. She’d jump excitedly next to you, clapping and screaming for the team. If you squinted, you could’ve pretended that the warm smile he threw over at the both of you was for you only.
You knew better though. Knew that any affection of love held was hers, and only hers. Knew the cheeky winks and blown kisses were reserved only for her. Knew that the uncontrollable feelings you felt for your best friend would never be reciprocated.
For only small moments, you could delude yourself into believing that Semi Eita had loved you the way you loved him.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Jogging towards you, you handed Semi his water bottle, a small smile tugging on your lips. He wasn’t looking at you though. Honestly he never looked at you anymore, not with her around. Even when she wasn’t his eyes scanned for her. Like nothing else even mattered as long as she was there.
You had to hold back a sigh, quietly watching as he stared at her with such loving eyes. You wanted to hate it. Absolutely despise the way he looked at her, but you couldn’t. He looked so happy. Like a scene from a romance movie, he eyed her as if she was the sun, and everything just revolved around her. The whole nine yards of feeling goosebumps and a quickening heartbeat, Semi felt it all.
You wondered if she even knew the adoration he held for her. Despite her back being turned, despite the fact that she was engaged in conversation with someone else, Semi was undeniably smitten.
“You know, I think she’s the one” Semi whispered to you. This was the harsh reality of it all. No matter how much you wished, Semi Eita just wasn’t meant for you.
“You think so?” You tried to hide your exhaustion, numbness taking over your body. You could still feel the pinpricks of heartache however, no matter how much you tried to push it down. And sooner or later, it would overwhelm you until you buried your face into your pillow and cried til you fell asleep. That was a problem for future you though.
“Yeah, I do” he smiled wistfully at her, your heart fracturing little by little. You knew that look all too well. The look of longing, admiration and pure love. Recognised it all to well, because it was the way you looked at him. In class, at lunch and during practice. Whenever he wasn’t looking, you’d lower your wall by the tiniest bit.
You weren’t unknown to the fact that she looked at him exactly the same way too.
Whenever he was concentrating on his work, his serves or chatting with his friends, she’d gaze at him with the same affection that was unknown to Semi himself. It wasn’t hard to be envious. Not just because you were in love with Semi too, but to find something so special was so incredibly rare.
“I’m really happy for you Semi, I’m glad you found her.” You looked away, not wanting Semi to see your face. Sure that if he saw your eyes, he’d see the heartbreak swimming beneath the glistening tears that had just barely started to form.
“Semi!” You heard her squeal, bouncing her way to the both of you and throwing herself in his arms. It truly was unfair how they seemed to meld together so well. Like ying and yang, the moon and tides. You couldn’t have one without the other, so complimentary in existence.
You tuned them out, not wishing to subject yourself to anymore heartache for the day.
“You should join us Y/N! We don’t hang out much and I wanna get to know Semi’s best friend more” she smiled. Her wonderfully radiant smile beamed at you. Pearly whites shining under the lights, it was like God himself blessed her, an invisible spotlight on her at all times. Guess God really did have favourites, and she was impeccable.
“Ah I’d love to but I really have to get this homework done or I never will. Plus don’t wanna intrude” you shyly said. You didn’t know how much you would’ve been able to take.
“Alright fine but next time! Gotta promise ‘kay?” She giggled and snuggled up to Semi’s side.
“Of course, it’s a promise”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
You were slow packing up your books and pens, the lunch bell normally alerting your body to speed your way to your lunch table to prolong the little break you did get.
When you finally did make it to your friends, you noticed Semi hadn’t arrived yet, and the only open seat was next to her. With a quiet sigh, you reluctantly sat down.
Opening your school bought bento, you picked at the egg, too exhausted from everything and just not being in the mood to eat.
“Y/N, you alright?” Her super sweet and feminine voice rang in your ear. Honestly, it was just grating to you now. You plastered on a fake smile.
“Yeah, sorry just super tired” you continued to stare at your food, probably looking like you hated the mix of meat and vegetables. Just for today, you didn’t want to pretend to be okay. Pretending that you were happy for your best friend. Pretending that you weren’t in love with him. Pretending that you didn’t hate his girl even though she did nothing to warrant any form of hatred from you.
“Guess who!” You saw Semi over your shoulder, playfully covering her eyes and hiding one arm behind is back. She giggled out his name, pulling his arm off and giving him a quick peck. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, their public display of affection eating away at you, and making you more infuriated and annoyed.
Semi pulled a beautiful bouquet from his back and handed them to her, her eyes widening in surprise.
Flowers huh?
“Wow Semi, these are gorgeous! But you didn’t have to..” she stared starstruck, unable to look away at the assortment of flora. Pinks, reds and whites decorated the bouquet, and were wrapped in a gorgeous purple cellophane.
“I know, I wanted to. You do give flowers to the person you like right?”
And just like that, your heart completely shattered.
She gave Semi another peck, thanking him for the thoughtful gesture.
You quickly arose from your seat, throwing your napkin and chopsticks into your bento, packing it up and quietly leaving the table.
“Hey, where are you going?” Semi called out to you, both of them looking at you curiously.
“Sorry, just need to go to the bathroom real quick” and you scurried off, throwing away your barely eaten meal with a bit more force than necessary.
When you finally made it to the bathrooms, you slammed the door and leaned your back against it. You started to inhale deeply, the once cute memory that brought you happiness now only gave you pain. You pulled the toilet lid down and sat, not caring if it wasn’t as hygienic as it should’ve been.
Curling your knees into your chest, you buried your face in them and let out the anguish and hurt that had been waiting to spill over. The hot burning tears that you only had yourself to blame for, because you were the idiot who fell in love with their best friend.
You cried until your eyes felt swollen and heavy, the constant friction of repeated rubs on the sleeve of your blazer added to the redness in your eyes. You looked down at your black polished school shoes, unaware of how much time had actually passed. It didn’t matter anyway.
Steadily, you got up from the seat. Once you left this bathroom stall, you’d never cry over Semi Eita ever again. You’d be the best friend, the one who would always be happy for him; and you wouldn’t fake it this time. You’d actively and attentively listen to him about his relationship, no longer going to feel bitter. You’d smile and cheer, and be the most supportive you could be, how you should be. They deserved that.
You’d let Semi go.
Perhaps tonight, with the newly made promises to yourself, you’d finally be able to get some sleep.
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