So, a long-ass time ago, Rose and Dave had a conversation like this:
TT: After you go, what do you think will happen to me?
TT: Will I just cease to exist?
TG: i dont know
TG: i mean your whole timeline will
TT: Is there a chance it’ll continue to exist, and I’ll just be here alone forever?
TT: I’m not sure which outcome is more unsettling.
TG: the thing with time travel is
TG: you cant overthink it
TG: just roll with it and see what happens
TG: and above all try not to do anything retarded
TT: What do you think I should do?
TG: try going to sleep
TG: our dream selves kind of operate outside the normal time continuum i think
TG: so if part of you from this timelines going to persist thats probably the way to make it happen
TG: and hey you might even be able to help your past dream self wake up sooner without all that fuss you went through
TT: I think the true purpose of this game
is to see how many qualifiers we can get to precede the word “self” and
still understand what we’re talking about.
This is the most important sentence in Homestuck.
I am dead serious.
Well, OK, I mean, it’s pretty important for understanding some major
Homestuck themes and shit or something like that.
Also, I totally should have said: Pre-Retcon Doomed Timeline Non-Dreamself
Rose but ultimately about to become Dreamself Rose who semi-merged with
Pre-Retcon Alpha Timeline Rose and Doomed Timeline Dave aka Davesprite AKA
future Davepetasprite^2 or as we all call them around the office, Davepeta, had
Maybe you begin to see what I’m going to talk about here.
One of the major frustrations a lot of people had with the retcon was that
the characters we ended up with at the end weren’t the ones we’d come to love
and know throughout the story. Was it even worth it, to lose the characters we
loved to the tyranny of Game Over? The victorious kids, with the exception of
John and Roxy, were other people, with other histories, other goals, and other
Allow me to submit that that may be the whole point.
SBURB is cruel. We’ve known that for a long time. It’s cruel not as Caliborn
is cruel, but as the cosmos is cruel, as a supernova is cruel. It wants what it
wants, and doesn’t care about how that intersects with the needs of humanity.
It wants to make universes through a complex game-playing method, and drags
hapless, vulnerable adolescents along for the ride. And most of the time it
doesn’t even succeed, leaving its champions to rot in a doomed timeline or
similar! Skaia’s victory is an amoral creation myth where individual human
beings are just the carved pieces on the chessboard. (I mean, the other ones.
Not the carapacians.)
Again, let’s consider the theme of VIDEO GAMES vs. REAL LIFE.
Homestuck, let’s be real, is basically some postmodern horror timey-wimey
Jumanji. For a generation way more familiar with pixels than cute little tokens
It’s easy for teenagers and in fact, basically everyone, to fantasize about
escaping their life and slipping into some game world forever, where they get
to do awesome things and be a heroic person.
Homestuck makes that literal. Congratulations, everything you ever knew is
dead. You will never see it again, except your internet friends, who turn out
also to be your family and other important people. I mean, from a distance,
SBURB sounds like an awesome game, right? You figure out who you are and get to
wear a cool costume displaying that identity. You get to make anything you want
and enjoy this hyperflexible mythology tailored to YOUR CHOICES. HS fans talk
all the time about how cool it would be to play a real version of SBURB. That’s
a big part of the appeal of SBURB fan adventures. They put you and your friends
in the story. Or your favorite characters! It sounds like a fantasy come true.
The thing is, as fantastical as it is, it’s also really fucked up, and
ultimately you and your friends are being used. By a giant frog to let it have
its babies. By the universe. By a smug blue cloud thing that doesn’t care about
you at all.
SBURB does not care about you at all.
The funny thing, SBURB features a mythology with so many layers and nuances
and seemingly human motifs about growth and self that you might search for some
grand ultimate meaning behind it, but it’s not even human enough to have a
personality, to be something you can argue with or fight. It just is. It’s all
the cruelty and power of a god without any of the dazzling personality. It’s
empty. It just wants to make universes all day long, or fail trying. It is a
great, weird tadpole-making machine that eats children.
One of the big ways it doesn’t care about you is its attitude toward the
self. Humans and trolls and whatnot prefer not to be relentlessly duplicated.
SBURB says, oh yeah, let’s make tons of copies of the player characters and use
them for a lot of different purposes.
There’s the dreamself, an essential bifurcation of identity (you are now and
were always the dream moon princex) that sometimes gets merged into god tier
but sometimes doesn’t. There’s doomed timeline selves, who exist ultimately to
augment an Alpha timeline whose Alphaness is decided very arbitrarily and
frequently by Lord English. There’s the you who exists before a scratched
session and the you who exists afterward, who are two different people but
started as one baby in an act of ectobaby meteor duplication, your player self
and your guardian self. Dead timeline yous fill up the dreambubbles made by the
horrorterrors and get endlessly confused with each other. Any one of these
could be the you experience being at any given moment, and which one it is
entirely arbitrary. Don’t like being Dead Nepeta #47? Tough hoofbeast leavings,
To top it all off, in Terezi: Remember, we learn that every single time we
thought someone changed from one self to another, was resurrected or something
like that, it was another act of duplication. For every time someone’s died,
there’s another version of them waiting in the Dream Bubbles, surprised that
they’re not the main character anymore. And we have no way of knowing which is
which. Even John, good old everyman John, may or may not be the person who died
three or four times. It’s really impossible to say whether we’ve been following
the same person throughout our story, or just the illusion of the same person,
like a horrifying cosmic flipbook.
The retcon is a return to this same theme. Ultimately, there’s very little
new in the changes John makes to reality except that they drive the point home.
John’s friends all died. John and his friends won the game. These things are
both true at the same time, except those things may not have happened to the same
people. There was a happy ending. Hooray! For, um, some folks who may or may
not be the ones we care about. In fact, it’s very confusing, because from
Rose’s perspective, Roxy is dead but came back to life, and from Roxy’s
perspective Rose is dead but came back to life, except also she came back to
life as a weird tentacle catgirl of pure id and self –indulgence. So there’s
that. Um. Which Rose are we rooting for again?
Or wait: is it none of them, because the first Rose died in a doomed
timeline, hundreds of panels and a number of years ago?
There’s a tension here which one experiences between saying it’s okay
because it’s still the same people, and saying it’s not okay, because it’s not
the same people at all. This tension is exactly what we’re meant to wrestle
with. To put it another way, Homestuck asks if identity can work in aggregate.
Are all Johns John, all Roses Rose, and do they all share in what they
accomplish? Or are the final victors only accidents created by the whims and
needs of the frog baby machine?
What I’m saying, basically, is that the retcon, in the sense that it pointed
out our confused relationship with these characters, was already here.
In interviews and questions put to him over the years, Hussie constantly
compares HS and SBURB to other video games, particularly Mario, which he
frequently returns to as a baseline of comparison that most of his readers will
know. One answer, from a recent Hiveswap interview, is particularly revelatory.
To the question of “Why do you kill off all your characters?” Hussie replies:
[…]HS is supposedly a story that is also a game. In games, the characters
die all the time. How many times did you let Mario fall in the pit before he
saved the princess? Who weeps for these Marios. In games your characters die,
but you keep trying and trying and rebooting and resetting until finally they
make it. When you play a game this process is all very impersonal. Once you
finally win, when all is said and done those deaths didn’t “count”, only the
linear path of the final victorious version of the character is considered
“real”. Mario never actually died, did he? Except the omniscient player knows
better. HS seems to combine all the meaningless deaths of a trial-and-error
game journey with the way death is treated dramatically in other media, where
unlike our oblivious Mario, the characters are aware and afraid of the many
deaths they must experience before finally winning the game.
The big man hass the answer.
Homestuck is the story of those dead Marios.
Other works, like Undertale, have engaged with this topic as well. But one
of the major differences between Undertale and Homestuck is that in Undertale,
between “lives,” one’s consciousness is preserved. In Homestuck, it’s discontinuous,
and the value of the overall trial-error process is called into question by the
fact that you, the player, may not even get to experience the victory. What
meaning does victory hold if that is the case?
So, to put it in a nice thesis format:
One of the central themes of Homestuck is the challenge of reconciling an
arbitrary and destructive pattern of growth and victory with the death and
suffering you experienced along the way. Homestuck asks: is victory worthwhile
if you’re not you anymore? And would you be able to know?
What even is the self? Is there such a thing?
If you were left feeling somewhat disconcerted by our heroes’ tidy victory
and departure to their cosmic prize, or by how which Rose gets the spotlight is
so deeply, deeply arbitrary, there’s a good reason for that. You’re supposed to
The philosophical problem of Wacky Cat Rose is insignificant next to the
bullshit of SBURB.
And don’t forget—John and Roxy’s denizens helped them achieve the retcon.
Ultimately, the victory they achieved was mediated by the same amoral system of
SBURB, and was a victory over an enemy, Caliborn, whose power was created,
perpetuated, and ended by that same system.
Okay, so here’s where it gets contentious. There’s an argument to be made,
which I’m not sure how I feel about, that some of the character development
that could have been in post-retcon Act 6 was left out precisely to push this
feeling and play up this tension. Note that this is not the same thing as
saying that they were deliberately badly written, but that they’re deliberately
written to make us uneasy.That Hussie deliberately played with the balance
between making these retconned characters feel familiar and making them feel
eerily different to leave us feeling uneasy with the result.
I’m not sure I like that idea. It smacks a little too much of that
“everything is perfect” thinking that comes sometimes from the far Metastuck
camp. Some of the differences may also be the result of flawed writing. (See:
Jane and Jake’s character arcs, which I might talk about later.) And I want to
be able to critique those flaws. Ultimately, I think we still needed more time
and development to figure out who these new people were—even if our goal was
ultimately to compare them to their earlier selves. And again, more conscious
acknowledgement of the problem from our heroes—especially John, the linchpin in
this last and biggest act of duplication—might have helped drive this theme
Still, I think the Problem of Dead Marios is one of the most fundamental questions
of Homestuck, maybe THE biggest question. It’s essential to understand it to
understand what Hussie’s doing—or attempting to do— in the retcon and the
I don’t know that Homestuck offers us a clear answer to that question. There
are some confusions around the issue, too. Where do merged selves fit in,
exactly? Clearly they’re a big part of the discussion, because Hussie spends
some time in Act 6, especially near the end bringing the identity-merging
powers of the Sprites to the forefront. (See also: the identity-merged
nightmare that is Lord English.) Can we even come up with a clear answer
to what it means when a dead Mario returns to life grotesquely fused with Toad?
How does he beat the game? Does he tell himself that the princess is in another
castle? Or what if he merges with Peach? Are they their own princess? How do
they know if they’re in the right castle?
Interestingly, it’s not all grotesque—spritesplosions suggest that
personalities that are too different don’t stay together long, so a fusion
might rely on some inherent compatibility between the two players. Erisol’s
self-loathing, sure, but also Fefeta’s cheerfulness. Davepeta seems to be a way
of bringing out the best in their players, a way of getting Davesprite past his
angst and Nepeta past her fear. Honestly, I know a lot of people don’t like
Davepeta as the ending of these two characters’ arcs, but I can’t help but love
it. They’re the ultimate coolkid. Cool enough to know they don’t have to be
cool. Regular Dave got there, too, of course. But was his retcon assist from
John ultimately any different?
Then, of course, we come to Davepeta’s speech to Jade in one of the last few
updates before Collide. Davepeta suggests that there is such a thing as an
ultimate self beyond the many different selves one piles up throughout the
cosmos. A set of principles that describes who you are that’s larger than any
individual instance of you. Your inherent Mariohood. (Maybe this is comparable
to your Classpect identity, which attempts to describe who you are?) Davepeta
even tells Jade, strikingly, that one might learn to see beyond the barriers
between selves. Be the ur-self, in practice, rather than theory. This would be
incredible news for Jade, who wrestles with the issue of different selves
perhaps more than any other character. (There’s a lot to say about Jade.)
Honestly, I wish this ur-self idea had been developed more, and I honestly
expected it to be. It doesn’t fully come to fruition, I feel. (Same goes for
Davepeta’s character. Ohhhh, ZING!) I’m not sure it entirely makes
philosophical sense, especially with fusion—I mean, doesn’t Davepeta themself
disprove it? Or at least complicate it? Like, are they part of the ur-Dave or
the ur-Nepeta? They seem to imply they’re BOTH? Does that even work? Does that
mean that Marieach is all the Peaches and Marios at once?
(In fact, Bowser/Peach/Mario are but the three manifestations of one eternal
principle. Also, Bowser/Peach are the true power couple. Read my fanfiction
And what, say, of Dirk, who ultimately ends up rejecting aspects of his
other selves? It feels like there’s a lot more you could say here, and I wonder
if Hussie would have said more, if he’d had time. What’s weird is, none of our
victorious kids never reach an ur-self (though to their descendants, they
become archetypal to some degree), which one might have expected. They’re just
individual selves who happened to get lucky. Does that make them representative
of the whole? It feels like something’s missing here, or like something got
dropped at the last minute.
Same goes for the idea of the Ultimate Riddle. You’d be forgiven for missing
it, but there’s been this riddle in the background lore of SBURB that seems to
have something to do with personal agency in this overwhelming, overarching
system. Karkat called it predestination, saying something like “ANY HOPE YOU
HAD OF DOING THINGS OTHERWISE WAS JUST A RUSE.” But others have interpreted it
more positively. My favorite interpretation, from bladekindeyewear: the answer
to the Riddle is that YOU shape the timeline through your existence,
personality, and choices, even when it looks like it’s all predestination.
Ultimately it’s your predestination, your set of events, based deeply on your
nature, that you are creating. Someone like Caliborn can use his innate
personality to achieve power; someone like John might be able to use it to
I definitely expected something like that to be expressed more explicitly.
Like, a big ah-ha moment that helps John or Jade or whoever understand how to
escape Caliborn’s system. Something like that would have been very helpful for
a lot of our heroes, actually, who’ve been pushed around by Skaia and SBURB
together, in finding a cathartic ending. Once again, I wonder if something
was dropped or rushed because there wasn’t time to put it all in. There’s
places where you can see hints of that Answer being implied, maybe? But it’s
kind of ambiguous.
You can see how the Answer to the Ultimate Riddle ties into some of
Davepeta’s ideas. If your personality, the rules of your behavior are a
fundamental archetype that goes beyond each individual self, then the answer to
whether it matters if one self of yours makes it through to victory is an
emphatic YES. You are all of those people, and by winning one round with Skaia,
you’ve won the whole game, despite all the arbitrary challenges and deaths it
heaps upon you along the way.
This may strike some as too positive for Skaia’s brutality, or again, some
way of excusing flaws in many characters’ arcs, or unfair things that happen to
them. To be fair, I don’t know that Davepeta’s necessarily meant to be taken as
authoritative or the voice of Hussie. They may simply be offering a
Hussie not choosing to come right out and engage with the Ultimate Riddle
leaves the question of Dead Marios and what they mean for the victorious
versions of our cast very open. I like that in some ways—let the reader
decide—but I can’t help but wish we had more to work with in making that
decision. Plus, it might have brought the thematic messages of Homestuck all
the way home to tie them more closely to our characters and their
experiences—character development being one of the things most people found
most lacking in the ending.
His heart is still beating when you
decide you’ve spent enough time with his blood on your hands. Some
things even time cannot wash away, some crimes even magic cannot wish
away. There are costs to everything, but sometimes it feels as though
that’s a lie we tell ourselves to make every day seem better. We
paid the cost, we move on.
He stares at me without an expression
I’m familiar with, the page in his hand. “This is the start of a
story?” he asks, unable to see himself on a page. I don’t leave
the start of stories out anymore, not after he made the crack about
Twilight fanfic. But this one
left itself, almost.
The sneer in his voice at ‘story’
says everything, and too much of that. You can’t be with people who
don’t support your dreams, not really. He never did anything except
insist that I supported mine.
We met in a too-expensive coffee shop,
both on trips with other people – he with his girlfriend of the
time, I with my little brother. Taking pictures of famous landmarks,
and then of each other. We had a caffeine challenge, matching each
other with shots of espresso. We hit it off, but perhaps only after
the coffee was replaced by wine at a wine bar. It should have been a
warning, but it wasn’t. He left his girlfriend for me. Gabriel
sneered at that as only a younger brother can, said he’d leave me
to. That false once could only be false again.
He hasn’t left me though. I’m the
one who has my bags packed and ready to go in the bedroom. I wish I’d
caught him with another woman. I have a gun locked away for a kiss
and bang. But it’s nothing that simple.
“It was therapy.”
“Therapy.” He snorts. “You’ve
wasted enough of our money on that. Those quacks get paid by the
hour: their job wasn’t to save you. It was to string you
along and get as much money from you as they could.”
“You cancelled it without telling
“Pretty therapeutic, I say.” He
laughs at his jokes. No one else does.
Magic runs in my family. I could do it.
Remove his heart, hold it out, talk to him. But we only have so much
magic in us for our entire lives. He’s not worth it. He was never
worth my magic. Gabriel said that to me, and I never disagreed. But
if he wasn’t worth my magic, how was he ever worth me? Sometimes
things get so simple it’s a wonder they were ever complicated at
I take the paper, rip it apart, walk to
the bedroom and come out with my bags.
“Hey,” he says, confused. “What
There is menace in his tone; I hope I
am just imagining it. “I’m leaving. I can’t do this anymore.”
“You can’t just –.” He stands,
confusion giving way to anger.
“Is this about that joke at the party
about you being fat? I never met to hurt nobody!”
“It’s not that. It’s everything.
He stares at me. Takes a step forward.
“Don’t.” I’ve never used magic
on him. Never wasted, never spent, but I let a hint of other
creep into my tone. I have Gabriel on speed dial in my pocket; if I
don’t want to waste any of my magic on him, Gabriel will happily do
steps aside. Slowly, not understanding. I left no note for him. I
walk outside, call a call, start down the street toward the
ignore the small part of me that wishes he would.
Summary- jay has a crush on the reader and uses cheesy pickup lines on her
Pairing- jay x reader
Evie was going on about all the dress orders she had for the cotillion and you loved your bestfriend, you really did, but if you had to listen to her talk about tulle or pastel colors for another minute you were gonna scream.
“Eve, about cotillion-”
“Did you get a date yet? Cause if not, I know a few guys who’d love to take you!” She grinned and you could practically see the gears turning in her head.
You shook your head, “Haven’t got one, but that’s not what I was going to say. Do you think you could make me a dress? I-I know it’s last minute, but I was looking through my closet and I have nothing-”
Once again, you were cut off, “Yes, of course! Timing will be no problem, Doug and I will work overtime if we have to.”
“Making poor Doug work overtime? Very VK of you, Evie.” Jay teased as he sat on the grass next to you.
You rolled your eyes at his words. You didn’t know what it was, but you just couldn’t stand to be around the son of Jafar. He never did anything to you except continuously use cheesy pickup lines which either annoyed you or made you blush.
Evie ignored the boy and continued to sketch in her notebook, most likely designing your dress since she kept looking up at you before going back to scribbling.
Jay turned his body so he was facing you before speaking, “Your lips look lonely, would they like to meet mine?” The smile on his lips never faltering, even as Evie tried to stifle her laughter.
“It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” You mumbled, not bothering to look up from the textbook in your lap. Now that made Evie burst out into laughter and you hoped he couldn’t see the way your cheeks turned a different shade.
The boy momentarily frowned before perking up again, “I’ll get you with the next one.”
You shook your head, “We’ll see.”
The week went on with Jay using a pickup line on you every chance he got, even in Remedial Goodness class which Fairy Godmother was not fond of.
“Y/N!” You turned at the shout of your name and were met with a smiling Jay jogging towards you. “I need a favor,”
You meant to say no, but for some reason the word ‘sure’ came out of your mouth.
Jay stood up straighter and held out his arm which made you raise your eyebrows at him.
“Will you grab my arm so I can tell my friends i’ve been touched by an angel?”
You couldn’t contain the giggle that slipped passed your lips. You quickly recovered by coughing, but you knew Jay caught on.
“I’m not going to break, Jay. You need to try a little harder than that.” You smirked at the boy before walking off.
“Give the boy a break, Y/N!” Carlos begged.
You sighed as you rested your forehead against the dorm room door, “Carlos, please. I only agreed to see what was wrong with your 3D printer cause I need to use it for my next project. Don’t bring up Jay, Evie and Mal won’t give it a rest either.”
Pushing open the door, you were greeted by Jay standing in the middle of the room holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
To say you were shocked would be an understatement.
“Please tell me this is a dream..” You mumbled to no one in particular as you stared at Jay.
He chuckled as he walked towards you and handed over the flowers, “Mal said these were your favorites, I-I hope you like them.”
You smiled at the boy after taking a whiff of the flowers which of course smelt amazing. What puzzled you was that this kind of flower didn’t grow on Auradon, at least not that you had seen.
“I love them, thank you. But, what’s all this? Is it part of one of your pickup lines?”
Jay shook his head,” No, that’s over. T-This is real, this is me asking you to cotillion.”
You didn’t respond for a few minutes which made him unbelievably nervous. What if you said no?
“Yes, but-” You began but were cut off by Jay hollering and wrapping you into a hug.
You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction before continuing your sentence, “Your tux has to match my dress or this is off,” You playfully pushed the boy who hadn’t stopped grinning.
“You don’t need to worry about that, I got it covered.” He affirmed.
Safe to say, he did have it covered and it was the best cotillion you’d been to since you started at Auradon.
Warnings: Dirty talk, Smut, Angst, Language, Slight Dom
Plot: You met Jimin through your favorite online video game. Finding out that he lived on the other side of the world from you. You both quickly fell for each other, and dealt with the issues that come with online dating. Although, some temptations are too hard to turn away. Especially when your significant other is nowhere near.
A/N:Thank you all so much for patiently waiting. I know this is late, and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I will try my hardest to be on time with the next chapter. Let me know what you think! -B
Jimin cards his hand through his hair as he walks down the busy Seoul streets. He adorned a black face mask, and sunglasses to try to be as unnoticeable as possible to the people mindlessly passing him as he heads to the address his company gave him. A coffee shop…how typical… He thinks; annoyance etched on every crevice of his face as the company told him of their plans.
He sighs as he reaches his destination. Standing under the neon signs that marked his last days of freedom for who knows how long. As he reaches for to pull the door of the shop open, out of the corner of his eye he spots the paparazzi trying to get the best sighting of him. He rolled his eyes at the thought of his company calling in an ‘anonymous tip’ as to his whereabouts, and who with. He never understood how they acted like they were so sly when they stick out like sore thumbs.
Heyyyy everyone. Hope you enjoy this fic, I loved writing this it was so much fun. Shoutout to my friend @pumpernickelbae for first reading this fic for me and being so supportive of my writing, and also, shoutout to my friend @omqitsnaya because she was so engaged while reading this and telling me all these thing while she was reading them and she’s just an angel. i love them so much.
Pairing: Anthony Ramos x Reader
Summary: You try to figure out how to tell Anthony you’re pregnant. With triplets.
Word count: 2086
Warnings: Just cursing, a cute Anthony being really oblivious to everything
You were having triplets. The moment the doctor said it you
could hardly believe it.
“Excuse me?” You
asked, your voice rising to high decibels.
The doctor turned to look at you. “You’re having triplets.”
She said with a small smile.
You sat there, feeling shocked. When you were in the car,
you were still shocked. When you got home, you were still in a state of
complete shock. You and Anthony were going to have to take care of three
babies. You didn’t think you could even handle one baby, and now you found out
you have to take care of three.
Even through the shock, you still couldn’t help but be a
little happy. You had three little people growing in your stomach. As scary as
it was, it was still a little exciting.
“Oh god.” You groaned as you thought about how you were
going to tell Anthony. You didn’t know how he was going to react. And even
though you knew he would never, you still couldn’t help but worry that Anthony
might leave you. What if he doesn’t want
triplets? You thought to yourself. You tried to bury that nasty thought
away from your head to no avail.
“Hey babe!” Anthony shouted from the kitchen.
You yelped and jumped in the air. Anthony peeks his head out
from the kitchen door way.
“Sorry, baby. Did I scare you?” He asked. You walked over to
the kitchen and he walked back in, continuing whatever thing he was doing
“A little bit.” You replied.
He turned back to you. “I wasn’t talking about you “baby”. I was talking about our baby “baby”.”
You shook your head and laughed, refraining from responding
with “Which baby are you talking about?” He continued cutting up the onions.
“So how’s our baby?” He asked. You could hear the smile in
his voice and you couldn’t help but smile as well.
“They’re all doing fine!” You said cheerily.
He looked at you again, an even bigger smile on his face.
“Oh that’s so fucking great.” He walked over and gave you a big kiss on your
lips, then moved his lips lower so he can kiss your stomach.
You giggled, realizing he didn’t catch what you said.
“Dinner’s going to be ready in half an hour. Sit down and
relax.” He said, throwing the now cut up onions into the pan.
“Isn’t it a two-show day today?” You asked, sitting down at
the kitchen table.
“Yeah, I only have like an hour and a half before I needa
leave.” He responded. You nodded your head and just watched him cook. When the
food was done, you both ate, talking about whatever it is that you could.
“Hey, can you get me some water real quick?” You asked him
when he stood up to wash your plates.
“Yes, ma'am.” He said, taking your cup with him.
“Three ice cubes. Three
babes.” You said. You added the babes
at the end, a nickname you called him every once in a while. However, this time
you hoped he would hear it in the context of babies. He didn’t, of course.
“Okay… Anything for you.” He said, looking at you with
He got you your water. You groaned inwardly, disappointed
that your subtle confession didn’t work. You’d have to step up your game.
Anthony left, and you plotted the next triplet reveal.
A couple days later, on another two-show day, you had
another plan to tell him you were having triplets.
When Anthony had gotten home late at night, you offered to
get him a glass of water before bed.
“No, Y/N. You can’t walk.” He protested, getting up to get
“Anthony Ramos. I am not even three months pregnant. I can
still do things for myself.” You said, pushing him back onto the bed. “I will be getting you water.”
He grumbled to himself but let you leave.
You came back into the room, holding a glass of water. In
the water were three ice cubes, each with a miniature baby in them.
Anthony laughed as you handed him the glass. “Babe, you
already told me you were pregnant. You didn’t have to do this.” He gave you a
kiss, then drank from the glass.
You rolled your eyes. Time
for a new plan.
Two weeks later it was Thanksgiving. You and Anthony had
invited Daveed, Jasmine, Lin and his wife Vanessa over to your apartment for a
Thanksgiving dinner. The week before, you had told Jasmine about your having
triplets. She’d agreed to keep it a secret, and you and her planned how to
surprise Anthony with the news at dinner. She’d had the idea to have three of
everything, much like your original plan with the water (which didn’t work, and
when you told her this, she just shook her head and said to try it anyway).
Because it was Thanksgiving, you’d both agreed to keep the
dinner more than three items, but
everything else was in threes. Three different stuffings, three different types
of meat, three different drinks to choose from, and three of every utensil. It
was a very blatant message, and, according to Jasmine, “if Anthony doesn’t get
the idea that something is up… well, just know you’re having a kid with an
By this time, you were about 13 weeks pregnant. Your stomach
wasn’t that big yet, but Lin took notice.
“Jesus, your little one’s going to be big! Look how big you
already are.” Lin shouted, laying a hand softly on your stomach, and rubbing it
slowly, whispering a hello to the babies.
“Lin!” Vanessa chastised.
“It’s a compliment!” He argued.
“Hi, Y/N.” Vanessa greeted, holding her arms out. You
hugged her back and she laid a hand on your stomach. She said hello to the
babies also and walked into the apartment to say hello to Daveed who was
already there, “helping” Anthony out with the turkey (Daveed had since left the
kitchen and leaned on the kitchen doorway, watching the T.V screen).
“You know, my sister was this big when she was as far along
as you. She had triplets.” Lin said, a knowing look on his face.
“If you say anything
to him, Lin, I swear to god, I will kick your ass.”
He raised his arms up in surrender. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
He gave your shoulder a light rub, then followed after his wife.
An hour later, everyone sat down for dinner. Everyone went
around, saying what they were thankful for. Once you were done, you all started
to grab your meals.
“Why are there three forks?” Daveed asked as he plopped
mashed potatoes onto his plate.
“And spoons? And knives?” Lin added. He glanced up at you
and rolled his eyes.
“Really?” he mouthed.
“It was her idea.” You answered back, pointing at Jasmine.
He shook his head and laughed.
After a moment, everyone dropped the subject. Everyone had
managed to comment on the number of things, except Anthony.
“Idiot.” Jasmine whispered beside you.
“Shush.” You answered back. “He’ll mention it later.”
Except, he never did.
On Christmas, the cast had to do a show, so everyone agreed
to celebrate Chritmas morning together at the Richard Rogers Theater.
By this point, Lin and Jasmine had worked together to let
the entire cast know you and Anthony were having triplets. You wondered how
Anthony hadn’t found out yet. Everyone exchanged gifts, and you had the most
gifts because everyone had bought a lot of extra things for the babies.
It soon became time to give your gift to Anthony. You had
given him a gift earlier that morning (tickets to a basketball game he’d been
dying to go to), but you had another gift to give. Jasmine had found this idea
on some pregnancy website, and decided it would be cute for you to give to
Anthony opened the card and read it out loud: “I have three
more gifts for you, but they’re still being processed. You’ll get them in only
a few more months.”
Anthony laughed, a wide smile on his face. Everyone was on
the edge of their seat, thinking he had finally figured out the secret, but
were incredibly disappointed when he said, “What kind of store are you buying
from that they’re taking months to get you my gifts?”
Everyone audibly groaned and sat back against their seats.
Anthony looked around confused. He shrugged it off. “Y/N, just cancel them. I
don’t need them.”
“It’s a lil late for that, Ant.” You said. Everyone laughed,
and the mood was brought back up again. The show later that day was great, but
you were still wondering on how to tell Ant you were having triplets.
A few days later on New Years, you’d had another cute idea
to tell him.
After the New Years kiss, you’d brought out a cake with
three little people on the top of them.
Anthony laughed and said, “Is that supposed to be us and the
baby? God that’s so fucking cute.” He said, grabbing the cake, putting it down
and giving you another kiss.
Time for Plan E. What’s
Plan E took a little longer to plan than you thought. You
had to go out and order balloons to be ready for you to pick up on the day of
the “party.” Then you had to go out and order cakes. Then you had to buy
streamers and other decorations for the apartment. Everything was getting
harder to do the bigger you got. At this point, you were 21 weeks old, so
walking became more of a struggle.
Before Anthony had left for his show at night, you’d told
him to hurry back as quick as he could, because you had planned a party.
“Oh, sweet.” He
cheered. He gave you one last kiss and left for his show.
Thankfully Anthony wouldn’t be there for another four hours,
so you were able to walk slowly when getting everything ready. Walking was something you didn’t want to
do; imagine if you’d have had to run
around. Everything was ready to go; now all you had to do was wait for Anthony.
“So are you guys coming over for the party or…?” Anthony
asked his cast mates before he left.
“What party?” Lin answered. Anthony looked to Daveed, who
shrugged his shoulders. Anthony then looked to Oak, Jasmine and Renee, who had
all shrugged their shoulders.
Anthony said his good byes and took a cab to you guys’
apartment. He texted you on his way there, asking what was going on, but your
only response was Shut up and come home,
When Anthony stepped into the apartment, he was surprised to
see white balloons and streamers hanging from the ceiling. All the balloons had
the number 3 on them.
“Babe, where are you? I thought we were having a party?” he
“Y/N, where are you?” He repeated when you didn’t respond
the first time.
“In the kitchen.” You called. He rushed to the kitchen to
find more balloons everywhere, and you, standing behind the kitchen table,
where there were three cakes. You pulled the string to the party popper you
were holding and confetti blew out of it.
“Hey baby.” You said.
He walked closer to you and looked down at the cakes. Each
cake read a different word. Together, the cakes read out “We’re having
“What?” Anthony asked, looking up at you.
“Do you not know how to read? It says we’re having
triplets.” You said, firing off another party popper.
Anthony stood shocked for another second before a big smile
began to appear on his face.
“Triplets?” He asked.
“Like, three babies? Growing in your stomach?”
You nodded your head, laughing.
“Oh my fucking god! Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?” He
shouted, hugging you tightly from the side, so he didn’t squish the babies. He
looked at you and realization crossed his face. “You did. I was just too stupid
You giggled. “Yeah.”
Tears began to appear in his eyes. “We’re having triplets.
That’s three, baby! WE’RE HAVING TRIPLETS!”
You nodded your head, tears falling from your eyes. Anthony
ran around the room, shouting happily about having triplets. He took out his
phone and began calling people, telling them what he’d just learned.
You stood there, happy tears still falling from your eyes,
wondering how you could ever think he would react badly.
He heard her whimper, and the sound suddenly brought him back to reality as if someone dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over him which sobered him up immediately. Was he shaking her? He saw her eyes full of fear and tears. Oh fuck, had he lost it completely?
‘Let me go,’ she whispered, her lips trembling. ‘Please, let me go, you’re hurting me.’ As if he was some kind of a monster. Be he wasn’t. She was the most precious thing in his life. He would have never hurt her. Except he just did.
The realization hit him harder than everything that had happened in the last hour. He felt his eyes burn. His blood went cold. He loosened his grip, and she was free. Crying. Running away from him. From the violence he really was.
Ok but nurseydex where Dex just poured out his gay little heart to Best Friend Chowder. Everything from realising it n hiding it up to recently, to his MASSIVE CRUSH ON NURSEY not realising that a)the bathroom door is slightly open and b) nursey just walked into the bathroom to shower and overheard the crush part and what happens after that?!?!? (Ace Dex or no thats down to u but also i always love all ur ace Dex fics) (also also no pressure to answer! Have a great day)
I wanted to do something fun, so I wrote this from Chowder’s perspective :) I guess technically this is an ace!dex fic, but only in passing
Chowder looked up from where he was studying. He was pretty sure that he heard a noise outside his door. It wasn’t like he believed in Jenny and Mandy, except he totally did, but Ransom never gave him the impression that they were malicious, so he couldn’t imagine them making noise outside his room. Which meant that it had to be someone else.
After another creak (definitely not a pair of lesbian ghosts, then, since ghosts don’t have weight and they couldn’t make the floorboards shift around), there was a pause, then a light tap on his closed door.
Happy to have a distraction from his ichthyology textbook, he bounced out of his chair and pulled the door open. Definitely not ghosts! On the other side of the door was a slightly distressed looking Dex. Well, distressed for Dex, which was two parts angry and one part really, really tired.
“Hey, Dex. Wanna come in? What’s on your mind?” Chowder already knew what was on his mind.
There was only one reason that Dex ever looked like that, and it made Chowder almost long for the textbook he was dying to get away from just minutes earlier. He loved Nursey and he loved Dex, but if he had to talk to Dex about Nursey or Nursey about Dex one more time, he might actually lock them in their room together so they couldn’t keep escaping to his.
Dex shuffled around for a minute like he was going to run away, probably because Dex was just about the most emotionally constipated person in the entire Haus. Eventually, he scrubbed a hand through his hair and nodded.
He made his way straight to Chowder’s bed, just like he always did when he came to talk to Chowder about his feelings, so that he could hug Sharkie to his chest. Yup, definitely a Nursey problem.
Chowder sat back down on his desk chair, facing Dex. Over the years that all three of them had been friends, Chowder had perfected how to talk to Dex and Nursey about problems. With Nursey, you had to keep pressing, because he was likely to get off topic (accidentally on purpose) if he wasn’t kept on track. Dex, though, needed a lot of silence so that he could take his time to form this thoughts.
So, that’s what Chowder did. They sat together in silence, and Chowder tried his hardest not to look longingly at his textbook, because even though this was valuable time he could be spending pretending to study, his friend was more important than that.
It didn’t take Dex long at all finally blurt out, “I have a problem.”
“Excuse me? You can’t just walk in here! Do you have your ID? Miss?” The receptionist yells as you make your way to the elevators. The same one you had said good morning to almost every day and she still didn’t recognise you. The same one that had refused all your collect calls. People are all assholes. Why could you never learn that? Not even bothering to answer her, you stepped into the elevator.
You punch in the code and take the elevator straight to your floor, propping yourself up against the wall. You’re exhausted.Your feet full of bleeding blisters you can feel but daren’t look at and you’d not had a drink in hours. You thought you would feel relief once you were home. Instead, your chest heaved with exhaustion and anger. The thought of punching Pietro right in the face the only thing keeping you going.
You had to steal a map and trudge your way through some of the roughest parts of New York, knowing it would have taken Pietro minutes to find you. That he was probably sat with his feet up, laughing at you. He was the biggest asshole of them all.
Ignoring the burning pain with each step, you’re determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you in pain. One hand gripping the counter to steady yourself you take out a bottle of water, swigging it down then feeling nauseous.
“Y/n? Where have you been no one’s seen you since this morning?”
As soon as you saw Pietro sprawled over the sofa with that complacent smirk on his face, you lost it. Everything else zoned out and you stormed over to him, certain there was steam coming out of your ears.
Member: DK/Seokmin Genre: Angst Word Count: 1155 (this isn’t even a drabble anymore)
He hadn’t heard from you in six weeks. You had sent him a quick text that said ‘I’ll call you back in a little bit,’ except you never did. At first he thought you had just fallen asleep and then gotten too busy to talk to him, but after a few days he started to worry. He sent you text after text asking where you had gone, telling you that he loved you, telling you that he missed you. His stomach tied itself in knots as each day without a reply passed. If you weren’t on entirely different continents, he would have been at your door already.
Long distance relationships were hard. Secret long distance relationships were even harder. What wasn’t hard, however, was disappearing without a trace. Seokmin couldn’t show up at your door to check up on you, and he couldn’t call up any of your friends to ask about you. Every night that passed without word from you, he grew more and more anxious. Had something terrible happened to you? Had you been kidnapped? Had you just broken your phone and lost all your contacts? Had you decided that it was too much keeping this relationship up, and decided to just ghost on him? He couldn’t decide if knowing would have been worse than not knowing what happened.
He found himself listening to his voicemails to feel close to you again. He replayed the short clips of you saying things like ‘get on skype, dork, I miss you’ or ‘you must be asleep, I just wanted to call and let you know that I love you’ and he tried to hold back his tears. Tried.
After a month and a half, he was still just as broken up. He had no idea where the love of his life had gone, and there was no way he was going to just get over that. He had to do something. He’d never been to where you lived. You had always been the one to visit him, so he had no clue where to find where your apartment was. He knew what city you lived in. He knew that you worked at a big chain bookstore. All he had to do was get to your city and figure out which bookstore that was. Was this a little creepy? Yeah. Was it gonna stop him? Not at all.
As soon as he had a week off, he was on a plane. He landed and immediately got in a rental car, plugging in the name of the bookstore into the GPS. There were ten locations in your city alone. He didn’t even think about the hassle, his mind was only set on you. It took him hours. Store after store was the same.
“Does Y/N work here?”
He’d just dash back out the door, leaving a confused employee behind. He’d get in the rental car, cross this location off his list, and make his way to the next store. After he had already been to nine stores, he started to get nervous. He sat in the parking lot mulling over what to do if this wasn’t it. He had nowhere else to go after this. He held his breath and exited the car. He went in and came up to the counter like he had done nine times before.
“Does Y/N work here?” he asked quietly.
“Oh, yeah, uh, yeah. Not since the thing…but I guess they might be back soon?” the woman at the counter said, a nervous edge on her voice.
“What do you mean, what thing?”
The woman gave him your address and told him the basics of what had happened. He couldn’t believe what he heard, but he needed to get to you quick after hearing it. He sped to your apartment building, and tried his hardest to keep his breath steady as he went up the escalator up to your floor. His heart was about to beat out of his chest by the time he was knocking on your door.
“One minute,” he heard you call from inside. His chest clenched of the sound he had missed so, so much. There was rusting on the other side of the room for a long time. The door finally opened with a struggle, and he was taken aback from the sight of you. You were shockingly beautiful to him still, he took in the color of your hair, the look of your nose, and the way you mouth opened in surprise at the sight of him. He also couldn’t help but notice the new things about you he hadn’t gotten to see yet. The crutch you supported yourself on, and the small bandaged lump connected to your shoulder where your arm once was.
You collapsed forward into him as you burst into tears, and he carefully held you in his arms as you clutched him with your one remaining hand. You had missed him just as much as he had missed you, and now he was right in front of you. After the accident you hadn’t physically been able to reach out to him, but once you could… you weren’t sure if you wanted to. Would he love you even if you were broken like this?
You ended up back inside your apartment on your couch, where you clung to him and cried and apologized. You explained what happened, you told him about how you were lucky to escape with your life. There was no way you should have lived after your little car collided with a semi, but you did. Or, at least, most of you did. You lost your arm and a lot of feeling in one of your legs. Your life would never be the same, and you didn’t wanna weigh your celebrity boyfriend down with it. He had too much on his plate already.
Except, you wouldn’t weigh him down. He comforted you. He told you that losing you for those six weeks was the worst experience of his life. He loved you. And he wasn’t going to let you forget that.
“Seokmin?” you said, wiping the last tears from your face.
“Yeah?” he smiled down at you and rubbed your side comfortingly.
“Do you realize what today is?”
“…Tuesday?” he furrowed his brows, thinking hard.
“It’s Valentine’s day.” you said, smiling back at him for the first time since he arrived. You watched his eyes widen.
“Oh my god, I totally forgot! I’m so sorry, oh my god, I should leave and buy you cho–”
“Shhhhh.” you hushed. “This is the best thing I could have ever asked for. Other than my arm back.” you joked, cringing at your own situation. It was true, though. He really loved you. Enough to cross the ocean and search high and low for you. Enough to love you when you’ve broken. Enough to stay with you through anything.
Can you write something vaderwan (but not emperor vader verse) where ter order 66, Vaderkin kidnaps obi-Wan and keeps him as a prisoner, and is basically fully ready to stockholm/gloat/try to turn/dubcon the hell out of him - and Obi-Wan just ignores him. Won't give him the time of day, or answer any of his baiting with bantering back - and Vaderkin starts to realize that he may have lost something irreplaceable.
The Jedi’s back hit the wall hard enough to smack his head against
it, a sound crack resonating through the entire room as it impacted.
And yet, yet after blinking stars out of his eyes, Obi-Wan firmly
kept his eyes to the side.
“Damn it Obi-Wan, LOOK at me!” Anakin snarled, hands digging into
the others shoulders, his mech hand digging hard enough to bruise he
Except for a slight tensing, Obi-Wan made no outward reaction. He
never did, not even when Anakin hurt him.
He knew that his master wouldn’t be happy, knew that he would
reticent when captured and contained in the mansion that belonged to
Darth Vader, hand of the Emperor.
But he hadn’t expected him to stop responding to him at all and
never say a word to him. He hadn’t expected the man to become a
shadow of his former self that never spoke.
Anakin snarled before taking note of the smear of red against the
wall behind Obi-Wan, dragging the other forward against his chest to
check on the back of his head, running his fingers through the others
ginger hair to find the wound he had cracked open.
“Blasted Obi-Wan, stop this. Talk to me. Look at me.” He growled
quieter, pulling bacta of his belt to treat him.
He had started carrying a bacta tube on himself after the first month
of Obi-Wan capture when everyday ended with Obi-Wan bleeding or
bruised in some manner.
He didn’t mean to, not usually but Obi-Wan always managed to make
him mad, even without saying anything. This wasn’t what he wanted
when he had managed to subdue Obi-Wan on Mustafar, he hadn’t wanted
a shell of a man who never spoke and never looked at him.
It was just a ghost with Obi-Wan’s face.
“Damn it Obi-Wan…talk to me.” Anakin whispered, cupping the
back of the others still bloody head to tuck him against his
shoulder, burying his nose in the others hair to take in the familiar
scent. He caressed bloody strands of hair as the bacta worked on the
wound. “I can be gentle if you just…look at me?” He murmured.
Once again there was no reaction.
All Obi-Wan did was remain still, breathing against his black
“Obi-Wan.” He whispered, a tinge of desperation entering his
Someone knocked on the door and Anakin pulled away with a snarl.
“Enter!” He growled, eyes glowing yellow as the door slid open to
reveal Appo. “Yes?”
“Sir, the Emperor is calling for you. He is requesting your
“I…see.” Anakin grumbled, glancing at the Jedi by his side and
the smear of blood on the wall. “Tell him I’m on my way.”
Appo gave a salute then marched away.
“…I’ll be back once the Emperor has given me his orders
Obi-Wan. Eat something while I’m gone.” Anakin turned back to the
Jedi, cupping his chin and raising his head. Once again Obi-Wan
focused his eyes anywhere but on him and the blond growled a bit
before desperately reigning in his emotions, leaving in a swirl of
black robes and anger.
In the room Obi-Wan gave a shaky breath before slowly reaching up to
the back of his head and touching the sticky hair, wincing a bit.
‘Shower…I need a shower…’ He moved through the rooms, the
Force suppressor collar almost unnoticeable now with months of wear.
He could still access the Force, could feel it move around him and
the galaxy but could no longer utilize it. Any attempt left him dizzy
He’d once almost fallen from the balcony when he attempted and only
the clone checking in on him grabbing him by his tunic had saved him
from splattering on the ground far below.
Obi-Wan still wasn’t sure if he was grateful or not.
He carefully undid his clothes and threw them in the hamper, touching
the red marks on his shoulder where Vader’s mech hand had grabbed
him, rubbing the marks carefully before sighing and stepping into the
shower, opting for the water instead of sonic.
Only then did he give a proper reaction, breath stuttering carefully
as he cried under the warm spray of the shower.
Asleep, that was the only time Obi-Wan responded to his touch.
Anakin knelt by the couch and continued slowly stroking the redhead’s
cheek, smiling when he leaned into the touch, subconsciously seeking
more of it.
This was the only time he got to see the softer and needier side of
Not the unwilling glances to the side and the inaction when Anakin
When Obi-Wan wasn’t aware.
The Sith gritted his teeth at that thought, hand stilling.
He thought that by sparing Obi-Wan, he could keep at least the other
man in his life. But it seemed in trying to save those he loved the
most…he had lost it all.
This is my fic for the prompt Kisses from Kagehina Week 2017. Hope you like it!!!
Hinata had always loved kisses. One of his favorite childhood memories was of his mom tucking him in. He would lie in his bed and she would come to his room and gently pull the covers over him. She would then sing him a lullaby and he would close his eyes and let her sweet voice guide him to sleep. Right before he slipped away to dreamland he would feel the gentle press of her lips against his forehead. Hinata would relax completely at that and his breath would even out.
When Natsu was born he was delighted to find out she was a touchy-feely child, much like himself. They would often cuddle when watching movies and whenever he played dolls with her she would hug him tight and kiss his cheek. He absolutely loved the open-mouthed kisses she pressed against his cheek while she was still trying to learn how to do it. Hinata was always gentle with her, even as the hyperactive child he was. He would help his mom tucking her in and follow her gesture of leaning down and ever so gently pressing his lips to her forehead.
When Hinata went to school he was seen as quite the odd kid. He kissed his friends hello and goodbye because that was what they did at home. One day his mother was called to the school and Hinata was puzzled because he hadn’t done anything wrong. He stayed alone in the hallway as the teacher talked to his mom. When she came out her face was red, her eyes were glassed over and her mouth was pressed into a thin line. She managed to give him a smile and offered him her hand. He clung to it like it was his lifeline and asked his mom what was wrong. She told him not to worry, that they would talk at home.
A Drabble Games fic requested by Anonymous, featuring Thorin, Fili, and Kili
66: “It’s not like I go looking for trouble. It just sort of finds me.” 42: “I’m not getting into trouble for you.”
Based on “Imagine courting Thorin and having to earn Fili and Kili’s approval, so you play pranks with them on the rest of the Company” from ImaginexHobbit.
“I’m not getting into trouble for you.”
You crossed your arms, facing down the pair of dwarves who stood before you with matching glints of mischief in their eyes. Oh, Fili and Kili could be a laugh, to be sure, and they’d already managed to persuade you to join them in a handful of harmless pranks, but at their latest scheme you had every intention of drawing the line.
“You won’t, that’s the beauty of it,” Kili enthused.
“This is Dwalin we’re talking about,” you pointed out. “He will kill me. Slowly.”
“Not with Thorin’s braid in your hair, he won’t,” Fili said airily, as he leaned to look over the rampart at the guards stationed at the Gate.
“It’s foolproof,” Kili promised, tugging you by the arm to survey the scene below. “Dwalin comes to oversee the changing of the guard, you tip the water over his head and run. He’ll never know who did it.”
[ i know that you guys probably wanted a nice confrontation of Yoongi finding out about his mistake and stuff, but I think it’s an overdone scene, probably something you’re read a lot of times. So , i decided to focus more on the two of them and how they move on. i’m sorry if it’s disappointing in any way. ]
“ How is he, these days?” i said awkwardly, watching Namjoon add some sugar to his coffee. He was still dressed in his Hospital scrubs but clearly the cafe served better coffee than what he could get in the hospital so he looked happy enough.
“Y/N, why can you not be a normal bitter ex, spewing curses at the idiot? it should make things easier for everyone.”
“You and i both know Yoongi doesn’t deserve that. You’re his oldest , most trusted friend. Are you honestly telling me yoongi left me because he wanted to? i know him …. i know how he gets, alright? i know that he has a way of blaming himself for everything that goes wrong in the entire universe. All i wasnt is for a chance to get him back.” I said softly.
“i should never have told him about Jiyeon.” He said drily. “ if i hadn’t, he would have returned to you. He thinks he doesn’t deserve you anymore.”
“Fine. what else can you tell me about him,right now?”
“there’s nothing much to say. his mother wanted him to marry jiyeon. He refused. She threatened to fire him. He decided he would fire her instead. And now we’re here.”
“I don’t think-”
“He’ll pull through. Don’t worry about him. “
“i know he’ll pull through. He always does. but that’s not what I want to know… Is he happy without me, Namjoon? If you tell me that he’s happy without me, i’ll drop this right now. i’ll stop contacting him, like everyone wants me to.”
“You’re dating Seokjin….”
“it’s not… It isn’t anything even remotely serious. And that’s something I’ll deal with in my own time and…”
“Hyung think’s Seokjin is better for you than him. He thinks you really love Seokljin.”
the urge to kick Min Yoongi was growing by the minute.
“He was the one who divorced me…” i hissed angrily.
“i think he regretted it almost immediately.”
“So why one earth didn’t he come back to me, immediately?”
“You know how he gets…” Namjoon shrugged.
ugh. Yes. I knew how he got. Yoongi wasn’t a fighter. At least not for himself. He would fight death , his own body and everyone in the world to save a life, to do the right thing. But he would never fight for things he wanted for himself.
in this case, me.
“I love him. i know all of you think he doesn’t deserve it but i love him. i don’t think i can stop loving him. i already tried. I thought i’d succeeded even. but when i saw him last week… i just… I love Min Yoongi and nothing he does is going to change that.” i said miserably.
Namjoon gave me a sympathetic smile.
“He’s going to fight you every step of the way.” He said softly.
“Not just him. My sister may kill me.”
“Tell me you’re joking.” My sister said calmly, watching as i carefully curled my lashes, the mascara dewy and perfect .
“i’m an adult. I can make my own decision here.” i said with a shrug.
“clearly not, if said decision involves going back to the man who fucking abandoned you when you needed him the most…”
“No. He didn’t abandon me. He made sure i got moved to my home town, to my mother and my sister who he knew would be able to take care of me.”
i hadn’t told my mother and sister about jiyeon or about what she’d done. it had been hard enough to come to terms with it on my own. They still thought Yoongi had left because he was a bastard.
only i knew that Yoongi left because he thought that was what i’d want. or so i hoped. A part of me still balked at the idea of him actually not wanting me. But i wouldn’t think about that.
i probably would have let it go if he hadn’t sent me those damn messages, i thought bleakly.
They were yoongi’s version of a cry for help. I could hardly, in good conscience , ignore him.
“ you’re insane.” My sister said, sounding defeated and I smiled.
“And you’re the best sister i could have evr had, unnie. but this time, i need to do this for myself.”
“i’m going to kill someone.” i said through gritted teeth and Seokjin sighed.
“they’re reporters. Journalists. And they’re doing their job. Yoongi’s decision to pull out from his parents’ partnership is going to affect a lot of people.”
“But can’t they be civil about it…?!” i said miserably, staring up at the huge raised podium where Yoongi sat behind a table calmly addressing increasingly ridiculous question, each one shaped to sound like a backhanded insult.
“Dr. Min, do you think innocent children should bear the brunt of your own personal tantrums with your parents?” one of the women said and i clenched my fists.
“I’m sorry. The whole point of this conference is to make sure that doesn’t happen. i’m hoping that generous contributors will come forward to support the Hospital and it’s cause, so that children will not be affected by this.” Yoongi said softly, voice low and even . He was dressed in a white button down and a black jacket. Blue jeans , faded and worn and playful black sneakers made him look so much younger than his thirty years. i wanted to hug him so badly that i had to physically grip the chair and stop myself from launching myself at him.
How he hated being in the spotlight. He hated socializing. Hated being interviewed. and yet here was , doing all of that. getting his very credibility torn down because of his vile, disgusting mother.
“Is it true your wife divorced you because you couldn’t save your own child?”
i froze in place.
So did Yoongi. i saw the blood drain out of his face , leaving his pale as a parchment and I felt my own heart throb with disbelief and sheer unadulterated agony at how callously the woman said those words.
“i… I’m not perfect, of course. i have lost patients before and yes, the loss of my own child was… difficult. i do take full responsibility for it. I hope she’ll forgive me for it and….”
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” I shouted, amazed that he wasn’t just shooting that woman down instead of actually apologizing….
i couldn’t stop myself as I pushed my way past the other reporters, reaching the woman who had just opened her mouth ans said those words to him.
“How many dying kids have you saved, Ms.. “ i glanced at her name tag .” Lee?”
She blinked, looking shocked.
“How many families have you offered free healthcare too. Hell, how many dollars of your money have you spent on charities that support kids? and yet,. here you stand accusing my husband of being a murderer, when in fact, you and your kind , spreading such filthy lies about this good man are indirectly contributing to the death of hundreds and thousands of children, right this minute! “ I snarled.
She just stared at me, gaping and i felt a hand on my wrist yanking me hard and i turned around to see Yoongi.
“what the fuck are you doing here, Y/n?” He hissed and i glared at him.
“standing up for you! the way you should be !!! you don’t have to grovel in front of these idiots!! Yoongi, you’re a world class surgeon who has saved countless lives and these filthy mongrels are nothing but vermin at the bottle of a barrel. Tell me Miss Lee, how much did my mother in law pay you to spew such vile things about my husband?”
“okay! that’s enough.. We’re leaving..” yoongi yanked on my arm and i glared at him but he wouldn’t let go.
“Come with me, you stupid woman. NOW!!”
I let myself get dragged out of the place , aware of the flashing cameras and the furiously scribbling pens.
i’d probably made everything worse but I wouldn’t regret it.
“You’re taking sleeping pills again? Why?” i said curiously, staring at the inside of his bedroom cabinet, while Yoongi stood awkwardly to the side. He was dressed in the white shirt and jeans having tossed his jacket , hair left in messy disarray, the gray tinged strands falling into his eyes and his skin pale underneath the garish white light.
“whatever that woman said was nonsense, okay? it shouldn’t even be a question at this point but i’m telling you anyway. You’re not the one who’s to be blamed. i just…”
“Why are you here, Y/N?” He said tiredly, watching as i grabbed the last bottle of pills and peered at the label.
“I already spoke to my agents. I’ve turned my exhibit into an auction. All the proceeds will go to your hospital. i don’t know if it will be a lot.. but i think it could really help. “ i said hastily.
yoongi stared at me.
“What are you trying to do?” He said softly.
“Just making sure i don’t misread a label and take the wrong pill. Like i did before.” i said softly.
He went very still next to me and i sighed.
“Yoongi about what happened… jiyeon told me all about it. I don’t blame you for doing what you did…” i said softly and Yoongi shook his head. moving a bit away.
“it was all my fault… i … i let her do that to you..” He said , voice cracking.
Jiyeon had been cruel, malicious but she had also had a conscience. But she had helped me understand that yoongi hadn’t left me because of the abortion. A part of me had wanted to take the first flight out to the UK just to explain what had happened to my oblivious, impulsive ex husband but i had held back, opting to tell Namjoon about it. i’d asked him to be discreet about it.
and Namjoon had told Yoongi about it.
And then I’d waited for a year, waiting for yoongi to come to his senses and to come back.
Except he never did.
“i’m going to get her medical license cancelled. I.. I know i should have guessed it earlier , i just never imagined she would.. do something so vile and disgusting. I wanted to kill her… i still do.. She doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as us.. She… ”
i moved to touch him but he looked stricken and i stopped, clenching my fingers in embarrassment.
“Yoongi stop. it’s over. it was a long time ago. she apologized to me.” I said, recalling the absolute nightmare of a confession that I’d been treated to, right after I’d signed the divorce papers.
“Apologized?!!” Yoongi shouted and i flinched. “ how could a fucking apology ever make up for what she did to us… She destroyed us.. She..”
“She did no such thing. If we really were good for each other we would have come out stronger , not fizzled and died!” i snapped , impatiently. He hesitated, looking torn and so guilty that i bit my lips.
“Yoongi, i know that we both screwed up. i wasn’t innocent either. i never saw that child as a …. child. i thought it would be a way to keep you with me… like a handcuff or soemthing. I was guilty of that… i didn’t even get that tests till i was nearly three months pregnant…. I was reckless… I…”
“You just trusted her! She was the one who should have had a bloody heart.. She killed our baby….!” He said brokenly and I felt my throat go dry.
i opened my mouth to protest, but he wasn’t done.
“but more importantly, she nearly killed you..!! “ He took a deep breath. “ i never hated myself more, than when i saw you lying there on my operation table, fighting for your life because of how neglectful I’d been.”
“i’m fine. I’m here.” I said stupidly.
“it wasn’t even about the baby, Y/N… We could have had another one. You almost died! what if i lost you on that table?! I would have followed you right away…”
“Stop! oh my God.. Don’t even joke about something like that…!”
“You think I’m joking? You think i wouldn’t have done it? You think i wouldn;t have died for you? You don’t think i still would?! You’re.. You’re the most… fuck.. Yo’re the only one who matters… it’s always been you…”
I stared at him.
“Don’t stay stuff like that, if you don’t mean it.” i said softly.
“I… i mean it. Of course I do… I can’t even apologize because i don’t deserve your forgiveness…. “
I was so sick of that phrase.
“Are you going to apologize, anyway?” I said stiltedly.
“i don’t think i could ever dare to apologize. Not after what i did… I should have been there .. I should have helped you and…”
“Well, how can i forgive you if you can’t even apologize?” I said casually.
Yoongi stopped short.
“i forgive you. I do… You’re here and i just want to be with y-”
“No. Stop. Don’t! don’t finish that sentence! You don’t know what you’re asking for!. ” He said desperately and I reached out for him but he stepped back hastily.
“you should leave…”
And there he was, pushing me away, all over again. Why was it so damn hard to love this man.!! What kind of sins had my past self committed to be stuck with this man?!
“i’m not leaving. Why should i… You just said that you care about me… You fucked up, yes. You hurt me. you can spend the rest of your life making it up to me but make no mistake, you are spending the rest of your life with me. i refuse to settle for anything else, after all the crap you put me through,. “
Yoongi continued to stare at me.
“i’ll hurt you.” He whispered.
i felt relief flood through me. He was caving. I knew it.
“i know.” I said softly, stepping closer and lightly grabbing his hand, taking it up to my waist. His arms curled around my body and i felt my bones turn to ash in sheer want.
“I’m not… I’m such a shitty husband… I’ll probably hurt you in so many ways and…”
“just kiss me.”
“Y/N.. i don’t deserve you.” He said softly.
“No. but you have me. And i’m not leaving. ”
i moved forward, capturing his lips with mine.
Author’s note : there will be one more part , just to tie things up nicely. Do you guys want some smut?. kekeke...