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#I remember promising someone that I would watch it
girlgenius1111 · 9 hours
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new world
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alexia struggles with the adjustments that come with parenthood cw: angst + fluff, mentions of anxiety
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Alexia liked to think of herself as a calm person. Good in a crisis. She always had a level head, regardless of whatever was going on. 
As she stood, though, cradling your newborn daughter in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks, she felt anything but calm. She felt overwhelmed and terrified and happy and proud. Most of all, she felt love, filling her whole body, until looking down at Mila’s little face felt like all she could do, all she ever wanted to do. 
Alexia thought she knew love. She loved her parents, she loved her sister. She loved you, more than she could comprehend sometimes. This little baby in her arms, that had her eyes, she noted, was so indescribably perfect. Alexia knew her, somehow. Her tiny little nose, the wisps of hair on her head. The way her little hand barely wrapped around Alexia’s pinky. This perfect little baby that was hers, and yours, and she was so overcome with love for Mila, and love for you, that all she could do was sit. Sit, stare at her baby in her arms, and cry. Alexia wasn’t a crier, not really. Here she was, though. And she didn’t care. You and Mila mattered more than anything in the world ever had, and ever would again. 
“Ale?” You said groggily, pulling her out of her thoughts. She turned to you and the look of wonder on her face that had been there since she laid eyes on your baby girl for the first time remained, even now, a few hours later. You smiled sleepily, the drugs from the c-section making you rather exhausted, not to mention the numerous hours you spent in labor. “Come sit.” 
Your wife walked closer, sliding onto the hospital bed next to you. Mila looked absolutely tiny in her arms, and Alexia removed one arm to wrap around your shoulders, and carefully pulled you into her. “How are you, mi amor?” 
“Perfect.” You mumbled back, resting your head on her shoulder. She delicately kissed your forehead. 
“Perfect? Are you sure?” 
“Well, I just had my abdomen cut open and my organs briefly removed. But I woke up to see you holding our baby and I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before. It got scary for a bit there.” You told her quietly, voice thick with emotion. Mila had been… rather reluctant to come out. You’d been in labor for almost a full 24 hours before the doctors decided you weren’t progressing fast enough, the baby was under stress from the position she was in, and they took you straight to surgery. It had been the most painful 24 hours of your life, and the scariest of Alexia’s. 
“I love you. And I am so proud of you, you did so well, mi niña, so well,” Alexia assured you, focusing on the feeling of having you both close to her, and not the anxiety still swirling around inside of her. 
She didn’t know, though, that the anxiety would remain. It wasn’t temporary, a product of her baby’s delivery. It was the start of an almost constant level of stress she faced. Because she felt new levels of love and happiness that day. And with that, came the fear that something would happen to take it all away. 
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Alexia remembered that day so well, the day Mila was born. The best day of her life. She remembered how scared she was. You’d promised her that with time, that fear would fade, and she’d fall into a more comfortable routine of having a tiny human being completely reliant on her. 
The fear didn’t fade. The terror whenever she thought something might be wrong with her baby girl didn’t fade. The anxiety didn’t go anywhere; if anything, it strengthened. Until there she was; sitting in her daughter’s nursery, 3 months later, knees pulled to her chest, just watching the baby sleep. It was the only time she felt calm anymore, really, when she had Mila, and preferably you, in her sight. Safe. If Mila was somewhere else, something might happen. If someone else was holding her, something might happen. If she went too far for a match, or didn’t call to check in enough, something could happen. And she wouldn’t be able to stop it, or fix it. It was a different kind of fear, Alexia realized. The overwhelming sensation that if something were to happen, to you or to Mila, it wouldn’t be something she could recover from. 
So, she stayed home with the two of you, as much as possible. Barring visitors for weeks, even her mom and her sister. If you were all together, under one roof, nothing could happen. It was alright, then, those weeks she had off for maternity leave. Eventually, though, they came to an end and Alexia had to return to training, return to her first love; football. And she still loved it, still needed it. 
But being away from the both of you was so difficult. She was anxious constantly, checking her phone constantly, near tears constantly. Mila was so small. Alexia could practically hold her in one hand. And the birth hadn’t been easy for you, nor had the postpartum phase. Leaving the house felt like leaving her sanity behind, and she didn’t know how to fix it. 
She thought she must be a terrible mother, if she was this scared all the time over nothing. She didn’t want to be a helicopter parent, but she couldn’t help being overprotective of her baby. She just wanted you both safe and happy. 
Which is how she found herself where she was now; awake in the middle of the night. Just watching your little girl sleep, feeling some semblance of relief knowing, visually seeing, that Mila was okay.
Until Mila started to breathe weirdly, in a way Alexia was sure she’d never heard before. Then, the familiar terror, increased about a 100x, filled her chest, and she was taking Mila into her arms, and rushing down the hall to where you were peacefully sleeping. 
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“Amor! Wake up, please,” Alexia pleaded. You stirred, sitting bolt upright when you noticed Alexia had Mila in her arms. 
“What, what is it?” You asked frantically, taking in the absolutely terrified look on your wife’s face. Terror filled you and you rose from the bed, hovering over the baby. 
“Something is wrong, she is breathing weird.”
“Let me see.” You replied, taking Mila out of Ale’s arms easily and cradling her close to your chest. Nothing seemed amiss; she had the hiccups, something she’d had a hundred times. She was half asleep, gazing up at you through cracked lids, and one of her hands lazily moved, searching for your pinkie to grab on to.  
“Hey, little one,” you murmured, before turning your attention back to Alexia. “She has the hiccups?” 
You were slightly grumpy at being woken up for the hiccups, but your annoyance faded when you saw Alexia shaking her head rapidly, fighting back tears. 
“No, no, something is not right. She making a snuffling sound, it is not normal and I do not know what it is or when it started and I think we should take her to the hospital just in case because-” 
“Alexia, breathe.” You interrupted, beginning to understand what was going on with her. 
“NO, amor, please, we can just go please, let me put her in the car and we can go get her checked out.” Alexia cried, and you looked between her and the baby, wondering who needed you more at the moment. You decided it was Alexia, considering Mila had dozed back off. She wasn’t even hiccuping anymore, she was completely normal, completely fine. You placed her on the little cot next to your bed, the one she no longer slept in unless it was during the day, and you wanted her near you. 
“Amor, no we have to go,” Alexia wheezed, pulling gently at the back of your shirt. She was really panicking now, her mind seemingly in a million different places. 
Mila let you put her down easily, and you turned back to your wife, taking her face in between your hands. 
“Alexia, relax. It’s just the hiccups. Mila is fine, completely fine. She isn’t even making a sound anymore, she’s asleep.” She shrugged your hands off to step closer to the cot, looking intently at the slumbering baby. Alexia was rapidly breathing, her hands clenching and unclenching into fists at her side. 
“She is okay?” She asked quietly, turning back to you. 
“She’s fine, my love.” You assured her, opening your arms and letting Alexia fall into them easily. Even though she seemed convinced, now, that Mila was okay, she was still panicking, her rapid exhales hitting the skin of your shoulder as she tried to regulate her breathing. 
“Cariño, I do not know what is happening,” she whispered. “I cannot breathe, please do something.” 
Now Alexia was begging you to help her, and you felt your heart break a little at the fact that she was so clearly afraid for Mila she didn’t even think of herself until she was sure the baby was okay. 
“You’re okay, my love. Mila is okay, I am okay, and you are okay. We’re all fine, we’re all safe.”
“It does not feel safe,” she murmured, and you felt a teardrop hit your skin. 
“Oh, baby.” You sighed, pulling out of Alexia’s strong grip even when she tried to pull you back in. You picked Mila up, and she squirmed slightly, but her eyes fluttered shut again, and you turned to Alexia, holding your daughter out to her. “Take her.”
“Cariño,” Alexia began to object. 
“No, Ale, take our daughter.” You insisted, and Alexia relented, holding Mila close to her spasming chest. You wrapped your arms around the both of them, fitting your face into the crook of Alexia’s neck, gently stroking the baby’s head. 
“She’s okay, baby. She’s right here with you, where nothing can hurt her. Look at her, Alexia. She’s perfectly fine, right?” 
“Sí, she’s okay.” Alexia mumbled shifting Mila over to one arm, pulling you even closer with her other one. “And you are okay?” 
“I am fine, my love. You are okay, too.”
“I am okay too.” Alexia repeated, as if trying to convince herself of it. “It was just the hiccups.” 
You decided to push, just a little, even when Alexia didn’t take her eyes away from her baby in her arms. “She’s had the hiccups before, amor. What happened?” 
“I- I do not know. It seemed different.” Alexia sniffled. You weren’t used to seeing her this distraught. 
You were exhausted yourself, or you would have seen it sooner; the bags under Alexia’s eyes, the slump in her shoulders, the pacing, the anxiety that had completely taken her over. You saw it now, though, like a veil had been lifted in the dim room, and you saw how utterly broken your wife looked. 
“Ale, put her down for a second.” You encouraged. She frowned but did as you asked, her hands gently and expertly maneuvering Mila back into her little cot. “Look at me, please.” 
She turned to you, and you brought a hand up to cup her cheek. “You haven’t been sleeping.” 
“No.” She admitted. “Not a lot.” 
“Why?” 
“I like to watch her sleep.” Alexia said softly, her eyes flickering back over to Mila’s sleeping form, before they focused back on you. 
“Can you tell me why you’re staying up late, watching our baby sleep, instead of sleeping yourself?” You asked. Alexia’s eyes fluttered shut, and when they opened again, they were filled with tears. 
“I have so much fear, all the time. That something is going to happen, and I will not be able to protect her. I love her so much, it is terrifying, amor. I do not know how to be a mom. I do not know how to do this, and I feel like I am doing a terrible job. I just love her, I just want her to be okay,” she sobbed, burying her face into your shoulder. 
“Oh, Ale.” You sighed, pulling her back with you onto the bed until she was laying with her head on your chest, in between your legs. This had clearly been building up for a while, and there wasn’t much you could do while she was so upset. You let her cry into you for a few minutes, running your hands through her hair, and holding her close. The time gave you the opportunity to think, and decide exactly how you were going to approach this. 
“A few months ago, when I freaked out. When Mila wouldn’t sleep without me holding her, and I was so exhausted and anxious, and I convinced myself I was a horrible mother. What did you tell me?” You asked, feeling Alexia tense under you. It wasn’t a fond memory, you falling into her arms and crying, so hard, and for so long, you were almost sick. The worst part was that Alexia hadn’t noticed you were struggling. 
Alexia’s accent was thicker when she spoke, her voice raspy. “I told you that it is an adjustment, and nothing is perfect right away. You are a great mother. That when it is hard, you just need to ask for help, and I will be there.” 
“Does that not apply to you, too?” 
“It is different.” Alexia argued, but you shook your head. 
“No, it’s the same. You’re having a hard time. You need to talk to me, so I can help, not keep it all inside until you break. This is normal, Ale, having increased anxiety after becoming a parent, but you don’t have to feel like this. There are things we can do to make it better, you don’t have to handle it all yourself. Just like I don’t.” 
Your wife didn’t say anything for a while, just wrapped her arms tight around you, and pulled you closer to her. “I am sorry. I should have said something sooner.” 
Trying to get Alexia to be honest about her feelings was something you still struggled with, though she was much better than she had been when you got together. 
“It’s alright, baby. I know this is hard for you. You don’t need to be perfect. You’re doing so well, though, Ale. Juggling all of this with work. You’re so good with her, and I am so proud of you.” Your words were reminiscent of what Alexia had said to you in the hospital, a detail that wasn’t lost on either of you. 
Alexia’s face grew red and she turned slightly to bury her face in your shirt; only you could make her blush like that, and she hoped you never stopped.  “Te amo.” She murmured. 
“I love you, Ale. And so does Mila.” You promised. 
Almost as if on cue, Mila began to cry in her little cot, clearly awake and annoyed that her parents were nearby, and not holding her. Alexia rolled off you, but you shook your head, pushing her back down onto the bed as you picked up your daughter. 
“No, you need sleep. M and I will stay here with you, and you sleep, okay?” You climbed into the bed next to her, laying Mila easily on your chest. She settled instantly, letting out a content little sigh, and Alexia layed down too, her face level with the baby’s. She traced a finger over the small slope of the baby’s nose, over her little eyebrows. Sleepily, Mila reached for her Mami’s hand, happily gripping on to one of her fingers, her eyes fluttering shut. You watched with an almost overwhelming amount of love in your body as Alexia’s eyes shut, too, her hand connected with your daughter’s. Both of them safe, and happy, and perfect. 
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not super sure how i feel about this but thought it was a cute / angst mostly fluffy fic :) also... i'd def be down to write more about these 3!
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vax-merstappen · 16 hours
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press delete pt.2 (cl16)
summary: even though he’s dating a new girl, charles still keeps the pictures of you on his phone.
warnings: breakup, general angst
hope you all enjoy this highly requested part 2! i actually liked writing this one more than the original lol
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Charles had spent all day with the supermodel he had been seeing ever since your breakup. She was good company and had known Charles when he was a kid. He got along fine with her, but they were just friends. Someone he could talk to, even if they would never dance in the rain together or stay up late at night drunk on his balcony.
Just someone to fill the void.
After he had dropped her off back at her place, Charles had driven home himself. He had taken a shower before collapsing on his couch. As soon as he opened his phone, he saw that pictures of them together were already on social media. He wondered whether you had seen. Whether you had cared.
He opened his camera roll, looking back at all the pictures he couldn't bear to delete.
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It was the first time he had invited you to come watch him race, his personal guest in the Ferrari hospitality. You had shown up wearing a T-shirt with his name and number on it, a red Ferrari cap on your head. He remembered how just seeing you in his team gear had made his heart flutter.
You had run over to him in the paddock, pulling him into an embrace. The cameras were flashing, but he knew you didn't care. Charles hugged you back, whispering in your ear how glad he had been to see you. He vowed then and there that he never wanted to let you go.
He gave you a tour of the paddock, showing you the places he knew the cameras wouldn't follow and the best places to grab food before the race. He had spent so much time in various tracks like this that he knew it like the back of his hand. He only hoped you would one day feel the same, having come to many more races of his.
When it was time to head on track, he had given you one last embrace. And before he went, he asked if he could take a picture with you. Him in his race suit, you in Ferrari gear. You happily obliged and he took his favorite picture of the day, just the two of you in his garage.
He would look back at that picture whenever you couldn't make it to a race, remembering that you were cheering him on from home. Even though he hadn't won that day, getting to spend it with you had been its own sort of victory.
As he looked at the photo now, all he felt was regret. Regret that maybe you didn't understand how much you had meant to him and how much better he felt with you around.
He couldn't make himself delete the picture and so he scrolled on.
--
A few minutes later, he found another picture that brought back memories. He chuckled to himself, remembering that day.
It had been Christmas time. You both had spent Christmas Eve with Charles family, as they celebrated the holiday. On the actual holiday, you had asked him to spend a cozy day in instead of celebrating in an extravagant way. He had agreed, wanting nothing more than to spend the day by your side.
But he had to still get you a present, no matter how many times you had insisted the only gift you wanted was to spend time with him, away from everything. He had searched endlessly for the perfect present for you, finally settling on something he knew you would appreciate. It was tickets to see a band you both listened to in concert. One of the first things you bonded over as a couple was your love for their music. It was perfect and he was so excited to see the look on your face when you opened the tickets.
Christmas had rolled around and as promised, he spent the morning cuddling with you in bed. Around lunch time, he had got up to make the two of you a brunch. His cooking skills were lackluster to say the least, so you had joined him the kitchen a few minutes later. He could still remember how you looked in the soft morning light and how you sounded when you laughed at how poorly he had chopped the ingredients of your favorite dish.
About halfway through the meal, he had handed you the envelope with the tickets. He had tried to hide how excited he was, but he knew you could read his emotions like a book. You opened the simple card he had bought and your eyes had widened when you saw the tickets.
But instead of getting all excited as he imagined, you burst into laughter. He felt his face getting red and he started to panic. Had he messed up? What was so funny?
"Mon amour," you had said, finally pausing in your laughter. "Go look under the Christmas tree."
Not knowing what else to do, he had stood up from the table and walked over to the tree. There was a small box underneath. He grabbed it and walked back over to you with a look of confusion. You nodded and he opened it.
Inside were two tickets to the same concert.
"You bought the same thing?" he had asked incredulously.
"Yes. I thought you would love it."
"Well I love it so much that I bought you the same thing," he laughed, now understanding what was so funny.
He had taken a picture of the two of you together each holding the tickets the other had bought. Your smiling faces stared back at him now from his phone. You had known each other so well. How had a relationship so deep crumbled?
He couldn't bear to let go of the memory. He scrolled to the next photo, stopping himself from pressing delete.
--
He had finally reached the last photo from your relationship. It was you, standing on his boat. One of his oversize shirts was on your shoulders. He always thought they looked better on you. With the image, the circumstances under which he took them came back to him. That he would delete it when you two got back together.
He thought back to that fateful day.
You had gone out together on his yacht. He had hoped it would be a lighthearted and relaxing break from the stress that had been plaguing your relationship. He saw you standing close to the edge of the boat and he had remembered a time where you had pushed him into the water, jumping in after him yourself. He walked over with the intention of recreating the fun moment.
But the second he pushed you, he knew he had misjudged the circumstances. You had shouted at him.
"Mon amour, it was just a joke Don't take it all so serious. We are here to have a good time, no?" he said, trying to smooth over the situation and bring some brightness back into the day.
"Not if you are going to throw me in the ocean."
He had sighed, wishing you could just appreciate the day with him. You two had descended into an argument afterwards. He didn't remember what he had said, only that he had wanted to make you see that he wasn't always the villain. Sure, he had neglected you in the past in favor of his career. But he was here now, wasn't he, trying to make it all better?
The rest of the argument was a blur in his head. Up until the point you had uttered the words that finally broke him.
"I don't think this is going to work anymore."
He had tried so hard for you. But his best wasn't good enough and he could see that now. Somewhere along the line you both had lost your understanding of the other person. Your relationship had become built on memories of the past and differing ideas of the future.
He had blinked back tears behind his sunglasses. He didn't want you to know how bad you had hurt him. Charles knew he had his fair share of blame for how things had turned out. He didn't want to cry in front of you now. He could hold it in until he got home, as much for your sake as his own.
The words he said next were crystal clear in his mind.
"Okay. We can take a break. But let me get one last picture of you to remember you by. And when we get back together, I will delete it off my phone so we don't have to remember this day? Ok, ma cherie?"
Charles had taken the picture that stared back at him now. Even now, he could tell how unhappy you were in the picture. It was clearly a fake smile that you had given him.
But even though the picture and the memory of how it all fell apart had pained him, he couldn't bear to delete the picture off his phone. The hope and the promise that he could still end up with you were too much to throw away.
Instead, he clicked onto your name in his messages. He selected the picture of you on that boat. His finger hovered over the send button. He had a choice to make.
But surely if you had wanted to see him again, you would have said something. You were probably happy now without him. He didn't want to ruin your peace. So he clicked out of your messages and into hers.
He sent another text back to the model, asking if she wanted to see him again next weekend. If you had wanted him out of your life, he owed it to you to make that happen. Even if he couldn't make himself delete your memories from his phone.
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hazz-a-bear · 2 days
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LATE NIGHT TALKING, wen junhui
♡⸝⸝ Jun would go through all his practices, his schedules and all the draining busyness of his life ten more times if, at the end of the day, it meant he could still curl into your arms and melt into a bliss of comfort, spilt-tea and a whole lot of shit-talking.
.ᐟ fluff. like no angst this time, i promise. just jun and reader engaging in sleepy late-night talking. jun is the best person to share tea with, change my mind. sugar daddy black card owner woozi makes an appearance (this should be a earning of its own) mention of some sexual activities. some seungcheol slander but we love him. also seokmin being a clumsy little ball of sunshine.
a/n - finally finished a fluffy jun fic because I keep giving him hell in all my other drabbles. took me so long to finish but so so worth it! please give me some feedback <3
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"We should really go to sleep, baby. We have to get up early tomorrow, remember?"
You groan when Junhui reminds you, for the nth time that night, about how you're supposed to wake up at ass crack of dawn tomorrow to go to work.
"Do not even, Jun. I feel a migraine coming when I even think about it" You complain from where you're laying on your stomach, arms spread out and one cheek pressed against the mattress. You watch as Jun laughs next to you with his eyes crinkling and all. He turns his head your way, looking at you with his familiar starry eyes.
"But really, love" He says, bringing up a hand to brush against the back of your head. His arm is bent at a weird angle since he's laying on his back but it doesn't stop him from stroking the back of your head, knuckles comforting running along your hair in an attempt to soothe you down. "I have to leave early too. Rehearsal is starting at 7.00"
"Jun, Noo" You whine, the idea of the two of you two parting for the day annoying you. "Why do you have to go early?"
Jun laughs again as you roll onto your back, ending up half on top of him in the process. Instead of pushing you away, Jun let you sprawl out on top of him without a complaint. You're spread over him, possibly suffocating him, when one of his hands comes up to slither around your stomach. Silently, you let Jun manoeuvre you into the spot right next to him, body curling in on him once you're safely tucked to his side.
"I know, baby, I know. I wish I could stay with you too. I hate going to practices and not seeing you every day"
"Woah" You smile with faux astonishment, looking up at Junhui. "Can you say- here let me get my phone. Can you say that again, Jun. I bet Seungcheol would love to hear that"
Jun watches you with amusement as you reach over him towards the nightstand, where your phone lies. But before you can pick up the device, he's pulling you down on top of him with a fond giggle.
"Oh, you're so eager to get me fired, hm? Is that it? Is that it, baby?"
You push your face into his t-shirt as Jun wraps his arms around you, almost suffocating you as he tries to annoy you with his best baby voice. He continues to coddle you, pulling you more into him and burying his face in your hair while trying to jostle you in his hold.
"Now, now, we can't have that, can we? Who's gonna pay off my Amazon wishlist if you lose your job?" You laugh trying to get out of his grip. "We absolutely can't have you getting fired"
"Woah, your amazon list? The one where you have like ten thousand items on? You expect me to pay all of those?" Jun dramatically gasps as he pulls back to look at you, eyes wide and all kind of dramatic. "Baby, I'm no Woozi"
His comment immediately has you throwing your head back.
"Oh my god, Jun" You speak through your chuckles. You can feel Jun's eyes settled on you, watching you laugh into your sleeve with glistening eyes.
"Speaking of, Junnie. Have you seen that one clip of Woozi handing his black card to Vernon? To get fucking bubbles?" You groan, rolling on top of Jun again. "I need someone to hand me their black card to get bubbles too, Vernon is living the baby girl dream, it's not fair"
Jun groans at your voice, hands coming up to hover over his face. "Baby, I gave you my card yesterday and you got-"
"No, like, imagine Jun. Having a sugar daddy like him?" You suddenly cut him off and turn to him with a serious look in your eyes. "Wait, oh my god. Do you think you can set me up with him?
Jun looks unsurprised while you scramble to sit up from his side in a sudden urgency. "Oh my god, Jun, please. Please tell him to hit me up"
"Yup, of course. I'll ask him" His voice is light, unphased at your eagerness. After all, it's common for him to listen to you and beg him to set you up with somebody from his own group. It happens on a daily basis, with different members over and over again. Last month, it was Seokmin. You had been watching Hansol's 'Black Eye' music video on a loop for the entirety of the last week. And now there's a Mingyu pc dangling from your work bag.
It never bothers Junhui. Because who cares if it was Jeonghan or Jisoo in the back of your phone as long as he's still the one who's in your heart and goes to bed with you every night? (And especially not when the considerably sized Junhui shrine has been sitting in the back of your closet like a proud monument over the years)
"Oh my god, thank you so much. I love you, baby" You whine and reach to press a fleeting kiss to his cheek, Junhui accepts it with a nod and a broad smile. "Ugh, I'm literally on my knees"
"Like you did about thirty minutes ago?"
Of course. This is Wen Junhui we're talking about.
"Junhui, you- oh my god. What the-" You stutter for a moment before, "Wait, wait. Hold up. Why was that kinda good?"
Jun shrugs when you eye him, still in his lying position. "That was a good comeback, Ten out of ten, good job baby"
"Is it blowjob worthy?"
What's the point of his existence if he doesn't throw in some earth-shattering comment at the most surprising time in the most laidback voice?
"Nope" You deny as you lay back down next to him "It wasn't that good, baby, know your limits. And, also, you can't keep getting horny all the time, Jun. I'm convinced you're a dog in heat now"
"Oh, I know you love it, you freak" Jun laughs lightly.
A silence blankets the two of you after that, the only sound falling in your ears being your synced breathing. The night around you is chilly, prickly against the skin of your fingers.
Your body heat has always run colder than usual, palms and feet are always cold. So when you inch towards Jun and sneakily drag your toes against his legs, he's grumbling.
"Yn, no. Cold feet- get away from me" You laugh as Jun tries to shuffle away from you, deemed unsuccessful when you throw a leg over his him and lock him down. Jun continues to let out all kinds of groans of complaint, going off about how he's sick with you trying to rub your cold skin against his.
You listen to his complaints, half bemused and half pretending to listen with a pout. Yet you couldn't help but let a genuine smile paint across your lips at the way Jun keeps talking, hands flailing and everything.
"- See, you're not even listening to me" Jun is staring down at you, his speech on 'why my girlfriend trying to freeze me to death; with proof' long forgotten. "Yn, are you?"
"Not at all, baby" You hum, attention set on the way wisps of brown hair fell against his forehead.
Jun just looks so soft like this. In his sleep shorts, a white t-shirt that you don't know belongs to which one of you, hair feathery against his and eyes laced with tiredness yet not enough to lull him to a night of sleep - he looks like a little pampered baby and it makes your heart swell a little.
"What are you staring at?"
"You look so cute right now" And immediately, even under the darkness of the night, you can see the way a flush washes over his face. Jun is so easy to fluster.
"What do you mean?" He says shyly, looking away. "I always look the same"
"True, but," You reach up, bringing your fingers to brush away the strands of hair that fall into his eyes. Your palm settles into the side of his face, keeping his eyes on you. "You look so rested, baby. So well. I love you like this"
Your eyes flutter close when his lips settle on yours. His hand comes up to hold your own against his face, pulling you to him. It's a lazy kiss, just lips resting on each other and nothing more, nothing less. Your thumb brushes across his cheek like they always do. A simple declaration of love whispered in the dark of night with just a press of lips.
"Let's actually go to sleep now, yeah?" Junhui whispers as if not to disturb the quietness around him. His eyes are still closed and his lips brush against yours when he speaks. "I love you"
You feel him pull away, making you lay down on the sheets again. He reaches towards the bedside table where a silicone night lamp in the shape of a cartoon cat sits. It's the first gift you have given him. No special occasion, just because it reminded you so much of him.
It's been years since you gave it to him, all shy smiles and surprised eyes from him. And to this day, Jun turns it on a moment before the two of you sleep, illuminating a small part of the room in a warm light.
When Jun returns to your side, you latch yourself to his arm. One of you will wake up with a dead and prickly arm tomorrow but neither of you cares anyway. Jun pulls you more into him, legs entangled and your head resting on his shoulder. You're almost certain that he's falling asleep at the silence but no, neither of you are done yet.
"Yn, oh my god. I forgot to tell you" Jun's voice is pitched, excitement bubbling at his words and immediately you're all ears. You roll, almost on top of him, before propping up with your hands under your chin. The angle is uncomfortable, with your hands digging into his chest and you having a view up his nostrils but if the tea is hot enough, you need to hear it.
"Seokmin almost burned off Seungkwan's foot today" Jun says, breaking in a story that happened during practices today.
"What the fuck? How even?"
"Okay, so," And then he starts, his sleep postponed. "Seungkwan wanted some hot water because his throat was acting up. And he asked Seokming to get it from his. So Seok got the flask it was in and you know, he was trying to be extra nice and pour it into the cup and give it to Seungkwan"
"Oh no, Seokmin's hand-eye coordination only works on stage" You gasp, making Jun nod his head frantically. "Did he spill it?"
"Exactly, baby" He confirms with wide eyes, matching with yours. "He almost dropped the entire thermal on Seungkwan. And mind you, yn- this is like hot hot water we're talking about!"
"Oh my god"
"Yeah! He fumbled and somehow ended up with everything on the floor. Right there, in the practice room," Jun finishes with a sad sigh, one hand falling against the mattress and the other on your back.
"Oh, lord. Poor Seokminnie" You say, making him look towards you with equally sympathetic eyes. "I bet Seungcheol made him scrub the floor"
When Jun stares at you with an exasperated look and tight lips, you gasp and sit up a little.
"No way, he actually did?" Your voice is loud as you scramble on top of Jun, an accusatory voice shooting out of you. "That fucker. Everybody knows Seok's not good at pouring stuff or holding things for more than 10 seconds, baby, it's not his fault"
'I know, Seungcheol is just a grumpy old man. He likes to see us suffer" Jun's laughter dies down slowly, and a quietness settles in once again around the two of you.
If there was anything you loved more than quiet nights like this - Jun's breathing against your chest and his hand running down your back in the softest touch, it would be when he starts talking. As cheesy as it sounds, his voice was something you could listen to forever. The way his voice sounds feathery when he's happy, the way it muddles together without a beginning or an end when he's excited or even the way his voice withers in breathy hiccups when he pushes his face into your neck and breaks.
Jun's voice - all slurred words, sometimes jumbled together and spoken in a comforting baritone - was your favourite sound in the whole world.
(That might be a lie because your actual favourite in the whole world sounded something like the voice in the app that reads out your bank balance, but Jun doesn't need to know that)
"You're getting sleepy," The said voice of your boyfriend is what breaks you out of your trance. Blinking your eyes open, you realize you've closed your eyes during your inner monologue without even noticing.
"I'm not. I can stay up," You say in an assuring voice, going to cuddle into the warmth of Jun's body. "I wanna keep talking to you"
Jun's arms tighten around you as you mumble, eyes heavy with exhaustion. You can almost picture him gazing at you with lips down turned and eyes dripping with fond.
"Oh, sweetheart. I know you want to. But we should get some sleep, yeah? Busy day tomorrow for both of us. So let's go to sleep, okay?"
A reply comes to him in the form of a whine. He should've expected you to put up a fight at the end of the day, not wanting to close your eyes and rest instead of staying up late gossiping with him. And as much as he wanted nothing less himself, he also knew the regret you both would face tomorrow if you didn't get enough sleep. After all, neither of you was a stranger to sleeping through alarms, running around the house half-dressed and feeling all kinds of miserable while almost falling flat on your face at work.
"Junni, did I tell you about the love triangle at work? Lord, I don't think it's a triangle anymore, baby"
Jun almost snickers at your sleepy mumbling, eyes drooping and words slurring in a state of half-awake. The way you try to keep the conversations flowing even though sleep is clearly overtaking you gnaws at his heart. His soul swells a little when he is reminded of how much you enjoy chitchatting with him.
Whether it's family gossip, shit-talking about your co-workers or absolutely destroying your neighbour and her seventy-year-old chihuahua - the two of you could go on for hours, days even. And the fact that you are so willing to throw away your sleep schedule, just to spend time with him makes him choke back a sob.
"- yeah, I think it's a lo- love pentagon now. It's all such a mess, Junnie"
"Yeah?" Jun eggs on your mumbling, hand still running down your back in the way he knows would put you to sleep. "Baby, as much as I like to hear about Sarah and her twelve boyfriends, let's go to sleep, yeah? I promise I'll listen to it tomorrow. You can tell me all about it, okay, sweetheart?"
When he finally receives a small nod in return, Jun sighs. Knowing you're too tired to keep it up, he moves the two of you slightly till you've got one leg thrown over his hip and one of his hands on your back. You nuzzle your face on his shoulder, trying to find a position comfortable enough to fall asleep on and Jun almost cried at the way it resembles a cat. But for now, he sticks to brushing off your hair from your forehead and pressing his lips to your skin.
"I love you, sweetheart. So much, okay?" He lets his lips rest against your forehead, your skin cold against his. He can feel you press your own kiss to his shoulder in a fleeting manner.
"I love you too. I'm gonna miss you tomorrow"
And finally, after what feels like hours of laying next to each other, Jun feels his own eyelids drooping. The exhaustion of the non-stop rehearsals and schedules finally catches up to him as time passes. Although curling into you at the end of the day always soothes his soreness away, he still allows himself to bask in the feeling of his limbs melting into the mattress. The fact that he has to get up early tomorrow, go through the labour again and work himself to the bone nags at the back of his mind. Yet the thought of you being there with open arms and a shit ton of stories about everything immediately makes it somewhat better so he closes his eyes with a small smile grazing his lips.
But just when he's finally settled into the comfort, breathing even and sleep just around the corner - you're scrambling next to him.
"Oh my fucking god, Jun, I forgot to tell you about the baby-"
Oh god. He loves you so much.
"Baby, I will throw you across the goddamn room if you don't shut the fuck up"
117 notes · View notes
blairrwaldorfs · 3 days
Note
Midnight smoking with Joe, fluffy stuff, lingering touches sharing cigarettes.
Midnight Company
Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: Joe couldn't sleep because there was something he couldn't stop thinking about, and you just came home from a failed attempt of meeting someone at the pub because you couldn't seem to be so interested in anyone at all. However, you both knew there was a reason why you both couldn't keep your minds clear.
Author's Note: This request has been sitting in my inbox, and I have been wanting to do it. So, here you go! :)
Wordcount: 2K
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“Ah, I see you’re still awake.” 
You entered the flat just a little right after midnight and found Joe sitting on the sofa. The living room lights were turned off and the only thing illuminating the room was the television. He was watching an episode of Succession, and you knew then that he couldn’t sleep. Being flatmates with Joe for the last two years had made you learn the little things he did whenever something was bothering him. Smoking at the balcony at 1am because he couldn’t seem to figure out what he needed to do for the character he was playing. Sitting on the sofa and watching one of the episodes of the show he was currently watching meant he couldn’t sleep for some reason. 
Joe let out a soft groan, throwing his head back on the sofa and rubbing his tired eyes.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He muttered. 
You kicked off your shoes and walked towards him in the living room and flopped yourself down next to him on the sofa. You reached over to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl that was sitting on his lap.
“Hey!” Joe grabbed your wrist. “Make your own.”
“Don’t be so selfish.” You teased him, pulling your wrist away from his grip before putting the handful of popcorn in your mouth.
Joe chuckled softly and shook his head as he grabbed a piece of popcorn and threw it at you. 
“See, now you’re just wasting food.” You rolled your eyes before reaching over to grab more. 
Joe threw his head back on the sofa and let out a sigh. You couldn’t help but chuckle softly as you focused your attention on the television. There was a comfortable silence between the both of you for a moment. 
“How was your night?” Joe finally asked. 
You shrugged, “It was okay.”
“I’m surprised you came home this early or that you came home at all.”
You side eyed him for a moment before shrugging again and stuffing your face with a handful of popcorn. He knew that you went out tonight with your friends, but you were also hoping that you would meet someone at the pub tonight. 
“Men are assholes.” You murmured. 
Joe couldn’t help but let out a laugh and moved himself a little closer to you and said, “Not all of them.”
You threw your head back on the sofa and turned your head to face him. His chocolate button eyes were sparkling as he gave you a playful smile. Joe was always like that. Even if you two had made an agreement that nothing would happen between the two of you, you still felt your heart beat out of your chest every time those eyes stared into yours. You both had one night of mistake—at least that was what you two had agreed on— and promised each other it wasn’t going to happen again. 
It was the beginning of the year last year, and you both got too drunk during New Year’s Eve, and you both didn’t even remember much of what happened. Again, that was what you told yourself at least. You didn’t know if Joe was lying too, or he truly didn’t remember it. You, however, remembered that night crystal clear, but you didn’t want anything weird between the two of you, so you told him that you didn’t remember anything. Since that night, you two agreed that you both just got too drunk and got carried away since both of you were single. 
That was all. 
But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t stop thinking about it. That didn’t mean that you were okay with it because you had told yourself many times to move on from it because Joe didn’t feel the same. However, you always found yourself pushing other men that you would meet at the pub because they weren’t like him. They weren’t Joe. 
God, you were pathetic. 
You needed to let go of these unrequited feelings. 
“Hmm…” You hummed softly, giving him a soft smile. “Oh, yeah? And is that one of them, you?”
Joe shrugged and just stared at you with a smile tugging on his lips. You let out a belly laugh as you stared at the ceiling. Letting your head rest on the sofa was making your head spin from the alcohol you had drank tonight, and you were sure Joe also had some considering the amount of beer bottles that were sitting on the coffee table. 
“Wanna go for a smoke?” Joe got up from the sofa, reaching his hand towards you. 
“Yeah, sure.” You took his hand in yours and followed him out the balcony. 
Lighting the cigarette, you leaned against the metal railing and stared at the starry night sky. It was quiet, and the streets were empty. It was almost so peaceful and unreal. 
“So, how come you haven’t met anyone that interested you?” Joe asked.
You didn’t know if you wanted him to press this subject because honestly at your state right now, you didn’t know if you could just stay cool and tell him some lame excuse as to why you weren’t so interested in anyone other than him. 
After letting out a puff of smoke, you shrugged again. “Like I said, men are assholes.”
Joe laughed, shaking his head. “Even I don't believe that. It has been months. You’re telling me they’re all assholes?”
You tilted your head, brows furrowing. “Why do you care so much? Is this what happens when you can’t sleep? You just get into everyone’s business?”
A playful smile tugged on your lips and Joe took a step forward towards you. His eyes studied you for a moment, and it only made your knees weak. You didn’t know what he was doing, but it definitely was making your insides turn. 
“I just care.” Joe murmured. “There’s no way a man would let you go that easily even if you refused them.”
“Well, they’re all assholes and cowards then.” You inhaled your cigarette one more time before finally putting it out. 
You chuckled softly and stared at the night sky for a moment. You didn’t have to look for you to realize that Joe was just staring at you. You didn’t want to turn and face him. You were too scared. You may have drank tonight, and your head was spinning, but you knew you were close to stepping over the line. 
“Well, what about you? Since you’re so interested in my personal life, how come you haven’t gone out there either? I’m sure all the girls are all over you since you’re so famous now.”
Joe laughed and said, “None interests me either.”
His answer sort of made your heart skip a beat. You were being way too vulnerable. At this point, you were telling yourself that you were being delusional for hoping that maybe Joe hasn’t dated anyone because maybe he felt the same. Walking back inside the flat, you grabbed yourself a bottle of beer, which probably wasn’t such a good idea and flopped yourself back on the sofa. 
“Hm… I guess I’m not the only picky one here.” You teased him, taking a sip of your beer. 
“Okay, so why are you so picky? What are you looking for in a guy?” Joe settled himself next to you on the sofa. 
You glanced up at the ceiling as you thought about his question. However, there wasn’t anything that was popping up in your mind because you already knew the answer. But you had to make some kind of excuse, right?
“I don’t know. Someone that doesn’t bore me to death.” You laughed. “What about you?”
Joe shrugged. “Not sure, honestly. I haven’t thought about that.”
You raised your brow at him. You may be lying to him, but he definitely wasn’t a good liar when it came to his excuses. 
“You’re such a liar!” You laughed, taking a piece of popcorn and throwing it at him. 
“Me? You’re the one who couldn’t answer my question too.” Joe laughed.
You grabbed more popcorn as you flicked more towards him, making his jaw drop in shock. Laughters echoed in the living room as Joe tried to defend himself, but you were at this point just making a mess in the living room.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Joe laughed, trying to use the throw pillow as a shield. 
He then grabbed you by the wrists gently as you stared into each other’s eyes. You felt your heart beating so fast that it was roaring in your ears. You stared at Joe’s chest that was also heaving as he moved closer to you. You felt the air between the two of you shift, and you knew that you were about to cross the line. 
“Joe…” You whispered as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. 
“Am I part of your asshole list?” He asked, and you immediately shook your head so fast that your mind was spinning for a moment. 
“Never.” You replied, voice so low. 
You could feel your hands tremble as your eyes stared at Joe’s lips. His fingers slowly grazed your cheek before letting his thumb traced the outline of your lips. It sparked something inside of you, and you couldn’t explain what it was. All you knew was that the alcohol was running through your veins, and Joe being this close to you was electrifying every bone of your body. 
“Good.” Joe murmured. “Because you were right. I am a liar.”
You bit your bottom lip as you held in your smile. 
“Oh?” You raised your brow at him, your eyes suddenly staring down at both of your hands. “How so?”
You played with his fingers that were on your lap. You couldn’t bear to look at him. You knew if you did, you wouldn’t know what to do. 
“Because you’re the only one that I can’t stop thinking about.” Joe admitted. 
The surprised look on your eyes immediately caught his. You had too much alcohol, but you knew you weren’t dreaming, right? Joe actually told you that. 
“W…What?” Your voice stuttered. 
Joe softly brushed his thumb on your cheek, his face inches from yours. You could feel his trembling breath as he grazed his nose against yours. Closing your eyes, you could feel the oxygen leave your lungs. Your heart couldn’t fit in your chest anymore, and you kept telling yourself that this was a dream. That you would wake up, and Joe wouldn’t be here anymore. 
Was the alcohol getting in your head right now? How many drinks did you have tonight? 
“Maybe I’m… I’m a liar too.” You whispered. 
“I know.” Joe grinned before pressing his lips against yours. 
A small gasp escaped your lips, and your body was paralyzed for a moment. You didn’t know what to do, but as soon as you felt his soft lips move with yours, you couldn’t help but slide your fingers through his hair and pull him close. It felt like a dream, but you knew it was real. Joe’s hands found your hips as he held on to them and pulled you on his lap. A soft hum escaped your lips as you hovered over Joe, tugging on his hair slightly. 
“Joe…” You whispered, pulling away from the kiss breathlessly. “Are you sure about this?”
“A hundred percent.” Joe kissed you hungrily and desperately as he gently laid you on the sofa, his lips finding your neck. 
Stars exploded at the back of your eyes as you felt Joe’s lips against your skin. Every kiss he left was making your skin on fire, and you never knew you wanted this so bad until now. Pulling away, Joe stared down at you for a moment and smiled. His fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead. 
“Are you sure you won’t regret this like last time?” You asked.
“Darling, I never regretted it the first time.” Joe grinned before getting up from the sofa.
Taking you in his arms, you let out a squeal as he carried you down the hall and into his bedroom. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you kissed him again. Kicking the door closed behind him, Joe gently laid you down on his bed. 
Staring into his chocolate button eyes, you knew you weren't going to regret it either because you never did in the first place. This time, you wouldn’t lie about how you felt too because this was everything.
All of this was everything.
The End.
*************
Taglist:
@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @browneyes8288 @bylermaxmayfield @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna @emma77645 @indulgence-be-thy-name @readergf @ladamari68 @1paire2vans @d4rk4ng3l86 @paleidiot @josephquinnsfreckles
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xavierbunbun · 1 day
Text
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ Visiting Dr. Zayne's office
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tags: xavier x mc, zayne, jealousy, protective, fluff, teasing, flirting, sweet (pun intended)
"Let me treat you at home," Xavier said, his brows furrowed in concern. You had gotten hurt on the mission and Xavier wanted to treat your wounds but you insisted that Zayne treat you. "After all, Zayne's my primary care physician. I should make him useful, shouldn't I?"
Xavier pouted as he followed you to wait for your turn for Dr. Zayne's office, "Isn't it faster if I treat you at home instead of waiting here?"
You smiled, "You're so impatient." Just then the nurse had called your name.
Without looking, Zayne said nonchalantly, "Someone remembered doctor's orders," as you walked through the door. You smiled proudly while giving him a nod.
Xavier slowly closed the door, sitting at the corner of the cold office, looking at his girlfriend and his now rival.
Xavier sulked as he watched the doctor pulling up your sleeves to examine your wounds.
His eyes widen as he saw Zayne slip in his stethoscope beneath your clothes. Your breath hitched slightly at the cold metal against your skin. He stood up with his fists clenched.
"Xav, I'm fine. I'm just not used to the coldness no matter how many times I've done this," you chuckled as you saw Xavier stood up abruptly possibly because he thought you were hurt and in pain.
Xavier sat down with a clenched jaw, his eyes never leaving Zayne's hands.
"Today's wounds are not too bad," Zayne stated as he gently cleaned your wounds in full concentration. "Well, I don't want my doctor to worry," you said before wincing in pain at the sting of the ointment.
Silently cursing under his breath, Xavier tried to stay calm despite the raging storm inside.
"All done, here you go," Zayne placed a candy on the table. You grabbed the candy and begged, "Can I have one more? Please?"
Chuckling, Zayne said, "Since you've been a good girl today, why not?" He plopped another candy into your hands and patted your head.
Xavier huffed, "Let's get back home." You nodded at Xavier and waved Zayne goodbye as you were leaving the room.
"Take care of her," Zayne directed his voice towards Xavier. "Don't need to tell me what to do, doctor. I'm not your patient," Xavier calmly asserted before closing the door a little louder than needed.
Zayne shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. His expression suddenly turned serious as he hoped the guy you chose would treat you at least as well, if not better, than himself.
Outside the room, you popped the candy into your mouth while Xavier grabbed your hand to lead you out of the hospital.
"Why are you in such a hurry, Xav?" You asked. Xavier said hastily, "We're going to miss our favourite TV show."
"Oh, we have a favorite TV show now, huh?" you teased, passing the other candy to Xavier. "For you," you said, smiling sweetly.
Xavier looked at you, then at the candy, and back at you. "What's this for?"
"What? I can't give my boyfriend a candy just 'cause?" You said teasingly. "Besides, I asked for another one for you."
"You're just making that up." Xavier adorably pouted slightly and crossed his arms.
"Awww... is my bunny jealous?" You cupped his face while mirroring his tiny pout.
Xavier looked away, feigning annoyance. "It's clear that you two are childhood friends," he remarked, noticing how comfortable you seemed with him touching you.
"Come on, Xav," you said gently, turning his head to look you in the eyes. "I promise, that's all we are and he's just my primary care physician"
Xavier, still pouting, tilted his head in feigned disbelief.
"Fine, if you don't believe me," you said, playfully mimicking him, as you opened the wrapper of the other candy.
As Xavier watched your lips close around the candy, he couldn't help but feel a spark within him. Xavier's lips suddenly pressed against yours and your eyes widen as his tongue stole the candy from your mouth in one swift motion, his lips brushing against yours in a fleeting kiss.
"Mmm... Not bad," he complimented the candy in his usual smooth voice. You blushed profusely, "You–" but he interjected.
"I can give it back if you want," Xavier said, subtly nodding sideways before leaning down.
Caught off guard by his slyness, you quickly covered his mouth, ready to protest, but Xavier's gentle touch on your bandaged hand stopped you. "Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice softening.
Your heart melted at his concerned voice. "No, it-it's alright," you replied shyly.
Xavier kissed your bandaged hand, and you let out a small yelp. He looked up, "Did I hurt you?"
You shook your head and said, "I just... was not expecting that."
"Well, you should by now," Xavier smiled innocently. He leaned in to give a quick peck on your lips. "And this too," he added, mischief shining in his eyes.
"What's with you today? Aren't we rushing home for our favourite show?" You blurted out sheepishly, desperate to change the subject.
Xavier chuckled at the new inside joke between the two of you, "Ah yes, we better head home fast." He intertwined your fingers with his and gave a gentle nudge at your uninjured hand to hurry home.
As you looked up at Xavier hurrying home, you couldn't help but chuckle. He's adorable when he's jealous.
It also made you appreciate Zayne even more, not only was he someone you grew up with, your primary care physician and someone important to you, he also brought out this endearing side of Xavier and you couldn't be more grateful.
Xavier noticed the smile on your face and asked with his brows slightly furrowed, "What are you thinking about?"
"Just thinking about how Zayne is useful in more ways than one," you quipped. Seeing that pout resurface on his lips, your smile widened.
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some-little-infamy · 15 hours
Text
(Read on AO3)
“How would you feel about getting married?”
Eddie doesn’t mean to ask the question, or at least not so bluntly, but the words tumble out of his mouth after spiraling around his head relentlessly for the last hour of his date night with Marisol. They’re cleaning up after dinner, Marisol beside him at the counter drying off the dishes he washed and put on the rack.
“Like, as a concept? Or…” Marisol questions, carefully placing the glass she was holding down on the counter before turning fully to face him.
“To me,” Eddie clarifies, choosing to double-down instead of backtrack.
“I mean… if I’m being honest, I hadn’t thought about it a whole lot. Yeah, it’s crossed my mind in a hypothetical future scenario sort of way, but… you’re not talking about that, are you?” Her eyes narrow as they watch the emotions cross his face. “You’re talking about right now.”
“Not right now,” he says. “But soon.” “Where is this coming from?” Marisol asks. It isn’t a no, but it also isn’t a yes.
“Christopher,” Eddit admits.
“Christopher wants us to get married?” Marisol asks.
“Christopher needs something constant. He needs something long-term. He can’t keep losing people… I can’t keep bringing people into his life who leave.” If he’s going to spring something like this on her then the least he can do is be honest about it. He knows how this must sound otherwise, bringing up marriage out of nowhere. They never spoke of it before, they barely planned for the next week or two, let alone months or years from now.
“Eddie…” Marisol starts slowly, and it’s the tone of a gentle let-down that leaves an immediate pit in his stomach.
“Don’t say no, just-” “I can’t say yes, though. And that’s the problem. I can’t promise to never leave, Eddie. We’re not there. Or I’m not there, at least. And if that’s something you’re looking for… maybe it isn’t fair for us to keep doing this.”
A silence falls between them.
“There’s no chance you’ll be willing to pretend this conversation never happened, is there?” Eddie tries, sensing the line they just crossed and already knowing what it means for them. It means the very thing he was hoping to avoid.
“I don’t think that’d do either of us any good, do you, Eddie?”
Eddie doesn’t know what to think any more. Every move he makes seems to backfire, no matter how good his intentions are, and he’s starting to think that maybe it’s just him.
“I’m sorry,” he says finally.
“Me too,” Marisol agrees. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“Me too,” Eddie echoes. If Marisol hears him she doesn’t give any indication, making her way to the door without turning back.
  “There are only two plates,” Christopher says as he takes his seat at the table. “Isn’t Marisol going to come over tonight?”
Eddie’s thankful that he has his back turned, scooping the potpie onto two plates at the counter. His face immediately pulls into a deep frown and he takes a deep breath for a second to steady his mind and his heart before turning to face Christopher with a small smile.
“Not tonight,” he says. “Actually… Marisol isn’t going to be coming around here any more.”
“But I liked her,” Christopher sighs.
“Me too, buddy. Me too.” Eddie forces the rueful smile to remain on his face despite every single instinct wanting to sigh right back.
“Then why did she break up with you?” Christopher asks.
“Hey,” Eddie says, feigning indignance. “What makes you think she broke up with me?”
“Because I heard you talking to Abuela when you dropped me off last night.”
Eddie winces. He remembers bits of the conversation he had with her - how he might ask Marisol to move in with him, or how he wondered if she might be ‘the one’. How much had Christopher overheard? How high did Eddie get his hopes up only to crush them the same way his own were the night before?
“I’m sorry, Chris,” Eddie says.
“It’s okay,” Christopher says.
“I know you liked having someone else around the apartment-”
“Now Buck can come over more often!” Christopher points out.
“Yeah,” Eddie agrees with a laugh. “But it isn’t the same.”
“Why not?” Christopher asks. “Buck plays games with me, and eats dinner with us, and helps me with my homework, and watches me when you and Abuela can’t. He even gave me advice about girls,” Christopher adds. “Much better advice than you or Marisol.”
Dinner is growing colder by the second, but Eddie doesn't seem to notice as the seconds of silence following Christopher's statement stretch to a minute, and then two, as his son's words settle over him.
“It isn't the same when Buck is around,” Eddie tries to explain, his words coming slow and carefully chosen. “As it is when I bring a date over.”
“You're right - Buck always leaves at night. But I wish he wouldn't. I like it better when Buck's around. You do, too. Right?”
The question is so casual, so innocent. Christopher talks between bites of dinner while Eddie’s own food continues to cool, untouched in front of him.
If he's being honest with himself, he has missed having Buck around as much as he used to. If he's being really honest, maybe he's been pushing himself to date to try and not think about just how much he likes it.
Likes Buck.
So when Christopher so easily points out that Buck is the most constant part of his life - of both their lives - Eddie wonders why he didn't realize the true weight of that sooner.
As if reading his mind, Christopher fills the silence.
“You should just date Buck. Then he'll never have to leave.”
Eddie's breath catches in his chest.
“It isn't that simple, buddy,” Eddie says.
“Why not?”
Why not, indeed. Because what if Buck doesn't feel the same? Because what if Eddie doesn't just ruin his relationship with Buck, but Christopher's, too? What if he runs the entire dynamic at work, and their friends have to pick sides or avoid him or-
“Areeee you okay, dad?” Christopher drags out the first word, waving his hand - fork and all - in front of him in Eddie’s direction.
Eddie is most certainly not okay, but he isn’t about to explain to his son that he’s having an existential crisis over the affections of a man Christopher is so certain of.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” Eddie says, picking up his own fork and taking the first bite of a dinner he’s no longer hungry for. It wouldn’t do to leave the table without eating at least a little, though, or else he’ll never hear the end of it the next time Christopher tries to boycott eating his own food.
“You’d really be okay if Buck and I… dated?” Eddie asks, tentatively easing into the conversation Christopher is already fully having whether Eddie wants to or not.
“Of course,” Chris says.
“And that wouldn’t be… weird for you?” Eddie continues.
“Nope,” Christopher answers, dropping another bite of food into his mouth. “Did I eat enough to go play video games now?”
Christopher eyes Eddie’s barely-touched plate as if daring him to say no.
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“Thanks!” Chris pushes back his chair and moves as fast as he can before Eddie can change his mind.
Eddie sits there another minute or two, head racing with everything that just happened. Every point Christopher made was not only valid, but also so painfully obvious looking back on everything. All of the nights they spent together, or days helping Chris with projects or sports over the weekends… hell, Eddie made Buck Chris’s guardian if anything ever happened to him, for fuck’s sake.
Eddie has no trouble admitting that Buck is the best thing to happen to the two of them in a long while, so why is he so hung up on taking that one step further?
His cell phone rings, jolting him from his thoughts for just a moment, but of course the name that lights up on his screen shouldn’t be a surprise.
Evan.
Eddie considers not answering it, but changes his mind at the last second, answering it just before it would’ve gone to voicemail. Thankfully, Buck can’t hear the way Eddie’s pulse picks up at the sound of his voice in the context of all the other thoughts running through Eddie’s head just then. “Hey, Buck,” Eddie says by way of a greeting. Now or never. The thought is in his head, the possibility of more, and he needs to know if it’s just him (okay, just him and Christopher) who’ve seen it and thought about it. “Just the guy I was looking for. What are you doing tonight?”
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ginabaker1666 · 19 hours
Text
You Belong To Me
From the Love Letter Series
Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal x Josephine Harris (OFC)
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The revelation that Robert Rosenthal does in fact love his best friend, Josephine Harris, comes too little too late as he’s getting ready to ship out to England. With a promise to write exchanged on the train platform, and an even bigger pinky promise that he come home to her, Rosie and Jo forge a romance detailed in their letters. Now that he’s returned home, he intends to make good on his promises.
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“I’d better see you at Minton’s…”
He remembered the good natured teasing in his own voice as he began his semi-goodbye to Crosby on the hardstand the day they left Thorpe Abbotts. Croz had chuckled and promised he’d see him there; a sense of familiarity between the two as they felt their lives back home creeping upon them.
Now… well, now he was standing in front of the bar at Minton’s, fingers tapping idly on the short rocks glass in his hand, eyes sweeping over the sea of people. Men in their dress uniforms, pressed sharp; women wearing their favorite red lipstick and best stockings, all crowded together on the dance floor while the band played on.
New York was still swept up in the victory of the war; sweethearts who couldn’t get enough of dancing with their soldier who had just come home. Men looking to meet someone, to quell the ache of the last few years with a female companion.
Bringing the glass to his lips, Rosie let the familiar taste of the scotch soothe him, as he continued his people watching. Thinking back on it, sure, he had told Crosby that in no uncertain terms he’d be at Minton’s upon getting home; but it was a sentence almost identical to the one he had spoken moments before he shipped out, that resonated with him like the aftershocks of ringing a bell.
He couldn’t help but conjure up his own vision of red lips, smooth skin and a bright smile; the piece of home he had taken with him to East Anglia, and carried close to his heart (in the breast pocket of his uniform) on every single mission.
Josephine.
They had been childhood friends who grew up on the same block. Their moms were almost always having coffee together or, if the weather was nice, out on the stoop of their homes while Robert and Josephine played on the sidewalk. As kids, he had called her Jo, and she affectionately called him Robbie; and his Ma, well, his Ma would just shake her head with a fond smile and chuckle, muttering about how one day he would see it.
He’s twenty-eight now and he finally sees it, though, he supposes he saw it long before he shipped out. He had wanted to run down the block, knock on her door until her mother answered with a scowl on her face at all the noise, but something had stopped him. His Ma had said he thinks too much, but the laundry list of what-if’s had violently plagued him before deciding no, on his behalf. How could he drop that revelation on her, and then leave for god knows how long? His Ma had taught him better than that.
What he had asked her instead, was if he could write to her; but when the words tumbled forth past his lips, one or two getting tangled in his wiry mustache, she was already asking him the same thing.
“Would it be alright if I wrote to you?”
The pair both fell silent, before a soft laugh escaped Jo’s lips, and he knew he would be counting the days until he was able to hear it again.
“Should have known you’d beat me to the punch.” He grinned, head shaking in jest.
Jo just smiled and threw her arms around him, holding him close for as many minutes as she could before the conductor at Grand Central Station called for the ‘All Aboard.”
“Robbie…” She had looked up at him, big brown eyes filled with unshed tears for him; for this war, and if he had to guess, herself.
“I’ll meet you at Minton’s as soon as I’m back.” He had assured her, thumb swiping under her cheek to catch the first tear.
“You promise?”
He hated to make promises when the future was so uncertain for them, but, this was Josephine and he would be damned if he didn’t attempt to make her smile one more time before he got on that train.
“I’ll do you one better,” He grinned, holding out his right hand. “I pinky promise you, I’ll be at Minton’s, waiting for you.”
It was as close as he could get to saying ‘I Love You’.
Jo grinned, hooking the pinky of her own hand with his, just as the conductor yelled the last call for passengers.
“I’ll be waiting for your letters…” he had whispered, pulling her close once more. “With bated breath, Jo.”
“Not nearly as much as I’ll be waiting for yours,” She sniffled softly before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Come home to me in one piece, Robbie, please.”
That had been then. Before Thorpe Abbotts, Rosie's Riveters, twenty-five successful missions and reupping for a second tour. Before he had bailed out over Russia, before the horrors of Nuremberg and a hell of a journey back to base. He often thought back to that night after he had returned to East Anglia, sitting in the Officers Club with Croz, wondering if they were becoming the monsters they had been sent to fight.
No, they hadn’t become the monsters, but he had felt that the longer he was away from home the more he lost bits and pieces of himself from the ‘before’ and had to learn to live with the Robert Rosenthal of ‘after’. Would she like the ‘after’. The thought entered his mind so quickly, he almost missed it. Hell, he was still processing it all, and as he turned back to face the bar for a refill, his gaze caught on the entrance of the club.
There she was, his Jo, purse clutched in her hands as she looked around the crowded room for a familiar face. Dark brown eyes scanning over the bodies packed in like sardines, brown curls immaculately pinned up, bright red lips pursed in concentration. Abandoning his empty glass, he smoothed a hand over his curls, straightened his jacket, and pushed off the bar. Weaving his way through the throngs of people, he kept his gaze locked on her, as his feet carried him across the floor.
Rosie felt everything around him fade into a dull buzz as soon as her eyes found his. He pushed his way to the edge of the crowd, finally coming to a stop in front of her. Now, face to face, Rosie and Jo could do nothing more than stare at each other. Neither wanted to be the first to speak, to break the bubble around them, but both felt compelled to do something.
“I promised, didn’t I?” Rosie broke the silence with a smile.
He just barely made out his name falling from her lips before she was in his arms. He caught her with ease and held on tight. It was proof that she was real, that he was home, and there was nothing to fear as they stood at the entrance to Minton’s. Nobody spared them a glance as they sidestepped the couple, a sort of mutual understanding as so many others reunited under the same roof.
“Let me look at you,” Jo had pulled away first, but only letting go of him enough to let her hands slide down his arms to take his. “Home in one piece I see.
“As requested,” Rosie grinned, giving her delicate hands a squeeze. “And as promised.”
“You know better than anyone, that to break a pinky promise is as good as treason, Robert Rosenthal.”
“And you should know that I don’t make pinky promises with just anyone, Josephine Harris.”
“Well, now that we’ve settled that…” she trailed off, a teasing grin on her lips as Rosie began to guide her towards where he had spotted an empty table near the back. Close enough to get to the dance floor when they were ready, but far enough back that they could talk and still hear each other over the din of music and other patrons.
“Are dirty martinis still your poison, or did that change while I was gone?”
“Nothing’s changed,” she looked up at him as if to reassure him that it wasn’t just her cocktail order that remained the same, but the sentiments they exchanged in their numerous letters while he had been over in England. “Everything is exactly as you left it.”
In lieu of a response, he pulled out the chair for her, holding it steady as she slid gracefully into the offered seat, before moving to the chair across from hers.
Instead of sitting, Rosie moved the empty chair next to the one Jo was currently occupying, so that he could sit closer to her, as opposed to having the table between them. Once he was happy with the placement, he lowered himself into the vacant space, body turned at an angle so he could face his companion. He just barely caught a waiter moving in their direction, and flagged the gentleman down, promptly ordering Jo her aforementioned martini, and another scotch for himself. Once the waiter was gone, Rosie’s warm, much larger hand, covered Jo’s, his palms still rough from countless hours behind the yolk, causing him to internally wince as he felt her soft skin against his. The thought was quickly snuffed out as her hand turned upward to his, their palms meeting before her fingers intertwined with his on the table top.
“I missed you,” Jo spoke first this time, breaking the silence. “So much, Robbie.”
“I missed you too. Like you wouldn’t believe,” He admitted. “Your letters, they were the only thing I looked forward to. Just don’t tell my Ma that.”
“Your secret’s safe with me, Major.” She teased.
Rosie made a show of wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, mustache twitching upward as he smiled at Jo, stopping only when the waiter returned with their drinks. He watched as she lifted the martini glass to her lips; delicate fingers holding the top of the glass, nails painted a bright red, her eyes watching him over the rim as she took her first sip. He felt parched, regardless of the drink in front of him, as he watched her move with such precision and grace. Something he had missed sorely over the last few years, and fully intended on appreciating now that he could.
“Did they make it right?” He asked.
“Perfect,” She nodded, placing the glass back on the table. “Just as good as I remember.”
“It can’t have been that long since the last time you were here.” Rosie spoke, lifting his own glass to his lips.
“I haven’t been since… well, since the night before you left.”
“Minton’s is your favorite place! You mean to tell me you haven’t been here since–”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Jo finished for him.
Her confession hung in the air, Rosie both shocked but warmed at the thought that she hadn’t been here without him and that the last time she was here had been with him. That she reserved this place as something that belonged to just them. He felt there was no better time than to drop his own truth bomb; he only hoped it didn’t send her running back out the door.
“Since we’re confessing things,” He started carefully. “I uh.. I want you to know that I carried your picture with me while I was gone.”
“…you did?”
“Every day,” he nodded. “I took you on every mission with me.”
He wasn’t sure what to expect after confessing all of that to her, but the glistening of her own eyes as she looked back at him wasn’t it.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what… I didn’t mean to make you cry, Jo.”
“Shush,” She spoke quickly, one finger over his lips. “You wonderful, handsome man.”
His eyebrow quirked in response. It was all he could do given that her finger was still over his lips, and she had asked him to stop talking. But he wanted to do more than just keep talking. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her silly, and then take her on the dance floor and spin her around until they were both giddy and dizzy and drunk on each other. And then he wanted to kiss her some more. All too gently, he took her hand in his, moved it away from his lips, and carefully tugged her towards him until she was close enough for him to wrap her up in his arms.
“I should have kissed you that day at the train station,” Rosie started. “I was convinced you wouldn’t want me the same way I wanted you, and there were so many what-if’s, and then I was leaving. Truth be told, I should have kissed you long before the train station.”
“I’ve always been yours, Robbie,” She smiled. “We just took the scenic route.”
And then there was silence, save for the gasp that Jo let loose as Rosie’s lips finally descended on hers. Firm, yet gentle, and with the slight tickle of his mustache, he poured every ounce of himself into making sure she knew just how much he loved her without words. Because the words had been written in many letters over the course of two years; phrased with care and longing for each other, a desire that grew much like stoking the flames of a campfire until it reached the point of blazing uncontrollably and there was no turning back. For Rosie and Jo, the fire burned and neither cared to put it out, or attempt to quell the flames.
When they finally pulled apart, the need for oxygen too great to withstand, neither could stop their smiles from growing. There it was. Their love for the ages, that they had planted, grown and nurtured during the days of war, was finally seen blooming under the dim lighting of Minton’s Jazz Club.
“I love you, Jo.”
“I love you too,” She grinned. “More than I could have ever said in any letter.”
“Yet somehow, I always knew. I wonder how that happened.” He teased her, leaning forward to press his lips to hers again.
The smart remark she had been ready to dish his way died on her lips as the band began playing a song that had Rosie tapping out a beat, eyes widening with mirth as he grabbed Jo’s hand and stood, pulling her up with him.
“Come on, pretty girl, let's dance!”
He led them through the crowd of people until they reached the dance floor, and then he found them a spot where he could hold her close and spin her in his arms until his heart's content. The band played on, an Artie Shaw tune that had Rosie laughing to himself as he thought back to the sound of his crew imitating him as they sat around the poker table at the Flack House, way back when. It was a story he had only briefly shared in a letter that he had written from Coombe House during a night he couldn’t find sleep. But now, the sounds of Artie Shaw brought him a smile, as the woman in his arms smiled back at him.
The band moved into a slower song, and Rosie pulled Jo closer, pressing their bodies together as they moved together, cheek to cheek.
“You really took my picture with you on every flight?” She spoke quietly, her voice for his ears only.
“I did,” Rosie nodded. “I kept it in my jacket, close to me. Except for that one time.”
“You know… when your mother got that telegram from the War Department that you had gone down, she ran down the block to our house so I could read it.”
“Oh honey…”
“I refused to believe you had left me without a proper chance at us. Selfish as it may seem, I couldn’t picture my life without you.”
“You won’t have to; not now, or ever. I promise, I’m not going anywhere ever again where you can’t go too.”
“Pinky promise?”
“More than that,” He grinned, before pressing his lips to her own. When they pulled apart they couldn’t help the smiles that took hold. “We can seal this one with a kiss.”
A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Rosie & Jo, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, let me know!
Tag List:
@winniemaywebber @rosiesriveter @bobparkhurst @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @rowdy-redhead
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ursuburbanmother · 1 day
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I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter One
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Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!Reader
Summary: You and Angus have been best friends since you were little children. Now in high school the only thing that separates you is a lake between both your schools. Due to what was describe by your headmaster as "Unfortunate circumstances due to chance, and poor planning on our part," you are forced to stay at the Barton Academy for the holidays with the company of your best friend or maybe more.
a/n: hi guys! I’m new so try to be kind to me lol. Anyways this is probably not very good. It’s slow paced cause I wanted to establish their friendship. Not sure where this is going so if you have any suggestions let me know! Also not grammar or beta read so…
Word Count: 3k
Enjoy!
December 17th, 1970
You hadn’t spoken to your parents in months. You figured they would call or write a letter or something. In October they wished you a speedy little, “Happy Halloween,” before hanging up. You could hear the loud party in the background. Always the socialites, they were probably eager to get back to enjoying themselves by downing flutes of champagne and appetizers. Now it was December, and you had not received a peep from either. When the holiday plans form was passed out to the girls of your boarding school at the end of November, you ignored it. Then the deadline came, and you hastily checked off the box that said, ‘Plan to stay on campus.’
Your parents hadn’t called to dispute it and now you’re stuck at mass, sitting in a pew, watching other happy families and their daughters anxiously waiting to leave. You wondered if there was still a way for you to get away. Your friend, really only friend, Angus Tully was headed to St. Kitts and with him gone, your only true escape was gone. If he knew you were stuck holding over, he would beg his parents to take you, but you knew it would be too much of an imposition, so you kept that fact secret.
Life had always seemed to throw you two together. Even at the age where cooties were still a very legitimate fear. Born in the same snobby Boston neighborhood you two were often the only kids at your parent's parties. You remember that humid night on the Fourth of July when you had met the lanky boy with a mess of brown curls. The fireworks had begun to go off and everyone wore white dresses and suits. You had become restless and started to wander the halls of your home aimlessly. Streamers of blue, red and white hung from the ceiling and servers walked around passing out sparklers.
You found him on the patio. He tugged, annoyed, at his tie. Your own dress was stifling in the heat and for a pair of seven-year-olds, you found the best solution to your ailment was to jump into the shallow end of the pool.
“I’ll do it, if you do it,” you had promised under the hum of cicadas and floating fireflies.
“Deal,” you shook hands.
The water was cold and clear. You swam around for a while, splashing each other and playing Marco Polo. It was at the same time your mother had decided to move the party outside so people could watch the lights in the sky a bit better. You two were pulled out of the pool and shook like wet dogs.
Livid, your parents fed you the line all parents wait to say to their troublesome child, “If your friend jumped off a bridge, would you?” You decided at that moment that yes, you would.
After that you two were inseparable. Because when you're a kid all you need is one single act of solidarity to devote your life to someone. Throughout elementary school you were practically fused to one another. You’d exclude people from your game of hopscotch and eat lunch in secret nooks. When you two were headed to high school your parents enrolled you in a posh all-girl boarding school and Angus to some prep school in another rural part of Massachusetts. Phone calls rang long. You remember the groans you would get from other girls who would give up trying to use the payphone. At some point you had run out of quarters and so to save money you had begun writing letters. Angus being Angus, he’d write as if he was off at war and the letters were the last things keeping him sane.
You knew he never enjoyed school but after he was kicked out from his first preparatory, then his second and third, you had turned into a scolding mother.
“What are you going to do now?”
“Die if I’m lucky, shave my head at Fork Union if not.”
“I want to go to college with you Angus. If not college then I at least want to be able to be an adult with you. One with a diploma so we can get easy jobs as regional salespeople or something,” you mumbled, twirling the phone cord around with your finger.
“You really thought this out,” he laughed.
“I’m serious, Augie.” You heard him sigh across the line.
“Okay. I’ll do better. No screw ups next time.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
When he was sent to Barton, your sister school, you couldn’t have been more excited. It was a short walk away; you could see it from across the lake that separated you. Your mom had been the one to call you about the change. She said his mother thought having him near you would make him less fussy. Something about you being the good influence he needs. You doubted that yet bit your tongue, knowing it would create more trouble than anything. Now it had been over a year and Angus had kept his word. When the opportunity arose for you to meet up, you would take it. Football games or talent shows, you were there. To anyone outside, it would have appeared as though you two just held a lot of school spirit. Like that beach boy's song.
“Be true to your school now,” you’d sing into Angus' ear.
He’d roll his eyes but always join in, “just like you would to your girl or guy.”
“Rah-rah-rah-rah sis boom bah! I love that part!” You’d giggle.
He’d try to hide his smile, but you could always tell. He’d put his arm around your shoulder and say, “Yeah okay.”
Once you were dismissed from mass you sighed and trudged all the way back through the snow to your dorm building. Having it so empty was eerie, you could hear your own footsteps echoing down the halls. You made your way into the common room to wait for Ms. Orchard.
She was meant to be your babysitter for the next few weeks. She was your Renaissance literature teacher. Ms. Orchard was nice but on the older side, which meant she was traditional. You often thought she would be better suited to be a Home Economics teacher if she was so invested in being ladylike.
You sat in the corner of the couch and opened a book. Minutes passed and it seemed obvious no one was coming to join you. Not even Mrs. Orchard. She probably broke a hip trying to make her way back in the snow.
“Ms. Orchard has broken a hip while walking in the snow,” the door suddenly bursts open hitting the side of the wall so hard it shakes the room.
“What?” Your mouth drops at the news. Shit, had you jinxed it?
Your Dean, Mr. Jameson says as he walks in, covered in snowflakes. “Yup. She slipped on ice on the way here. By the parking lot. Didn’t you hear the ambulance?”
“Uh… no?”
“Hmm,” he hummed, looking around the room, “where are the other girls?”
“I think it’s just me sir.”
“Ah, right. Well that makes this easier. You’ll be spending your Christmas break at Barton. Now, it’s awfully last minute so we hope they take you. Why don’t you go get your bag ready and-,”
“Hold on. Barton the boys' school?” You could almost gag at the idea. No offense to Angus, but you could remember the endless horror stories he would tell you of life in a boys' school. The air always smelled weird, and cleanliness was the least of their worries. “Isn’t there somebody to replace Ms. Orchard?”
“This place cleared out thirty minutes ago, Ms. L/n,” he said, “And I have a family to get back to.”
“But-, I just-, isn't there a rule against this or something?”
“I have no doubt that the teacher supervisor there will ensure you have a safe, jolly time Ms. L/n.”
“But I-,”
“That’s enough. I understand this is an unprecedented situation, but the only alternative would be to leave you here alone and that just is not going to happen. Please Ms. L/n, make this easy for everyone.” With his hand he motioned towards the door.
“Fine,” you gritted out. You got off the couch and went to your room. You half-heartedly crammed anything you could into your suitcase. Some shirts, sweaters and pants. You ran out of space and resorted to carrying your books in your hands along with your potted plant. You felt bad leaving your lavender to just sit and wilt, so you took her with you.
“I made a few calls. Everything should work out. You all settled then?” Mr. Jameson said once you had made your way back to the common room. Nodding with a tight-lipped smile you headed out. You two could have walked but apparently, he was in a hurry to catch a six o’clock flight and you ended up taking his car.
It was a short drive and with reluctance you made your way inside the school. “Come on. Put a pep in your step,” Mr. Jameson clapped.
He navigated you around. You had only been in the main building, never the dorms. Blindly you let him guide you until you found yourself in a room with four other boys and Angus. Angus who was supposed to be half-way to the airport by now. His sulky face shifted into one of shock. You took a step towards him only to be stopped by your dean's arm in front of you. The other guys were looking at you with mouths wide open. It was like their eyes were about to fall out of their sockets. You grumbled, not knowing what else to do.
Mr. Jameson took the lead, “Mr. Hunham? Correct?” He outstretched his hand for him to shake. Hesitantly the older man took it.
“What’s the meaning of this,” he pointed between Mr. Jameson and you.
“Unfortunate circumstances due to chance, and poor planning on our part. This is Ms. Y/n L/n. Come introduce yourself.”
“I’m Y/n L/n,” you shrugged, looking at Angus for guidance. In unison they all say hello.
“Can we speak in private,” Mr. Jameson asked.
“Alright,” Mr. Hunham says, “no funny business,” he gives a pointed look to the boys.
The two teachers leave, and you quickly move to Angus to encapsulate him in a quick hug.
“What the hell? What are you doing here?”
“Funny, I was going to ask the same thing.”
“What the hell Angus. You have a girlfriend?” A blonde boy with a red tie says as his eyes scan your figure. You shift uncomfortably at the action. “A smoking one too…”
“Shut it Kountze, you’re catching flies,” Angus scoffs.
The door creaks open as both gentlemen return from their brief chat. You and Angus move away from each other like you were caught doing something wrong.
“It seems we will be extending you an invitation to Ms. L/n,” Mr. Hunham says, “you okayed this with Woodrup?” He verifies again with Dean Jameson.
“Yes, it’s all settled. We at Janie Patrick’s School thank you. We owe you one,” he turns to you, “goodbye L/n, you’re in good hands.”
He was halfway through the door when Mr. Hunham cleared his throat obnoxiously loudly. “As I was saying, we will be following a standard school schedule.”
“Uh, sir? We’re on vacation.” Kountze points out.
“Which means we’ll be taking our meals together. And you will observe regular hours of study.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“The Peloponnesian War awaits, Mr. Kountze, you and Mr. Tully. The rest of you can get a jump on next semester. It’ll pay off. You’ll see.”
“We’re already holding over, and now we’re being punished for it?” Angus says bitterly and on fast reflex you rub his arm comfortingly. Mr. Hunham is just as fast to notice.
“Oh no, no, no. Do not tell me this is your girlfriend Mr. Tully.”
“Wh-what. No! We’re just friends.”
“Yeah, we were born on the same street!”
“I do not intend to break apart your romantic escapades all break long.”
“We. Are. Just. Friends,” Angus reaffirms, venom on his tongue. You could see the blush rising on his pale cheeks. You could feel your own as well.
“Mhm,” Hunham hums skeptically, his gaze lingers on you two for a second before glancing back at his clipboard, “Alright… You will be afforded limited windows for recreation and supervised physical activity.”
“The gyms are not even open yet.”
“Yeah, they only lacquered half the floor,” another boy points out, this one has long blonde hair that reaches his shoulders.
“Fresh air will do you good,” says Hunham.
“It’s like 15 degrees outside.”
“And the Romans bathed naked in the freezing Tiber. Adversity builds character Mr. Tully. Uh, speaking of which, the school will be cutting heat to dormitories and faculty housing and so we’ll all be bunking in the infirmary. With separate accommodations for Ms. L/n of course.”
They all groan. You're just upset. You had thought you would spend the next two weeks avoiding Ms. Orchard and lying to Angus about your whereabouts while he admiringly described the beaches of St. Kitts to you over postcards. Although you supposed it wasn’t all bad. You could spend more time with him, under the watchful glare of Angus' teacher of course.
Together you all get ready to haul your things to the infirmary before being stopped by Mr. Hunhams tsking in disapproval.
“You philistines are just going to let the lady carry her own things? I’m sorry to see Barton has failed in ingraining a sense of chivalry into you.”
“Oh no, it’s alright really, I can do it,” you protest but they all scramble to help you anyway. “Can I carry your suitcase Y/n?” Kountze says, in an odd way, that was meant to be suggestive.
“Okay Kountze, piss off,” Tully pushes him away, leaning down slightly to get your things, “let’s go.” He walks quickly out the door, leaving the rest of you to follow him.
As you are slapped in the face by the harsh winds you curse the idiots at your school who refused to let you wear pants. You were forced to put on double the tights and your warmest coat. It did not do anything to aid you and your shivering made that clear. It was like they wanted to torture you when the boys stopped halfway down the quad and in front of a truck. You're still holding your books so it's not like you can rub your arms to help you out a little. They were complaining about Hunham, who they so endearingly nicknamed “Walleye.”
“Hey, guys, hold up for a second,” Angus tells the young kids in front of you. He sets his, and your things, down on the grimy paved road. He searched through his pockets and lit a cigarette. “Want one?” he asks you and Kountze.
“No. I got something else. Give me that,” he grabs the lighter from him and sparks a joint.
“Hey, don’t smoke that out here. I don't want to get busted by Walleye.”
“Don’t be such a pussy,”
“I’m not a pussy, I just don't want to end up at Fork Union paying for your mistake.”
He ignores Angus and instead turns his attention to you instead, “You're not like a total priss right?”
You shake your head. At least you didn’t think you were.
“Alright,” he smirks and stretches his hand out for you to shake, “Teddy Kountze.”
“Nice to meet you,” you say. The other unnamed boy is the next to greet you.
“Jason Smith.”
“We know who you are. You want to hit this,” Teddy offers the jock the joint.
Jason scans his surroundings before agreeing, “Uh, yeah.”
“You got a great arm man,” he compliments,
“Yeah, well, it’s just football.”
“How’d you get stuck holding over?”
“I’m supposed to be skiing with my folks up at Haystack, but my dad put his foot down. Said I can’t come home unless I cut my hair.”
“So why don’t you cut your hair?
“Civil disobedience, man.”
“I dig that,” you comment. “You know that when they tried to cut that tree between our schools, I organized the tree-sitting.”
“Holy shit that was you? Figured it was some hippies from Boston,” Teddy snickers.
“Nope. I sat in that tree for hours, drinking from water bottles that Angus tossed up to us.”
“Did it work?” Jason wonders.
“For now, yeah.”
“Awesome…. But no, he’s cool. It’s just a battle of wills. Still, I was hoping he’d cave first, because the powder up at Haystack is so sweet right now.”
“What about you, Mr. Moto? Why are you here?” Teddy asks one of the first-year boys.
He appears embarrassed to be singled out, “No, my name is Ye-Joon. My family is in Korea, and they think it’s too far for me to travel alone.”
“I figured it was because your rickshaw was broken,” Teddy laughs to himself. Angus didn’t exaggerate when she said this guy was a jerk.
“What a rickshaw?”
Angus intervenes, “You’re an asshole, Kountze. Your mind’s a cesspool and a shallow one at that.”
“Who’s the asshole Tully? You’re the one who blew up history.” Jason notices the tension and brings the group's conversation back to the freshman.
“What’s your story man?”
“Alex Ollerman. I’m here because my parents are on a mission in Paraguay. We’re LDS. “Mormons, right?” Alex nods yes.
“Don’t you guys wear some kind of magic underwear?” It's like Teddy loves to hear himself talk, you think.
“Common misconception. Actually, it’s called a temple garment, and we’re only supposed to wear it when-.”
“Hey, what's with the townies?” Kountze spots two men emerging from the chapel with a large, heavy green tree in their grasp.
“Hey, what are you doing with our Christmas tree?” Angus shouts, tapping you on the shoulder in a way that says can you believe this?
“The school sold it back to us. Scotch pine, still fresh.” The stranger shouts back.
“Yeah, we’re going to put it back on the lot. We do it every year.”
“This is the most bullshit ever.”
The boys put out their separate smokes much to the relief of Alex and Ye-Joon. You fall behind the rest of them and Angus naturally finds his place next to yours. You stroll in silence until he decides to break the ice.
“You going to tell me what happened?”
“You tell me first. You were so excited to go on vacation.”
“One word. Stanley.”
You grimace, knowing what that means. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
“It’s whatever. They want to spend their honeymoon forgetting my existence then they can do just that. I’m almost an adult anyway. Then I can go anywhere I want anytime.”
“Is that what Judy said?”
“That was the bullshit excuse, yes.”
“Hey, you got me though. We’ll make this fun.”
“We have no tree, Hunham will be breathing down our back, and Kountze hasn’t stopped ogling at you since you arrived. Does that sound like the perfect Christmas to you?”
You laugh softly, “Ignore Hunham and Kountze. As for the tree, we could always Charlie Brown it. What do you think the lavender is here for?” You shake your plant a little. The purple bush sways in the wind.
He smiles, “Yeah… It’s not a bad little tree,” he begins to quote.
“Maybe it just needs a little love,” you say together and break into a fit of giggles.
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tnt-kokoo · 2 days
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Siblings talk
Part two of the chigiri series
paring: Chigiri Hyoma × fem!reader
summary: A girl with a fear of boys is new to the school and her class. As Chigiri sees her he falls head over heels inlove with her but doesn't know just yet the reason for her fear, as well as y/n not knowing the 'pretty girl' she was talking to was actually a boy.
warnings:
masterlist part one ; part three
After school Chigiri could only watch as you keep talking to the girls and completely ignore the guys and even go as far as to walk away (respectfully). He then couldn't help but think about the fact that he lied to you about being a girl. If some people from class tell you the truth, he would not ONLY be called a liar but also a pervert for making you think he was a girl.
Who knows what people will think about, hearing he lied about that.
But what was the red head gonna do now?? It seemed like no one even muttered a word to you about his secret yet but he couldn't keep this up for so long now, could he?
He needed someone's advice and he knew just the right person.
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Opening the front door quickly, he took his shoes of and ran upstairs towards the door he knew all to well (from the outside, he wasn't allowed to enter the room).
Bargening into the room his eyes searched for the only person who was able to help him,
his sister.
"I NEED YOUR HEL-"
"Get out." She said before Hyoma could even finish his sentence.
Without thinking he closed the door right after and went back onside like it was in his muscle memory.
He realized what he did and opened the door again and this time without the intention to get out again without the assistance of his sister.
"Didn't I just tell you, to get put? Don't make me repeat it again, Hyo." She said in a sassy way. That's what makes the two so similar.
"Please.. I've made a big mistake and I NEED your help." Hyoma said in a pleading voice. His sister looked at him for a second thinking whether to help or not. But she decided for the first option.
"What happened." She asked after noticing the younger seemed to still be fidgeting and anxious.
____________________________________________
"So let me get it straight. You fell inlove, she thought you were a girl and then instead of correcting her you agreed?"
"Yea"
....
The older sister started laughing while the red haired boy couldn't help but be embarrassed.
"STOP LAUGHING"
"I am sorry, but it's just so funny seeing you not correct someone on missgendering you, little brother..." She started and her laughing got quieter until she continued on a more serious tone, "But it's kind of sad if I am honest. I mean she must has a reason why she is avoiding guys and while you're making her think you're a girl, she could get seriously hurt or afraid of you when she realizes you aren't a girl."
With a sigh Hyoma knew he had to tell you the truth even if you would avoid him.
With that new idea he went in his own room to do his homework since it's late now. Walking through the door of his own room now, he could see the darkness from outside the window and with that he sat down on his chair and started his school stuff.
Halfway through he got a message from an unknown number.
'Who-'
Unknown
'Hey Chi, it's me Y/n'
'I got your number from a classmate'
'Wanted to ask if you wanna show me around after school tomorrow??'
Seeing you use a nickname on him made his heart swell and texting back he didn't even seem to remember what he promised himself. He quickly changed your name and texted you back.
Chigiri
'Sure y/n'
'Any special places you wanna go to?'
Y/n
'hmmm'
'how about the beach side of Kagoshima?'
Chigiri
'sounds like a plan then, n/n' *deleted*
'sounds like a plan then'
The boy smiled at his phone as the girl he liked texted him a good night.
That night he went to sleep with a smile on his face.
____________________________________________
AN: Okokkk part two is doneee and I also searched everywhere where ethe blue lock boys are from and I saw a reddit post saying he was from Kagoshima 😭😭 I hope it's true
also I didn't check for mistakes, sorry
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canirove · 18 hours
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In The Name of Love | Chapter 34
Previous chapter | Epilogue (coming out on Monday)
Masterlist
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I've been back in Barcelona for a couple of months now, and so far everything has been great.  
I took my mum to Rome, where we stayed for a week doing all the touristy things you could think of, eating our weight in gelato, and having long conversations that have made us understand each other a lot better, finally managing to have a good relationship. 
I also went with Marina and David to Mykonos, a place they both had always dreamt to visit. Though it wasn't as dreamy as they thought. After a couple of days struggling to find somewhere that wasn't too crowded or full of tourists, we decided to just stay at our villa. During the day we would lay in the sun, take advantage of our private swimming pool or just sleep and relax, and at night we would sit outside drinking some wine, talking and laughing about anything and everything. We realized that we didn't need to go to a fancy place to have fun. Being together was all that mattered.
And now I am back home, getting everything ready for the new school year, feeling as excited about it as I did the first time I got to properly teach.
"Do you remember how we spent the day before looking through both your wardrobe and mine trying to find the perfect outfit for your first day as a teacher?" Silvia asks me while we are chilling on the sofa.
"I remember that the house was a mess afterwards."
"Yeah, that too" she laughs. "But you looked really cute."
"I did, didn't I? I got many compliments from the other teachers. One of them even tried to flirt with me."
"I mean, it was a really nice dress. Do you still have it?"
"I gave it away when we did that big spring cleaning a couple of years ago."
"Oh, shame… But have you kept any photo where you are wearing it?"
"Of course I have. You made me take a bunch before I left for work so I could remember that day" I laugh.
"I was a proud mum" Silvia smiles. "Can you search for them?"
"Just promise not to make fun of me if I look ridiculous" I say, unlocking my phone. "It was a different time."
"You didn't look ridi… Val. Val, hey, what is it?" 
"Nothing."
"Then why are you crying? That bad are those photos?"
"No, it's just… I hadn't realized… today."
"Uh?" Silvia says with a confused look.
"Today is my anniversary with Pedri… or was. And the memories thing on my phone showed me a photo of us together and…"
"Aww, Val. I'm sorry."
"It's ok" I say, wiping away my tears. "It's a good memory."
"Can I see it? The photo with him, I mean."
"Sure" I reply, giving her my phone. "It's at his secret beach as he called it, the one where he took me when we started seeing each other. The 14 of each month we would try to go there to watch the sunset and eat something, and we would spend our time talking about the most random things until it got dark and too cold. It was just us, and it was… perfect."
"It does sound perfect" she smiles.
"Today it is so hot that we would have probably gone for a swim and then buy some ice cream."
"What if… what if we do that?"
"What?" I ask.
"Go for a swim and buy some ice cream. I know I am not him, but…"
"I would love that" I smile. 
"Great" Silvia says, getting up from the sofa and offering me her hand. "Shall we?"
"Let's go."
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"You don't have to do it, Val."
"I know. But I want to" I say, opening the car's door. After going for a swim and getting some ice cream with Silvia, I asked her to drive me to the beach Pedri and I used to go to. For some reason, I felt like I needed to be there today. 
"Do you want me to go with you?" she asks.
"Please" I nod.
We walk in silence, Silvia holding my hand and giving it little squeezes as we get closer to the lookout from where you can see the whole beach. 
"This is beautiful, Val" she says.
"It is" I whisper, taking in the view. There are a couple of fluffy clouds here and there, the sea is calm, and the light is making the sand look almost golden. The sand. There is someone walking on the sand, someone… It can't be. 
"Ouch, Val! That hurts!" Silvia says when I squeeze her hand as if my life depended on it.
"It's him."
"What?"
"Down there" I say, my eyes fixed on the beach. "That's him. He's here."
"Who… Oh, shit. That is him."
"What do I do, Silvia?" 
"Go down there, of course!"
"What? No! I can't… I can't do that."
"You can and you will, Val. Go tell Pedri that you still love him and that you want to spend the rest of your life with him." 
"But what if he doesn't want to see me? What if he has moved on?" I say, looking at him while he kicks the sand.
"Val, do you really think that if he had moved on, he would be here on a day like today?"
"I…"
"Besides, what has Ferran been telling you all these months?"
"That he still loves me."
"Exactly. So go down there and get back with your teenage boy."
"He isn't a teenager anymore" I chuckle.
"Even better."
"But Silvia…"
"You were waiting for destiny to give you a sign, right? Well, this is it. Now go" she says, pushing me towards the stairs.
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"Ok, Valeria. You can do this" I say to myself. He is standing with his back to me and looking at the sea, completely oblivious of the fact that I am behind him, that I also am here. "Pedri?" I call, my voice sounding all squeaky. But he doesn't say anything, just shakes his head. "Pedri" I say again, this time a bit louder.
"Yeah, I've completely lost it" he laughs, running a hand through his hair. 
"Lost what?" I ask.
"My sanity, Val. I can hear your voice as if you were here with me."
"I am here, Pedri."
"You are in my head."
"I'm here" I repeat, putting my hand on his shoulder, my touch making him flinch.
"That's an illusion. I've completely lost my mind, you aren't real."
"I am real and I am here" I say, now moving to be in front of him. "Open your eyes, Pedri."
"No."
"What?"
"If I open my eyes you will leave."
"I'm not going anywhere, Pedri" I say, caressing his cheek and wiping away a tear.  
"I can't lose you again, Val" he says, resting his hand on top of mine. 
"You won't, because I am not going anywhere. Please open your eyes."
"I can't."
"Pedri, please" I beg him. Now I am the one who is crying. 
"Val…"
"I'm not going anywhere, Pedri. I promise. I want to be with you, to spend the rest of my life with you, to fight for this, for us. And I don't care if I have to do it against a horde of crazy teenagers, bullies like Isabel, or judgy parents who have nothing better to do than gossip. I'm done with letting people's opinions rule my life." 
"Val…" he repeats, his voice now almost a whisper.
"You know, I've never believed in love at first sight" I continue. "I always thought it was something from fairy tales, something that didn't exist. But then, on a day like today, in a club I had never set foot before, I met you and you completely changed my mind. Because I fell in love the moment we locked eyes and you smiled at me, Pedri. It was all that smile, to be honest. The one that by now you know makes me giggle like an idiot and feel funny things in my stomach. And when I think of the way you made me feel when you kissed me, when you…"
"Made you scream my name on the rooftop?" he smirks, opening one eye.
"I was going to say it in a more cheesy way and you just ruined it."
"Damn it" he chuckles. "You saying something like that happens once in a blue moon."
"It does. And when it happens, it is because of you. Because I love you, Pedri. I love you in a way I've never loved anyone before, and in a way I think I will never love anyone else. It's you. It's you, Pedri" I say, both my hands cupping his face, my eyes fixed on his now that both of them are finally open. "It is and will always be you. Only you" I whisper. 
"Can we kiss now or are you gonna keep being cheesy?" he smiles. And it is that smile, the one that completely disarmed me the night we met. 
"Idiot.”
"No one calls me idiot the way you do."
"I know" I smile back.
"But before we kiss…" he says. "Can I confess something?” 
"Ok."
"Ferran has been telling me almost daily to not give up, to be patient, that you still loved me and wanted me back, that we are destined to be together… So to keep reminding myself of all that, I've been coming here every 14 since you left, hoping that somehow you would show up."
"Really?"
"Yeah… I know it was a bit stupid because I knew you were in Manchester, but… I don't know. I just felt like I had to, you know?"
"It isn't stupid, Pedri. Because today I felt like I had to come here, it was like something was calling me… You."
"Glad to know my plan worked out" he laughs. "Why are you smiling like that?"
"I had missed your laugh" I shrug. "But that won't happen ever again. And do you know why?"
"Enlighten me, Valeria" he says with a teasing smile.
"It won't happen again because I'm not going anywhere, Pedri. I promise."
"Are you sure? Because you know how serious our promises are. You can't go back on it now" he says.
"I won't. I'm here to stay" I say, putting my hand over his heart. "Forever."
"Forever" he whispers before finally kissing me. 
At first it is a very soft kiss, almost shy. But it doesn't take us too long until we are kissing as if our lives depended on it, as if we needed the other to breathe. 
"I love you, Val" Pedri says when we manage to break apart. "I love you and I'm planning on telling you every hour of every day of the rest of my life."
"Isn't that a bit too much?" I laugh.
"It actually won't be enough."
"Dear lord, Pedro. You are so cheesy" I laugh again.
"Only for you, Val. Only for the love of my life" he smiles. "Happy anniversary, by the way."
"Happy anniversary" I reply with a matching smile before we start kissing again, the sun setting behind us as it did that first time on this beach. Like it did that first night at his house when he made me feel things I had never felt before. 
The night that even if my brain kept denying it, my heart was already completely his.
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Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna
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Usual warning. This is not a review. It's just me needing to put what I'm feeling somewhere. I just finished watching so there's absolutely no critical thinking happening here.
TL;DR: WATCH THIS SHOW!!!
Well I finally finished all of Tsukutabe and to say my heart is full feels small somehow. My heart grew. I remember when I finished the second season of Kinou Nani Tabeta, I was so overwhelmed with emotions and honestly I was not expecting to be in that place again. I called it magic and I have to echo those same feelings here. Because this show it's magic. It's a gift that makes me feel thankful that I got to experience it. I really have a hard time writing about this because I'm feeling so many things so I'll try to split it in smaller bits so maybe it sounds a bit more coherent. No promises though.
Kasuga I have to start here because she's my favourite, in case it wasn't obvious by my choice of pfp. She's so cute. I fell in love with her almost immediately. I've talked about this before but to see a character eat the way she does on screen healed something in me. The way she looks at Nomoto made me melt multiple times and her smile completely shatters this cold heart of mine. The episodes around her family had me bawling [normally I would wish for her father to be run over or something, but that would only add misery to Kasuga's mother, so I just hope he dies first] but seeing her put herself first and release herself from those expectations was amazing. Her journey was incredible and it was great that she was able to open up to Nagumo and Nomoto. I have to congratulate Nishino Emi for her portrayal of Kasuga. Considering she's not an actor (she's a musician btw) and this is her only acting credit, I thought the way she embodied Kasuga was really good.
Nomoto I adore her. Her happiness was infectious and she made me smile so wide. Cooking for your loved ones is just such the most beautiful thing to me and she and Shiro are the standard and everyone else can take notes. She's more open than Kasuga so we have more of an insight to her and to watch her awakening was amazing. It reminded me a bit Sakuko [Koisenu Futari] in the beginning. Her facial expressions always gave her away and it was such a contrast to Kasuga's reserved demeanor.
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THEM The Yin and Yang. They are so different on the surface but the way they come together and create a space for each other is just so beautiful to see. They are learning from each other through these two seasons and growing together and navigating the realities of their relationship and what it all means and how it makes them feel. I just love the happiness in Nomoto's eyes whenever Saguka is eating her food and the happiness and little smiles in Kasuga's face whenever Nomoto got really excited by a vegetable or a finished dish. They are perfect and will live happily ever after. Period.
Nagumo This girl has my whole heart. I said this before in the notes but every time she was on my screen I just wanted to give her a hug. She's fragile but resilient and although she was a bit shy at first, the way she shared her story with Kasuga and quickly became the person she went to for advice was so good. And to see her getting help, finding relief in a word and hope in the future made me cry so much. And when she took that bite it made my heart grow that very second. And just as a aside, the fact that the show chose to have her eat while the others didn't notice and after they did, they still didn't make it a big deal made me ugly cry. Because that's the magic part. That when I feel that a show knows what it's doing with its characters. And the moment at the end in the job thing when she said she wanted to do something that allowed to talk to people had me clapping like a proud mama.
Chiharu I love her. I love that Nomoto had someone by her side from the beginning that she could confide in and that was supportive. And that when she "messed up", like with the wedding talk, she was given space to reflect and understand and give her friend the space she needed to talk about it. Cause it's okay to not be all woke - god, I hate this word - all the time. As long as people are ready to listen to each other and learn from one another. Also always happy for the screw marriage discourse.
Yako The ace rep had me clapping at first of course. It's so rare anywhere in media so it always adds points no matter what. So obviously... I love her. She's such an amazing supporter. She's so kind and open. Her relationship with Nomoto was wonderful but she and Naguma gave me some of my favourite moments ever. Because being supportive sometimes is just being present, is asking questions, is just listening to understand and not judge. And to want those around you to grow. That moment where she realized what the move meant for Nagumo and asked her to go for a walk was so good.
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THESE WOMEN. I love these women. All of them. How they come together for each other, and the kindness and understanding made me ugly cry on more than one occasion.
The Food This show really speaks to me in several ways and I know I spoke of this before but I keep coming back to food.
You eat too much or you don't eat enough. Or you don't eat it the right way. Or eat the right things. Food is just sustenance for some. Food is joy to others. Food is what makes some of us get up in the morning. Food is to eat alone or together. It means a lot of different things to different people. It's food. You eat yours and I eat mine. Can we just not pay so much attention to this? Now that I got that out. Japanese shows are the best at using food in their stories. And more often that not, it's a place of joy and healing. And the fact that this series showed that food can also be a source of trauma and something that makes you different, as well as a place where you can heal is so important to me. Because I can relate to both those things. The dining table has been a place where I felt wrong different but also a place where I found so much joy.
The Magic Much like Kinou Nani Tabeta this show is full of magic. It was made by people that needed to make it, to talk about things that mattered, from a place of empathy and love. I feel like I was meant to watch this show. The universe conspired to put it in front of me. I understand this sounds super corny, and honestly if anyone else said this words to me I would be rolling my eyes way back into my skull, so I get it. But it feels cosmic somehow. Also fun fact that helps the magic of it all. One of the characters and I share a last name. Me, little portuguese me, and a japanese character from this show. Can you imagine the odds? And no, I have no connection to Japan whatsoever, and my last name isn't even a very common one in either country. So really it has to be magic, right? Also, I have a small confession. GL's were never my favourite. I'm enjoying 23.5 a lot for example but I'm never in a rush to watch them. I have a bias against them that I never really examined, except that I find that I'm much more critical of them so I enjoyed them less. But this show, these women, just moved the needle a bit. There are important conversations here, not just from a queer standpoint but from a female perspective that really resonated with me, so I might need to readjust some things. Anyway, I have a lot of feelings but this is already long. I'll be thinking about this show a lot more, and there will be giffing for sure so I won't leave these characters any time soon. Also, did I mention?, I LOVE Kasuga. SHE IS EVERYTHING TO ME and one of my favourite characters of all time.
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I already talked about the kindness in this show but I need to say it again. It's all about the kindness. These women. They are all so open and kind and because of that they are all better people and happier people. Maybe we can learn from them. If only we could be a little more kind to each other.
If you've made it to the end, thanks for reading💜. [A huge thanks to @furritsubs for giving us the opportunity to enjoy this masterpiece.]
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sai-lec · 11 hours
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People are platforming sainz way too much when he’s the worse driver in ferrari just because he had his appendix removed like that makes him the most amazing driver ever he really shouldn’t have gotten driver of the day nevermind a win when Charles did so much more and gave him the position
the way im just trying to enjoy my enchiladas oh my god anyway i wasn’t gonna answer just straight up carlos hate asks bc it’s pointless yet here i am
i just find it really interesting that people act like liking carlos = hating charles and vice versa bc that’s the common thread ive been seeing across what people have been saying in my inbox and also in reblogs etc etc . it’s always utilising charles to degrade carlos and specifically his driving performances which in all honesty is very disrespectful to the team as a whole
but the reason that carlos has been getting so much media attention is because there are huge circumstances around him this season . he entered the season not having a seat for next year; people were curious- how would he react? how was he going to prove himself as deserving of a competitive seat for 2025? was the decision going to impact his relationship with the team etc etc etc . there was a lot of questions around him going into the season . especially after the shitshow of the last few races of the 2023 season between his vegas penalty and the god awful tyre strategy they had him on that ruined his race in abu dhabi.
bahrain peaked people’s interest in him- between the ‘im faster’ and team fighting on track (might i add is what you all wanted to see charles do in australia because the team orders were holding him back but got really pissed off that carlos had the gall to fight in bahrain when charles’ pace was thrown off by his breaking issues) . seeing carlos come into the season with so much uncertainty surrounding him and his performance and seeping him qualify second row abd taking a podium on the first race of the season generated more excitement. he was showing the beginnings of a promising final season with ferrari which is a pretty big deal . so of course there is going to be a huge media buzz around him . everyone expects the red bulls to do well it’s not breaking news when max verstappen wins but a driver with nothing to lose driving like he has nothing to lose is an interesting story . it’s journalism girl.
regarding the appendix, again this just adds to the excitement about him . it’s all narrative . like obviously people were shocked when he was diagnosed with appendicitis and it invited jokes about alex albon and his appendicitis which spurred on the media attention . and showing up to watch the race 24 hrs after his surgery of course nobody expected that because he was literally there against doctors orders- which yet again is going to garner a lot of buzz that he is dedicated enough to the team to show up so quickly after surgery .
when it comes to him racing post appendectomy again it’s so obvious that this is something that the media will want to pick up ‘f1 driver takes first non-redbull win in 10 races 2 weeks after surgery’ is a great base headline . that’s journalism baby . but it got people talking because in all honesty he really shouldn’t have been in that car it’s clear that he’s still pretty in pain and people were curious - how will he perform? will he even make it through practise? is he recovered enough to drive? will he have to stop mid race? have they made accommodations to his car to take pressure off his wounds? like you have to remember the toll these cars have on the body of the driver especially across the core. it’s incredibly impressive for someone to get in the car in the process of recovering front any surgery. and for carlos to be still in the late stage of recovery and to pull such impressive results in qualifying and the race is impressive . objectively he had physical hinderance and raced extremely well in spite of it . people are going to talk about it because it is pretty impressive.
as for carlos winning driver of the day again people are just excited . voted him driver of the day in bahrain for his sheer fucking audacity and pulling the first podium of the season which got peoples hopes up for ferraris performance for the rest of the season . he got driver of the day in bahrain because people were extremely impressed with how he raced given his physical circumstances . yes i think charles was also a contender for driver of the day because he also had a great race with the ferrari 1-2 and his defending against the mclarens but driver of the day is a fan vote and people will be voting for what generated the most excitement for them thing the race .
i also wouldn’t say charles GAVE him the position- he already had it . what you’re looking o say is that you’re disappointed charles didn’t have the opportunity to fight for the win. which yeah i get it i would also like to see a charles win this season and some more fighting on the track . but what we need to understand is that this point in time where charles was a few seconds behind carlos the priority was to defend against lando who was showing really good pace at which point charles has to decide if it’s worth trying to close the gap of around 5 seconds or defend against lando who was 2-3 seconds behind him . and obviously at the end he couldn’t increase his speed under the vsc . it’s just racing circumstances .
anyway my point is . is it really that deep in the end . yes carlos is getting a lot of attention right now but it’s just because there’s literally so much going on around him between his career uncertainty illness surgery and stellar performance in the early season . there is no plot against charles or whatever u think is happening and i’m willing to place my life savings that if another driver went under for surgery and pulled those results there wouldn’t be half the backlash as we r seeing . this is just how media works . people are interested in him right now . it’ll pass . we are only 3 races into the season . chill .
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this-loser · 3 days
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I'll be Back!
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Author's Notes: Been sitting on this for a while and didn't think it would get anywhere, but obviously I was wrong! So this is the shortest chapter for now, mostly because it is the beginning and I wanted to set the scene before getting into more. I don't know how many chapters this series will be but know that I plan on making the next chapter longer and it might take me a while to upload it.
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「WC: 729」
「Summary: The simple promise of coming back soothed him until it didn't. Until the hours went by and the search began while time raced on as sickening cackling filled into the air.」
「Warnings: TW! Mentions of violence, heavy angst, depression, panic attacks, PTSD, Anxiety, and it might make you cry」
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「Chapter: Always be Mine as the World Turns Dark」
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Your laughter echoed in his head as he sat back on the couch. His eyes stuck on the small screen of the video camera. It was such a beautiful sound to him as he continued to watch the video.
“Jason!” You chirped, moving to him as he looked up from cleaning his guns. The sight of the camera in his face made him frown slightly and lower his gun as he sat up straighter. “Baby. Do you need to shove the camera in my face, I mean I’m aware of how ugly I am alread-” “No you’re not!” Your voice interrupts him and he can’t help but chuckle silently at your reaction, turning his head away while you pout. “Can’t we have something nice to remember ourselves by before we get old?” His attention is drawn onto the word “old” and he looks back at you with a raised brow. “Old? Nah.. You’ll outlive me, not like I haven’t died once before.” He can’t help but laugh while you shake, trying to hold in the laughter at his dark joke. “Jay, I swear-” “What are you gonna do? Punch me? Do it, I dare you.” He set his gun down onto the coffee table. “Come on, you swore,” He playfully mocks before scooping you up, your laughter filling the air as he gently tackles you onto the couch. “Can’t make a swear and not carry it out!”
Jason blinked quickly, tears gathering in his eyes as the video ends, your laughter echoing in his head as he struggles to not cry. The one good thing. The only good thing and it's gone from him. Somewhere out there in the underside of Gotham City. Lost and here he was wasting time, he needed a moment is what Bruce told him, watching the videos you recorded. The ones filled with love and happiness that seemed to haunt his mind and heart. “Fuck…” He muttered, voice raw and filled with anguish as he quickly hit the playback button, the video rewinding to the beginning. Your face, your smile, just you. It hurt the more he watched the video, craving you and everything that reminded him of you.
He could feel them. The tears finally rolled down his cheeks as he leaned forward, the video camera hiding his face as his forehead lightly pressed against the screen. Your laughter hitting his ears again and making his chest tighten horribly like someone was squeezing it.
Silence along with his quiet sniffling filled his apartment. The place was a mess since you disappeared. The small things you owned and the single plant you loved being cherished like it was all he had left of you. The single dim light of the floor lamp filled the living room, haunting and empty. A similar feeling the rest of the apartment gave that once had a happy couple. A deep rooted love between two flawed people, finding solace in each other.
The video played again. Your voice filled his ears as he kept crying and torturing himself before he went out again. Out to find you and bring you home.
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You hum softly. The hollowed echoes of a song that had love and hope in it, now turned into a sad calling. A comfort before the pain came back. The rope digging into your wrists, adding more to the bruises as the deafening silence had become too much again as your head stays lowered. Dried tears and blood on your face and nothing but pain riddling your body. Things were a blur. Memories and the torment of the last two weeks are still fresh.
The sound of feet outside the room was the only indication that you weren’t alone. Never alone with that monster outside. The thing that had tormented Jason now became your hell.
The door bursts open, his voice making you tense and stop humming. His voice was something you’d associated with the pain and now it was back. Fresh tears gather in your eyes as you start to tremble, aware that this chair and the ropes were about to be the only thing you could ground yourself on until the pain was over.
Sickening cackles fill the room, sweat starting to form on the back of your neck. All that you could do was grip the arm of the chair, nails digging into the wood.
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monacotrophywife · 2 days
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because in discussion with @blorbocedes i remembered this wip existed and it will never make it out of the gdocs in its entirety but i am hormonal as fuck and liked this - have a deeply sappy, self indulgent brocedes wedding. (the fic is actually about them getting divorced lmao) *
Even Toto is crying, Nico thinks with a hysterical kind of laugh threatening to escape his throat. He remembers the first lunch with Toto, when this all started again: he’d stared at them as though he was trying to remember whether he left the front door unlocked, as though they were speaking a slightly different language. He got the sense Toto had wanted to give them the talk, or a talk - don’t be shit on steroids - but he hadn’t. Years later, when they told him they were getting married, he’d said nothing for a second, then pulled them both into a neck-shattering hug at the same time, and said, accent thick with emotion: “Good. That’s good.” 
And now he’s there, eyes shiny, next to Susie, who’s gazing at them with the kind of love and pride Nico wishes he could let seep into his bones. He’s proud of them, too. He turns to Lewis, and he’s -
Lewis doesn’t cry often. He calls it a stiff upper lip. Nico called it repression, then, but now he just reminds Lewis it would be okay, if he did. He’s standing there now, though, custom Kenneth Nicholson suit, a piece of white racesuit sewn into the sleeve, and a pair of pearl studs in his ears, and there are tears tracking down his cheeks like tiny rivers of silver in the afternoon light. He’s smiling.
Nico chokes up, again, for the fifteenth time today, and Lewis’s eyes crinkle, a little. “C’mon, Nico. Keep it together.” he says, in a fake-whisper, and George barks a wet laugh from somewhere a couple of rows back. Nico shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak, but he’s smiling too. They’re all smiling, this band of people they’ve trusted to be here with them under the setting Mykonos sun.
The ceremony is short. Keke does a reading that Nico has to stare hard at the floor for, and Lewis clutches his hand so tightly it begins to hurt. They spend the evening in a small open-ended courtyard which looks out over the Aegean Sea, slowdance to Nina Simone’s To Love Somebody. Nico buries his face in Lewis’s neck and cries, again. It feels like the end of something as much as it does the start, aching and hopeful at once, and he feels his chest heaving with it as they sway, their little congregation watching on with hands clasped to their chests. Lewis presses a kiss to his ear.
So quietly only Nico can hear, he whispers, voice just above a rumble in the way he knows makes Nico stupid even now: “How drunk are you?” 
Nico grins, sniffing. Lewis has always known how to pull him out of his head.
“Not too drunk, if that’s what you’re asking.” 
Lewis pushes Nico’s head back so he can see his face, holds him at arm’s length, casts his eyes down at Nico’s shirt, unbuttoned now and creased, and licks his lips, intentional. “Oh, I’m asking.”
Then he leans forward and presses his forehead to Nico’s, and they sway until gradually, others join them on the cobbles. 
They don’t live up to their promises, though. When they make it back to the suite, the sky is already losing its inky blue, a thin sliver of pink creeping over the sea. Nico watches Lewis remove his jewellery, everything except one careful platinum band, as though he’s moving through treacle, his face hurting from smiling.
“Come here, please.” 
Lewis smiles back at him, easy, places his shirt on the chair first, then the trousers. “Wait a sec.”
“I don’t want to wait.” Nico says, pouting, and Lewis mock-gasps. “Demanding. I’ve married someone bossy. I’ve basically married Toto.”
Nico yelps. “Lewis!” He just gets a cackle in response, followed by Lewis draping himself, compact and warm, along the side of Nico’s body. 
They kiss, slow and lazy, for a few minutes, but it doesn’t go anywhere: Nico’s hands stay on Lewis’s face, fingertips tracing his shoulder. Lewis’s mouth stays on Nico’s, soft. 
“I know - it’s stupid, it’s our wedding night, but I'm -” Lewis says, hesitantly. Nico laughs into Lewis’s neck. “No, I know. Me too.”
“Tomorrow. I’ll make it up to you.” Lewis says fervently, leaning to bite gently into Nico’s lip like a promise. Nico kisses Lewis’s nose back. “Mmm. Do you want to pick a year?”
“Now?” 
“Just to fall asleep to. We don’t need to see the end. I think we’ve seen them all now anyway.” 
A long-held tradition: they’d started it in their teens, picking the races carefully from the available stacks of VHS tapes Nico found in Keke’s office. Then later, with every race available online, they’d taken it in turns to pick a year, the other picking the circuit. It was part competition - who remembered the podium, who remembered the strategy, who remembered the winner - and part dissection, making their own pronouncements about pitstop timings and tyre choices, analysing overtakes. More often than not they’d disagree - that was part of it, too, Nico suddenly becoming McLaren’s most ardent supporter, just because Lewis had disagreed with a two-stop, Lewis renouncing all previous allegiances to defend Red Bull’s team orders if Nico took the opposite stance.
“2003,” Lewis says, voice easy. Nico snorts, racking his brains. “A connoisseur’s choice. I’ll say Hungary.”
Lewis snorts back knowingly. They know them all now. Nico scrolls through, finding the race, and lets Lewis pull him back tightly into his body, hook his chin over Nico’s shoulder to watch.
“Did you pick this because Michael doesn’t win?” Lewis says, sleepy, into his ear. Nico huffs.
“I can’t believe you’d think that of me.”
“Okay, did you pick it because Fernando does?”
Nico laughs now, exhausted and delirious. “Yes. Just to annoy you.”
Lewis nods into his neck. “I love you too. This is the one where Villeneuve has -”
“Hydraulic failure, I know.”
“I know you know.”
They're asleep before the first round of fuel stops.
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wikipedie · 1 year
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The way Merlin is a tragedy disguised as a comedy
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sexynetra · 6 months
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i found lots of symone pics as i searched for gettyimages gigi so !! here is a delivery of gettyimages symone straight to your door :)
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This is so huge for me wowie wow wow what a day what a celebration!
Her face? Her legs? Her understanding of her body??? She’s everything to me and I never even expected to care about her when I started the season 😭
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