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topguncortez · 10 months

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The Origins of Honeybee || part 2

previous part | Bob & Bea Masterlist | opposites attract masterlist

synopsis: Bob gets a call from the woman who's had his heart in her hands for the past decade. Bea tries to forget the real reason she showed up on Bob's doorstep

word count: 3.0k

warnings: religious trauma, teen pregnancy, mentions of depression, adoption, mentions of verbal abuse, running away, mentions of distorted eating, language

Bob’s hands were sweaty as he stood in the middle of the airport. He kept moving the bouquet of sunflowers and yellow roses from hand to hand so he could wipe his palms on his khakis. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t seen you in over five years and suddenly, you were flying across the country and showing up on his doorstep. The call had been cryptic, but Bob gathered enough from the waiver in your voice, and he didn’t hesitate to buy you a plane ticket.

It wasn’t that Bob wanted to cut off communication with you for the past five years, it was that you told him it was for the best. It had been too hard to try and maintain a long-distance relationship with you trying to finish your masters degree and Bob being the best WSO that he possibly could be. It hurt Bob more than anything to have to let you go, but if it was going to help you heal, then he was more than willing to break his own heart for you.

His ears perked up as he heard the overhead speaker announce what carousel your baggage would be on. Suddenly his heart started racing and his blue eyes scanned all the faces of people coming off the escalator. He wondered if he’d even be able to recognize you. How much have you changed in five years? He knows he’s changed a lot. He no longer had that extra baby fat on his cheeks, he had to shave every day or else he had a five o’clock shadow, he also kept his hair trimmed up and short for work.

“Bobby?” All his fears seemed to melt away as he heard your sweet voice fill his ears. He turned around and his eyes widened in surprise.

“Honeybee,” Bob sighed and pulled you in for a hug without a second thought. He tried to ignore the pang in his chest as you froze for a moment before you hugged him back. He pulled away and awkwardly held the bouquet of flowers out for you, “These are for you.”

“Thank you, Bobby,” You said and took the flowers from him.

Bob nodded and stuffed his hands into your pockets, “Your uh, your bags are on carousel-”

“I didn’t bring much,” You said and gestured to the duffle bag down by your feet, “This was all I took.”

Bob nodded again, his eyebrows furrowed a bit in confusion. That was one thing that seemed to have changed throughout the years. He could remember when you moved in with him junior year, and how his closet and dresser were overrun with your clothing and shoes. But now, it looked like you packed up all your belongings into a duffle bag and a backpack.

“Well, are you hungry?”

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — —

You were starving, and it took all your willpower not to scarf down the burger in front of you. You took your time to chew your food, savoring the taste of something with flavor. Your diet as of late consisted of buttered pasta and oatmeal. You could tell Bob was chomping at the bit to ask why you had called him of all people. It had been five years since you spoke to him, and now you were sitting across from him in San Diego with nothing more than two bags and a hundred dollars in your bank account.

“Have you heard from Ava and Natalie?” Bob asked and you sucked in a breath, “I-I was just wondering since-”

“No, I haven’t talked to them,” You said and twirled the straw in your drink around, “She uh. . . she called last week. It caught me totally off guard.”

Bob smiled, “Yeah, I got a call too. She knew it was my birthday and told Natalie she wanted to talk to me.”

“Natalie says Eloise likes numbers. She’s a lot like you in that regard.”

“She got lucky,” Bob said, looking down at the food in front of him, “She’s got four parents who love her to the moon in back.”

Everyone in town thought that you and Bob were making a mistake when you decided to give your baby up for adoption. But you both knew it was the best option for her. You were young, still a child yourself, and didn’t know how you were going to raise a baby in a town that had turned your back on you. When the word spread that you were having a child out of wedlock, you had been fired from the daycare center, their reasoning was you weren’t a “good role model” for the children. You had been asked to not come back to church unless you and Bob were getting married. You were spiraling into a depression and it got to the point where you were hardly getting out of bed to eat or take care of yourself. You didn’t know how you could raise a baby, someone who was going to be 100% dependent on you if you couldn’t even find the strength to get out of bed in the morning.

You were actually the one to make the suggestion to Bob one day. He at first was against it. Bob couldn’t stand the thought of someone else raising his child. But then he heard your side of things, listened to your reasoning, and watched you with tears in your eyes tell him that this was the best thing you could give your child. Bob sat by your side through every single meeting with your adoption counselor, met with all the potential couples, and listened to their speeches on why they would be the perfect parent for your child. It was hard for you two to settle on a couple, not that any of them were bad people, they just were all too stiff, giving you the car salesmen’s pitch. That was until you met Ava and Natalie.

Your adoption agent told you that it was harder for same-sex couples to adopt and they often get overlooked. Ava and Natalie had tried for years to conceive on their own but were met with tragedy after tragedy. You weren’t sure what drew you to them, maybe it was the way that Natalie talked to you like you were a lifelong friend, or maybe it was the way that Ava could relate to Bob’s desire to want to move the hell out of Montana. But after that first meeting with them, you knew that they were the perfect pair to raise your baby.

It had been the hardest day of your life, placing your baby in someone else's arms and watching them walk away with her. Bob had to physically keep you from crashing to the ground as you tearfully waved goodbye to your daughter Eloise and her new parents. It hurt like hell, but you knew that it was the best choice for her and the two of you. And you had been right in choosing Ava and Natalie. The two of them kept you and Bob in the loop when it came to milestones with Eloise, sending you pictures and videos and holiday art projects. Every year you and Bob sent a birthday gift for Eloise and her parents would send you a video of her opening it in return.

Ten years later, the ache in your chest still didn’t go away, and the same with Bob. He thought about Eloise constantly, and every night he would say a small prayer for God to watch over and protect her. He also always said a prayer for you too, that wherever you were on the planet you were doing alright. Bob told himself, if he ever got the chance to sit down with you again, he wasn’t going to pry and ask a thousand questions about what you had been doing, but he couldn’t help it.

There was just something off about you, and he had to know.

“Honeybee, I-” Bob leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table.

“Bea,” You said, cutting him off, “Please. . . Don’t call me ‘honeybee’.”

Bob nodded and sat back in his chair a bit, “I’m glad you called me but. . . what’s going on? Are you okay? If you’re in trouble I can-”

“I-” You opened your mouth a couple of times and then looked down at your hands. You let out a shaky sigh, running your hand through your hair, “I had to leave, Bobby. I can’t say much more than that, and please, don’t ask.”

Bob’s blue eyes narrowed at you. You didn’t have anything physically wrong with you that Bob could see, but there was no light behind those eyes he fell in love with all those years ago. Your hair seemed dull, and he noticed that your smile didn’t quite stretch across your face like it used to. But, if there was one thing Bob had been good at, it was keeping a secret.

So, Bob did the one thing that he knew would bring you so much comfort. He extended out his pinky and held it towards you. You smiled at him, a genuine smile, and wrapped your pinky around his.

“I swear,” You both said at the same time, kissing the pads of your thumbs and then pressing them together.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — —

Bob hadn’t allowed you to rent a hotel room. In fact, the moment you told him that you had gotten one, he made you cancel it. He had a decent house off base that always felt too big to him. He insisted that you take his room, while he took the guest room. The reasoning he gave was that it had an attached bathroom, and he wanted you to have as much privacy as you could get in the two-bedroom house.

It had been almost two weeks of living with Bob. You two had slowly fallen into a normal routine as you had never been apart for the last five years. You didn’t even need an alarm clock to wake up at the same hour as Bob did. While he got in the shower and shaved for work, you found your way to his kitchen (which you went and stocked. . . after calling his mother and having her scold him for having nothing but boxed macaroni and cheese) and started breakfast and making lunch for him.

Bob would join you right as the toast would pop up from the toaster, and pour two cups of coffee for the both of you. He would then help you clean the kitchen, as you packed up his lunch, and set in by the front door with his backpack, a travel mug, and a snack for when he’d go to the gym after work. And every morning, just like when he went to work for Ol’ Man Silverspoon, you’d stand on the front porch and watch him pull out of the driveway in that old Ford pick-up he refused to get rid of.

Slowly, the Dagger squad noticed the changes in Bob. Phoenix was the first to notice, being one of the closest members to him. She noticed that his flight suits smelled like lavender and he was actually bringing a healthy lunch to work instead of his usual honeybuns and cheetohs from the vending machine. She also noticed that he would leave the Hard Deck earlier than usual on Friday nights, and would hardly talk to anyone on the weekends.

Phoenix was sitting across from her sister in the breakroom, enjoying their lunch, well, Dragon hastily picked at hers, her morning sickness still getting the best of her, when Bob came and joined them. Both of the girls greeted him, as he sat and opened his lunch box.

“Here,” Bob said, “I was told you should try this.” He handed a small baggie of chips to Dragon. The Trace girl furrowed her eyebrows at him, “They’re ginger kettle chips. I was told that they help with morning sickness.”

“You know that ginger helps with morning sickness?” Dragon asked.

Bob just shrugged, “My mom said it always does the trick.”

Dragon nodded, pushing away the salad that Bradley had packed for her, and opened the bag of chips. She took a sniff of them, before pulling one out and biting it slowly. She chewed it before looking at her sister with wide eyes.

“Holy shit, these are actually good,” Dragon laughed.

“Told ya,” Bob chuckled, taking out the ham sandwich you had packed him, “Honeybee knows what she’s doing.”

“Honeybee?” Phoenix asked. Bob stopped about mid-bite and realized what he had just said.

“I-”

“Robert Michael Floyd, do you have a woman?!” Phoenix smiled, and Bob blushed, setting his sandwich down.

“It’s a complicated story,” Bob said, “We were together, a long time ago, but we separated and now she’s back, and I-”

“Are all blushy, gushy,” Dragon said, nudging him. Bob shook his head and looked down at his food, “Well, she made me and my baby happy, so I already like her.”

“It’s very easy to make you and your baby happy. I watched you eat pickles and peanut butter yesterday,” Phoenix pointed out.

“Bean’s got exquisite taste,” Dragon moved her eyebrows up and down as she placed her hand on her belly and leaned back in her chair, “And speaking of Bean, they are sitting on my bladder,” She pushed herself up from the chair, “Tell ‘honeybee’ thank you for the chips.”

The second that her sister was gone, Phoenix turned and faced her WSO. Bob clenched his jaw, trying his best to keep the red from creeping up his cheeks under Phoenix’s stare. From the moment they met, Bob hadn’t kept a single thing from her. She was his best friend, his closest confidant. He told her everything about Bea, and Elosie and how his heart still belonged to her after all these years.

“I was going to tell you,” Bob sighed, “I just. . . I wanted to have a little more time with her by myself before I told you, and then everyone.”

“I get it,” Phoenix nodded and put her hand on his forearm, “You don’t have to tell me every-”

“It’s what makes us a good team.” Phoenix smiled and nodded. Bob was right, their open and honest relationship was what made them one of the best pilot/co-pilot duos in the military.

“It does, but I know how much she and Elosie mean to you,” Phoenix said, “How is she?”

“She’s. . .” Bob sighed, “She acts and looks like the same Honeybee, but there’s something different. Something, I don’t know, off? I just can’t quite-” The sound of Bob’s phone buzzing in his pocket cut him off. He furrowed his eyebrows as he reached into his chest pocket, pulling his phone out, “Hello?.. What? No, slow down, I can’t. . . No! Don’t just. . . I’ll be home in five,” He stood up abruptly from the table, gathering his trash in his hand, “Whatever you do, Honeybee, do not leave. I’ll be right there.”

“What’s going on?” Phoenix asked, standing up.

“Not sure, but she says she has to run. That he’s found her.”

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — —

You couldn’t stop the tears from running down your cheeks as you paced back and forth in Bob’s kitchen. You had finally been able to catch your breath after doing some of the breathing exercises your therapist had coached you on. Your hands still felt numb and tingly as you looked at the packed duffle bag on the floor right next to the door.

The second you answered the unknown call, you knew it wasn’t going to be good. Every fiber in your being was screaming at you to not answer it, but you did anyway. His voice sent a shiver down your spine, as the breath was stolen from your lungs. You had thought that you escaped it. That you had done everything you could to run away from him and the monsters that were still out there. The man you had hired to make it look like you had vanished without a trace said it had worked.

You jumped at the sound of the front door being pushed open. Closing your eyes and taking slow breaths, you listened as Bob’s footsteps entered into the kitchen.

“Honeybee,” He sighed out.

“B-Bobby,” Your lip quivered as you ran to him. He wrapped his arms tightly around you as you sobbed into his chest, “He’s found me. He’s coming for me.”

Bob pulled away from you, cradling your tear stained cheeks in his hands, “Who? Who is, Honeybee?”

“My husband.”

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hwaightme · 1 year

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Feels Like Home (part 1)

(part 2)

pairing: seonghwa x fem!reader genre: fluff, slight angst, doctor!seonghwa, graphic designer!reader, slice of life summary: What is home? Perplexed by this notion, you spent many years looking for your own answer, moving and running from your past. Your new neighbour, Park Seonghwa, might just be the key to discovery. wordcount: 5.7k warnings: language, mentions of food, mentions of the pandemic, anxiety, mention of past abusive relationships a/n: thank you all so much for the love <3 beyond grateful for you, and am inspired by you! Here is a work on the longer side, so I will be splitting it into two parts, stay tuned~

You lucked out. After having spent over two years migrating from one disastrous excuse for an apartment, to another, you finally felt like you could relax. No more leaks, no more creepy crawlies threatening to fall right on your face in the middle of the night… you shuddered at the memory; no more landlords that enjoyed screaming down the phone at you… you could finally achieve your domestic dreams and lounge at home to your heart’s content.

The apartment itself was on the more ‘compact’ side, located on the ninth floor of a complex in a quiet residential area. The living room, dining room and kitchen were combined, but not overwhelmingly so – everything still had its own area, and in no time did you set up your rather wild collection of plans by the sliding windows. Since the building was fairly new, you did not need to invest much in any repainting or cleaning of the apartment, and by the grace of the landlady who took a liking to you, the deposit was equally reasonable. It was almost worth it going through all the terrors after university, just to appreciate this place.

This was the place that made you understand why some people never wanted to leave their house or area – to be frank, you were turning into one of them. Only leaving on the days you had to, your hybrid work as a graphic and brand designer was becoming better and better, and finally you managed to get rid of the nickname your colleagues gave to you: “true businessman”. Your old place had gotten you used to spending some nights in the office common room, just to avoid the seedy neighbourhood, cracking walls and windows that were threatening to fall out at any second.

Really, it was heaven and earth. What was another very welcome change was the difference in neighbours. Whilst before there was that one elderly couple down the street that ran a tteokbokki stall, sure, they couldn’t exactly make you feel continuously welcome and safe, not when you quite literally had a loan shark knock on your door that one time, and then go “oops sorry wrong address, keep your money in a bank, kid”. Since that day you became the most loyal out of your friends to filling out taxes and budgeting.

In this apartment complex, there was the receptionist downstairs who, without fail, would give you the most reassuring nod humanly possible and then with a rough clearing of the throat, would go back to solving puzzles in the newspaper he subscribed to. There also was the family of four, man and wife and their boy and girl, who lived right down the corridor from you (and who you did hear on occasion, but this was nothing) – total sweethearts, the types of neighbours who left you alone, but in a good mood. And of course, him.

Park Seonghwa.

Lived two doors away and across the corridor from you. Worked as a junior resident at a hospital. A dream of a man. You two clicked instantly; maybe it was the circumstances of your first meeting that did it. You, in an oversized puffer coat, scarf wrapped up to your very eyes and a hat completing your disguise, only the crinkling of the plastic bag in your hands revealing why you were out and about at two thirty-five in the morning. Him, eyes slightly bloodshot, beanie tugged off to reveal a mop of black hair, and what looked to be a while lab coat protruding from layers of rained-on outerwear. Needless to say, both of you made quite a fascinating impression.

“So, what did you cook up in the labs this time of night, good sir?” you tried, too sleep-deprived to not fulfil your need for entertainment.

“Probably something that you were buying, good madam.” Seonghwa shot back at the speed of light, spinning on his heels to face you. You had stopped him right when he was about to unlock his front door. You noted the smirk that was appearing on his lips, and at that moment you decided that he was your type of man.

In your full incognito Mr. Stay-Puft glory you sashayed over to your neighbour, reaching into the bag and taking out a tightly packed cylinder.

“No wonder kimbap is so addictive.”

“Oh no! Not the ultra-classified prototype! Society is in danger!” raising his hands up, acting every part the diva in a low-budget, trashy horror flick, Seonghwa began to charm his way into your heart. So you did what no introvert had ever done before and, upon loosening your scarf slightly, took the risk and… introduced yourself.

“L/N Y/N. Your neighbour from… that door over there. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” You bowed your head, momentarily concealing your shy smile.

“Park Seonghwa. The neighbour you just intercepted, and the pleasure is all mine.”

That night you had also made the gutsy move to offer to snack on the kimbap together, which led to the pair of you having one philosophical discussion after another all through the night, ranging from the basics like ‘how come we did not talk a single time until now’ to the more insightful ‘what hope of yours would you want to reignite’ to the showstopper ‘why was there sound in the Star Wars intergalactic battles’. Probably the last one could be considered your first argument, but you were adults who knew how to communicate over even the most critical matters.

Steadily, you and Seonghwa became practically inseparable and were orbiting around one another even if outside of the complex. Your work schedules somehow complemented one another, and where he had to work night shifts or catastrophically long hours, you would be ready with a comforting meal and a completed chore or two – otherwise mundane and tiring but seeing a grown man giggle because he heard you took the trash out was beyond and became your choice of entertainment. Likewise, if you had project deadlines or particularly stressful client negotiations, Seonghwa would be right at your door, ready to take care of, quite literally, anything you would point at. Not that your friend from college would ever find out, but he was the one texting her back about what laundry detergent she should buy.

As time went on, you also got to see each other at your worst and lowest. His transition into being a full-time medical doctor was met with crash courses in intense epidemiology and volumes of patients unprecedented to him. Returning home after days of barely sitting down and intermittently losing consciousness for minutes of sleep had become a horrendous routine at a certain point. Seonghwa had crashed just about anywhere one could think of. His apartment, yours, even the corridor. And every time, your heart broke just a little, and you would climb close, flinging his arm around your neck and shoulder, and be his guide to a haven.

Though you would never understand the exact pain he felt, nor what he had to see out there and what choices he was forced to make, you tried your best to support Seonghwa how you could. Need more personal protective equipment? You were on it. Need hand sanitiser and antibacterial surface cleaner? Done and stocked up. Need to sit on the floor in silence for an hour and wait until the cacophony of the day stopped echoing in the mind? You were always ready.

It was the night of the 3rd of April, yet Seonghwa did not feel even a little bit happier, nor smarter, nor like he had the right to celebrate. For the most part, he had suppressed the fact that it was his birthday, instead pouring himself out at work until he could barely stand. At that point, like an automaton he followed the command of the doctor on call and trudged home, to the complex. He fell asleep twice on the metro, nearly missing his stop, and could barely walk up the tiny hill that now seemed to be a mountain.

He was fed up. Everything was too much. His own body was an unbearable load he had to carry. How did he fall victim to the illusion that the life of a doctor was one where he would feel gratitude and honour? The longer Seonghwa studied and worked, the more confident he became that no one ever said thank you to a medical professional. No, only blamed them. Blamed them for mistakes they did not make. Blamed them for the risks they did not take. Blamed them for when they tried their hardest, but that still was not enough.

Seonghwa thought of his family. How proud they were when he left his hometown to pursue his dreams at a prestigious university in Seoul. It used to bring him joy to think that the next time he would return for the holidays, his parents would show him off to anyone they could, and his brother would give him a congratulatory pat on the back and share the words ‘I knew you could do it, little bro’. He desperately wanted to return to the time when he still knew little about the field, so that it would not yet be tainted by the true colours of the world.

The wind was unusually cold for April, as though the winter had decided to return for a spring break. The young, fatigued man was fighting a losing battle against the gusts which did little to prevent tears from welling up. Not much longer now. One foot in front of the other. He was attempting to encourage himself to get across the little square in front of his building. In a confused panic when he almost lost his footing because of a hidden rock on the path, he raised his head, pleading for something better than this. Searching for a light.

There it was. A warm hue. Cheerful rays housed in four walls, hinting at a life behind the curtains. The sun that set only when you decided. The windows of your apartment, facing the square. He could imagine you swaying to whatever new release you had discovered, humming along to mask that you did not know the lyrics, cooking away. That was his guiding star.

In brighter spirits, Seonghwa managed to make his way to the ninth floor, where he was promptly greeted by your front door opening, and you in an oversized hoodie inviting him over for dinner once he was done with his second de-scrub and cleaning. Relief washed over him. After you had officially met and cemented yourselves as more than just neighbours, you had been nothing but kind and understanding of him. His work-induced lifestyle did not matter much to you, and you had not commented a single time that he should ‘change his ways’ or ‘go into a different field of medicine’. Over dinner at a local restaurant Seonghwa had explained to you his dreams of being a neurosurgeon, and you had merely lit up in admiration and commended him for his determination and strength.

This evening, too, you were right there for him. Once he had cleaned himself up and was at your door, he was greeted by an array of dishes that you had painstakingly been preparing for a few hours. From the traditional miyeok-guk to pajeon, you had done everything in your power to celebrate Seonghwa, even if it was just for a little, until midnight. That was when the swelling of his heart became too much, and he collapsed onto one of the dining chairs, head in his hands. The tears that had been on the verge of falling for the hours he was working were finally set free, and he could not help but want to hide.

You were taken aback. Never before had you brought anyone to tears. Especially for doing something that you would consider nice. But your intuition told you that there was something more to this, you were not one to judge. Seonghwa had been under pressure for an astonishingly long time, and his ability to still function blew you away. You did not know his whole story, but you wanted to ensure that he could get the happy ending he wanted.

Silently you poured the fragrant seaweed soup that you made, trying to follow a variation created by a cook from South Gyeongsang province, and set the bowl in front of him. You sat down across from the birthday boy. When he failed to move, you nudged his elbow with a plate of danmuji you had bought. When he finally looked up at you, eyes watery and red, you mustered your brightest grin and whispered:

“Don’t over-salt the food, Seonghwa, I want you to try it as is.” Hearing his chuckle was music to your ears. You reached over to pass him his cutlery, and before moving away, softly squeezed his forearm in reassurance. The gesture was meant to be brief and non-invasive, but Seonghwa had other plans and wrapped his fingers around your forearm, letting time stand still. He was aware that you were in a relationship with some good-for-nothing, so did not overstep any boundaries (though his body was screaming at him to act), but the touch had triggered a shutdown of his rumination. Right there and then, he was home.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He released you, only to pick up the spoon you provided and dig into the soup.

“You are very welcome, Seonghwa. Happy birthday.”

Not long after that, about a year and a half of you knowing one another, your neighbour turned closest friend had comforted you through loss of love; something you had initially attempted to hide, seeing as the loss Seonghwa had to witness day in day out was gut-wrenching on a different level, but he wanted to hear none of it. That same moment that he had managed to pry out of you the reason for your melancholy, he called into work claiming an emergency day off. He had stormed into your apartment with a mission to make you smile at least once, or at least to make you feel lighter – he did not have to try too hard, you had to admit. Part of you was certain that it was exactly because you had Seonghwa you could walk out of your ex-boyfriend’s apartment with a smile on your face.

The waves of bitter regret had hit you only after you came home. Replaying every scene in your head, you never thought yourself to be the one who would, one, be able to put up with someone, in retrospect, so judgemental for a total of three years, and two, be the one who was cheated on and then cussed out. The magical world of the new apartment complex you lived was shuddering under the heaviness of your dark mood.

The few weeks before Seonghwa had fully committed to treatment had passed agonisingly slow, with you hurling your phone across the living room in an attempt to silence the spam from your ex and existing on mere inertia. Getting up because you had to. Breathing out of habit. You had been struggling to keep your focus during meetings and had notified your team that you were to be exclusively online for the next couple of weeks due to being under the weather. By grace, your boss was more than understanding. And that was when you stopped being bothered to draw your curtains or to take care of yourself. Your ecosystem rapidly decreased in size until it was mashed into your apartment. Seonghwa was the one to see the signs. You were convinced that it was because he was a doctor and thus had a sixth sense, but he did not dare explain why he was acting the way he was. At least it was not the right time.

You healed fast. And got back into the pleasant lifestyle of amiable banter and housekeeping with Seonghwa. However, a few things had definitely changed since overcoming the various plot twists life had thrown at you. Probably one of the most obvious ones was that neither of you were hesitant to share stories about one another to your respective circles. Moreover, both of you would chat away even when unprompted, which had earned you a few sighs already. To express gratitude and satisfy your curiosity for where Seonghwa worked, you surprised him by bringing him a boxed lunch he had been raving about. This had set off a couple of rumours about you, though they were dispelled very quickly by your neighbour’s squadron of ambitious, wild, and hilarious doctors. They were quick to state that you had ‘old married couple energy’ and were asking if you could adopt them so they could get good treatment too. While you were laughing, you failed to notice the proud and warm grin that danced on Seonghwa’s lips and made his dark eyes gleam.

This was your shared rhythm. Your shared feeling of home.

☼☼☼☼☼

“Hey, do you need me to pick anything up on the way home?” your neighbour asked, his voice turning static for a split second as you switched the call to speaker.

You were currently hidden away in your home office – a tiny closet of a bedroom that you had converted to something of a studio for your creative deeds. So far, it was simply a desk and chair facing the window, a shelving unit housing random prototyping and art materials as well as being a pedestal to a potted English ivy to your right, and an overfilled corkboard to your left. As Seonghwa had commented, it was a manifestation of your creative and professional self. Truer words could not be said – it explained why you were constantly thinking of ways to update the interior.

As you repeatedly dragged and clicked with your mouse, scrutinising the vector image you were in the process of designing, you mumbled your resident partner in crime a response:

“I think I am good for now…”

“Really? So, we are just going to brush over the fact that you ran out of onions last week?”

You chuckled. The name under which you had him saved, ‘Mother Hwa🖤’ was very appropriate right that second. Nevertheless, these were the moments when you felt the most at ease. There was someone taking care of you, even though you were away from your childhood home, away from your old friends. There was someone right beside you, who you knew would return any care and affection a thousand-fold.

“See? You somehow know the contents of my kitchen better than I do. Please bestow some more knowledge upon me, dear Mars bar.” You countered, not looking away from your screen to pretend like you were still concentrated on work and not a soft mushy mess.

“Well… there was that one seasoning you had… you know the one in the red packet with the TV show host guy randomly in the corner and-” you tilted your head at the sudden pause “…since when am I a Mars bar???” you had to purse and suck in your lips to prevent a loud giggle from spilling out.

“Because you are a snack, Seonghwa.” Your success at a deadpan delivery sent the man on the call into a state of ‘error.exe’, even though the joke was outdated and highlighted how both of you were not quite the peak of modernity among the youth.

Before you had attained the status of singlehood, you were a lot more reserved with your jokes and flirtation, and understandably so. You had not wanted to appear to be a player, not give anyone false hopes. Seonghwa had to admit that it had been slightly easier to talk to you when he felt as though he had no chance. Now, more often than not, your comments reduced him to nothing more than a pained expression and flaming cheeks. Believing that there could be something, a tomorrow, hell, a whole future with you, really sent him into a mental frenzy.

“…okay… then I won’t get you the bbungyeoppang that is on sale since I am enough.” He whispered. Nothing much, but a shiver still ran down your spine at the sudden sultriness in his enunciation.

“Why not spice things up and add a plus one, especially since they are so willing?” you countered, mirroring him.

“Oh you- ah sorry, I have to drop the call, duty calls. Hongjoong is asking for a consult. Then I’ll pick up the groceries on the way, see you later Y/N.” Seonghwa rushed, jolting you back to reality. That’s right, you were still in your tiny room, in front of your set up, hand hovering above the mouse.

“Sure, got you. See you later, Seonghwa!”

As soon as you ended the call and watched the phone screen fade to black, you spun around on your chair, doing a miniature wiggle dance. These domestic interactions had never failed to give rise to pure glee within you. It was a tad unconventional to be pretty much sharing living space with someone who, technically, was just your neighbour, but it felt more than right. Oh, the wonders of having powered through life struggles and global crises together.

While you continued to work away at a brand re-design portfolio deck, Seonghwa was left standing in one of the many passageways of KQ Hospital where he worked. This particular one was almost fully glass, connecting the emergency centre to the main building. Whenever he felt like shooting you a quick text or to slow down after doing rounds and more training, Seonghwa would come here. To some degree, the location reminded him of the apartment complex – people bolting across, on a mission, never stopping to admire the setting sun that the glass captured, turning the linoleum floor into a carpet of glistening gold. People greeting each other with a curt nod, posing as good colleagues when in fact they had no idea what the other’s name was, nor why they felt obligated to follow societal norms and not ignore one another. Seonghwa, too, was guilty of this, especially in his first rotations when everything was a huge blur.

At one point he had even ceased to reach out to his friends – those in the exact same rotation and doing the same shifts as him, let alone those with whom, on top of exhaustion, there were other excuses. Funnily enough, it was you who pulled him out of this pattern, preventing him from losing himself and who he held dear. You reminded him that even in this vast world where one can never quite know anyone’s full story, you can find those whom you wouldn’t mind co-authoring with. One of these people was Hongjoong, his best friend since the first year of medical school and colleague he could count on. The shorter man was standing at the entrance to the passageway, arms crossed, his mobile phone dangling between two fingers.

“No wonder I couldn’t call you, Hwa. You were flirting with Y/N again.”

“Come on, man, I wasn’t flirting.” Seonghwa waved his friend off, hiding his phone in his scrubs.

“Then what was it, digital first base?”

Seonghwa could imagine the mischievous expression on Hongjoong’s face, one not dissimilar to that of a dad figuring out that his son was talking to someone in a very happy tone. Sighing deeply, he chose to not look to his side and continue walking, hands in his pockets. Seeing that the joke did not quite land, Hongjoong backtracked and added:

“If it is going to make you actually respond to me, I can start paging you, I don’t mind. I have gotten pretty good at dialling up the numbers at lighting speed.” This made Seonghwa shudder and turn dramatically.

“Oh, you would not dare, Kim Hongjoong, I am still getting flashbacks from the time the senior resident just decided to give me three pagers on a Friday night shift.” He proclaimed, placing a hand on his chest.

“You’ll deal with it, better train those nerves up for when you become a neurosurgeon.” Hongjoong poked him in the arm, then fell into the same stride as his friend.

That was how it had been through out the years they had known each other. Through thick and thin, on caffeine or suffering through withdrawals. They had sworn to support one another through the thorned path that was medicine, and somehow had managed to deal with each other’s nonsense. At this point they could be called brothers, having only moved into different apartments by mutual agreement to not drive each other insane 24/7. Interestingly, their opportunity to spend some time apart, forming their own habitats and lives not directly related to careers and studies, had enabled them to be even better attuned to each other’s changes. This was how Hongjoong knew you were someone who Seonghwa could rely on. In a matter of weeks after ghosting those closest left and right, he had walked into the staff common room with an apologetic smile and coffee for all his friends who he had gathered prior. And, upon being taken aside by Hongjoong for a miniature interrogation, brushed any suspicions and hypotheses aside, only saying that ‘he had found home’.

Needless to say, when the bond between you two began to grow stronger, and you had, evidently, not left his side for the duration of the worst parts of the pandemic, nor did Seonghwa abandon any hopes as he had previously done when it came to even hints of relationships, for Hongjoong you were instantly approved. Bonus points for having returned the next day after bringing Seonghwa lunch that one time to feed his friends too. It was frustrating that his best friend was not yet aware of the necessity to make the final move and make things official. For a doctor he was unbelievably thick in matters of love, or was a classicist and was afraid of rejection.

“You know…” Hongjoong began as they were approaching the elevators, “I think you really need to seal the deal, Hwa. Time goes by fast, and it is unfair to both of you if you don’t neither time nor the feelings you obviously have.”

Seonghwa expected that this conversation would happen at some point. His friend knew him too well. Maybe even caught him looking at your pictures that he had saved on his phone in a separate album of his gallery. He took a deep breath and shrugged, pressing the button to call the lift.

“True, but at the same time, things are going so well right now and-”

“Hate to rain on your parade, buddy, but that is how you messed up with your first girlfriend. And your second… oh wait a minute, even the blind date I set you up on did not work out, guess why?”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Fine.”

“No, you ‘don’t got it’. I can see you are scared. But you know why? Because you are being given a chance by the universe to hold onto something so precious and fragile that you know you cannot be the same without. But your self-doubt and anxieties wake up and torment you, day in day out, saying that you cannot step up and be responsible and commit.”

Seonghwa fell quiet, all attention on the painful monologue that was cutting up his psyche into small pieces, arranging it into a clearer bigger picture that he was trying to hide from himself.

“Take this, if you were not ready to step up, you wouldn’t have her as your emergency contact – don’t ask how I know. And, and you sure as hell would not be rushing home after a day shift just to make it to the bakery she likes. You would not be so worried for her even if everything was okay and you would not drop everything just to help her. You, my friend, are denying what is so blatantly obvious and is right in front of you that I seriously want you to call ophthalmology.”

“I swear, it is almost as if I was the one who called you for a life consult.” Seonghwa retorted as they watched the numbers blink in ascending order.

“See how lucky you are? Doctor Kim is blessing you with love wisdom for free.”

“Yeah… yeah… And I am trying my best to apply it.” If only destiny was so kind so as to give him an opportunity to just… get the awkward stuff over with and be able to wrap you in his arms – he was getting ahead of himself. Again. Seonghwa ran a hand through his hair. Way to go, declaring to another doctor he was ‘self-soothing’. He cleared his throat and decided to fully switch topic.

“Now, oh wise one, what troubles did you wish to talk to me about?”

“Oh, okay, so there is this one patient, complaining of episodes where their surroundings start spinning uncontrollably and they get a splitting headache and waves of nausea-”

“Vertigo?”

“Exactly, care to check it out?”

“Sure, lead the way.”

They ambled onwards, having fully moved on from conversing about you, however Seonghwa was still clouded over, pondering what you were up to. He was meant to have a full day off soon, and his infatuated self was inclined to conjure up plans exclusively involving you. But first, this patient…

You had not moved much in the time of Hongjoong’s and Seonghwa’s chat, nor for the two hours after that. Having found the perfect position in your chair, you were an unstoppable force, bashing out page after page of innovation for a re-branding that a late-stage start-up had requested. Their market focus reminded you of Seonghwa. Neuro-something or other. Maybe you should show him a sneak peek of one of your designs, just to see what the impact would be, though the non-disclosure agreement was hanging right above you like a guillotine. Yet another cause for your having been accustomed to asking well-crafted questions about your neighbour’s day – patient confidentiality was not too far off, style-wise. Like serif and sans serif fonts. Or two font families that could be mish-mashed together and no one would mind.

It was obvious that you had spent far too long doing some ‘font shopping’, as you liked to call it. Another hour, to be exact. However, you pushed the initial wave of guilt away pretty quickly, reminding yourself that, thankfully, this, too was part of your job. You yawned and stretched, taking a look at the time.

“Right, time for a snack!” you exclaimed out loud, and with a huff pushed yourself to your feet.

It was already getting dark outside, and temperatures were dropping in true autumn fashion, so after much deliberation you settled for a decaffeinated latte and a yogurt you found in your fridge. You moved to your sofa and turned on some random drama to play in the background while you zoned out scrolling for inspiration on your phone. After not finding anything too impressive but liking things for the sake of it, you clicked on your own profile to reminisce on the memories you captured. Funny how more and more of them appeared to involve the doctor next door.

After you proudly deleted any traces of your ex from social media, you vowed to be careful about the people you included in photos. So, none actually revealed the identity of be it a shadow or an extra mug or the holder of a ticket, but for you each scene was crystal clear, and replayed with ease. There was the picture Seonghwa had taken during your ‘supposed to be spontaneous but was planned weeks in advance’ getaway to Daejeon – you looking particularly cute while scrutinising an exhibit at the museum of art. There was the snapshot from one of your late-night trips to the convenience store, when you two were snuggled in oversized hoodies, sprawled on plastic chairs. And one of a completed Lego build, completed in three hours, mainly with you observing and searching for any stray piece that had gone flying across your neighbour’s living room.

You were also glad for the time you had to move on. You had a problematic relationship previously, you had to admit, and rushing into anything more would have had you repeating patterns you did not want to remember. Yet now, all you were hoping for was for a new chapter. An evolution of what you had been cultivating. Your instincts were telling you that you and Seonghwa were approaching a sort of crossroads, or a breaking point, and depending on what decisions you two would make, your future could be rewritten, and the world around the apartment complex either bloom or wither.

It was not that complicated a conclusion to reach – your ex had been bothering you incessantly with messages, voicemails and even direct messaging on social media, leading you to block him almost everywhere. He was going through the usual routine of pretending to care for your wellbeing, demanding attention and then on a night when he was probably shitfaced, saying he loved you and then proceeding to call you a whore. Prince charming indeed. You were disgusted that you had ever associated yourself with that sorry excuse for a man.

Tonight was no different. After deciding to post a ‘throwback’ story, he was back. It had been months since you last shared a full conversation, and it appeared that he was more communicative than ever. Was this what the memes you had seen online were talking about, where two people in a breakup often had radically different grief processing schedules? You were tired. You wanted to forget what and who you had moved away from. You wanted to build your new home in peace, and here was a ghost, howling and wishing to haunt you.

[do not answer!!] hey

[do not answer!!!] I know you are seeing this, you have read receipts on

[do not answer!!!] Y/N… come on I just want to talk things through

[do not answer!!!] I don’t think we have ever really had a chance to go over things

[do not answer!!!] you know, understand each other’s perspectives

[do not answer!!!] Y/N! seriously give me a chance I want to just TALK

[do not answer!!!] anyways, I am on my way to your place so… I guess talk soon?

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officialgleamstar · 10 months

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MNMOMS??? 👀👀👀👀👀

hmmmm I’d like to know more about the relationship between the moms and their kids maybe? if you havent answered that already?

oh or anything about the relationship between any of the moms

really just anything about mnmoms, im obsessed GSHSHSHGSHEH

HIII LEX!! oogh. relationships between the moms and their kids... i think ive mostly only talked about morgan and nick/nicholas, on tumblr at least, so i can definitely get more into that :D

morgan and nick... well-trod ground. morgan is severely paranoid and over-protective of nick, while nick is severely clingy but also has to pick a fight with everything she say, etc etc. i havent spoken as much about morgan's relationship with nicholas i dont think beyond establishing that she loves him and that hes a total mama's boy gbhjfdhjbj so i can talk about that!! though shes more well-managed by the time he is present, morgan is still very protective of nicholas, helped by the fact that he is the most high-strung kid on the planet. hes very jumpy whenever jodie isnt around, seeing him as his main source of safety, and hes also like... pretty aware of morgan's conflicted feelings on him? nicholas is exactly what morgan always wanted nick to be, well-behaved and careful, and it just makes her so much more aware of everything she lost. nicholas knows he is loved, and morgan does love nicholas, but hes also very aware of... well, his mom is different to him now, too. he can understand that he is just as foreign to her, hes a smart kid. they love each other very much, and honestly, morgan's relationship with nicholas is a lot healthier than it was with nick, but theyre both overly aware of the elephant in the room.

carol and grant probably have the most consistently positive mother/son relationship throughout the entirety of mnmoms, besides mercedes and lark at least! however, this... isnt for good reasons LMAO. pre-forgotten realms, carol generally wasnt home much, preferring to work herself to death at her office job. so grant literally prefers her to darryl just because she was never the one around to get mad at, she was never trying to talk to him, he didnt have to worry about helping her with chores because she didnt do housework, etc. they love each other very much, but once they get to the forgotten realms, carol becomes very aware that she cannot remember the last time she had a proper conversation with her son. just, no comprehension of whats going on in his life at the moment. its BAD, yall, but the two never really question their love for each other, which cant be said for all the kids. ive talked about this before, but they do have a plot of bonding over their sexuality journeys, carol works really harden to soften her sharp edges for her son and to be more present in his life, and they come out of the forgotten realms in a much better place than they went in! (though, take this with a grain of salt, because its definitely the same way that darryl and grant came out better in canon. this does not mean that they werent both traumatized LOL)

samantha and terry junior... start off the worst, for sure :') i have talked about their relationship before but it was part of a longer ramble about sammy, so i will reiterate it here! samantha has a bad habit of going therapy mode on terry junior and he is very aware of it. she is of the opinion that she should not put her emotions on her son at all, because she is his mother and thats not his responsibility (which actually stems a lot from samantha's relationship with her own mom but i think im gonna get into that more for isadora's ask--). however, terry takes her facade of calm as her being utterly in denial about terry senior dying at all, and he cant understand why she wont even show that shes upset. this already puts their relationship in a tenuous space over a few years, and when samantha starts dating and then marries ron, terry's trust in her is. utterly obliterated. at the end of their time in the forgotten realms, like with ron, they arguably have the best relationship though! samantha learns how to show her emotions without having terry junior feel obligated to help her and does her best to be more vulnerable with him in general, and terry junior learns how to accept that his mom is allowed to have a life beyond his biological dad. they make me so fjhbghjbghj <3333

and okay. right. finally. haunted expression. mercedes and the twins.

firstly, mercedes and lark. consistently a good relationship! they have the typical oak-garcia issue of lark running all over her, not really treating her as an authority figure, but its obvious that he absolutely adores her and that she adores him in turn. this is helped by the fact that mercedes is definitely the "fun" parent - glenn parallels, lol - so she has even less control over the twins than henry did, mostly because she never thinks to exert any. still, even though lark and sparrow are absolute agents of chaos, they love their mom and lark never stops loving their mom. by the end of their journey, he's a little more distant from mercedes out of guilt, mostly. lark is still the one to stab henry in this au without any of the deep rooted rogue card anger to validate it for himself, and he has a very hard time looking either of his parents in the eye afterwards. however, he also considers them both his main source of comfort, and tends to trail them quietly around the house when hes upset.

mercedes and sparrow. haunted expression intensifies. "Is there anything as undoing as a daughter?" sorry for quoting arcane but LITERALLY MERCEDES QUOTE OF ALL TIME. it starts... the same as mercedes and lark: no sense of authority, but very positive emotions! sparrow is not out as transfem at the beginning of their journey, its still something she is working out throughout their time in the forgotten realms (she very much has a moment of like... "i'm in a new place where nobody knows me, so i'm going to pretend to be a girl and see how many people are fooled! that's a very normal thing for boys to do!" and lark plays along lol), and a lot of their time pre-rogue card is dedicated to that! mercedes and sparrow bond a lot as sparrow warms up to the idea of coming out as trans, and mercedes. well. mercedes already knew before going into the realms and has been reading a million different pamphlets and consulting advice columns and talking to morgan on how to perfectly handle this situation LOL. so their relationship is kind of perfect, actually, and they are doing really really well until the deck of many things comes into play :')

post deck of many things, sparrow is... very openly Not A Fan Of Mercedes. she is still the upbeat positive lovewolf twin in this (though i think she more wants to generally be a witch than a lovewolf, since her mama's a bard and not a druid!), so it is even more obvious when sparrow suddenly is not giving mercedes the time of day. sparrow is utterly convinced that she is destined for greater things in a very negative way, and blames her discovery of this on mercedes getting them stuck in the forgotten realms. she also, similar to lark in canon, blames the moms as a whole for the fact that walter was hurt and sees them widely as useless. mercedes, for her part, does everything she can to redeem herself to sparrow, and is endlessly frustrated by the fact that nothing she does works. post-forgotten realms, they argue pretty relentlessly, sparrow locks herself in her room and screams herself hoarse, mercedes storms out into the back garden and cries until she gets a migraine, and henry takes lark out for ice cream-- despite this, sparrow does still seek out a lot of comfort from mercedes, and she has a habit of casually finding herself, at night, in wolf form and curled up at the foot of her parents' bed. strange and so weird how she ends up specifically sprawled out across her mom's feet at least once a week, if not fully laying between her parents. crazy. what a coincidence. shes a fully independent child with no need for comfort for sure though

#every time i talk about mercedes and sparrow i feel like my mommy issues are showing LMAO #SUCH A FUN QUESTION THANK U LEX #mnmoms au #ask #lex the lesbiann #dndads

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ambersky0319 · 4 months

Text

I am feeling

Conflicted

Ramblings below cut

So I got an email from an old friend a little over a week ago that I only just now saw because I haven't really been checking that email much (I've slowly been changing accounts for things to a different one and so I. Don't really need to check this one much)

Except the old friend is from the best friend who I drifted away from once we started high school (specifically once quarantine hit) cause like. While we were on the same campus we were in different schools so schedules didn't align, and there wasn't many ways we could talk bc after quarantine she didn't have a phone (her choice, totally valid) and I didn't really do casual emails w friends (too formal for me, + I used to only check my email like. Once a day) so like. We didn't really communicate

And then she went and told my sib that no one (not even me) cares about them (granted, I don't have the friend's side, but I know my sib and they were going through a shitty mental health period AND admitted they were scared to tell me about the incident. And, I knew my friend. Sib and I didn't have the best relationship, and she was my best friend during that time, and used to make fun of sib a lot when she came over or sib was just generally around. She was not, however, around when sib and I's relationship improved. So I wouldn't put it past her to say something like that to my sib.)

So. I was pissed. And just didn't contact her, even when her mom reached out to my grandma (I was never more glad that my cousin was graduating the same day as her, so I had an excuse to miss her graduation)

Keep in mind, as far as I know, she still considered us friends? I think? I remember her introducing me to her other friends as her best friend but like. Most of the time the last time we had exchanged ANY words had been? Months apart???

So I wasn't really considering her among my friends much at the time. And the last time I remember speaking with her, I was with a different friend, and I just felt. Weird about it. Like the way she talked, it reminded me so much of like, how we were in middle school? Except. I had definitely changed a lot since then, so it felt. Really off.

So that confused me.

ANYWAYS

Back to the email. I have a bit of a reply typed up, but I'm conflicted about sending it

So I'm gonna ramble about my thoughts on what she said in hers

It was pretty short, so I'll go in order of what was mentioned

Condolences for my mom's death

I'll be real, I forgot my mom died. I'm pretty sure I had been saying she was dead LONG before that, for no other reason than I thought she had already died. Either way, I genuinely hadn't cared.

She even says she knows we didn't have a good relationship (yeah, no contact with an abusive parent is definitely just a "not good" relationship, one which she WAS around for the aftermath of because! We became friends about a year after I had left that house!) but that it probably still stings, and that she's here for me if I wanna talk

Also she says "them" so I'm assuming she might also be including my dad in that sentence but? Idk???

Either way idk how to feel about this point.

"I know I haven't really been a good friend or best friend"

I mean, neither have I technically? But I genuinely didn't realize she still even considered us friends after like most of our time in high school not talking. Junior year we MAYBE talked for like. 3 minutes at a time

And like. With online friends? The time passed for me to stop considering them friends is MUCH longer than irl friends. Idk why that is for me, but it just is.

So like. She was an acquaintance at most to me at this point. Maybe I should have made more of an effort, but I'll be honest, I just. Didn't want to

Anyway this was followed by saying she hasn't been doing well the past couple of years and like. I feel for her. The last couple years haven't been easy on me either. Glad she's doing better now

I'm also kinda assuming that this part was an apology. But it's more like. An acknowledgement? Like there's no actual apology for not really being a friend or anything?

Still surprised she's sent me an email

Compliments the fan reference project she's seen on my insta

She has never interacted, afaik, with my insta account. She says she doesn't use it herself but checked out my account through her mom's account

Never really reached out to me there or anything either. And like, that's fine. But idk. I just felt a little weird about that. Not about using her mom's account, not even checking out my account. But like. I kinda got whiplash? Because the email was more serious before this and like, cool she likes my art, cool she's still doing art, but why mention it? In an email where you talk about family deaths and mental health???

Idk. Maybe a way to try reconnecting? Find some common ground?

Mentions her own personal loss then well-wishes

This is the main reason I'm conflicted about replying

Because I saw who this email was from in my inbox. And frankly, I was tempted to not read it. I was tempted to just clear it out because I was clearing out my inbox for the first time in weeks

But I decided, what the heck, why not? Because I haven't spoken to her since probably early 2023, if that, and I was curious about what she could have possibly emailed me about

And like. I could just delete it. Move on with my life and forget about it. Ignore the email entirely and not respond

But. That feels pretty shitty? Especially since her mom and my grandma are still in contact? (maybe??? Idk I asked my grandma to just not mention my friend or her mom to me)

So like. I have a reply written up.

I explained how I felt about my mom's death, because frankly I don't want people thinking I cared about her. I apologized for not being a good friend either. And sending my condolences for her loss. Wishing her and her family the best.

The thing is. I'm. Hesitating to send it

Because she started off the email by saying she'll be getting a new phone and number soon, and will be sending me it once she gets it. And the thing is. I don't? Really know if I want that?

Like. Part of me wants to talk again. If only to see if she's changed, and to hear what she has to say about what she told my sibling. Maybe reconnect, depending on the outcome. Because she was my best friend for four years and this is also a clear attempt to try connecting again on her part, and I'd feel bad not at least, idk, getting closure on the relationship?

Part of me though, just kinda. Doesn't want to even try reconnecting. Just. Leave that era of my life behind (with her along with it).

So. I'm not commenting on that in my email.

I'll. Probably send the email. Mostly to share my condolences. I don't plan on saying I'm here if she wants to talk, that would be unfair to her. We aren't close anymore, I was barely able to be there for my sib when our mom died (because they WERE affected by her death) and the fact that I genuinely don't know if I'd even want to reconnect... It's selfish on my part I think, but I really wouldn't want to make false promises about something that serious

Anyways

This ended up longer than I was expecting it to be

#amber's shit you can ignore

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miloo-o · 9 months

Text

Agust D D-Day Final Concert

August 6th, 2023 marked as the last day of Agust D D-Day Final Concert in Seoul at KSPO Dome. Which is also mean that the tour is finally ended.

This concert tour was a part of the D-Day album promotion. Jakarta was one of the destination. I will proudly say that I am one of the crowd in Jakarta, on day 3 for exactly. Since they mentioned that this album gonna be the conclude of the Agust D trilogy. So I thought maybe there's no more Agust D. And yeah, during interview he explained that he don't want to make music as Agust D anymore, he want to grow more soft as a human. But if it's necessary, he will brought him back. And I thought that now is their enlistment era so I have to see them, at least one of them before they go.

I've never been happier than ever. I never feel so excited about something in my life that it make my heart pumping so hard and I can barely sleep on the day before I go to Jakarta. I still can feel about how I feeling that day. I prepared my outfit a long time before the ticketing, I put more attention to my makeup, I mean the proper makeup, like foundation, shade, eyeshadow, blush, etc. I'm not good at doing makeup but I just know that there's something that boost my confidence that day. I feel pretty and I can wear anything I want without worry about judgetment. I have an ugly belly fat but I wear my croptop because I want to. I just so happy at the time. And also I was surrounding by people like me ! The people who have the same kind of love towards BTS and their music. And I'm pretty sure they can understand why I fight so hard to be able to attend the concert. Such a good memories.

So about the final concert. They provide the online streaming so I watch it on Hypera 😂. I watch all 3 days concert. I expect for Tony Montana stage but they gave more than I expected. They had Jungkook featuring on Burn It. I was totally shook. Then he sang Seven. On the 2nd day they had Jimin. Yes Thee Tony Montana stage finally happened again after 7 years. And then he performed Like Crazy. And finally on the last day. People call him the final boss and I couldn't agree more. They performed Strange. The timeline thought it's funny because their vibe was totally different.

Namjoon just shaved his hair by the way. He made a klarification again that it doing nothing about his enlistment. My man just can not stand the hot weather. Look at him🥺. Those dimples, those pretty eyesmile, the joonose, and my favorite smile. I love him so much that my chest hurt 😭.

And then he performed his new unrelease song. We thought he's going to performed Wild Flower tho. Idk what was the song name. The music is so beautiful. Kinda like a lullaby. It's so comforting. Idk what's the song about but there's this certain lyric that hit me. "I forgot about the hour, I forgot to shower." I feel so targeted because I rarely do the shower sometimes. I forgot about the hour and it's already midnight and I end up dont take a shower. I do something or go somewhere just to find a reason to shower. I don't know what happened that it's so hard to get up from my mattress. I see someone on Twitter said that this song is for the girl with mental illness. But I still don't understand what exactly the song is about until Namjoon himself give some explanation.

Seokjin and Hobi is was there too. I miss them so much 😭

Next is the heart wrenching songs. He performed Snooze, Dear My Friend, and Amygdala back to back. Putting this song together should be illegal. Maybe since it's the last concert so he's getting more emotional. He started crying during Snooze 😭. I thought maybe he talk to the old him. Because this song is for his juniors in Kpop Industry so he understand how hard it was. He can relate too. And of course I cried too 😭💔. Next song, Dear My Friend. He made this song for his bestfriend that is sadly no longer with him. Damn it I started crying now. Looking at Yoongi sobbing but still manage to performed is so heartbreaking 🥺. People say that bestfriend breakup is the worst. It is. I wish that friend of Yoongi doing well now. Thank you for being there for Yoongi on his hardtimes. The next is Amygdala. This song never fail to hurt me. The intro music itself is already hurtful.

After a VCR it's finally encore time. Began with D-Day and after that he introduce the crew of the concert. They had additional member to introduce, Elcapitaxn as DJ, Adora and June as back vocal. When it come to Elcapitaxn turn, they turned the whole stadium into a night club. I love it so much that I got it screenrecorded. Sadly the other BTS member already left after Amygdala so they can't experience it :(. And then FINALLY !! After day after day, week after week, month after month, he finally reveal his 7 tattoo ! It's on his left shoulder, where he got the surgery because of that accident. We can clearly see the stitch scars.

He said what's so important about the tattoo? Like he don't tease us by keep hiding his tattoo meanwhile the rest of BTS member reveal it already.

The show is come to the very end. There're only Nevermind and The Last that left from the setlist. I tried so hard to memorize the Nevermind lyrics so I can sing and shout it out with Yoongi word after word but I forgot all of it once I'm inside the venue 😭.

The last song is The Last. The song that I anticipated the most. One of the reason why I have to went to his concert. Basicly this song is about how he overcome his trauma and mental illness, that he's totally fine now, that he became stronger. That line that said "My fans, keep your head high with pride. Because who can do it like me uh." It send chills and got my eyes teary everytime I listen to the song. I want to see him on stage shouting that words. The Last is the last track from his 1st mixtape, Agust D. It was released on 2016 when he was 23 y.o, 2 years younger than me now. He said that at the young age. But I have to witness the new version of him shouting that words. We know that he became stronger now. I'm so proud of him 🥺. After the last song, they show a short VCR, cut from his MVs. And then they show the Amygdala MV scene when Agust D walk towards a door. The VCR ended. The light turnsd on again. Yoongi walk around the stage, waving at,the audience and thanking them nonstop. Finally he's back on stage, bowing for the last time and then walk towards the door behind him. He turn around once again, gave us the most sweet and warm smile, waving, thanking again, and finally he closed the door 🥺. And then the screen show this words, "Future's gonna be okay" 💜

The fact that the tour is really ended finally hit me. There's no more concert content. Min Yoongi finally can leave the Agust D behind with all the pain, rage, upset. That's all about self acceptence. Everyone really having so much fun during the concert. Jump around, screaming, crying, swearing, laughing. We share these together. It so sad. I'm crying right now😭. But it doesn't make sense that he would touring forever hahahaa. It's really the end. He finally can take a rest today and start the life as he want it to be. Go ahead Min Yoongi. We'll be your forever audience to support everything you do. Your work and art as Agust D, SUGA, or Min Yoongi give such strength and motivation for us. This post is such a mess with my broken English but I just write whatever that come to my mind 😁.

민윤기 사랑해요 🫶 그리고 너무 감사해요 💜

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capncassas · 1 year

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JOL: CHAPTER ONE

“Hayley, what in God’s name is all this about?”

Janice is staring at me like I’ve come home from school with two heads. Shit, for all I know, I probably have.

What was I thinking?

“What the crap was I thinking!?” I’m in my sisters closet, I can’t go through my moms. Good God, no. But Janice? Yes, Janice will have the solution buried somewhere in the back of her well stocked closet. She has casual, she has professional, and she has, fuck me my body is ready.

But is my body ready? It feels like my heart is going to suddenly stop ticking and then explode out of my chest like that monster in the Alien movie.

“What were you thinking, what? When? Where? I am so confused.” Janice said, suddenly taking my shoulders and dragging me away from her closet to turn me to face her. “Hay… stop. Tell me what this is all about because otherwise, I have no idea how to help you.”

It all started during free period. I had thirty minutes of free time before my next class so, per usual, I was spending that time in the library. The Hawkins school library isn’t the liveliest place, it’s usually frequented by the usual suspects. Me, the chess club sometimes takes up a table in the back for a quick game between classes, then there are the avid studiers, which I am a card carrying member. I know this is my last year and I haven’t decided what I want to do after highschool. I haven’t even started applying to colleges.

I know, I know!

It’s not even a good enough excuse that my parents can pretty much buy my way into any college in the country — but I don’t even know if I want to stay in the country. Sometimes, I think about traveling, seeing the world before I lock myself in doors for another four years of higher education.

But today, the usual hushed tone of the library is — disturbed. As I’m walking through the stacks to the back of the library I can hear hushed whispers. Female by the sounds of it, and the seductive low tones of — fuck.

What was Billy Hargove doing in the library?

This was basically the one place in the entire school where I could totally relax because there wasn’t a blizzard's chance in hell that he would be caught dead in the school library.

So, obviously, like any good junior detective, I wanted to know what he was doing here.

“Isn’t Shakespear so romantic?” Kourtney Southerland’s voice was like that dewy breathlessness I’ve always heard in movies but never in real life.

Oh, she was pouring it on so thick.

My happy ass was lurking — I’m not ashamed to admit that. But lucky for me, the classic literature portion of the library is housed in two rows against the back wall of the library.

I’d seen Billy in English Lit. He never looked at me, but I glanced at him. Somehow the two of us chose seats in the rear so there was me, Kaye Mooning, Jennifer Holcomb, and then Billy Hargrov next to the window. He usually spent most of the class looking outside.

I wasn’t even sure why Kourtney was here, she didn’t have English lit during the second period… but then, I did know why she was here. The same reason every girl was seated around that table. Billy.

To give them some credit, Samantha Tuttle’s boyfriend Alex was there too, but he actually looked like he was studying. And also maybe guarding Sam from Mr. Steal Your Girl.

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name;

Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Samantha had a phenomenal grasp of Shakespear, we’d partnered as study buddies last year so hearing her lilting voice recite probably one of the most famous romance quotes of all time was breathtaking. Even if I was eavesdropping.

“I think I’d understand this more if it were in Spanish.” Billy’s voice drifted on a whisper to my ears.

Whether he meant for anyone else to hear or not, I didn’t know. I was listening with my back to them.

“The Elizabethan language is sort of like Spanish until you get used to it.” I said, biting my tongue the instant the words escaped my lips. I swear to God, sometimes I think there is a disconnect between my brain and my mouth.

The silence and rustling of fabric from behind my back told me there were eyes trained on me.

“You understand this?”

Jesusfuck. It was him.

Holding a copy of Yeats in my hand, I turned slightly, giving him a brief nod before sliding the book back into its place, ready to move on from this embarrassing interlude in my regular routine.

“What’s it mean, then?”

Billy had his arm slung over the back of a straight back chair, his copy of Romeo and Juliet in his hand, his thumb holding his place.

With a full table of eyes staring at me, including Sam, Alex, Kourtney and Jennifer, I stared back in defiance. I was not going to be cowed into submission by the likes of people that I knew didn’t like me based purely on a teenage higherarchy. My parents might have made just as much money as there, but I was not fool enough to believe any amount of money accepted me within their ranks.

“It means,” I cleared my throat, “Juliet is basically asking, are you Romeo, a Montigue — deny your identity, but if you won’t I will still love you and I will deny my family and run away with you. She’s telling him she will throw it all away to be with him, her family, the Capulet’s, sworn enemy.”

I shrugged a bit while I watched a few people, namely Alex flick back a few pages to re-read the quote before his eyes looked at Samantha for confirmation.

Thank my lucky stars the bell rang and everyone had to get out of their seats to go to their next class. Mine was Calculus so I still have another twenty minutes in my break.

I turned, making my way to a set of seats near the window that was quiet and dumped my backpack on the table making it pretty apparent I didn’t want a partner as I sat down. That wasn’t so bad — it wasn’t like the time Molly Harrison did a complete nose dive during dodgeball and broke her nose. I could live without being escorted to the nurses station with all the blood in my head dripping down my face in front of the entire school.

Her eyes were black for two weeks.

“So? That’s all?” Janice asked after I finished explaining — but that was only Act 1 of the play which would lead to me ultimate demise.

“No… he found me. Billy followed me right up to my table and asked me if I would tutore him and I said sure, come over tonight — AND NOW HE’S COMING OVER TONIGHT!”

That was my dilemma, why couldn’t Janice see that? The guy every girl in my entire school wanted was coming over in an hour to learn Shakespear.

Janice’s eyes softened while her hands squeezed my shoulders.

“Then it’s that simple, he comes over, you study. That’s it. You don’t need a whole wardrobe change for that, just wear what you’re wearing now.”

I couldn’t believe it. It was so simple it might just work. It wasn’t like Billy Hargrove had any interest in me other than passing English lit. I felt all the steam evaporate like someone popped the valve on a pressure cooker.

“Just treat him like anyone else, it’s not a big deal.”

Heh… Janice hadn’t seen Billy Harvgrove, he was definitely a big deal but now that I wasn’t worried about looking like the proverbial Snack…I felt a different kind of anxiety.

He didn’t want me. I was just a one way ticket to an A in Mr. Longwood’s class…and that felt even worse than the prospect of making a fool of myself trying to flirt.

<<PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT>>

#Just One Look [BILLY HARGROVE]#Billy Hargrove #AU!Billy Hargrove #AU!Stranger Things #Stranger Things #Stranger Things Fanfiction #Billy Hargrove Fanfiction

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emeren · 3 years

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speed racer- eren jaeger

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader

word count: 6k

content warnings: nsfw, smut, 18+, smoking, degradation, overstimulation, breeding (w/o baby talk)

notes: 100% inspired by the official art, like mmm yes please. also i know absolutely nothing about how car racing works, but that’s not important. this is unedited because my brain turned to mush writing it. enjoy!! <3

SUMMARY: eren’s a semi-professional car racer, who has a tumultuous friendship with the reader. after losing a race, eren sets out to win something else in his life, much to the reader’s surprise.

“took you long enough!” sasha called out, holding her hand above her eyes in an attempt to block out the bright sun. you dished her a smile, weaving your way through the throngs of people in the stands, attempting not to step on anyone. your eyes briefly flitted to the track, the assistants distantly getting their cars ready. they were hardly visible from here; merely faceless figures idling around. you heaved out a sigh as you reached sasha, the brunette gingerly patting the spot next to her.

“you couldn’t have gotten better seats, sash?” you asked as you sat down, pushing your sunglasses on top of your head. sasha waved her large bag of popcorn in front of your face, an exasperated expression on her features.

“the line was long, and what’s a race without popcorn?” she grinned, offering you the bag. you rolled your eyes but took a fistful of the bright yellow snack nonetheless. “plus, if you really wanted that good of seats, you would’ve come early yourself.”

“i did come here early,” you retorted, your voice muffled by the popcorn. sasha raised a questioning brow, her elbow nudging you in the side.

“getting here early just so you can poke around the racer’s quarters is not the same thing,” she singsonged, a girlish smirk on her face. you scoffed, turning away from her as you felt heat race to your cheeks. “c’mon, everyone knows you and eren are totally into each other. i don’t understand why you guys don’t just go for it.”

“i wasn’t poking around, and i am not into eren,” you said, shifting uncomfortably as the words left your mouth. it was true, to some degree. the two of you had been friends in high school, back when eren was just some skinny kid with anger issues. now he was a semi-professional racer, and the rivalry between the two of you was palpable, to say the least.

you’d been in the same friend group and for some reason eren just loved to pick on you whenever he got the chance. you suspected it had something to do with his repressed daddy issues or whatever, and he’d known mikasa and armin far too long to be so catty with them. initially they were just playful taunts, but as you got older, they started to become more personal. with age came your own unchecked need to banter and argue with him.

somewhere along the way the arguments turned to sexual tension. a sexual tension that for the most part, the two of you were happy to ignore. it allowed room for a more sassy friendship, at least.

“uh huh, suuure,” sasha responded, seemingly unconvinced. she must’ve sensed your discomfort, deciding to change the topic. “who’s who?”

your eyes traced the track, analyzing each vehicle. “armin’s in yellow, mikasa’s in red, eren’s in white, and i believe levi is in green.”

“levi’s racing? isn’t he getting a little old for that?” sasha laughed, squinting. you chuckled.

“it’s just a small fundraiser race, plus he’s a crowd favorite over here,” you explained. sasha nodded as she processed the information. the sun was hot, beating down on your back. “i’m honestly surprised this many people came out.”

sasha tossed more popcorn in her mouth, halfway done with the bag despite the race still not having started. she offered it to you again. “mhm, this is the same type of crowd that we’d see in the underground.”

you thought back to your days of attending the illegal races, late at night and under the cover of darkness. though you were just a junior in college, it felt like those nights freshman year had been decades ago. that was before eren showed real promise in the professional circuit. it was also where levi scouted him out to be his successor.

as if on cue, you could see the figures of the racers emerging from the port, each headed for their respective cars. you couldn’t help the way your gaze immediately followed the tall, brown haired racer adorned in his white racing jacket, checkers on the side. the crowd erupted into cheers at the sight of the all the racers, one from each color of the rainbow. eren walked with a certain confidence, his adamant determination being one of the only things that followed him from high school.

though you couldn’t clearly see his face from where you sat, you knew he was smiling. eren had always loved the adrenaline rush before a race.

“alright ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to the annual shiganshina fundraiser race!” the reporter boomed over the intercom. sasha squealed in her seat, excitedly gripping your arm and pointing towards your friends. you felt a mix of excited nervousness waft over you, giggling along with her. “today we’ve got racers from all over the circuit, and each one has volunteered their precious time for the cause. can we get a round of applause?”

the crowd erupted in yet another ear deafening round of applause as the announcer read off the names of each of the racers. you and sasha made sure to scream your loudest when armin, mikasa, and eren’s names were read off.

you hoped they knew it was you, your throat scratchy as you sat back down. there was no need to be loud for levi; the entire crowd went absolutely feral at the mention of his name.

the announcer read off the conditions of the race, as well as the reasoning for the fundraiser itself. you and sasha chatted quietly about the after party while the racers put their helmets on and got in their cars. before too long, the announcer was gearing up for the start.

“alright everyone, we’re about to start. get yourselves ready.”

you and sasha stood, hollering and cheering for your friends as the cars all lined up. you knew you’d be happy if any of them crossed the finish line first, but it was undeniable that it would be eren. it wasn’t armin or mikasa’s passion like it was eren’s; they viewed it more as as fun hobby. nevertheless, you dreaded how smug eren would be once he added another win to his already growing list. he really was a bastard sometimes.

“racers ready your cars. 3... 2... 1... go!”

they were off, levi’s green car easily settling into first place, cruising past the other cars as he whipped around the first curve. you held your breath, eyes scanning the other cars placements. eren was in fourth, armin in fifth, and mikasa in second. sasha yelled sporadically, reaching out and squeezing your wrist tightly.

as they rounded the circuit for the second time, eren passed the third place racer, coming up behind mikasa’s red car. you held your breath. “c’mon eren...”

“shit! he passed her!” sasha screeched, jumping up and down. you smiled as he whipped the corner, nearly cutting the edge of the median.

“levi is still so far ahead,” you commented, trying to pry sasha’s death grip from your wrist. your eyes glanced to the clock, realizing that the race was near its finish. levi was cutting the third corner and eren was quickly gaining on him.

“looks like it’s gonna be clo-” sasha’s voice was cut off as a large man tripped over the bleacher behind you, effectively shoving you into her side. “shit, the popcorn!”

you regained your balance, giving the man behind you a dirty glare as you turned to sasha. she frowned at the popcorn that’d been spilled all over the ground. “what a waste!”

looking back up at the track, the crowd broke into screams of excitement. you expected to see eren’s face on the big screen to the side as confetti streamed through the air, but were surprised to see levi’s unimpressed stare.

eren lost?

“you’ve gotta be shitting me,” sasha gaped, her face slack in shock. you shrugged, shaking the feeling of disappointment from your shoulders. serves him right.

people started to vacate the stands, shoving their way past you as you turned to sasha. “let’s go find connie and jean, sash.”

she nodded, still frowning. the two of you climbed down the steps, going against the flow of the crowd as you weaseled your way down onto the spectators path. you could see all of the racers shaking hands, congratulating each other. your mind briefly considered whether or not eren was going to be upset, but you decided not to dwell on it.

you watched as the racers disappeared into the tunnel, eren’s tall figure no longer in view. just then, connie and jean came walking out from the service booth, both wearing their maintenance coveralls.

sasha wildly waved her arm, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the remaining stragglers towards your friends.

“hey guys!” she smiled, the boys jogging to meet you halfway.

“why were you guys in such shit seats?” connie asked, skipping over a greeting. you let out a small laugh at sasha’s expense. she merely shrugged, turning to jean.

“we going to your place?” you questioned before she had the chance. jean nodded, adjusting the backwards baseball cap on his head.

“yeah, just gotta wrap some things up, then we can head out,” he replied. you grew happy at the thought of kicking back with your friends, enjoying a nice night of fun. parties at jean and connie’s place were always the best.

***************

“some race that was,” connie groaned, leaning back and bringing the beer bottle to his lips. so far it was just you, sasha, connie, jean, and a bunch of random drunk people who’d come from the track. sasha scoffed from her spot on the worn, brown couch.

“you could say that again,” she grumbled. “we didn’t even get to see levi cross the finish line ‘cause some guy rammed into us.”

jean looked at you from where he leaned against the wall, a bottle in his hand and his eyebrows raised. “wait, for real?”

“yeah,” you sighed, drinking whatever bitter liquid sasha had poured into your red solo cup. “didn’t even say sorry.”

“how many times do i have to tell you guys, just come work maintenance with jean-boy and i,” connie suggested, wrapping his arm around sasha’s shoulder and giving a squeeze. she rolled her eyes and shoved him off. “you guys would get to watch the race from the track itself.”

“i don’t know the first thing about cars,” sasha laughed, you nodding along with her.

“and you think we do? i just said that so we could get the best seats in the house,” connie snorted, taking another swig of his drink. you chuckled at his idiocy, unfazed by yet another one of their stupid stunts. “where’re the big racers anyway?”

“they should be here soon,” you responded, glancing out the window. jean was unironically blasting the fast and the furious soundtrack, something he’d done after every race for as long as you’d known him. by now the songs were ingrained in your brain.

“who wants to bet jaeger is in a pissy mood?” jean snorted as he moved to sit down on the arm of the chair you were planted in.

“when isn’t he?” you sneered. connie and sasha hummed in agreement. both you and jean loved nothing more than to push eren’s buttons. you knew jean’s motives stemmed from some boyish fun, whereas yours felt a little more personal.

the sound of clapping began to compete with the music, your neck craning to look past jean into the hallway. eren, armin, and mikasa came into view, people cheering them on and patting them on the back. they each wore their racing jackets over their street clothes.

you felt a familiar sensation burn in your stomach at the sight of eren. his dark hair was pulled back per usual, wispies framing his tan face. The white jacket stood out against his black t-shirt and black jeans; key necklace he always wore glinting against his chest. as your gaze travelled up from his body, you were startled to make contact with his teal eyes. you quickly glanced away in embarrassment.

“well, well, well,” jean cheered, raising his bottle to the trio. “how’d it feel to lose to a short, old man, eh jaeger?”

eren scowled, obviously peeved. “if i had to lose to anyone, i’m glad it was levi.”

connie snorted at that. “man, professional circuit has you soft.”

“whatever you say, baldie,” eren smirked mischievously as he came to sit down on the couch. connie defensively rubbed his head. “at least i’m making money in prof.”

“i still can’t believe you have people that actually want to sponsor you,” you snipped, a playful expression on your face. eren lazily looked towards you, the familiar irritation laced in his eyes.

“i’m sorry, what was that? i wasn’t listening to you,” eren retorted, looking as unbothered as ever. you glared at his words, but caught armin’s disapproving eye and decided to stay quiet.

as the night carried on, you watched your friends relax and reminisce about previous races and the days spent in the illegal ring. it seemed crazy that your life was so centered around car races, when you weren’t even a racer yourself. but you supposed you were just happy to be supporting your friends.

at some point you got up out of your chair to refill your cup. the large hoards of people had started to dance; the house feeling hot and humid as you shoved your way to the kitchen. luckily the room was empty, save for armin who was drinking water out of the kitchen tap.

“thirsty?” you asked, amused. his head snapped up, surprised by your voice. it took one look to tell he was absolutely trashed, face red and eyes half lidded. he smiled goofily and nodded his head before stumbling back out into the crowd of people.

you quickly filled your cup, following the direction armin had gone. as you stepped out of the kitchen, a body came out of nowhere and smacked into you.

eren jumped back, trying to avoid the liquid that sloshed out of your cup. “hey, watch it!” he hissed.

“you watch it, casanova,” you snapped, irritated by the sticky alcohol that dripped down your hand. eren’s eyes narrowed at the nickname, his arms defensively crossing his chest.

“i told you not to call me that,” he bit back, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. you rolled your eyes, instinctively bringing your hand to your mouth in an attempt to lick the drink off. eren watched you, his gaze clouded with an indiscernible emotion. you knew what you were doing.

“hm. too bad,” you quipped, dragging your tongue down the side of your hand, popping your pointer finger in your mouth. eren glowered at you as you let out a giggle. “see ya, loser.”

“whatever, brat,” he huffed, shaking the tension from his pants as you sauntered off into the crowd. he hated the effect you had on him.

you’d already decided not to get shit faced. while the rest of your friends had chosen otherwise, you danced alongside them, your resolve wearing thin much faster than theirs. jean and sasha bounced happily up and down, screaming the lyrics to whatever song it was blasting from the speakers. connie and mikasa were playing beer pong, and you had no clue where armin and eren had gone.

you heaved in a breath as a sharp pain shot through your side, signaling the end of your dancing career for the night. your two dance partners were too far gone to notice, waving goodbye to you as you stepped out of the sweaty crowd.

slipping your phone out of your pocket, your eyes nearly popped from your head at the time. two thirty?!

only slightly tipsy, you decided to find jean’s room and call it a night. he’d just have to sleep on the couch. with one hand dragging on the wall, you made your way through the house, past armin who was doing body shots with a couple of strangers, up the stairs and down the dark hall. it was quieter up here, but you could still hear the music and knew it’d be awhile till sleep visited you.

shoving jean’s door open, you were surprised to see none other than eren laid back on the bed, puffs of smoke coming from his mouth. the strong scent of weed hit your nostrils, nose scrunching up in reflex. he propped himself up on one arm upon your entrance, eyeing you.

“oh, sorry i’ll just- wait a minute,” you paused, narrowing your eyes at him. “you aren’t supposed to be smoking on your sponsorship.”

eren let out a loud laugh at that, more smoke spilling from his lungs. “thanks, mom. i know.”

you stood in the doorway, not really sure what to do. “jean’s gonna be mad if his room smells like weed tomorrow.”

“yeah, why do you think i chose to do it in here?” he leered, bringing the blunt to his lips and deeply inhaling, sharp cheekbones protruding with the action. you sucked in a breath, not wanting to acknowledge just how gorgeous he was. his jacket was off, black shirt tightly gripping his muscular yet slender arms as he propped himself up. he blew the smoke from his nostrils this time, making your face heat. “wanna hit?”

you sighed, weighing the options. jean’s bed was a lot more comfortable than connie’s. you could just wait till eren was done, and then pass out. “no, but i’ll wait with you till you’re done.”

“suit yourself, brat,” eren hummed, flopping back down on the bed as you shut the door behind yourself. you came to sit by him, looking down as he heaved in a sober breath. he really is beautiful, you thought.

your eyes scanned his face. “you really shouldn’t be smoking, you know. you could lose the sponsorship.”

eren rolled his teal eyes, giving you a side glance. “i’m aware. i’m also aware that you aren’t going to rat on me.”

“and what makes you so sure?” you asked playfully, your voice low. eren’s gaze shifted to you, placing the blunt between his lips as he sat up, face inches from yours.

“because. you can act like you hate me all you want,” smoke blew from his lips as he spoke, slowly inching his face closer to yours. you swallowed, eyes struggling to maintain contact with his dark stare. “but i know how badly you want me.”

you blinked, heart rate accelerating as he glanced at your lips. “speaking from experience?”

eren’s mouth quirked up in a smirk at your words. “something like that.”

you watched with desire as he brought the bud of the blunt up to his lips, deeply inhaling the toxic smoke. he lifted his free hand, pointer finger gently tracing your jaw as his thumb came up to caress your chin. he tapped softly against your face, as if asking you to open your mouth.

you weren’t sure what part of you was wanting to submit to his every move. maybe it was the alcohol. or maybe it was the accumulation of sexual tension. something told you it was a deeper itch that needed to be scratched. an itch only eren could reach.

you parted your lips, eyes fluttering as eren leaned forward and carefully brushed his own against yours, dumping his lungful of smoke into your mouth. you breathed it in, fighting the urge to cough and whine as he pulled away.

“good girl,” he breathed, leaning away to snuff the bud out on jean’s bedside table. you heaved out as much as you could, shocked by your own willingness. you were mainly surprised by how much you enjoyed whatever that was.

you stared at him expectantly as he turned back to you, a serious expression on his face. “eren.”

“yes?” he asked, leaning heavily on his arm, eyes unashamedly focused on your lips. his other hand came up again, lightly ghosting your jawline. you could feel yourself growing wet between your legs; the way eren was fucking you with his eyes sending an unwelcomed throb to your clit.

acting on impulse, you lurched forward, latching your lips onto eren’s slightly chapped ones. he wasted no time in kissing you back; hungrily pressing himself closer to your body. his lips were warm and tasted like weed and coca cola, his tongue wiggling its way into your mouth where you happily welcomed it.

you brought your hand up, wanting to run your fingers through his hair, but were stopped when they got caught in the bun. eren grunted, kissing you harder and bringing his own hand up to yank the tie from his locks, letting his soft hair fall to his shoulders.

your fingers were quick to glide through the brown strands, scratching his scalp in the process. some throaty sound emitted from his chest, the noise making your cunt ache in need. how is he so hot?

eren’s hands came to your waist, roughly shoving you down onto the bed, so that he hovered above you. your lips continued to meld together, saliva coated mouths wetly intertwined. you removed your hand from his hair, bringing both hands to run down the expanse of his arms that were on either side of your head. you squeezed his biceps, surprised when he suddenly pulled away.

“is this okay?” he panted, breaths labored. his pupils were dilated, all seriousness behind his gaze. you nodded your head without hesitation, practically begging him to continue. “words.”

“yes, yes. i want this just as much as you do,” you responded. eren smirked from above you, his dark hair swirling around his face as his key dangled in front of your chin.

“good, because,” he leaned down to your ear, lightly nibbling the lobe as the cold key rested against your throat. “i’m going to punish you for all these years of torture.”

your eyes widened, the words sending a desirable chill down your spine. “torture?”

eren’s hot mouth travelled slowly from your ear down the side of your neck, lightly peppering the skin with lustful kisses. his tongue came out as he reached your collarbone, dragging the wet muscle up the front of your throat, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake. a small whimper involuntarily left your mouth as he pulled back, grabbing your chin in his large hand.

“all of the nicknames,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “the quips,” and another, your chest tightening. “the stunt you pulled earlier with your hand. oh god. it’s like you were practically begging me to bend you over and teach you a lesson.”

he pulled back, dark eyes boring into yours. the desire was palpable, your breathing shallow as he stared at you. it was like he was waiting for some silent agreement.

you held eye contact, tilting your chin back ever so slightly in his grip. “good thing i learn fast.”

your words flew straight to his cock, throbbing uncomfortably behind his jeans. eren let go of your chin, his lips hungrily reconnecting with yours as his hands pinned your wrists to either side of your head. his tongue was quick to invite itself into your mouth, warm and erotic.

you wanted to tug on his hair again; wanted to hear his primal groans and feel him vibrate against your mouth, but you were pinned to the bed. desperate to hear eren moan, your teeth grazed his bottom lip, the action making him yank his head back.

“tsk tsk, none of that,” he growled, wet lips glinting in the low light of the room. “this is your punishment. guess we’re going to have to do something else.”

you frowned as he let go of your wrists, lifting himself from the bed and standing. you propped yourself up on your elbows, eyes laced with desire as eren swiftly pulled the black shirt over his head, key pendant resting on his newly exposed chest. he was dangerously attractive like this; dark hair disheveled on his shoulders, only adding to the feral stare he was giving you.

he leaned forward, grabbing your thighs and yanking you to the end of the bed, legs dangling from the side. you watched in awe as he dropped to his knees, fingers coming up to toy with the button of your jean shorts.

“these little shorts make your ass look so good,” he grumbled, tapping the button. “be good and take them off for me.”

you wasted no time in lifting your ass off the bed, struggling to yank the denim down your legs without hitting eren in the face. he watched your every movement, licking his lips as you wiggled them off.

without thinking, your hands gripped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal a black bra. eren’s pupils dilated further at the unexpected sight of your breasts.

he helped pull the shorts from your ankles, tossing them aside as you sat back down, just in your panties and bra. you paused for a moment, unsure of what he was planning to do.

“watch me,” he demanded, staring at you through his brows. you nodded your head, breath hitching as he placed an open mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, tongue swiping against the smooth skin.

his eyelashes fluttered as he licked up your leg; just the way he looked at you being enough to have you creaming in your lace panties. your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, the burning in your face mirroring the way your clit throbbed along with your heart beat.

eren’s tongue trailed until he reached the edge of your underwear, eyes never failing to stay connected with yours. you swallowed as he lifted his head, placing his tongue flatly against your clothed clit.

it was a warm, muted feeling, your body all too aware of the beautiful man between your legs. eren brought his fingers up, hooking under the fabric and pushing it to the side.

“so wet for me already,” he hummed, a smile on his face. you blushed in embarrassment, the feeling of his breath on your glistening pool of moisture making you shiver. “’m gonna eat you so good, little bitch.”

you gasped as eren rapidly brought his face down, burying his head between your legs. the sensation was like no other; a swirling feeling in your stomach as his tongue hungrily swiped against your clit. your hands flew down to his hair, tugging as his lips wrapped around the bud, suckling softly.

a moan escaped your lips, the sound causing eren to groan out in reply. the vibration of his vocal cords against your center amplifying the pleasure.

a distinct feeling began to burn in your chest, the sloppiness of eren’s tongue licking up your slick causing your legs to squirm, tightening around his head. “fuck.”

eren pulled back at the pressure against his skull, a smack sounding through the air as he released his suction on your wet cunt.

“i told you to be good,” he hissed, lips coated in your sheen. you knew the image of eren’s face between your legs, hair disheveled and mouth swollen, eyes dark and lustrous, would be burned into the back of your brain.

flustered, you nodded your head, spreading your legs so they weren’t pressing against his face. he nodded in content, arms coming up to wrap around your thighs to keep you steady.

and he was back; eating your pussy like he hadn’t been fed in years, a primal desperation. he pressed his tongue down harder, the cry ripping from your throat at the sensation only egging him on. you struggled against his grip as he abused your clit with his mouth, sucking and tracing his teeth over it so good.

his tongue slid down to your entrance, shoving itself in without invitation. the fullness wasn’t like having sex; it was a heated, swirling feeling. the wet muscle circled around your spongey walls, your face beginning to burn and hands growing clammy in eren’s hair.

you threw your head back as his ministrations sped up, your hips attempting to grind into his face. the warmth in the pit of your stomach building like a loaded gun, ready to release itself.

all it took was the added pressure of his hand wrapping around your thigh so that his thumb could press against your clit, feverishly rubbing. you came crashing down, your eyes screwing shut as the wave of dopamine stretched to every part of your body, legs jerking against his hold.

eren pulled his head back again, a smile on his wet face as he licked your release from his lips. “tasted so good, so good for me.”

you breathed out in reply as he came back up above you, gently taking your chin and bringing his mouth down to yours.

the kiss was small and simple, your eye lids growing heavy. you could taste your bitter release on him, the unfamiliar flavor not completely unpleasant.

“sleepy?” eren mumbled against your lips, coming back to look at you. you nodded your head, eyes catching on the key that dangled from his neck. “too bad. we aren’t done with your punishment yet.”

you frowned, your body suddenly more awake than it was before. “huh?” you asked, sitting up as eren shifted to pull his jeans off.

you weren’t sure what you expected when he yanked both his jeans and boxers down; you guessed you’d always thought his anger issues were compensation for something. the realization dawned on you that eren had nothing to compensate for as his cock sprung from his pants, the sheer size making your mouth water.

a smirk crossed his face as he stepped from his jeans. “enjoying the view?”

“what? no,” you scoffed, averting your gaze. eren crawled back over you, his bare length pressing into your stomach as his hands came up to unclasp your bra.

“don’t be shy, this is your punishment after all,” he whispered, pulling the cups from your chest. his eyes unashamedly scanned your breasts, a smile tugging his lips as he gave them a generous squeeze.

you tried to ignore the imprint of him on your stomach; but it was nearly impossible. you could feel the spot between your legs grow wet again, arousal already weaseling its way back into your system.

eren brought his lips to yours once again, the kisses much sloppier and desperate than before. he grunted as you shifted to lay back down, his exposed dick rubbing against your stomach. “can’t wait to be inside of you,” he mumbled against your lips.

you whimpered at his words, his lips melding with your own while he simultaneously tugged your panties down your legs. he propped himself up with one arm, the other positioning the tip of his cock at the entrance of your already throbbing cunt.

you took a deep breath as he slowly eased himself into you; the sheer stretch making your eyes lull back in your head. eren moved his hips slowly at first, loosening you up. he was watching your expressions; his eyelids heavy and mouth slightly agape.

“shit, you’re so tight,” he groaned, hips starting to move faster as he gazed down at you. you swallowed, closing your eyes as he sent one particularly hard thrust, cock nearly ramming your cervix. “you good?”

“mhm,” you responded, bringing your hands up to grab his hair. “just so big.”

eren let out a breathy chuckle at that, eyes traveling down to your pelvis where his dick was visibly creating a bump with every thrust. he placed his hand on your stomach, pressing down as he bucked his hips violently forwards. he was so deep.

you cried out at the feeling of his length sliding in and out of your cunt, your walls clenching around him as your hands clawed at his muscular back.

he was filling you up so good, a moan leaving his lips as your enhanced arousal unexpectedly brought your second orgasm down, tears pricking your eyes. eren kept abusing your pussy, his thrusts growing senseless before he buried himself deep within you, releasing his load inside of your exhausted center.

both of your breathing was labored, eren looking up at the ceiling. his face was flushed as he recovered, you laying limply beneath him trying to regain your composure yourself.

“that felt so good,” you admitted, bringing your hand up from his back to caress his angular face. eren frowned at your words, large hand grabbing your wrist and removing it from his jawline.

“m’not tired yet,” he said seriously, your eyes widening as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips. your fucked out face beneath him had his dick already hardening again. “m’not gonna be tired till i win.”

he suddenly pulled up, hooking his hands under your knees and pushing your legs up by your head. the action strained your muscles, the feeling of eren’s cum dripping down your ass filling your head as he readied himself to fuck you senseless.

he stared at your cunt; at the way his cum was oozing out of it, the abused pussy ready to take him in again. he used his fingers to catch the drip, forcing it back inside of you. the thought of filling you up all nice and pretty sent him over the edge, his hand shamelessly guiding his cock back inside of you.

eren was meaner this time; each thrust was deep and deliberate, hitting your cervix and making you cry out in pleasure. the burning sensation in your clit was overwhelming, your mouth hanging open as eren slowly fucked you stupid.

“good, pretty girl” eren breathed out, ramming his hips into yours. “took her punishment like such a good girl.”

you tried to nod your head, but you couldn’t move. the feeling of hot, sticky tears rolled down your face, eren’s cock deep within you almost too much to bear. he grabbed your chin, tongue swiping up your cheek as he savored the salty flavor on his tastebuds. this man and his licking.

“tell me, did you learn your lesson?” eren grunted in your ear, hand still gripping your chin. you tried to form a sentence, fucked beyond words. “hm, use your words and i’ll let you cum.”

one more deep thrust and his dick stopped its strokes, pausing within you. “yes... yes.”

“yes what?”

your tongue was heavy in your mouth, pussy all too aware of eren’s length within it. “i learned my lesson, you won.”

he smirked, aggressively bucking his hips into your weak cunt, the action making you cry out as he rammed your cervix. the tears continued to roll down your cheeks as eren’s dick twitched, spurting the his seed into you. your third release followed his, your clit spasming from the overstimulation.

eren heaved himself out of you, collapsing deftly onto the bed. the two of you sat in a heated silence, your face sticky from the tears. eren glanced to you, eyes trailing down your body.

“i’ll get a rag,” he mumbled, shoving off the bed and walking into jean’s bathroom. you were beyond exhausted and knew that you’d be sore tomorrow. eren reemerged, quickly cleaning you up and handing you your shirt.

your eyes lazily watched him as he walked over and locked the door; brain too tired to form a sentence.

he must’ve noticed your concern. “we can sleep in here tonight; i don’t think you’re in any shape to move.”

you carefully crawled into the sheets, not even bothering to put your shirt back on. eren followed suit, climbing in behind you.

“night,” he whispered as he shut the bedside light off. your lids were growing heavy, a smile on your lips as you began to fall asleep.

“night, casanova.”

<3 <3 <3

#eren jaeger #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren #eren x reader #eren smut #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren jäger #this is so bad im sorry

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babyboibucky · 3 years

Text

Stages - Part 1

Pairing: AU!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,072

Summary: Bucky slowly realizes that he wants to cross the line of friendship with you.

A/N: I started a new series and this is the result of listening to Lauv’s Feelings so y’all might want to listen to that. A good ‘ol classic friends to lovers trope...if they do end up together in the end lol

STAGES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

ONE: REALIZATION

Bucky was sure that it was just platonic, his friendship with you. Being friends since your ugliest days back in college, it wasn't that hard not to keep it platonic. You sported the most hideous haircut back then, wore braces that made you spit on Bucky's face whenever the two of you argued and you cursed like a motherfucking sailor.

There wasn’t even a hint of sweetness in your entire personality. Bucky literally cried to you out of fear when he almost failed a major and you merely laughed at him, called him a pussy for getting emotional over something so trivial and bought him a bucket of beer to make him feel better.

"She's totally not girlfriend material." Bucky used to tell everyone and you always agreed without even feeling offended.

Why would you be anyway? Getting attracted to Bucky never crossed your mind even though he didn't seem to have that awkward teenager phase, that lucky bastard. He was already good-looking with his piercing blue eyes and boyish grin that made every girl in the university swoon. Sure, he had some baby fat back then but his goddamn charm was undeniable.

Too bad it never worked on you.

You’ve seen how Bucky flirted, heard his cheesy pick-up lines over and over again and they just made you cringe. You almost wanted to throw up when Bucky shamelessly engaged in phone sex while he hung out at your dorm. Thank god he didn’t whip his dick out and jerked off while you studied, he just groaned and cursed into the phone, talked dirty to whoever it was he was talking to and boy was Bucky terrible at it.

“You want me to fuck you with my 8-inch dick?” Bucky grunted into the phone as he laid on your bed.

You rolled your eyes and slammed your laptop shut, deciding to continue reviewing somewhere else. You left your dorm but not without grabbing Bucky’s phone, interrupting him in the middle of his disgusting sex talk.

“8-inch dick? More like 8 inches divided by 4. Good luck sucking his micropenis, sis.”

“You fucking, bitch!”

The both of you knew each other very well too, a tad bit too much at that. You knew each other's deepest darkest secrets like that one time in sophomore year when Bucky had food poisoning during a test and had to swallow back his vomit again and again until he finished the exam. Or when you went on a blind date for the first time, sharted, and braved through the entire day with shit in your underwear.

You also knew he wasn't one to settle down and all the times that he did commit, he always ended up breaking the poor girl's heart. Bucky was also aware of your trust issues given your family history. Having witnessed your parents fall out of love and into resentment, you refused to believe in relationships.

“I heard you rejected Tyler. He isn’t so bad you know?” Bucky asked as he sat next to you in the library.

“You know I don’t do relationships, Buck.” you told him, leaning your face against your palm as you flipped through the pages of your handouts.

“I heard you dumped Dot.” you asked back. “I thought she was the one. I mean, you sorta changed when you started dating her. Thought you stopped using your dick to think.”

Bucky shrugged, “I got bored of it.” he responded.

You snorted and turned to him, “Guys like you are the reason why I don’t do relationships.”

“Yeah well, girls like you are the reason why I don’t do commitment.” he snapped back. “You’re too cynical, I mean c’mon. Have fun, suck a dick without attachments.” he said out loud, earning a chorus of shushes from the other students engrossed in their books.

You rolled your eyes at Bucky in embarrassment and started gathering your things, preparing to leave the library.

“I already did.”

“What the fuck?! When and whose dick did you suck?!”

“Shush!!!!!”

It was pretty clear that romance was out of the books between the two of you.

Bucky was sure that it was just platonic, his friendship with you. Until he slowly began to realize that maybe, just maybe...you might be girlfriend material after all.

As the years went by, Bucky started noticing the little changes in you in all aspects...and as a man, it was the physical changes that he started to notice first.

Sleepovers weren't unusual for the both of you, in fact, the both of you were comfortable letting each other stay the night at each other’s dorms. Junior year in college, Bucky decided to stay at your dorm to work on a project. You had just finished taking a bath when Bucky knocked on your door and almost choked on his own spit upon seeing you in a tight cami top and the tiniest pair of shorts.

It wasn’t really the first time you paraded around Bucky wearing such, but for some reason, he couldn’t get his eyes to look away from your chest that night because fuck, when did they get that perky? Bucky felt bad for sexualizing so he decided to go through your old pictures (you with the ugly-ass hair and braces) to rinse his brain and fortunately, it worked.

For a while, Bucky managed to ignore the physical changes you were going through. It didn't last long though, because right after graduation Bucky started to notice a lot of things about you. Your hair had grown longer and for some reason, Bucky found himself wanting to run his fingers through your locks. He loved the natural waves in your hair, sometimes he'd tug at them to annoy you but truth was, he just wanted an excuse to touch it.

You had your braces removed in senior year too but it wasn't until your graduation that Bucky noticed how it totally changed your smile. You were pretty insecure about your teeth and when you finally got them straightened out, you learned to smile more and with confidence. Bucky remembered your habit of covering your mouth with your hands whenever you laughed so when he first saw you laugh freely, he thought you looked the most beautiful.

Were the changes in you that blatant for Bucky to start noticing them or was he just paying more attention to you?

Bucky didn't know why. At least, not yet.

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @hersilencedscreams

#bbbwrites #stages #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky x you #bucky x reader #sebastian stan

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tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

Families - part 2

This is the following part to the fic I wrote for the prompt Single parents.

PART 1

It will likely have one or two more parts.

-----

A few months had passed and the season shifted and winter had eventually fallen on Orynth, bringing snow and its usual cold temperatures. The arrival of winter meant as well winter festival and if there was something Orynth excelled at was to celebrate that season and the solstice. The usual winter fair was sprawling in the central area of town, with food vendors, stalls and the major attraction; the ice rink.

The fair was the reason why now Rowan was in his car with his daughter, driving to Aelin’s place to pick up her and Aisling.

They had kept their promise and the four of them had become quite close. The girls would have sleepovers and Aelin had been more than happy to look after Astrid when Rowan was on a night shift at the hospital. On a handful of occasions, on his day off he had reciprocated and Aisling spent the day with them.

Once the fair had started, Rowan had asked Aelin and her daughter to go out skating. He loved skating, and ice and everything connected with winter. Astrid instead had become obsessed with skating after her dad took her to a hockey game. At eight she was now totally hooked and had also asked to join a club, so Rowan had signed up to a junior ice hockey team and now his daughter was looking forward to show off her skills on the ice.

They arrived at the house not long after and Aelin and Aisling were on the pavement waiting for them.

“Hello stranger,” said Aelin getting in the car seat behind him and with her hand brushed his shoulder. Although nothing official had happened between them he had not missed the sneaky glances, the shy touches that both of them had been exchanging.

“Hi Astrid,” she added brushing the girl’s head “looking forward to show off? Your dad tells me that you are really good on the skates.”

The girl beamed proudly “I have been teaching dad. He is clumsy.”

Rowan chuckled “I am just rusty. I used to play hockey, but I haven’t been much on the ice in a long time, young lady.” He replied saving his dignity. He listened to Aelin engage with his daughter and a part of him was jealous of her easiness. He loved his daughter and did his best to keep her happy, but sometimes he felt like he did not have the same connection that Astrid had with Aelin. He blamed it on him being a man, he just hoped he was not letting her down.

Once all parked up they got off the car and started walking to the ice rink.

“Dad, can we have hot chocolate later?”

“If you behave.”

Astrid grabbed her own skates from the trunk and hugged her dad “I always do.”

They let the girl walk in front of them and Aelin hooked her arms with Rowan’s as they reached the rink “I have a confession.” She said quietly, searching for his green eyes.

Rowan lifted an eyebrow in a question.

“I don’t know how to skate.”

Rowan chuckled and patted her hand “it’s fine, I’ve got you.”

Aelin’s heart raced at those words. Maybe she was imagining more than what he actually meant but for an instant she felt as if there was a deeper meaning in that statement.

At the ticket booth Rowan paid for all of them and they grabbed their gear. Astrid and Aisling already at the rink side and ready to go.

“Dad, can we go?” Shouted an impatient Astrid.

Rowan exchanged a glance with Aelin and she shrugged.

“Go, but be careful and keep an eye on Aisling. She is not as good a skater as you.”

Astrid grinned and the two girls disappeared on the ice.

In the meantime Aelin had sat down and was donning her ice skates. Rowan crouched down and helped her. Then he sat next to her and donned his pair. Once ready he helped her stand. Gently he fixed her scarf around her neck “it’s cold.” He told her while his finger lingered a bit longer than needed.

“Let’s go,” he told her while offering her a gloved hand. Aelin took it and together they entered the rink. Aelin felt unstable the second she set foot on the ice and crashed against him. Rowan pulled her closer to him “steady.” He looked at her and huffed a laugh.

“Are you making fun of me?” She asked outraged at his reaction.

“No,” he shook his head and fixed her wooly hat “your hat was askew and it made you look cute.”

“Rowan Whitethorn,” her hand on his chest “are you flirting with me?”

Rowan winked and moved a bit away and left her but Aelin shouted that she needed help, so Rowan came back, grabbed her hands and turned around so that he was skating backwards and pulling her with him.

“Show off.”

“I told you I played hockey.”

“Were you good?”

He made her pirouette slowly and laughed “I almost went professional but during one game I injured my knee pretty badly and I had to give up.”

“That sucks.”

Rowan shrugged “I went into med school instead. I ended up finding another path I loved.”

She crashed again against his chest and loved the feeling of her cheek against his hard muscles. And his scent. Rowan smelled of pine and snow. She inhaled deeply and a moment later she felt his strong arms around her “You and I should go on a date.” He said quietly while he kept dragging her around the rink. She looked up at him and saw tenderness in his green eyes. She hadn’t imagined it. The feelings, whatever was blossoming between was there had not been her imagination.

“If I survive this ice skating outing, you can take me out.”

“Good,” in that instant their daughters whizzed past them and Aelin laughed “they are having fun.”

“Astrid has been counting the days for this evening. She really likes it when you two are around.”

“She is not the only one…” and she hugged him tighter and Rowan squeezed her shoulders.

“I have a very good babysitter, She has been doing it for years. She can be trusted.” He explained to her “I can’t use my neighbour at night. She is elderly and she only helps me during the day.”

Aelin nodded “if you trust her I am happy, but we will have to pay her double and I want to cover my share.”

Rowan was about to protest but Aelin stopped him with a finger on his lips “No buts. She is looking after my daughter as well, so it’s on me too. Don’t fight me on this.”

Rowan’s hand rose in a yielding motion “you win.”

The evening ended without incidents and they all made it out of the rink alive. They had dinner at one of the vendors, the four of them sitting at the picnic tables in the warm area. Aelin even convinced him to eat a chocolate covered pretzel.

Eventually the evening came to an end with Rowan claiming that it was getting close to bed time for the girls and when they tried to protest Aelin joined him in saying that they had school the following day and promising another evening out not on a school night.

Rowan drove Aelin and Aisling back home and on the door they agreed on a day for their fate and Aelin sealed the deal with a kiss on his cheek.

—

It was the Saturday and Aelin was in front of Rowan’s door with Aisling at her side “Will you promise you will be nice? The young lady is here to look after you and Astrid.”

Yes, mum.”

Aelin rang the bell and Rowan opened the door and she gasped. He had worn a pair of jeans, a black shirt and he was now donning his coat. Her heart raced madly in her chest. The man was even more stunning than usual.

“Sorry we are a bit late, there was traffic.”

Rowan shook his head and motioned to come inside.

Astrid came running down the stairs and the two girls disappeared upstairs once again. The two adults had a few words with the babysitter and eventually left.

“Do you think Evangeline will be okay with two of them?”

Rowan laughed “I imparted upon Astrid the need to behave or I will reduce her book money allowance.”

“That is cruel,” commented Aelin who loved the idea that he gave his daughter an allowance to buy books.

“But it works. Since she had started reading she always needs to have a book with her. She loves it. I used the no hockey threat two days ago so I have to change from time to time.”

Aelin joined his hand on the gear “I am glad we are doing this.”

“Me too,” he replied, squeezing her hand back while at the traffic lights “I have been meaning to ask for a while but I never knew if it was just me or you reciprocated as well. Then the ice rink evening I had my answer so I gathered my courage and asked.”

Aelin laughed “I had the same debate. I kept thinking that it was just me.”

They arrived at the restaurant ten minutes later and as he helped her to get out of the car Rowan could not look away from her. Aelin was wearing a lovely blue dress that matched her eyes, her hair was tied up in a lovely French braid. She looked amazing. Once inside the restaurants, they sat, and Aelin could not believe where she was. He had taken her to a very high end restaurant, one she had read about but always thought was far out of her league. She was glad she had dressed nicely.

“How did you pull this off? Even a uni lecturer like me knows that this place has a crazy waiting list.”

Rowan laughed “The wife of one my colleagues, she is the head chef here. I just asked a favour.”

“This place is classy.” Aelin added “I hope that it’s not one of those places where the price is bigger than the portions.”

Rowan chuckled and filled her glass with wine “Definitely not, I promise. The food is really superb.”

They ordered and their food came very quickly and Aelin was impressed by the plates in front of her. The food looked amazing and the portions definitely generous.

She took a few bites then a sip of wine and braced herself for the conversation she wanted to have with him and hoped it did not ruin the atmosphere.

“Rowan, where are we going with this?” She asked, looking at him “We have daughters. Two girls who like each other very much and connect because they both have something in common.” She paused to gather her thoughts “I know it’s just the first date, but our situation is different. I have to think about Aisling. Allowing you in means letting you in her life as well. I can’t do flings, Rowan.” She finished quietly.

Rowan sighed and took a bite of his food, then placed his fork down and took her hand “I had the same speech ready in my head. Our daughters have the priority and I agree, we need to be careful. All I can say is that you are the first woman since my wife died that I ever felt any interest in.” He brought their twinned hands to his mouth “You are incredible and I want this to work out and not just for our daughters. I think we need some happiness.”

Aelin almost burst into tears “I want this too. You have no idea how much. But I am so rusty.”

“Hey,” he reached out with his hand and stroked her cheek “I am rusty too, but there is no rush. One step at a time.”

Aelin nodded and they went back to eating for a moment.

“Do you think we should tell the girls?” Rowan’s question was cautious.

“Let’s have a few more dates than we can just tell them.”

Rowan nodded.

The meal finished, the bill came and now they were walking in the park while snowflakes fell from the sky.

Rowan took her hand in his “it’s snowing.”

Aelin freed it and walked a few step away from him and started circling under the snow, her mouth wide open. Rowan stared at her and laughed at the scene and at the joy emanating from Aelin. And while he stared at her, dancing in the snow he realised that his feelings for her were far deeper that he thought. In the few months they had gotten closer he realised that she made him happy. Aelin made him feel again the array of emotions that he thought he had lost a long time ago. She made him feel alive and in that instant he realised he wanted her in his life. With him and Astrid. The four of them.

He took a step toward her and wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her closer. She looked up at him and the smile she gave him was pure sunlight. He kissed her. Deeply while his hand brushed her face. She opened for him and Rowan put all his love into the kiss.

“I love you.” He said softly against her lips, not letting her go. Never letting her go. They were each other light out of the pit that their lives had been for almost eight years.

A second chance at being a family.

At a dream broken too early.

“I love you, Rowan.”

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #domestic fluff

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noyashighlight · 3 years

Text

My little dove

Child!Suna x Mother!Reader

Warning: Angst, death.

A/n: was reading a manga and listening to “fourth of July” by Sufjan Stevens when I thought of this idea.

“ Could you at least try to make some time for your family? Rintarō and I miss you- yes I understand work is important but so is your fam- That asshole!! I can’t believe he just hung up on me. “ you huffed softly shoving your phone into your purse feeling defeated, not having a use for it anymore. It was a typical Wednesday currently as you and Rintarō rode in the back of a black Limo going to drop him off at daycare before going off to work. You had just gotten off the phone with the sorry excuse of a husband and father, the man being a total workaholic.

Rintarō opened his eyes widely hearing you curse for the first time in front of him. “ Mommy who were you on the phone with? Also, mommy what’s an asshole?” The innocent four-year-old said the curse word with such ease and purity, that no one could be upset with him. Scooping him up into your lap hugging him against your chest, he looked like a spitting image of his father but with bright eyes full of life. Your son was the best thing to have happened to you during this loveless marriage.

The boy's father had one goal from this marriage and it was to produce an heir for the family company who would take over once it was their time. You were a knowing pawn in this all, but at least you could keep the man you love close to you with this marriage. It was draining though not only being an emotional support for your child but also keeping your own mental health in check.

Smiling you peppered kisses his plump cheeks, he was the cutest child ever. “ My little dove, that’s a bad word that you shouldn’t say okay? You can never say curses or Santa is going to be upset with you.” If only you could have taken a picture of his face, mouth wide with shock. Other than you, Santa was the only person he looked up to. “ I was talking to your father..” you kept it short and sweet not wanting to trouble your child. Maybe it was cause he was getting older or just sharp in general he frowned at the mention of his dad.

“ I don’t like daddy, he’s scary!” He shouted shoving his head into your chest hiding as of his father was present. It shocked you that even your son felt his cold gaze. Even if you resented him you didn’t want Rin to feel upset with his father and never build a relationship. “ What do you mean you don’t like daddy? Don’t you have a good time when dad comes home and we go out to eat dinner?”

He rapidly shook his then pulled your face down so he could whisper in your ear, probably not wanting the driver to hear. “ No, I like it better when it’s just us Mommy when daddy is here you never smile or make me laugh! Daddy is always like this.” He made a face his eyes relaxing and no sign of emotion on his face, he looked like a carbon copy.

To cover up your giggles you covered your mouth with your hands. Who knew your toddler could be so hilarious. At that moment the limo came to a stop indicating it was time for him to go. “ Well, my little dove we can have dinner together after I pick you up okay? If you’re extra good today I can sneak you a cookie before daddy tucks you in.” You kiss him on the head as the driver opens the door. Little Rintarō looked so adorable with his little backpack as he walked back to you while using his other hand to hold his teacher's hand.

“ Why do you coddle him so much y/n? He’s not a baby anymore and needs to start growing up. You’re so insolent when it comes to your motherly duties!” A now six-year-old Suna heard his father's voice boom down the hallway, rubbing his eyes he slowly got out of bed to see the commotion. Peaking his head out of the hallway he sees you and his dad sitting at the table. You looking down at your lap, it was visible you were shaking from trying not to cry loudly. A site he was used to this his household, his father never yelled in front of Rin.

“ He’s not too old for his mother to love him! I’m just trying to be a good mom, what about you? Do you even know his favorite color or what kind of cereal he prefers. “ you fought back at least trying not to be a doormat anymore, it was fine if he wouldn’t love you but he wasn’t just going to treat your son like some stranger. Not wanting his parents to fight anymore he walked into the dining room holding his blanket that was the cause of this argument.

“ Daddy, why did you make mommy cry again?” The two adults froze in their actions hearing the soft voice, he walked over to you and hugged you even though you were sitting. Climbing into your lap he glared at his father. “ You’re a bad man daddy! You always make mommy sad, when mommy is sad I get sad.” Hearing your young child stand up for you made your heartache, he really was your anchor even though you were the parent.

“ Mom why’d you come today?” Suna said raising his eyebrows as he got into the back of the limo, the now thirteen-year-old looked very handsome. Since he had gotten older it was rare for you to pick him up, but sadly you couldn’t make it to his volleyball game yesterday due to work so this was your way of making it up to him. You sometimes wondered if he got any of his genes on his outside appearance from you. “ Well, I thought you and I could get ice cream after school before we go have dinner with your dad.” You smiled smoothing out his hair, he leaned into your touch.

Your son smirked mischievous mirroring your smile, “ He’s gonna be pissed when he sees the driver took us to get ice cream before dinner. Why don’t we take a walk around the park to, make him wait a bit longer at the table.” Your husband had his hands full with you two being absolute trouble makers, he could never break the bond you two shared though it was his fault for his neglect.

Two hours later Rintarō received a call from his angry tell him that he’s been at the restaurant for over an hour. “ Sorry Sir, we’re on our way.” He held back his laughter. Rin never called his father in a loving tone anymore to him he was an empty shell of a dad. After getting off the phone you two look at each other bursting out in a laugh, soon quieting down feeling the sleepiness after eating all of that ice cream. Rin rested his head on your shoulder, your child was now taller than you and still growing.

“ Mom, can you sing that song, that you used to hum?” You thought he has fallen asleep he was silent for so long. The young male hasn’t asked you to sing in years, though you were happy to accept his request anyway. The song wasn’t a happy one but your soft voice made it a gentle lullaby.

“ Sitting at the bed with the halo at your head was it all a disguise, like Junior High. Where everything was fiction, future, and prediction. Now, where am I? My fading supply. Did you get enough love, my little dove? Why do you cry? And I'm sorry I left, but it was for the best though it never felt right. My little Versailles, Shall we look at the moon, my little loon. Why do you cry? Make the most of your life, while it is rife, while it is light.” His breathing slowed signaling to you he had fallen asleep, it would be a pain to wake him up when you guys arrived to the restaurant but for now it was peaceful.

Suddenly the limo tumbled, Suna’s eyes shot open feeling his body being thrown multiple times. As quick as it happened it had come to a stopped the limo feeling less spacious. His body ached feeling glasses shard pricking his back as now he was laughing on the window, the vehicle on its side. Looking up was you on top of him caging him in like you were shielding with your own body. “ Are you okay?” You croaked out, blood trickling down from the side of your mouth. You looked pale and almost lifeless but still kept a warm smile not wanting your precious child to panic. You caressed his cheek softly glad he only had a few scratches. You frowned a bit seeing him now crying. He must have been hurt.

“ Don’t cry my little dove, help will be here soon to get you out of this.” You cooed wiping the tears escaping his eyes. “They are going to get us both out of here right mom?” He cried out with pleading eyes seeing you turn paler as the minutes passed. How could you tell him the truth that you were going to make it? You kept eye contact with him not wanting him to look down, because if he did he would see you were being pierced by a sharp metal-like object. Just the sheer worry that your son needed help kept you going.

You nodded your head slowly with a sweet smile, “ Of course, we are going to be okay.” You started hearing the sirens in the distance, feeling relieved they weren’t going to take long seeing as you were running out of time. “ You were always a bad liar mom, always saying you’re okay when you aren’t. “ he saw right through you, why wouldn’t he after all he was your best friend and son.

Letting out a soft chuckle even though it hurt you pressed a kiss on his forehead, “ I love you my little dove, make sure the old man gets you all the ice cream you want after you get all patched up or give him hell.” It was time to go, the feeling left your legs long ago now your body was feeling more peaceful.

“ Mom please don’t go, you’re all I have! You can’t leave me in this world with the old geezer! Please mom just stay awake a little longer!” He sobbed uncontrollably as he felt your thump lifelessly on his chest, he hopes his loud cries and shouts would keep you awake just like when he was a child wanting your attention. He let out an agonizing scream hearing the ambulances park, not cause he was hurting from his injuries no because he had just lost the most important person to him in the world.

Suna Rintarō’s eyes were cold and half-lidded as he stood at your funeral, the picture of you smiling staring back at him. He looked just like his father more than ever. Losing you meant he lost one of his reasons to smile, no one could replace the love of his mother.

“ Rin it’s time to go.” His father’s voice wasn’t so stern today, making Rintarō angry. His father didn’t have the right to be sad when he was one of the reasons you had cried so much. Well, he wasn’t going to take over this stupid company one day, remember how you would cheer him on to the games you would attend made his chest ache. Volleyball was his passion, he would succeed and make you proud no matter what.

And I'm sorry I left, but it was for the best though it never felt right.....

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!!#suna headcanons #suna rintarō #suna x reader #hq suna #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintaro angst

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aellynera · 3 years

Text

The Best Years of Your Life (Reeves x Reader)

THE BEST YEARS OF YOUR LIFE

(hey hey, this is my other submission for @wasicskosgirl and her 800 follower celebration! and yes, you read that right - it’s REEVES. i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope you enjoy reading it! CONGRATS Amanda!!)

Word Count: um like 6200ish oops it was supposed to be a blurb

Summary: They say the best years of your life happen in high school, but what do they know?

Warnings: Some language. Female reader implied but no pronouns/description. Teenage angst. Adult wistfulness. Mostly fluffy tho. No promises about proofreading. Frog murder.

with the prompt - “Like what you see?”

It all started back in high school. Sometimes you wonder how often people say that, and if it’s really true or they’re just falsely remembering how things happened because high school is supposed to be the best four years of your life.

But in this case, it’s true. Because high school is when you met Reeves.

Sophomore Year. High School. A Friday.

It was the third day of sophomore year, fourth period on a Friday morning, your last before the lunch break. Biology class was maybe the one you were least looking forward to, not exclusively because of the required frog dissection, but pretty damn close. Gross. And you never understood why the school year didn’t just start on a Monday, but you were new here in San Diego. Maybe they just did things differently.

It was bad enough being the new kid. It was worse when you walked into class halfway through the lecture, even if it wasn’t your fault. The timing of the move was weird, and you’d spent most of the first two days, and this morning, doing placement tests and talking to your counselor.

And now you were being called out in front of the entire class.

“Ah, there you are,” your teacher announced as you walked in the door. “Everyone, this is our new student, please make them feel welcome. You can sit over there.”

Your eyes followed as she motioned to the empty seat at the lab table in the back of the room. Suddenly you weren’t sure if your face felt hot because of embarrassment or because of the boy in the other chair.

Dark, curly hair cut close on the sides but longer on the top. Deep brown eyes framed by long, long lashes. Full, plush lips curling up into his cheek on one side. A nose that, okay, maybe might be a bit oversized but for some reason worked on his handsome face and--

Well, shit. Definitely not the embarrassment.

You shuffled your way to your seat and slid into it with your head down. A few students watched you curiously but soon turned their attention back to the lesson. You tried your best to focus on what was going on, to not look to your left at the distraction next to you.

You weren’t very successful.

By now you thought you’d sneaked enough covert glances to know that we was wearing a leather jacket, had a small diamond stud earring in his left ear, a bunch of silver-studded brown suede wrap bracelets around both wrists, a silver ring on his right index finger, and oddly precise handwriting as he took notes. In between relevant facts the teacher was sharing, he was doodling tiny music notes in the margins of his notebook.

And he totally caught you looking.

“Like what you see?” he leaned over and whispered.

Your mouth felt drier than the Sahara but also somehow so moist you were afraid you might have actually drooled on yourself. You should have opened your mouth to respond but your brain refused to make the connection. Probably for the best.

At least, at first. When it finally caught up to you, the only response your brain could provide was, “Maybe?”

Now would be the perfect time for the floor to swallow you whole.

He just winked at you and his attention went back to the doodles around his notes.

You shifted your gaze back to your own notebook, but you don’t know if anything else of importance was said, and don’t remember writing anything down. The bell ringing sharply pulled you back to reality and you hastily shoved your books in your backpack, ready to escape.

Just as you were about to leave, a voice called out. “Hey, sorry about earlier. If I freaked you out or anything.”

You looked up. He was smiling at you, a little shyly. You bit your lip, your brain and mouth still refusing to connect.

He stuck his hand out. “I’m Reeves. You’re new here?”

“Um…” you smacked yourself internally. This was ridiculous, you weren’t really shy, you knew how to have a conversation, he was just introducing himself. You were going to have a serious conversation with your brain later about proper communication techniques.

It felt like hours had passed, but you finally pulled yourself together enough to respond. “Yeah. My- my dad got transferred for work, we moved here like a week ago. He literally dragged the family across the country. I’m originally from New York City.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, cool! I always wanted to go to New York City!”

You found yourself smiling back.

“Do you...wanna sit with me at lunch?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “Maybe you could tell me a little about the city? And...about you, since we’re gonna have to commit heinous acts of violence on an amphibian together? I’d like to know who’s wielding a scalpel next to me.”

The giggle that escaped your throat could not be contained. This boy - Reeves - was adorable. “Oh. Okay, yeah. I’d really like that.”

The Present.

Poor Lenny the Frog never stood a chance. Then again, neither did you.

To be fair, Lenny was already dead when you and Reeves got your hands on him. Well, when you got your hands on him, because for the full first half of that specific class period, Reeves refused to touch him and nearly turned as green as Lenny once was. That’s when he insisted on naming your cadaver, because somehow giving it a name made it easier to deal with.

You were pretty sure Reeves was nuts.

By the middle of sophomore year, you were dead too, but not for the same reasons.

By the middle of sophomore year, you weren’t sure how you were still alive, because every time he looked over at you and gave you a sly smile during class, gave you that look, you felt your heart go taut and you forgot how to breathe and certainly, rightfully, should have been dead.

Your friend Alexis stuck her head into your bathroom. “Hey, we’re just waiting on Vanessa, and then we’re good to go. Drinks first? The show doesn’t start until 8 so we have time.”

You glanced up from your makeup and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Alexis grinned. “Aaaaaah I’m so glad you agreed to go out tonight! It’s gonna be so much fun!”

“Oh, it’s gonna be something,” you muttered, going back to your eyeliner.

Alexis had been the first one to see the concert announcement about a week ago. A benefit show at one of the clubs down in Greenwich Village, some punk revival thing (for charity) with a bunch of different singers and musicians. Not normally your scene, but Alexis scanned through the names and suddenly remembered you’d known Reeves in high school. You said yes, he was in your class, and you’d been lab partners once. Vanessa squealed in excitement and Alexis announced you were going to the show. There was never any actual agreement.

Because of course Reeves was going to be there. And of course, you had to be too.

Junior Year. The Parking Lot. A Tuesday.

“I’m just saying, it was a ridiculous foul, and it should never have been called,” Reeves groused as you walked out of the gym.

“We also should have made like twenty more of our own foul shots,” you pointed out.

The Lake Howell Silverhawks had fallen to their arch-rivals in a somewhat glorious fashion. You didn’t even like basketball that much. But that didn’t really matter. The games were just an excuse to go out for burgers before and hang out with your friends during.

It was definitely an excuse to hang out with Reeves.

Junior year, you were both disappointed to find you didn’t have any classes together, but you still almost always ate lunch together. He’d come over to your house to study during the week and sometimes just to chill out on the weekends. Over the past year, he’d shown you all around the city and taken you to his favorite places. You told him all about New York, how you missed it and one day you’d go back, and all the famous sites and which ones were tourist traps that he was only allowed to visit the very first time and then never again.

You spent so much time together, even your mother liked to tease you about why he wasn’t your boyfriend.

It took a while for you to find the words to tell her it was because he was someone else’s.

As much as you liked to pretend she didn’t change anything, Randie Rustenberg changed everything. It was gradual, like a creeping vine of ivy, and she slowly took him over. There was no malice; it was just one of those things that happened. Reeves spent less time with you, his best friend, and more time with Randie, his girlfriend.

The girlfriend you desperately wished was you, because ever since that first biology class you’d had the biggest, stupidest crush on him.

Eventually you had a boyfriend of your own. Theo was a nice guy, he really was. Polite, friendly, had a good sense of humor, liked your family. And your family loved him. Your mother was so happy that you had a boyfriend, she seemed to forget to ask how Reeves was and if you’d seen him lately.

Of course you saw him. You saw him every day, in the cafeteria, at his locker, passing by in the halls. Sometimes you could find him playing the grand piano on the stage in the empty auditorium. Yes, if your mother bothered to ask, you saw Reeves all the time. Now it was just always with her.

Except this week. It was a break of sorts, no classes, just some sports and other school activities. Randie was on some trip with her parents for some kind of church function, and Theo was fishing with his dad on some lake up north. He’d told you where, but you honestly couldn’t be bothered to recall. So when a bunch of your friends and a bunch of his friends all said everyone was going to the basketball game, there was no debate.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

Sometime during the game, your friends wandered off to the snack bar and never ventured back. His friends started a game of hacky-sack under the bleachers. And you found yourself pretending to understand all the finer points about hoops strategy, cheering and yelling along with Reeves and having a great time, just like you used to.

“Where’d you park?” he asked as you left the gym and headed out into the sea of cars. You vaguely pointed in the direction of yours and he grinned. “Oh, good, I’m that way too. Come on, I’ll walk you.”

The faint glow emitted by the lampposts in the parking lot bounced off his curls and his eyes, when you could catch a glimpse, were bright beneath them.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

The walk wasn’t very far, but it felt like it was over in a second. You hadn’t said anything on the way, just soaked in the comfort of walking next to him as he kept commenting on the game.

He was waving his hands everywhere, looking at them as he talked as if his hand motions would make things make any more sense to you, in the middle of saying something about your center and how they needed to get better about blocking out when you finally spoke.

“Oh, shit.”

Reeves looked up at you. “What, you don’t agree?”

You dropped your bag on the ground and rolled your eyes. “No, my car is locked and I left my keys inside.” You pointed to the passenger seat. Your keys stared back at you derisively.

You both stared back at them for a moment, then he grinned. “Hang on, I got you.” He held up one finger and trotted off to his car, coming back a minute later with something in his hand. “This should take care of it.”

You took a step back. “Reeves? Um. Okay, why do you have a coat hanger in your car.”

He rolled his eyes back at you. “For emergencies, duh.” He quickly twisted the hanger into a hook shape and went to your passenger side window.

“And why do you know how to break into a car with said coat hanger?”

“Like I told you,” his tongue poked out between his teeth as he worked, “for emergencies. You think I haven’t locked my own keys in my car once or six times?”

“Did Randie teach you how to do this?” The words were out of your mouth before you could think. She probably had. She might have been churchy when required, but she was also responsible for about half of Reeves’s stints in detention (the other half just being him making the wrong joke at the wrong time and pissing a teacher off.)

Thank god he didn’t seem to hear you as he kept working at the lock. Finally you heard a *click* and he pumped a fist into the air with a little “yessss!”

And then you’re not really sure what happened. You bent down to pick up your bag and then you were standing up and Reeves’s face was literally about three inches away from yours and for the eight thousandth time since you’d know him, you forgot how to breathe.

Neither of you said anything for what felt like days. You just stared at each other under the dim halo of the parking lot lights.

“Here you go.” He took your hand and dropped your keys into it.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Like what you see?” the corners of his mouth quirked up, just the slightest little bit.

“...Maybe.”

And the staring recommenced. Were you two getting closer? Physically closer, you meant, of course you were close, you’d always been close. Well, at one time you were really close but then Randie Restenberg happened and it wasn’t fair that she got to know what those lips felt like and did he always smell this good or--

“Yo, Reeves!” A pickup truck full of guys skidded to a stop behind your car and one of his friends - Jake? Jack? you barely remembered your own name right now - stuck his head out the window. “Fight to the death ping pong tourney at Matt’s house! You in?”

Reeves bit his lip and closed his eyes for a second before he pulled back with a soft “I’m sorry” before turning to his friends. “Um, yeah, sure. Sounds brutal. I’ll meet you there.”

The pickup sped off, tires screeching out of the parking lot. Reeves turned back to you, but you’d already gotten into your now unlocked car and started the engine.

You rolled down the window a fraction and gave him a weak smile. “Hey, um. Thanks for saving my butt. Now go kick theirs at ping pong, yeah?” Your face felt so hot, and for once you were grateful for the dim lights in the lot.

“You could, um, come along if- if you want.”

“Nah, I’m...I’m tired, I’m just gonna...um, head home. But I’ll see you tomorrow maybe?”

Reeves looked like he was about to say something else, but he didn’t. He just stepped onto the curb in front of your car, smiled, and raised his hand in a little wave as he watched you drive off.

The Present.

A series of shrieks and the slamming of the door told you Vanessa had finally arrived. It sounded like they were jumping up and down on the tile just inside your front door, which was ridiculous since you’d all just seen each other the day before. But typical.

You smoothed a pinkie under your eye, checked your makeup one final time, and went into the living room.

“Oh, you look hot,” Vanessa gushed. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and plopped down on your couch. “Who are you trying to impress tonight?”

“Reeves, of course,” Alexis laughed, leaning on the kitchen counter. She sorted anything she might need from her big purse into a little evening bag as she talked. “You know we go to all his shows. And you know they went to high school together.”

You snorted. “That was a long time ago. I’m not even sure he’d remember me.”

Vanessa waggled her eyebrows. “You’re probably right, No offense, honey, but no one was that hot back in high school.”

He was, your brain supplied. Very helpful. You smiled wanly.

Vanessa continued. “But you were friends, right? You’ve never really talked about it. God, it must be so cool now to think that you were friends with Reeves back when he was an awkward high school teenager.”

“Reeves was never awkward,” you laugh. “It was kind of unfair.”

“But you totally had a crush on him,” Alexis offered.

Had? What do you mean, had? Oh my god, shut up, brain.

A pillow flew in your direction and you ducked as Vanessa giggled and Alexis rolled her eyes. “Come on, tell us something about him,” Vanessa goaded. “Wait. Was he, like, your prom date? That’s your secret! You totally went to prom with Reeves and you never told us!”

Senior Year. Prom. A Saturday.

The night was not supposed to go this way.

It was supposed to be limousines and corsages and dinner with dates and friends. It was supposed to be endless pictures while your mother told you how gorgeous you looked and how handsome he was and your father gave a thinly-veiled shovel talk about how he knew what happens on prom night and what would really happen if that actually happened. It was supposed to be punch and cookies and balloons. It was supposed to be dancing closer than the chaperones were comfortable with and kissing with tongue when they weren’t looking.

It was supposed to be the best night of your life. It was supposed to be fun.

Nowhere in your weeks of dreaming of this night did it involve sitting on a bench in the girls’ locker room, knees pulled up to your chest, while the party carried on in the gym just beyond.

It definitely didn’t involve crying.

The bass beats of the deejay and the harmony of laughter temporarily got louder as the locker room door opened, and then faded back into a muted thumping as the door closed again a second later. You could hear footsteps headed in your direction but before you could unfold yourself and wipe your tears away, a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, there you are!”

Being able to find the words to describe how he looked in his tux, his curls slightly tamed by some gel, the blue rose (of course it would be an off color, why would he pick something standard?) pinned to his lapel, his lopsided grin… Finding the words was nearly impossible.

Of course he would show up now. Because your night wasn’t already crappy enough and half the reason you were sitting there weeping instead of out there dancing was standing right in front of you.

You realized that wasn’t fair. It was probably more like, twenty-five percent of the reason, and it wasn’t his fault. But that didn’t make it any better.

“Why are you in the girls’ locker room, Reeves?” you sniffled.

He furrowed his eyebrows and his nose scrunched up in concern as he took in your mascara-streaked cheeks and puffy red eyes. “One of your friends said you came in here like half an hour ago and nobody’s seen you since. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Clearly not.” He sat down next to you. “Wanna talk about it?”

A deep, shaky sign left your chest. You didn’t really want to talk about how, earlier in the evening, you’d excused yourself to use the restroom and come back to the gym to find Theo dancing with...you didn’t remember her name, nor did you care. You didn’t mind that he was dancing with another girl, in theory, but it was another matter entirely when his hands were on her ass and she was sucking a deep purple mark into his neck. And he was laughing.

A short, vicious argument ensued in the coat room after you’d cut in and dragged him off by the elbow. And it turned out that he’d been seeing whats-her-name for months, somehow, behind your back while pretending that everything was perfect with you. When he was supposedly visiting his grandparents? He was with her. When he had to work an extra shift? He was with her. When he got off the phone with you, saying he needed to get to bed early? He was calling her.

Prom wasn’t supposed to involve a very public break-up.

And things didn’t get any better when, deciding you needed something to drink, you went back into the gym and immediately saw Reeves and Randie, dancing cheek to cheek, arms snugly wrapped around each other as a soft, romantic song wafted through the air. Because of course he was with her. She was his girlfriend and Reeves wasn’t a detestable cheating asshole.

There was always another her.

You couldn’t handle it.

So you took off to somewhere almost guaranteed to be empty. You figured the locker room wasn’t really the kind of place kids would want to make out, and you were right. It was blessedly empty. Until now.

But you couldn’t tell him the second part, so you just went with the first. His eyes got wide as you blubbered through the sordid details of Theo being a complete and utter twat. Another quivery sob half-burst from you and Reeves got up. He grabbed a few paper towels from the dispenser and handed them to you as he sat back down.

“Thanks,” you hiccuped.

“I never liked him,” Reeves announced.

You found yourself choking on a huff of air. “What? Yes you did! Everybody loved him. That’s what makes it extra shitty.”

“Did you?”

“What?”

Reeves cocked his head and looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. “Did you love him?”

Your mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. Why did you always seem to forget how to make words when Reeves asked you questions?

“What?”

He shrugged. “Everyone else loved him. Did you?”

You used every last ounce of willpower you had to not jump up on that bench and shout that of course you didn’t love Theo, you idiot, because I love you.

That would not make this night any easier.

The next thing you knew, Reeves put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, hugging you soundly. He rested his cheek on the top of your head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re better off without him.”

You dabbed at your eyes. Nope, still couldn’t make words.

Minutes, hours, days. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, pressed to him and feeling him breathe beneath you. You no longer had any idea how long it had even been since everything crashed around you and he’d come to try and help you pick up the pieces. You just listened to his heartbeat, strong and steady, as the muffled music and joyful shouts of classmates went on past the closed door.

Finally he spoke again. “Hey, you wanna get one of those complimentary pictures?”

“What?” Oh, great. You were finally able to answer his question but you could still only come up with that one word? Stupid brain.

“Well, I…” he sat up straight and, after the briefest look into your eyes, he glanced away. Was he blushing? You weren’t sure. “I always kind of...I kind of thought we’d have a prom picture together. I mean, I just figured, y’know, we’d go with a bunch of friends, but I always hoped I’d get a picture with my best friend.”

The sniffles were back in an instant. Damn him. “Reeves, I...you really want to get a picture now? I look horrible, I can’t get a picture taken like this!”

He took the paper towel from your hand and gently dabbed at your cheeks. “You couldn’t look horrible if you tried. Come on, it’ll be fun. And just think how excited your mom will be when she gets a copy of it.”

Despite your best efforts, you had to laugh. “Okay.”

You headed to the photo area after you washed your face, Reeves helped you wipe off the stray streaks of mascara, and you reapplied just a bit of makeup to make yourself feel better. You were never sure what Reeves said to the photographer before the shots, but he seemed quite happy to take multiples. Reeves stayed pressed against your back with his arms down around your waist, hands clasped together in front of you, for each and every one.

At some point between the second and third shot, he leaned just a little closer into you and you suddenly felt his breath against your ear. “Like what you see?”

For maybe the first time that entire night, your face broke into a genuine smile. “Maybe.”

For a few minutes, your night was absolutely perfect.

The Present.

It was the greatest date that never was.

“No, Reeves was not my prom date,” you told your friends with a shake of your head.

You left out most of the other details, partly because you didn’t want to answer eight hundred questions from Vanessa and partly because, well, you just wanted those moments for yourself.

After the pictures, Reeves had asked if you would like to dance. Until then you didn’t realize it was possible for eyebrows to shoot that far up a person’s forehead, but yours were up for the challenge. You’d mumbled something about if Randie would mind, because you were sure she absolutely would, but he brushed it off. Randie had gone off with her friends when he came to find you, and he really wanted to dance with you, just one dance with his frog murder accomplice. And he said that with a straight face and a twinkle in his eye and there was no way you could refuse.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

One dance turned into two, and then several, until the girlfriend in question finally did show back up and Reeves was pulled away, leaving you with a soft smile and a mouthed “sorry”.

Definitely the greatest never-date.

After prom, life returned to what vaguely resembled normal. Your love life sucked and Reeves still had a girlfriend that wasn’t you, and you didn’t see him much. To be fair, the end of senior year and graduation did creep up pretty fast so there wasn’t a lot of time anyway. Graduation was there before you knew it; he cheered for you and you cheered for him as you each walked across the stage. You made brief appearances at each others’ graduation parties and talked a bit and then, once again before you knew what happened next, it was time to leave for college.

You went back to New York. Reeves stayed on the west coast.

And over the years, like so many other people before you and after you, you just fell out of touch.

“And anyway,” you asserted, “we were just kind of friends. Yeah, like I told Alexis before, we were lab partners sophomore year, and we hung out sometimes, but that was it. Really.”

Alexis snorted and Vanessa narrowed her eyes. “Mmmhmm.”

You threw the pillow back at her. “Mmmhmm.”

“All right, you two,” Alexis chided. “Come on, let’s get going.”

Somehow, you managed to get down to Greenwich Village without further interrogation and minimal shenanigans.

The Present. One Hour Later. Another Saturday Night.

The bar inside the club was pretty packed. Granted, it was a Saturday night down in The Village, so it wasn’t too uncommon, but you were honestly surprised that this many people showed up for a punk retrospective.

There were a few other relatively big-name acts you recognized on the bill, and a fair number of people were wearing t-shirts with Reeves’s most recent album cover on the front. There were even a few that had shirts with his face on it, which was frankly kind of weird.

“Looks like you’re not his only number one fan,” Vanessa smirked.

“I just enjoy his music,” you said off-handedly as you tried to flag down a bartender. “But anyway, tonight isn’t even about him. We’re just here to support charity, right?”

Alexis pretended to agree with you. “Right.”

You glared at both of them before turning your attention back to the bar. Yes, you came to every one of his shows in the area. When you had time. When you could take the night off. When you could rearrange your schedule and switch shifts at the last minute and promise favors to be able to attend them. When you maybe once or twice just called out sick because nothing else worked. So what.

They were really starting to get on your nerves.

The bartender finally noticed you and took your order, and you looked around the club again while you waited.

Lots of people, ranging from just-allowed-to-buy-booze to mid-sixties businessmen. A few folks that looked to currently be in their golden years but were clearly once punks in their prime. Many people in black and chains and mohawks and neon hair and piercings, to the point where you honestly couldn’t tell who was a performer and who was a patron.

The one person you were looking for was the one that you couldn’t pick out of the crowd.

“He’s gotta be here somewhere!” Vanessa’s voice shouted from somewhere behind your shoulder.

“Vanessa, you’re getting a little weird about this,” you called back as you grabbed your drink and turned around.

“Like what you see?”

Eyes wide and mouth slightly hanging open, you almost dropped your full glass.

Vaguely, nearby, you heard the sound of glass shattering and shot a glance to your left. Alexis really had dropped her drink, and Vanessa was clutching onto her arm for dear life. She was holding her glass at a slightly odd angle and the contents were dripping onto one of her shoes.

The crowd silently pulsed backwards as one, clearing out around the four of you for a respectable distance. Several people watched curiously; surprisingly, they just stood back and stared instead of trying to get involved.

Reason Number One why you really couldn’t blame them: Reeves stood there, right in front of you. Literally less than two feet away, looking right at you. His mouth pulled up into his familiar lopsided grin, his hair still dark but shot through with strands of silver, curly on the top and shorter on the sides. His nose with the little dent, perfect on his face under those dark, luminous brown eyes and...holy shit, was he wearing eyeliner? He was wearing eyeliner.

Reason Number Two why you really couldn’t blame them: Leather pants. Under his old, faded t-shirt and black leather jacket (you were used to seeing him in brown, but you had to admit the black looked good) he was wearing leather pants.

Reason Number Three why you really couldn’t blame them: Quite simply, Reeves was standing in the middle of a bar in New York City and he was talking to you.

You blinked once, then twice. You may have blinked more times but all you could think about was the fact that, after all these years, your brain still couldn’t make words when Reeves asked you a question.

That same old question.

Suddenly you were grinning back, completely ignoring your friends and their dumbfounded squawking and sputtering next to you. You were smiling because even though your brain couldn’t make full sentences of words, it could pull one particular word out of the void and let it come out past your lips.

“Maybe.”

Reeves grinned fully now, his eyes lighting up and the crinkles at the corners deepening.

Someone - maybe Vanessa, maybe a total stranger, you couldn’t be sure - might have swooned from the sidelines.

“Always told you I wanted to come to New York,” he said.

“Always told you I’d go back.”

And the next thing you knew, the next thing that made any sense anywhere in your mind, was that Reeves had stepped forward, wrapped his arms around you, and placed the softest, sweetest, most heart-achingly gentle kiss on your lips.

You pulled away in a daze, felt the heat rising in your cheeks, as you heard a muffled choking sound halfway behind you. Definitely Vanessa.

Alexis and Vanessa’s eyes, already bugging out of their faces, nearly fell out of their sockets when Reeves turned to address them.

“Hey, ladies. I’ll come talk to you after the show, but for now, I just need to borrow your friend for a few minutes, okay?”

There were somehow still more bizarre, mostly inhuman noises that came out of your friends and even later, when they’d deny ever acting like that in front of a famous rock star (and rolled their eyes at you when you corrected them that he was a musician, not a rock star), it wouldn’t matter because you weren’t paying a single bit of attention to them them anyway.

You only had eyes for one person.

He took your hand and pulled you past the bar, into a little room in the back; the office, presumably. The second you were both inside, he wrapped his arms around your waist and looked you in the eyes. He just stared for a few minutes, or maybe hours, you weren’t sure.

It really didn’t matter.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” he whispered.

“Third day of school, fourth period biology class, sophomore year?”

Reeves smiled softly. “The second you walked in that door.”

“Why didn’t you?” you tilted your head to look at him. Okay, to gaze into his eyes. You tilted your head to gaze into his eyes and your subconscious hoped to any gods that would listen that you did not have actual hearts or stars in your pupils.

Not that it really mattered.

His arms never left you but he gave a little shrug. “Never seemed to be the right time. And then I had a girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “And I ended up with that lame excuse for a boyfriend. But do you know how long I’ve wanted you to do that?”

“When you couldn’t stop staring at me when you sat down at the lab table next to me?”

“Hmmm, maybe. But definitely when you told the teacher we had to have a funeral for Lenny.”

“Hey, Lenny was a fuckin’ hero,” Reeves batted his eyes at you innocently. “He performed a brave and great service to his country.”

“I am oddly happy you’re still an idiot,” you giggled.

“I’m ecstatic that you kept coming to all my shows in the city.”

You pulled back slightly and looked at the ceiling. “You noticed?”

Reeves gave you that look. That look he always gave you, when you were teenagers, when you said something either completely ridiculous or completely profound. That look he gave you when he thought you might not be looking, even though you were always looking. That look that said he always had your back and you were his best friend. That look that you thought you’d be lucky to see one more time but probably never would.

That look.

��Of course I noticed. I thought about having security make you stay back, but that’s just...no. You always looked happy, and I don’t know...I just didn’t want to intrude, I guess? Just always wondered why you never stuck around after the shows, never stayed to talk to me, never came knocking on the dressing room door.”

You thought about that for a minute. You really did try, but you couldn’t come up with a decent answer. You were happy. Just seeing him was enough, you told yourself. Just hearing him sing was enough, just being in the same room with him, just being near. Just like it was back in high school.

Only it wasn’t high school anymore, and now that he’d finally, finally - after years of would’ve and should’ve and maybes - kissed you, you knew enough wasn’t going to be, well, enough.

So that’s what you told him.

And Reeves pulled you close, leaned in closer, and kissed you again.

You pulled apart, breathless again, and rested your foreheads together.

After minutes, or maybe days, or maybe hours, and definitely years - it didn’t really matter - Reeves was there. You were there. And for once, you were really there together.

“Like what you see?”

“...definitely.”

The Future. Any Day. Every Day.

You always thought, and your friends always said, that the best years of your life happened in high school. And to a certain extent, that was true and you believed in that notion for a very long time.

But ever since that night, that one glorious night in a Manhattan bar, you realized you were wrong.

The best years of your life were still happening.

~end~

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maverickcalf · 3 years

Note

PLEASE go on about GooseMavCarol

Alright let me just throw out my thoughts and see where this goes. Long post so it's under the cut!

First off, Goose and Carol I imagine met sometime during break from school (junior year leading into senior year) and were just friends for a bit. Carol actually surprised Goose by sending him care packages and letters. So by thanksgiving break they decide to get engaged. Marrying after Goose and Carol had graduated. It was hard for them to be away from each other but they loved each other dearly, so they make it work. Along the way they have their son Bradly and both of them come out to each other as not straight. Goose for some reason decided to do so when Carol was in the middle of a shower. To this day Goose has no idea why he decide to tell her right that he doesn't only like women. (Mav does laugh his head off latter when Goose tells him that's how he came out.) Carol came out to Goose later that night when they went on a evening walk. They honestly fins that nothing changes between the two of them, but they do feel happier around each other. Things seem pretty set in stone.

Then Goose meets Maverick.

Now Maverick is aggressive when Goose first meets him. To Maverick's credit he expects Goose to be like all the RIOs always on his ass when in the air, telling him to focus up and be more careful. And while Goose is nervous about some of the stuff he does, it is clear that Maverick does know what he is doing. So he does what he does best and makes light of the situation and starts to crack jokes. And to his surprise; Maverick doesn't tell him that he needs to be more serious. In fact it seems to take the edge off for both of them. Flying becomes more fun again.

It only becomes clear to Goose why Maverick was so aggressive when he learns more about his life. Had Goose heard of Duke Mitchell? Yeah sure, but Mitchell wasn't an uncommon name, Goose didn't want to assume. He doesn't have to assume for long; when Maverick has to deal with some sailors giving Maverick a hard time about it, to his face for some messed up reason. Goose very rarely raised his voice, mostly because it comes out as more of well, a honk. But he did it to tell those guys off.

Maverick was a lot more open after that and filled in a lot of gaps in his past that Goose had assumed but hoped weren't true. Turns out they were. Maverick Mitchell didn't have any family. Being bounced around from foster home to foster home after his father, and then mother's passing. He didn't even have very many friends growing up as he had habit of putting up walls to avoid being hurt.

So Goose makes up his mind to help Maverick, the world may have turned his back on Pete Mitchell but Nick Bradshaw sure wasn't going to. They became friends.

When Maverick first met Carol on a weekend trip, he was a much happier person and she took to him at once. Sure he was rebellious but he was also a good third parent and was a lot of fun to be around, basically if Goose or Carol wanted to do something, Maverick was down for it at once. This often left them tired and by the last night they all ended up passing out on the couch after putting Bradley to bed. Carol, who had woken up first that morning, reflects to Goose that it was very nice, with Maverick there in the morning. Goose doesn't know how to feel about that.

Goose still keeps his distance physically. He doesn't want to spook off his friend, not knowing how the young pilot felt about not straight folks. He doesn't let Maverick get touch starved but he doesn't give him long hugs. But in the back of his mind, he is still thinking about what Carol said.

Their second trip on leave is longer, leaving more time for Goose to reflect. This reflection is also added by the fact that during this time they come out to each. And he comes to the conclusion that, he wants Maverick to know that he always has a home here always. And that, he loves him. Maybe not in the romance way, but not quite in the friend way. He asks Carol what her thoughts are and say tell him that they should have told him that months ago.

Maverick is in total disbelief at first, he hasn't had anyone one tell him he loves him in a long time, and even the memories of that were fading away. But to Goose's surprise, Maverick says it back. Carol is overjoyed and is happy to have her two fellas.

After that every time they get time together, they spend it together. Maverick does tend to leave them alone for more sexual things. But Goose and Carol say that they would be fine with any romantic partner Maverick chooses and will be willing to work them in no matter what. Still for now everything fits and everyone is happy.

#poly goosemavcarol #goose x carol #qpr goosemav #qpr mavcarol #very few people are straight in my top gun headcanons #long post #this is mostly a history post because it got away from me #hope this wasn't too much #yes I put my fic canon in there passively #what of it?#negativeghostriderr

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galaxina-the-pyro · 3 years

Text

Here, have some PnF School related HCs!

-Phineas isn’t the best in school, not because he doesn’t know the subjects, but more due to the fact that, as a creative kid out to break boundaries, school simply doesn’t interest him. He’s not the best at following instructions, and will often lose points in assignments for taking creative angles. He excels at math (to the point of correcting his teachers on a few incorrect equations), and his weakest subject is Grammar. He never fails a class, usually passing at a C point average. He does do well on tests, however (to the point where he has been accused of cheating).

-Phineas claims he can understand subjects better when Ferb (and Isabella) explains it to him

-Ferb and Baljeet always get A’s in their assignments, and take their study time seriously (Baljeet most of all; Ferb doesn’t mind getting anything lower than an A, but will feel shame if he feels he could’ve done better, while Baljeet will go into panic mode if he gets anything less than A+).

-In hindsight, Ferb is actually far more intelligent than Baljeet, but prefers to stay in the same grade as his brother; he was even given the option to move up grade levels, but politely refused

-In spite of Isabella eye rolling Baljeet’s fear of failure, she has similar meltdowns when she fails an assignment (to which Baljeet offers zero sympathy; do unto others, baby)

-Baljeet attends Highschool with Candace, Stacy, and the others, though Buford still manages to bully him even at such a radius. He does, however, tutor students in the school his friends go to, so he always sees his friends during after school activities.

-Phineas and Ferb always end up in the same classes every year...except for the school year after the canon series. That marks the first time both of them end up in different classes.

-There are school related patches for the Fireside Girls to earn, and as the episode “Ferb TV” states, being a part of the Fireside Girls gets you extra credit in middle school

-Out of all her friends, Isabella is part of the most extracurricular activities, including but not limited to, Debate Team, Junior Student Government, Mathletes, Glee Club, Drama Club, and of course Soccer

-Isabella is the head editor of the school newspaper, which she names “The Danville Eagle” (not to be confused with “The Fireside Gazette”)

-Isabella is the most prone to daydreaming during class, and often zones out; usually this is due to Phineasland, but her mind tends to drift to other places as well.

-Phineas, on the other hand, always distracts himself with drawing during classes, whether it be blueprints, or doodles in his textbooks - he often has his pencils and pens confiscated

-Buford tends to be the one most likely to interrupt the class for some reason or another; apparently it’s a requirement in The Bully Code, but everyone is certain he does it purely out of boredom

-Django and Jenny are both homeschooled, though Django does end up going to highschool with Phineas and the others

-Jenny only takes one college class before dropping out to continue her hippie/protest lifestyle; ironically, she starts a business that goes very well involving the buying and selling of...well...a certain type of plant, per se

-Buford has the lowest grade point average among his friends, but excels in art-related activities (and contact sports, of course); it’s very possible that he’s smarter than he lets on

-Buford is the only person among Phineas and Ferb’s friends who doesn’t join the school soccer team (this is due to confusing the sport with football)

-Recess time in the Dwampyverse is longer than recess in the real world (they already have longer Summers, so why not?), explaining how Phineas and Ferb can still complete certain Big Ideas during that time; they usually come up with ideas during or before lunchtime

-According to “When Worlds Collide”, Candace isn’t allowed to bust her brothers during the school year, but manages to find a loophole that allows her to attempt to bust them during Weekends (bar that she and her brothers finish their homework beforehand), and School Breaks. Linda often ponders over rewriting the Bust Accord, but is a mother of her word.

-Phineas and Ferb have a teacher who hates their existence, and is literally their antithesis; he sees their creative activities as a form of rebellion, and craves structure and discipline. On the other hand, he’s a total sadist and a crackpot who’d give Denzel Crocker a run for his money. Phineas and Ferb, much like towards their sister’s busting attempts, pay him no mind and probably treat him better than anyone else does.

-Phineas and Ferb are always paired up in school assignments; they’ve never gotten a perfect score on it in spite of how impeccable each project is, due to the assignment involving both participants giving short lectures. As we all know, Phineas always does all the talking, thus deducting points (this was a headcanon stolen from someone else, but I forget who)

-Phineas and Isabella’s favorite subject is music, Ferb’s is history, Baljeet’s is math, and Buford’s favorite subject is theatre (though he’ll always tell you it’s football, even though it’s not an actual subject)

-Ferb and Baljeet are on the A honor roll, Isabella is an AB honor roll (her weakest subject being history, the only subject keeping her from being on the same level as Ferb and Baljeet), Phineas is a C-average, and Buford is an F average (though he always gets just enough passes to make it to the next grade with his friends)

-Out of all the Fireside Girls, Gretchen excels the most in school, while Katie is on the lower end of the spectrum alongside Buford

-Candace always tries to sit next to Jeremy during classes they’re together, but someone always steals her seat before she can

-Candace’s favorite class is music class, like Phineas and Isabella, and is on the AB honor roll; her least favorite subject is home economics, due to always failing assignments while also somehow, someway setting herself on fire

-Candace’s grades are better than Phineas’, but worse than Ferb’s. Out of the three Flynn-Fletcher children Phineas has the hardest time with school

-Doofenshmirtz becomes a school teacher regardless of the Prof. Time/secret agent nonsense; he either becomes one due to community service, as a coverup for being an agent for OWCA, or by complete and total accident due to teleporting Vanessa’s real highschool teacher to another dimension

-He ALSO somehow becomes the defacto school counselor (I think he’d be really good at it, darn it); a lot of the kids seem to vent to him a lot for some reason (he thinks it’s the universe making him pay them back for ranting to Perry for so long [they also like to vent to his daughter, too, isn’t that weird?])

-Either way, Vanessa will always have him as a teacher, much to her dismay; the difference is whether Candace and her friends are ALSO a part of his class or not

-Doofenshmirtz sometimes does fun little experiments with Phineas, Ferb, and their friends, and has even helped them with a few of their projects after school

-Doofenshmirtz still uses his Inators during class, though he claims they are specifically used for GOOD this time around...even though they cause a whole slew of problems

-Due to these Inators, Perry has to involve himself and save everyone without revealing his identity to Candace or his other owners should they and their friends somehow get involved with the chaos (thank the great Platypus Lord for Stacy and her being somehow skilled at covering his beaver-butt)

-At some point, the entire PnF cast unintentionally reenact the events of “The One Thing”; Adyson is the one who steals antique photos specifically because they’re “the one thing you can’t replace”

-Phineas and Isabella have study dates together (Isabella is the only one who calls it a study date, however, though technically Phineas never corrects her, so it’s pretty much a study date, don’t you dare take this away from her, Ginger!)

(I’m probably gonna add more later, but feel free to add some of your own school-themed headcanons~.)

#phineas and ferb #headcanons #pnf #phineas and ferb headcanons #hcs #Phinabella #school

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liquorisce · 3 years

Text

reading between the lines (High School Years, Ch 2)

pairing: eren x mikasa (shingeki no kyojin) // mild erehisu, yumihisu

rating: t

summary: (modern au) Junior year is difficult, especially for Mikasa, because it turns out Eren’s decided to test the dating scene.

(banter, jealousy... and lots of feelings)

part 1 | read on ao3

A/N: this chapter has been a long time coming (5 years omg), and tbh I have a lovely anon to thank, who messaged me asking for a sequel to hsy, which made me actually want to put down my scrambled headcanons on paper. if you're reading this anon, i'm truly grateful for the push you gave me.

NOTE: although i intended a sequel, this is a COMPANION fic to chapter 1, it is meant to fill up the gaps in the story that the previous chapter didnt tell you. i hope you enjoy :)

Today was not one of Eren’s favourite days, for 2 reasons. For one, the day started off with … an encounter. Two, today they would be getting the results of their final trig assessment, which Eren knows perfectly well he didn’t have a chance of passing.

The ‘encounter’ happens pretty much without preamble.

…

“… Hey, it’s Eren, right?” He turns around from his conversation with Armin, to see the same guy from a couple of weeks ago, the one who was talking about Mikasa, and her pretty hair. (he wasn’t wrong)

“Yeah?” He does his best not to let the subconscious irritation seep into his tone.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot the other day,” the guy with the oddly horse-shaped face says, “… My name’s Jean.”

“… Nice to meet you,” he says awkwardly delivering his dishonest words.

“… So, I wanted to be straight up with you,” Jean says, cheeks oddly pink. “About Mikasa… and you. I’ve heard some rumours, and I thought it best to address it with you directly, because I really don’t want to cause any trouble.” Clearing his throat, he says, “Are you guys… y’know, together?”

It’s in the way Jean speaks, he thinks, or the way he talks about Mikasa (or even thinks of her?) - it makes him want to ram his fist right in the middle of his ugly face. And because he was too busy clenching his fists to actually respond, Armin says with a laugh, “… Ah, don’t worry, Mikasa is totally single.”

And then proceeds to wink at Jean.

Eren can barely believe his eyes and ears. And once Jean is out of earshot he hisses, “… what the fuck, Armin?”

Armin blinks up at him innocently. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“… You didn’t have to encourage him,” Eren mumbles petulantly, when he admits to himself that Armin did, in fact, say nothing wrong.

“Erm, why not?” He sighs, “Look, I know you… worry about Mikasa,” Armin keeps his tone as neutral and veiled as possible, because worried is definitely not all Eren feels for Mikasa, “… but Jean is a good guy! And if anyone deserves attention from a good guy, it’s her.”

…

ii.

She finds him lurking near his locker, stuffing his crumpled papers in, probably wishing away their existence.

“That bad, huh?” She asks, hiding away her grin at his predictable reaction. Eren has always been predisposed too sulking - whether he was a 7-year-old who wasn’t the fastest on the field or 16-something and having just received his trigonometry results.

“… You look like you did just fine,” he mutters, not having to see the A+ on her paper to know that Mikasa had no problem acing the trig test (or any other test).

“You could just ask me for help, Eren. I could help you out for the retakes,” she offers softly, not for the first time.

He sighs. When he glances at her, dark eyes offering earnestly, he knows she means it without any pride or arrogance, but he isn’t able to suppress the prick of his own ego that has him mumbling, “… the mandatory remedial lessons should do just fine.”

…

iii.

When he shows up for class, he sees only a couple of others unfamiliar faces, so he curses under his breath at his own ineptitude towards mathematics for getting him in this situation and takes a spot at the back of the class.

The Support teacher - Erd, he calls himself, apparently too young to be addressed ‘Mr.’ or any of that - seems just as tired as the rest of them, sighing at the lack of answers, obviously frustrated at the complete lack of interest or gratitude of the teenagers in front of him.

So, 20 minutes into the 1-hour lesson, when the short blonde walks in, out-of-breath and apologetic, the sarcasm in his tone is biting. “You’ve already missed 1/3rd of this class, you might as well have stayed out entirely and practiced your cheer routines.”

Eren watches sympathetically at the visible cringe on Krista’s face and offers her an empathetic smile as she takes the seat next to him.

Later when they’ve been informed that the retake is just an assignment filled with proofs and average difficulty problems that they can do in pairs, he looks at Krista, the only known person in the room.

They weren’t that close, but they had quite a few mutual friends what with him playing basketball and her being part of the cheer team. So, when she says, “… see you at the library tomorrow evening?” with a pretty smile across her pretty features, he grins gratefully.

She doesn’t struggle with trig even half as much as he does. In fact, she seemed to be happy to do most of the work herself and explain her solutions - if he actually had the interest to understand them.

“I don’t understand,” he admits after she solves the 5th problem in a row effortlessly, “you seem to have everything down already. How come you didn’t pass the test?”

Her eyes skittered nervously away from him. “I was… sick,” she mutters. “I couldn’t really focus.”

He eyes her closely, observing the sudden change in her countenance. Usually Krista was all easy smiles, twinkle in her blue eyes. Now, she looks uneasy, unwell almost. Deciding it wasn’t his place to pry, “… Well, I guess I turned out to be the lucky one in all this,” he grins, “… I get to hang out with you and have you do my assignment.”

She rolls her eyes. To be honest, she’d enjoyed the past couple of evenings with him. Eren was easy to talk to, despite being somewhat of an airhead and being completely incapable of anything remotely math related. But regardless, he made her laugh and just about forget what happened the morning before she showed up for this test, with fresh tears choking her throat, and purpling bruises on her thighs.

“I guess you owe me then,” she quips back, smugly.

“… I definitely do,” he says smoothly, green eyes watching her in a way that makes her feel warm. “How can I make it up to you?”

Flustered, because she hadn’t expected his easy response, she mumbles, “… Dinner?” And with red cheeks hidden by her blonde bangs, she whispers, “I like pizza.”

…

iv.

She finds him at the end of the day, on one of the wooden tables outside the basketball court, chin resting in his hands, eyes glued to his laptop.

“… Hey,” she breathes, giggling when startled green eyes flash up to her, body jerking in surprise.

“Damn, you got me,” he grins, pushing his laptop away and leaning up for a brief kiss. She’s happy to return it, and she lets her fingers wind into his hair, enjoying it for a moment longer.

“Mmm,” she mumbles, “I saw you closing that browser window,” she teases, wrestling control of his laptop, “watcha lookin’ at?”

When she manages to open his browser history – much to Eren’s protest – her eyes widen. “Women’s dresses, spring collection??” She waggles her eyebrows at him.

“… It’s not for me,” he grumbles, deciding to make it painstakingly clear before Krista enthusiastically begins to tell him what dress would suit him the most – he knows his girlfriend, crossdressing would be absolutely acceptable, if not encouraged – and he watches her eyes feign disappointment.

“… Boring,” she sighs, rolling her pretty blue eyes, “I don’t see how you’re not curious about how you look in a dress,” – she gasps, hand flying over her mouth, “Wait… was that… a surprise… for me?”

“… Um,” Eren starts, intelligently, because the situation that was already awkward in his opinion, just became even more so. “Well,” he gulps, taking in the sparkle in her eyes, knowing fully well just how much she likes surprises, feeling guilty even thought he needn’t be, “itsformikasa.”

He hangs his head in apparent apology, but more so because he doesn’t want to see the disappointment flit across her features.

“… Oh.”

He chances a glance at her, and there’s no particular emotion per se, and it worries him, because she gets this faraway look in her eye sometimes, and he can’t really tell what’s going on, and they’ve only been together a few months and he’s not an expert in reading her silences –

“I see, is it for her birthday or something?” Her tone is measured, and she’s looking pointedly at the screen.

“Um… yeah.” Eren sighs, wondering what the hell was up with his own reaction. He had nothing to feel guilty about – where did that even come from anyway? – Mikasa’s his… family (or something). Shopping for her was normal. He did it every year. This isn’t something he needed to hide.

“Yeah, it’s next month,” he says, giving her a smile. There was no need for this to be awkward if he didn’t make it so. Besides, it wasn’t like he was buying her lingerie or something! (he brushed this thought aside faster than the red blush crept up his neck)

“Do you think, you could help me with it?” He blurts this out, partially in an attempt to distract the weird atmosphere, and also partially because he could really use the help.

Krista blinks. “Err, yeah. Sure.” She pulls up Mikasa’s profile on Instagram. “Let’s see,” she murmurs… Turtlenecks… Jeans… a ridiculously modest swimsuit that she wore to a pool party two years ago. The sexiest outfit on her entire profile was probably her in her tennis shorts and that had more to do with Mikasa’s undeniably ripped body than anything else.

She looks up at Eren, who’s still looking at her tentatively, green eyes unsure.

This whole thing was silly anyway, she thinks, offering him a genuine smile. He and Mikasa were close (and they lived together, which she did her best not to think about), but this wasn’t a surprise so it’s about time that it came up in some way in their relationship. In any case, she hadn’t felt any hostility from the raven-haired beauty and Eren was usually quite forthcoming about everything, so she didn’t really have anything to worry about.

“So, um, does she have a favourite colour or something?” She’s eager to kill the awkward mood and is grateful to see his shoulders visibly relax as he ponders.

“… Red, I think. Maybe, like, a darker shade. Sort of… maroon, y’know?” He thinks of the scarf he gave Mikasa when they were younger. It was a ratty, yet fluffy maroon thing which she was absolutely terrible at tying, but she wears it everywhere during the winter, even though his father had a bought her a better one at some point.

They peruse their options for a bit, and Krista picks out a deep red number, a shimmery satin one, with slinky straps and a slit that travels up an already high hemline. It wasn’t really a spring dress but more of a cocktail night outfit, and Eren is weirdly embarrassed thinking of Mikasa in it.

He eyes the screen incredulously. “… Somehow, I just can’t picture Mikasa wearing something like that.” He opens up another link, to a denim overall dress, “… now this, she would wear.”

“And that,” Krista retorts, “is why she’s still single. She has an amazing body; she should flaunt it.”

“… What would she wear it to?” Eren asks, unconvinced. (Also, what was wrong with Mikasa being single?) “… Student council meetings? Debate competitions?! I just,” –

“Parties, Eren,” she says, exasperated, “… it’s high school!”

“You know she doesn’t” –

“Drag her to some! C’mon, we’re going to be seniors soon. She’ll thank you for it!”

…

Six hours later, she’s closing up her shift at her part-time job. It’s a job she’d rather keep hidden – from her friends at school and the law – because she isn’t sure what the age policy was in these kinds of establishments. It worked out because it was close enough to home, and between her and the bartender, the tips compensated the poor wages. Plus, the bartender – a slightly older girl named Ymir with a pretty fringe and a sharp tongue – was genuinely fan to hang out with. And she was surprisingly protective of the small blonde, particularly with the rougher customers, whom Ymir scared off quite effectively with her glares.

“So,” she says, as she scrubs the counter clean, “… I helped my boyfriend buy a dress today.”

She doesn’t turn back to see her, but she can hear Ymir’s raised eyebrows as she says, cheekily, “… I didn’t realize you guys were into that stuff.”

Snorting, she replies, “Well that would be interesting. But no, it was for his, um, friend. Or something.” Or something, because sometimes Eren refers to Mikasa as his best friend, sometimes his family, and sometimes it just felt like… something else, basically.

She turns around to look at Ymir, who says nothing, continuing to rinse the rest of the glasses. “Her name’s Mikasa,” she continues, her voice getting oddly unsure, “They’ve known each other forever. They even… live together.”

“… What,” Ymir stares at her in disbelief.

“It’s not like that,” Krista finds herself sounding defensive, “Eren’s dad is her guardian… or something. Has been for some years. So, it’s not like they moved in together…”

She elects to skip the part where Eren’s dad is a doctor with Doctors without Borders and is barely home for more than a couple of months a year. She didn’t like the look Ymir was giving her anyway.

“So… they’re like brother-sister or what?”

“No,” she says, realizing that the word came out more vehement than she intended. But she knows that was definitely not the way Eren saw their relationship.

“… Krista,” Ymir starts, and the blonde can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s going to get all protective on her, “… I know you’re in high school, and… you’re dating – as you should – but you don’t have to waste your time on shady boys.”

At this she laughs because, “Eren’s not shady, he’s a nice guy,” –

“… You could get anyone you want; I mean look at you, you’re beautiful.”

The defense that was bubbling up in her throat suddenly stilled, because there’s something about the way Ymir just said that – called her beautiful – earnestly, quietly, and it made her feel funny. It took her breath away for a very brief second and replaced it with a warm flush that creeps up her neck.

It’s strange, she’s heard it before from so many boys with obvious motivations; Eren’s always calling her pretty, and complimenting her eyes or whatever… But when Ymir said it, and looked at her like that, honey brown eyes, deep with unnamed emotion, all she could do was avert her eyes.

…

vi.

It’s 7pm and the library’s home only to the nerds by now. The librarian is lax (and underpaid) enough to ignore the low buzz of two over-enthusiastic AP chemistry students that grates on Mikasa’s ears.

Ordinarily she’d just plug her earphones in and ignore the world to focus on the assignment at hand. But today she accepts anything to distract her from the scene earlier at home. And even though Armin’s sitting right next to her, supposedly doing his own thing, she doesn’t miss the worried glances he sends her every now and then, which she really doesn’t want to address.

Her feelings for Eren were a well-known secret by now, just as well-known as the fact that he clearly didn’t return those feelings, so she wasn’t particularly in the mood for Armin’s indulgent pity… regardless of how well-intentioned it was.

So, when its 8pm and the librarian is shooing them out, and she bumps into Jean, she’s grateful for the few extra minutes of conversation surrounding absolutely nothing important.

When they continue to the parking lot, their conversation having progressed from awkward conversation starters to an animated discussion on Jean’s tennis form, Armin’s well and truly realized that he has no place here.

After Armin’s said his goodbyes and Mikasa recognizes that she doesn’t mind staying away from home and possibly Eren and Krista in the middle of their 5th round, she asks Jean, “… so do you like Chinese food?”

…

When she walks in a little after 10 pm, cheeks cold from the night air, there’s a small grin on her cheeks, because she’s made a new friend today, whose company she genuinely enjoyed.

But when she enters the living room to see Eren fast asleep on the couch, she finds herself staring in the face of the reality she’d tried so hard to escape. It’s difficult to ignore the ruffled quality of his brown hair, mussed up in a way that could only have been achieved by someone (a very blonde, very beautiful someone) raking their hands through it.

She can’t help the wave of irritation that sweeps through her - so she doesn’t bother to soften her footsteps as she walks up the wooden stairs.

Minutes later, she hears his sleepy voice at her door. “Hey,” he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice, “you were out pretty late, so I left you some dinner. We made pasta, it’s not as good as yours but,” -

“… I ate already,” she says, tone clipped.

“Oh.” He’s quiet, just watching her put her things away, and there’s irrational tears pricking at her eyes, anger, and frustration that she knows she doesn’t have the right to, so she doesn’t turn to acknowledge him. “… Mikasa, are you…,” he clears his throat, “… is something wrong?”

When she says nothing, he sighs, turning, “… Well, if you want to talk about it, you know I’m always here,” -

“… Could you please go over to Krista’s house next time?”

She colours, surprised at herself for her outburst of honesty. But her blush pales in comparison to Eren’s as he processes what she’s saying. “… This is my house,” he sputters, “… I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to want to bring my girlfriend over.”

“Well, it’s not just ‘bringing her over’, is it?”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “… What I do with Krista, in my personal space, is definitely not your business, Mikasa.”

“It is when I can hear it, Eren,” she retorts, as he shuts the door forcefully behind him.

…

vii.

It’s been two weeks since that… confrontation, and Mikasa’s barely spoken to him since.

She leaves before he does, makes sure dinner’s left out on the stove for him, whether he needs it or not, and locks her door when she’s done. And although he’s found himself staring awkwardly at that shut door multiple times, he’s never had the courage to actually knock.

He simply cannot comprehend this situation because despite the numerous arguments they’ve had in the past - it was always him, whining about something like a petty child and sulking till he got his way - she’d never truly been mad at him. And she’d never, ever, gone days without talking to him. And as he stares at the locker next to his (it was Mikasa’s) with a horrible ache in his chest, he is well and truly sure that he loathes this situation.

So, when small hands reach around his waist, enveloping him in a tight embrace, his subconscious reaction is to jerk back in annoyance. “I didn’t realise it was you,” he murmurs apologetically, rubbing her hands softly.

“… Who else would it be?” Krista asks, somewhat thrown off by this mood that had been festering for days now.

“You ask some very valid questions there, babe,” he mutters, a distracted half-smile on his face.

Taking a deep breath (determined to shake him out of his pensive aura), she whispers, “… You know, I don’t have work today.” She leans against him, reaching up to murmur in his ear, “we could hang out at yours for a while, if you want?”

She makes it clear what she means by “hanging out” by the way she presses up against him, and even though he’s responded with fervent enthusiasm to a similar invitation in the past, today he just averts his gaze, awkwardly.

Swallowing the rejection with a graceful exterior, she puts an arm’s length of distance between them. “… What’s going on, Eren? Your head’s been somewhere else all week.”

And before he starts to stay that it’s nothing, just that he has some stuff going on, she says, “… does this have something to do with Mikasa?”

His green gaze jerks up at her, startled with unfortunate honesty. “… I haven’t seen you talk to her all week.”

“…I,” he starts, but his throat closes up, for some reason, unsure whether he should really tell her what happened. He doesn’t want to put her in the middle of something that was clearly between him and Mikasa.

But with every passing second, the guilty look on his face only begins to feed the fears that she had successfully kept dormant all this while. “… Did something happen between the two of you?”

And when he looks into her eyes, bright blues seeping insecurity, he says, hurriedly, “… wait, I hope you aren’t thinking that we,” - he inhales sharply, wondering how he manages so successfully to upset the women in his life - “God, no. We had a misunderstanding, that’s all. She said something, I was pretty rude to her, and I shouldn’t have been.”

“And,” he murmurs, admitting it to himself, finally, “I’ve just taken too long to apologize.”

…

She’s barely finished washing the vegetables for dinner, when she hears the thud of the front door closing loudly.

(She remembers Carla reprimanding him every time, for not being gentler)

Mikasa has managed to avoid Eren successfully these past days, because she knows his schedule, knows that despite his complete lack of organization, he’s fairly predictable. And with his recent interest in a particular cheerleader, he almost invariably never comes home before 8.30 PM. So, when she hears him enter their kitchen at little over 7, she isn’t prepared.

She isn’t prepared because she’s been quite cowardly, saying things that she had no business saying, and then being unable to own up to it, unable to apologize to him. Because she knew that when she looks at him, she’ll feel the way she feels right now - taking in the sight of him, drizzle droplets fresh in his brown hair, as he runs a hand through it, his mouth twisting into an awkward grin. She knew she’d realize that her feelings for Eren were never really much of a choice, they just were.

“… I brought your favourite dumplings from Li’s,” he announces. “And I brought an extra serving of the spicy soy sauce so we don’t have to fight over who gets the last bit.”

…

He’s grateful for the small smile that forms on her face when she accepts the dumplings (the peace treaty as he calls it in his head), and for the small banter that she indulges him in as they eat.

After they’re stuffed with dumplings and inconsequential conversation, he clears his throat, because he remembers he came home early tonight with a certain conviction.

But as she does with most things, she beats him to it. “… Eren, about the other day,” she looks at him earnestly, “… I had no right to demand that of you. I’m sorry.”

And when he’s still quiet, she mumbles quickly, “I don’t know what got into me that day, honestly, I,” -

“Don’t apologise, Mikasa,” he says, a strange disquiet taking over him as he replays her words, “… the last thing I want, is to make you feel uncomfortable.” Or to make you feel like you can’t demand what you want from me.

This is the part that settles into him slowly, that somehow, the one person in his life that he’s always felt he could ask anything of, could demand anything of, and actually receive it without fail… she didn’t feel that she could count on the same from him. And it twisted painfully inside of him.

“I appreciate that, Eren. But honestly, I’ll get used to it… so don’t worry.” She smiles, in that genuine way of hers, small lips, curving shyly, “… and who knows, maybe someday I’ll want to ‘bring someone over’ too.”

She laughs as she does the air quotes and even though he manages a small grin in response, all he can say, without really meaning it, is –

“Yeah… Of course, yeah.”

…

viii.

She takes her frustration out on the cash register. “… Damn thing doesn’t open when I need it to, and doesn’t close when I want it to,” she mutters under her breath.

“You just need to show it some love,” Ymir says, amused, promptly closing the problematic register without any difficulty. “… Go sit, I’ll close up here.”

She does as she’s told, pouting slightly, but she’s grateful for the older girl’s help and understanding. “So… want a beer before I close the tap?” Ymir asks with a wink.

“You need to stop offering underage girls alcohol,” Krista whispers, scanning the room hastily.

The brunette rolls her eyes. “You need to stop with the innocent act every time. You’re a hot cheerleader for god’s sakes, everyone knows what goes on at your high school parties,” -

“Ok ok,” she acquiesces, suppressing the blush at Ymir’s offhanded compliment and deciding that that there was no point in panicking every time they did this, “… but only if you join me.”

“Cheers,” Ymir says, offering her glass to Krista’s and taking a generous gulp. “So, tell me. Boy trouble, again?”

Krista nurses her drink slowly before taking a sip.

To Krista, Eren was a breath of fresh air. He didn’t hover, he didn’t foam at the mouth every time she spoke to another guy, didn’t hound her if she didn’t pick up his phone call.

Does he even care? Ymir had asked her once scathingly, but she had disregarded it, grateful for the freedom she felt in his embrace. Freedom from toxic attachment, from past trauma or unresolved baggage like the one she was destined to carry. When she was around him, she had felt different. Lighter almost, as if this persona that she had created for herself could actually have a shot at happiness after all.

But lately she’d begun to wonder if she’d just been fooling herself… again. She’d begun to question if she had just convinced herself to see the promise of something that was never there.

“… I thought this guy was one of the good ones,” Ymir says, watching Krista closely.

“He is…” she sighs, “He is one of the good ones. It’s just…” she trails off, unsure if she should give voice to her thoughts. “Ah fuck it, I’m just feeling a little insecure, it’ll be fine…”

“… Is this about that sexy flatmate of his?”

She winces, feeling exposed. It often felt that way with Ymir. Like there was no point to any of the barriers she had worked so hard in constructing.

“She is attractive,” Krista admits, begrudgingly. “… I’m only surprised Eren hasn’t noticed that.”

“… But that’s what you’re worried about, aren’t you? That he has noticed that of late?” Ymir narrows her eyes at Krista. “You should just ask him about it!”

“I did,” she states defensively, “… and he said there was nothing,” -

“… Oh, sure there’s nothing. I can’t believe he thinks he can lie to you and get away with it,” -

“Ymir, I trust him, he’s my boyfriend,” -

“But that’s the problem with you. You just trust everyone, and you let them walk all over you. You did this with Reiner and now with,” -

“Ok,” she whispers, “Stop it, Ymir.”

“… Krista, you need to trust your gut about this sort of thing. If your gut is telling you that he’s a lying asshole, then you should just dump his ass and,” -

“… See this is why I didn’t want to tell you about this,” she cries, her voice rising In frustration. Because this is how it’s always been with Ymir, no one she dates is ever good enough, no decision she makes is ever smart enough.

“You’re always shitting on my boyfriends. And I know you were justified about the last one, but,” her voice cracks just a little bit, because at the end of it all, she just feels weak, “… it feels like you’re just taking a massive crap on me as well.”

“I didn’t mean,” Ymir starts apologetically, brown eyes remorseful, “… look, that wasn’t my intention.”

She takes her hand, slowly, lets her long fingers intertwine with Krista’s smaller, dainty ones. The crumpled expression on Krista’s features has her regretting ever opening her big mouth. But she was tired of seeing one person after another, enter her Krista’s life, and undo the progress she was trying so desperately to make.

“… The truth is,” she takes a deep breath, ready to unleash a truth that’s been stifled for so long, she can’t even remember when it first sprouted, “I think you’re pretty fucking amazing. And I see you wasting all your time and your feelings on these stupid boys who don’t deserve you.” The words come out quickly, rushed almost. A sharp contrast to how long they’ve festered in Ymir’s chest, growing and growing until these feelings knew no reason.

Ymir doesn’t look at her, she keeps her gaze focused on Krista’s hand, afraid of what might happen if Krista understands the depth of feeling behind her words. But more important than her feelings, there were some things she wanted Krista to see clearly.

“Did you tell him about your father, Krista? What he does to you when his wife isn’t looking?”

Krista tugs on her hand, a wave of unbridled panic spreading at the mention of her father. “I trusted you with that information, Ymir, you promised you’d never bring it up,” -

“… Did you tell him your real name?”

She can’t answer this question, even though she knows the answer, knows it’s an emphatic ‘no’ - but she cannot answer because there’s an overwhelming lump in her throat, and it’s taking everything from her to barely keep it together.

“… Let go of me, Ymir,” she pleads, and that’s when Ymir loosens her grip.

“… You trusted me to keep quiet about your secrets - and I’m fine with that. I’m fine with doing anything you ask of me,” her teeth grit together, because she doesn’t know, Krista doesn’t know just how much she would do.

“You asked me not to do anything about the fact that your father is hurting you, and it even though it kills me, I listened to you. But now I see you hurting yourself in this farcical relationship with fabricated feelings for some boy who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve, and I don’t know if I can be quiet about that anymore.”

And because it’s grown too large, too much to keep inside of her anymore, she whispers, “I love you, Historia. And if you want me to let go of you, I will. But,” she brushes her lips gently against Krista’s cheek, “… You can trust me with your secrets, and your heart, if you’d let me, because I could take care of you.” She feels a warm tear roll down Krista’s cheek and her heart clenches, “… I could make you happy.”

…

ix.

“… I really appreciate you making time for this,” she murmurs, as she watches him lay the white lilies at her parent’s grave.

He always remembers, without her prompting, because the first time he’d come with her, she’d spent hours crying at their gravestone, telling him tear-filled anecdotes of the dishes her Mama cooked, the bedtime stories her Papa told, the flowers that they used to grow in their garden together (white lilies).

“C’mon Mikasa,” he rolls his eyes at her, “… we do this every year. Why wouldn’t I make time for this?” And why the hell are you thanking me?

She can’t really explain it to him, the possibly childish notion that she thought he might be too busy with his girlfriend to remember the death anniversary of her parents. She regrets doubting him, regrets that of late she’s been so clouded by petty jealousy, that she hasn’t truly appreciated how little he’s changed around her.

“It’s ridiculous,” she confesses, softly, “… you’ve given me everything. A home… A family.” She smiles at him, somewhat blurry. “But I can’t help it, every year on this day, my mind always goes back to that… moment. I lost them… in what felt like the blink of an eye.”

He tenses, as he always does when he sees her upset, or shedding a tear. There is a fundamental part of him that deeply despises the sadness on her features; it makes him feel helpless. So, he does the only thing he can - he wraps an arm around her, tucking her face into his shoulder as she snuggles into him.

“I miss them every day. But you saved me, Eren,” she whispers, dark eyes looking up at him with a gratefulness that he has never known how to accept, and never felt worthy of. “… and now I have you.”

Her voice trails off, almost wistful. “… I guess the world really can be cruel but beautiful at the same time.”

…

When he stops to think about it, he supposes it really is ridiculous it took them so long to get here. And by here he means - Mikasa wrapped securely in his arms, in his lap, on their couch, taking advantage of the privacy they’ve had all along.

He feels her tongue flick against his - it makes him shiver - and he can do little more than just wrap himself around her tighter, and sigh into her kiss. Her fingers make their way into his hair, cradling his head, pressing sweet kisses on the side of his mouth, on his jaw, and on the sensitive spot beneath his ear.

And because Mikasa’s always been a quick study (she’s learnt what he likes, what he’s weak for), he stills her exploration (very reluctantly) before she goes too far.

“Are you okay…?” He whispers, rubbing a thumb along the dried tear stains on her cheek – a reminder of her tears, of knowing the pain that he’d caused her, bubbled quietly within him, having been quelled temporarily by the glorious feeling of having her in his arms.

She laughs, shaking her head, “… I love you. I can’t believe I finally get to say it.” She rests her forehead against his, a happy smile forming on her lips.

“… You could have said it ages ago; you know. No one asked you to keep it inside for this long.” Even though he teases her with his words, his lips drift back to hers, brushing softly, unable to stay away for too long.

“… Well, you never know, I actually might have said it. If it wasn’t for, you know, you having a girlfriend.” He senses the eye roll, the teasing lilt of her voice, but he can’t help but regret the time he wasted. Because even though Krista was a dear friend, and there were no ill intentions there, now that he is here, chest to chest with the girl he loves, he only wishes he’d been here sooner.

“You’re going to use that against me forever, aren’t you?”

She grins in response. “… I have a question though.”

“Shoot,” he murmurs, nibbling against her lower lip.

“… Why’d you guys break up?”

He groans, kissing her jaw testily. “… Do you really want to go into that right now?”

She hesitates, torn between potentially ruining the mood and needing to know what happened. God knows, she had spent countless nights losing sleep over the details anyway. “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay, I guess…”

“It’s fine,” he says quickly, realising that if he wanted to set a precedent where she could ask him anything, then it‘s best he starts now, “… She’s in love with someone else. A girl, actually.”

Her eyes widen, not having expected that turn of events. “… Please tell me you didn’t ask for a threesome.”

“What the fuck, Mikasa, of course not!” He pulls back, offended.

“Good,” she murmurs cheekily, “I’ve raised you well.”

“Hmm,” he hums, “Speaking of ‘raising me’, you should probably stop saying stuff like that. Do you know that Connie asked if you were like a ’sister’ to me?”

He grins, seeing the shocked expression on her face. That’s exactly how he had felt when he was posed that question, with a little mortification added to the mix. “… Is that really how everyone sees our… relationship?”

His fingers drift to hers, where they rest on his chest. “We’ve been living together for a while now,” he caresses her knuckles absentmindedly, “Kids our age… they don’t really understand it, I guess. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“My turn: I have a question for you,” he murmurs. This is a question he’s long considered, stopped only by his embarrassment, fielding it from others only to put the vaguest labels on it.

“… What am I to you, Mikasa?”

The question throws her, because even though she’s told him candidly how she feels, that she loves him, she always has, he is asking her, right now, to define their relationship.

The very notion, the expression that flits on her tongue, bubbles up in her heart with an exciting warmth, even though she hopes this is just temporary, that it will grow, that Eren is so many things and will be so many things to her that she cannot possibly define right now - “… My boyfriend, of course.”

- fin -

A/N: i've been really nervous to post em, because its just been so long, and the writer that wrote chap 1 is different from the one that wrote chap 2, and honestly i dont even know if there are inconsistencies. so my request to you, dear reader, is to please let me know if i have made any fuck ups in writing this - or if you have any ideas for pacing, or storytelling that could possibly help me improve.

also there will be a chapter 3 focusing on eremika’s sexual exploration~

#eremika #erehisu #yumihisu #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #liquorisce fanfiction

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