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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

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part 10 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

pairing: Francisco (Frankie, Catfish) Morales x reader

wordcount: 3k

warnings: so so soo much fluff. clouds and clouds worth. kissing, implications of sex (blink and you’ll miss it)

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier Baseball AU! Trust me, you don’t need to know anything about baseball.

In this chapter, you and Frankie finish the season and the summer, and know it’s only the beginning.

notes: thank you all so much for supporting this little story of mine! I genuinely am blown away by how kind everyone has been! originally I planned on this series just being a couple of one-shots set in the same universe, but it got away form me, and I can’t believe so many of you came along for the ride. some of those stories will come in time, but thank you thank you thank you to everyone who stuck around this long! all the love for all of you!

It was a beautiful day for a baseball game.

The sun was shining and for once your bones weren’t shaking with the rumble of the stadium as people stomped and cheered. In fact, the majority of the noise was from Frankie’s momma as she chattered across your lap to your grandfather. The two of them were discussing gardening and how well season was played, how proud they were, the best of friends. It was peaceful, almost, and most of the flashing lights and roaring crowds were away – it was the final game, a charity fundraiser, all fun.

You could see your catcher as he turned, looking at your section like he couldn’t help but search for you, and you smiled, heart as full and as warm as the sun on your shoulders. His curls were sticking out from under his helmet haphazardly, the pads on his shoulders and thighs making him even more solid, and it was a sight that you’d never get tired of. Combined with the smells of warm pastries, jalapeños and melted cheese, contentment settled into your soul like a hand in a glove, a perfect fit.

It was the of the ninth and they were playing well, encouraged by the cause and playing for the love of of the game instead of a paycheck. Behind you, you heard someone mention just how well Frankie had batted this season, and you brushed pan dulce sugar from your lap.

The players had told you last week after all the big games were done why Santi had offered to pay for you and James to fly to see their final games. At the time, it had baffled you how intensely they insisted, how eagerly the pushed it, and how your boyfriend had looked equal parts embarrassed and hopeful, but eventually you agreed, assuming you could get the time off from work. When the secret came out you laughed, shaking your head and rolling your eyes.

They had exchanged smiles and shrugged and shared knowing glances as they let you explain away what they knew was true. You were their luck.

The thought was long gone from your mind now though, as Ben was doing weird poses on the field, and you heard chuckles ripple through the crowds. Fans of him and the team alike were endlessly charmed, and you knew you’d catch comments about it for months to come. His brother was just standing, and still you heard dreamy sighs of Will’s name, and made a mental note to tease him after the game about his “blonde halo”. Whatever that meant.

Santi threw a perfect curveball, and when it landed firmly in Frankie’s glove, you heard a girl swoon, “That’s my man!” and the laughter of her friends, as they called her “Mrs. Morales”.

“No!” his momma was glaring over her shoulder tugging on your elbow, as if physically fighting them was a viable option. You tugged back, making soothing noises as she protested, “Mi frijol.” The sweet lady muttered something else and before your heart could latch on to what you could’ve sworn was something about the future and tu marido you moved on.

“I know, I know,” you were saying, when James leaned over, glint in his sweet, aging eyes.

“She’s right, honey,” he said, only encouraging his friend, and you grinned.

“He’s my boy,” she said again with an air of finality, “and yours."

Looking at your grandfather sheepishly, you pointed at your shirt and shrugged as he said, “Right again.”

You were wearing his backup Jersey.

Cheesy as it was, it felt good to have the little claim of his over your skin, and while it wasn’t obvious to everyone, you wore it with pride. Comments from his fans slid off it like raindrops on a tin roof, and while you apricated her inclusion, you didn’t need it to know he was yours, as you were his.

Jimbo leaned towards the woman at your side and whispered conspiratorially in her ear, and she settled, and you left it, enjoying their friendship. The day was too lovely for anything else, anyway.

Catch, catch, walk, look for his girlfriend, sit, swing, hit, run, walk, sit. Repeat.

Nothing so eventful happened the last few minutes of the game, and as the Will went out for his final bat, you felt a surprising wave of bittersweet nostalgia for all that had passed since the opening game, cold as an evening breeze.

Then the ball cracked against the bat, and the sound snapped you back, and you felt a fire under your breastbone, reminding you the best was yet to come.

Frankie’s mom finished her final cheers enthusiastically, all annoyance long gone, and she pulled you into a hug.

“Nieta is calling. Hug Francisco for me, hija, and I’ll see you tomorrow?” You nodded, squeezing her back almost as hard. You and Frankie were using his first real day off to babysit and get some quality time, and both of you were well aware this was hardly goodbye. You gave a gentler hug to your grandfather, who was going with her, whispering “Bye Jimbo,” as you kissed his cheek. He had conspired to let you stay out for the evening, and while you’d miss driving him home, you were grateful for the opportunity.

Seeing them safely as far as you could, your feet danced with excitement. Like it had been more than handful of times, they knew the path to the locker rooms, carrying you so light you were almost floating. When you slid into the waiting room, Frankie was already clean and looking for you anxiously. Maybe you should’ve given him a little wave from across the room, but you could do better.

You ducked away from his line of sight, and snuck around behind him before say, “hey, batter, batter.” He whipped around and before you could even register the grin on his face, he was pulling you against his chest.

“Hey yourself,” he said, and the two of you got one sweet, slightly needy kiss before you heard good-natured groans.

“It’s been like month,” Santi said, ruffling your hair as you stepped back, “Aren’t you guys done flirting?” You stuck your tongue out at him, wondering if you were fast enough to flick him in the forehead.

“Don’t bother,” Will said, his tone resigned but playful as he hugged you too. “Be happy he got her to stick around.” You pulled a face, and Benny laughed. They all knew by now that it was more than a summer fling, even Tom, who you realized hadn’t come out yet.

When you asked, they winced, and you dropped the topic, knowing they would tell you in their own time. Frankie pulled you back to him, his warm fingers lacing with yours as you herded them towards the door.

They were still working on things, still trying to figure out what their next steps looked like.

For now, you owed your baseball boys a dinner.

It had taken you a couple of times cooking for them to get the portions right. The Miller boys ate like they were hollow, and after a game was a testament to that.

Thankfully, you had more than enough this time, having been preparing their favorites for days with the enthusiastic help from Frankie’s mom, and begrudging help from his sister as a thank you to her hermano. The piled into your little space and ate gratefully, telling you about the game like you knew what they were talking about.

“Benny, why were you –” his deep laughter cut you off, and your hand shot out to grab Will’s wrist mid-throw. You had a rule against projectile food to keep them from squabbling like children at your makeshift dinner table. The dinner roll fell to his plate as Benny tried to explain, and Santi deadpanned.

“I was stretching, and I got distracted –”

“You were flirting with the entire stadium, Ben.”

“No! Well –”

It was warm and bright, eating dinner with them like a family, teasing and laughter filling the space like clear broth in the cool of night.

Frankie’s hand found your knee under the table.

The best part about these replacement-parties was watching them all try to help clean up. You were lucky professional athletes had fast reflexes, or you would’ve lost more than a few dishes to their shenanigans. They insisted, wouldn’t let you help, and things probably would’ve been put back correctly if you had, but it was great, letting things play out however they may. Maybe years and years down the road, you would tell a younger generation that you had some of the world’s most desirable athletes fighting in your kitchen over where you kept your dish soap refills.

And after, they would collapse in your living room, unearthing all the games from your shelves. One of your favorite moments from the summer was coming through thrift stores for games, ignoring the stare of jealousy and making ridiculous bets.

All the while, Frankie kept as close to you as he could, too busy watching you with wrinkles in the corners of his eyes to be embarrassed of his rambunctious friends.

When you and Will won the first game of the evening, he accidentally hit you in the face with the back of his hand as he flung his arms open in triumph.

It hadn’t hurt as badly as it would’ve if his brother had been the one talking with his hands, but Frankie had still thumped him in the back of the head before he followed you to the kitchen.

“Baby, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Frankie,” you laughed, but he was already taking the pack of frozen peas from your hand to press it against the lump forming on your temple. He was gentle, and the air shifted, like there was more on his mind than your minor injury. Brown eyes searching yours, you wished you knew what he was thinking.

“Francisco?” Your hands had settled on his chest but the moved around his neck when he moved the ice to ghost his lips over the spot. He didn’t answer for a moment, just setting the peas aside, and carefully trapping you against the counter.

There were noises of good-natured arguing coming from the living room, and you knew he was taking advantage of their distraction, carving a little pocket for the two of you in time.

“Te adoro,” his lips were almost hot as they pressed into yours. “I love you,” he said, so close you could feel the hairs on his upper lip still.

For the past month, your relationship had been fast, jumpstarting to serious and staying that was, but this was new. It was one thing, for him to tell you he wanted something real with you, wanted you to be a part of his life, and another to hear him say he loved you simply, without abandon. Still, you didn’t hesitate.

“I love you too.”

He kissed you again, unhurried, and you almost couldn’t return it, you were smiling so widely. Your bump was long forgotten.

When the two of you came out the kitchen, the others had barely noticed you were gone and Ben immediately was accusing you of cheating, but Santi shot you a knowing smile.

There was a gap of time when a season ended, when Molly’s inbox was mercifully void of emails. It was a time when the chaos of her job slowed, for a bit before she began her work for the off-season, and she relished it with every fiber of her being.

This particular gap began wrapped up in sheets with Tom, her Tom, kissing and wishing the world outside was a simple as this, in the little bubble of her room.

She could always tell though, when his mind was no longer filled with her, and the other sides of him began to leak through the cracks. His eyes moved with urgency instead of appreciation his hands moved a little slower and then in sudden jerks, and when he trailed off mid-sentence, she sighed.

“You told them, didn’t you?”

He rolled onto his back; his gaze pointed towards the ceiling.

“Right after the game,” he confessed, and she sighed again, sitting up. If nothing else, for him, she had endless patience.

“How’d that go?”

Her love was silent, thinking only of the embarrassment and defensiveness that had reared in his chest. The tilt of Santi’s head, Frankie’s slow nod. He wished Benny had been disappointed, wished Will had thought it was a joke.

“They understood,” Tom didn’t add that he hoped with all his considerable might that they had reacted stronger, hoped they had told him not to, said they needed him to stay, but they hadn’t. It wouldn’t have been true, anyway. They were growing, going somewhere he couldn’t follow.

Her hand ran over his chest as it filled with air, stilling over his heart.

“It’s time,” one of them said, and the other nodded.

Counseling. Rehab. Retirement.

Slowing down to coach at a local college.

He clenched his hand into a fist, and then relaxed, palm falling open, upwards.

The love of his life kissed his forehead.

It was time.

The first stop of the day was with James, spending the morning helping him around the house. Before this summer, you had thought you were his favorite grandchild, but he had essentially adopted Frankie months ago, and already liked him more than you.

The little old man talked excitedly about baseball and lectured your love on enjoying his off-season. He dragged him into the yard, talking his ear off about the benefits of different teas and the importance of volunteering with youth programs, and you settled inside, throwing away expired things from his fridge. Their absence was your only opportunity for the chore.

Honestly, the two of you needed to leave sooner than later and you weren’t sure how much time you had.

“Honey?” You dropped a can of whipped cream from a month ago guiltily.

“Yeah, Jimbo?”

He eyed you suspiciously but seemed too excited to be deterred by you.

“I put this together for you!” He said proudly, and you noticed a flash of the same mischief from yesterday in his eyes. Your grandfather handed you a box, and made you promise not to open in until you left. You hugged the sweet man, and smiled when Frankie did, too, before saying your goodbyes, thankful beyond words for him.

If it weren’t for him, you were sure you wouldn’t be climbing into the truck of your boyfriend, and certainly not having the catcher’s hand slide into yours. When you opened the box, the gratitude didn’t shrink, but your embarrassment rose.

Frankie laughed so hard you thought he was going to have to pull over.

It was full of Francisco Morales merchandise, signatures and memorabilia ranging from his very first baseball card to his most recent bobble head.

Frankie kissed your knuckles for the second time since you climbed into his truck, which was silly since it had only been three minutes since you left his mother’s house.

He could feel your look, answering before you even asked.

“I’m good, just… I love you,” he said, unable to keep his eyes on the road when he said it.

“I love you too, Frankie,” you said, wondering what prompted him.

“Could we… would you want to get dinner?” He looked thoughtful and you laughed.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

Your hand was lifted to his lips again, sending electricity up your spine as he confirmed.

The two of you had a bag full of Anita’s best by the time you entered his home, and he still hadn’t told you what was on his mind. The two of you ate, sharing stories about the day’s adventures, helping his mother around the house and watching, Bianca, his sweet, tiny new niece. You had a great conversation with his mother, and despite her excitable nature, she surprised you by asking you about your boundaries and promising not to overstep.

Frankie told you about his hermana, and her slowly opening up to the idea of letting him help her out, not as charity but family, and letting him shoulder some of the responsibilities. You watched the warmth in his eyes as he talked and wondered how it was possible for a single person to feel so safe.

Eventually the talking slowed, and you found yourself half falling asleep against the stretch of his chest, is hands slowing their wandering paths.

“Love?” he murmured into your hair. You hummed in response.

When he didn’t say anything, your mind woke, and you pulled yourself up, and into his lap, straddling him.

He looked up at you for a moment before you felt him sigh against you.

“I have this baby,” he said, and you couldn’t help but smile at his phrasing. Santi always said it was melodramatic. “Do you… is this all too much?”

His expression mirrored that of your first date, and you told him the same thing as you had then.

That you would stay, as long as he would have you. That you would navigate alongside him, that you were happy to. This time, you added that you loved him, and you felt him shift under you, anxiety leaking out of him, allowing solid adoration to replace it.

Frankie said, “Thank you,” against your mouth, and like a prayer. In the dim evening light, you kissed him, and as his hands slipped under your shirt to hold your sides, he held you for the first time like you were real.

And you were, this was something that wasn’t going away.

For the first time in a long time, it was a perfect day for something new, and his heart was here, beating under his hands.

translations:

pan dulce: pastries

mi frijol: my bean

tu marido: your husband

nieta: granddaughter

hija: daughter

hermano/a: brother, sister

te adoro: I adore you

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @pbeatriz

hey batter batter taglist:

@icanbeyourjedi @studyofawearymind @hnt-escape @athalien @the-witty-pen-name @daffodin @sarahjkl82-blog @pintsizemama @anaaaispunk @pjkimrn @dobbyjen @stuckontheceiling

#francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie x you #frankie x reader #triple frontier baseball au #hey batter batter #maybe i don't know people

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rjhpandapaws · 3 years

Note

Canon hankcon, "birthday" for the prompt, and that's all I'm giving you lmao. Whose birthday? Party or no acknowledgement? Homemade cake with haphazard candles or storebought fancy pants cake? How many birthday kisses from Sumo? I dunno you tell me.

//:3

It wasn’t any particular news that Hank didn’t enjoy his birthday much anymore. It might have been the grief but he had a hard time remembering a time before Cole when he did. It was old news to everyone it seemed except Connor who was waiting by his desk the morning of with a box in his hands. “Connor, what is that?” He asked as he moved to sit at his desk. “It’s a birthday present Hank.” Connor set the small box on his desk, “Isn’t it a human custom to celebrate them?” Hank bit off the annoyed sigh and reminded himself that Connor didn’t know better, “Most people do. When you’re young making it another year is kind of a big deal, but when you get to my age its just a reminder of how many opportunities you’ve missed.” Connor fell onto red for a moment and Hank regretted his words, “Do you want me to take it back?” His LED flickered as he did something in that head of his. “No.” Hank shook his head, “I appreciate it Connor, it was just a surprise. I’m not used to people caring after I spent years asking them not to.” Connor narrowed his eyes as he moved to sit as his desk, “I know now, so it won’t happen again.” This time Hank sighed, “Connor, its okay, I promise.” Connor still didn’t believe him from the looks of it, and Hank hated that he was right. He knew Connor meant well, but they were dancing around an unknown something and every time Connor would do something like this it reminded Hank that the android could do so much better. When he finally climbed out of his own head Hank noticed Connor had gotten to work. His LED was yellow which meant he was thinking about something too, but Hank didn’t have the nerve to ask. He looked down at the small precisely wrapped box and what it was that Connor had decided was worth getting him.

He opened the box as quietly as he could, he didn’t want to pull Connor out of his focus, the brunette hated that. The last thing he expected was concert tickets, they were rested on top of a neatly folded t-shirt. The tickets were for a holographic performance by Frank Sinatra. He set them aside and took out the t-shirt and found it was a signed Knight of The Black Death shirt, it was from one of their older tours and had only been up for bid. He didn’t know how Connor had found it or how much he had paid for it but he knew neither of them had been cheap. “Connor.” He said firmly. Connor came back to himself and tilted his head in question, “You know birthday gifts are supposed to be simple right?” “Yes.” Connor responded, “But they are also supposed to be something you enjoy, and I figured that this would have been better than simple. Jazz is something I know you enjoy, I would have done Knights of The Black Death but they aren’t currently touring.” “So you bought two tickets to one of the best jazz clubs in Detroit and won a bit on an auction only shirt.” Hank remarked. “Yes, I figured you could take a friend with you.” Connor continued, “I figured you would have more fun that way, the shirt took a while to get, but that’s the perk of not needing sleep.” Hank bit back a groan and found himself smiling nonetheless. He didn’t deserve this kind of effort and certainly not from Connor. Not to mention that Connor had seemed to greatly over estimate the number of friends he had. Other than Connor and possibly Jeff he really didn’t know who would want join him. According to the date on the tickets he had until that evening to decide.

He tucked the tickets back into the box and did what he could to focus on his work. His mind kept tracking back to how much thought Connor had put into this, some stupid day of the year to commemorate the mistake that was his life. That Connor had found their friendship for lack of a better word worth burning a few paychecks on. It baffled him. On some level he understood that not many people viewed him in the same light he viewed himself, but the fact that Connor of all people saw him as worth this much effort never failed to knock him off kilter. The day was thankfully slow, his head wasn’t in the right place for case work as it was, he wouldn’t have been able to handle a live one. He was pulled back to attention when Connor began to pack up his things for the day. Hank still needed to talk to him about the jazz club. God, how long had it been since he had asked someone on a date? Could this really even be considered a date if Connor was the one that bought the tickets? “Your vitals say you are distressed Hank. Is there something I can do to help?” Connor was standing with his blazer over his arm, it was a charcoal grey number he had picked out to replace the branded one. “Ah no. I was just thinking too much.” He said, here went nothing he supposed, “Would you like to go with me tonight? To the jazz club?” He didn’t miss the small smile that flashed across Connor’s features before he replied, “I would love too.” Hank nodded as relief crashed over him, “Think you could be ready by eight thirty?” “Of course.” Connor agreed, “I’ll see you then Hank.” He gave a polite wave before he turned to leave. Hank was grinning at his monitor like a damn fool.

He got home with just around two hours to get ready and realized he had nothing to wear that would hold a candle to how Connor would probably wind up looking. He dressed sharply despite being a plain clothes detective so it was certain he would be dressed to the nines for this too. He dug through his closet like a damn teenager looking for something that would fit and look nice. He needed to shower as well but that could wait until after he found something to wear that would be presentable. He decided on black jeans at the very least because he couldn’t be paid to wear slacks even for a maybe date. Then it was on to looking for a shirt which took longer than he would have liked. He eventually settled for a dark teal button down that he didn’t remember ever buying but was thankful to have nonetheless. The shower came next since he did have time, and after that it was just a matter of getting himself to look presentable. He shaved figuring it was time the beard went anyway and then tied his hair back in a half ponytail to keep it out of his face. He debated his glasses for a long moment before he put them on, he technically needed them all the time but he only used them at home to give his eyes a break. Satisfied with the way he looked, he fed Sumo, grabbed his leather jacket, and headed for the car. If he was lucky he would only be a little late to pick up Connor. Hank was not in anyway ready for the way Connor was dressed. He had changed his hair to loose curls and an undercut. He was in a maroon button down under a grey suit vest with black slacks. He was absent of a tie and the first couple buttons of the shirt were undone, and he looked nervous. When he saw Hank his LED rolled yellow and blinked a few times and Hank could have sworn it was red for one of them, but just as quick as it happened it was back to blue. His smile was back in place as he walked to the car.

“You clean up nicely Hank.” Connor said with what Hank was going to take a as a friendly smile because if he looked too much into how Connor had looked at him he was going to combust, “The glasses are a nice touch.” Hank let out a dry laugh, “Only you would find not being able to see attractive.” Connor let out a sound that was distinctly inhuman but still very clearly flustered, “I didn’t- that’s not- its-” He sighed, “That’s not to say that I don’t find you attractive normally.” There was a long stretch of silence after that then Connor seemed to realize what he had said and his LED strobed red. The car was alight with his very clear distress, “Could we maybe pretend that I didn’t just say that.” Hank chuckled lightly, “Of course. It will be just like it never happened.” Of course Hank planned to keep the memory for himself. It confirmed that he hadn’t been imagining whatever this unspoken thing was between them. It was unfortunate that it seemed that for now it would stay unspoken. At least he knew glasses at the very least were the key to getting under Connor’s skin. Maybe he could wear them to the station every once in a while. “For what it’s worth Con, you clean up pretty nice as well.” Hank remarked earning another smile from Connor. “I was worried I might be over dressed.” Connor admitted, “I’ve never been to one of these places before so I wasn’t sure what the dress code was.” Hank shook his head as he pulled into the parking lot, “You look just fine, I promise. If anything, I might be a little underdressed.”

“I think you look nice.” Connor said almost under his breath. Hank didn’t know if it was meant for him to hear, but he responded anyway, “Thanks.” He doesn’t get anymore response than Connor’s index finger cutting into his line of sight, “There’s a parking space four spaces up and to the left.” Hank hummed his acknowledgement and pulled into the space once they got to it. He checked to be sure he had the tickets and then got out. Connor followed suit. They were close enough to bump shoulders as they walked to the doors and Hank couldn’t stop the smile on his lips even if he had been paid. It might not have been a date officially, but that didn’t stop it from feeling like it. There was just something in the air that made it feel that way. After they were admitted Connor took his hand and lead him to a corner table with a clear view of the stage. They were early, there was still about twenty minutes before the opening act so the good tables were almost full. Like the parking space Hank chalked it up to Connor’s keen observation, he always was a few steps ahead of Hank it seemed. “Is this alright?” Connor asked his voice was void of its usual confidence. “Its perfect Connor.” Hank reassured, “There’s nothing to be worried about.” “You seemed upset with this idea earlier.” Connor said without looking at him. He was turned in a way that Hank couldn’t see his LED, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” “Hey.” Hank said sharply which caused Connor to look at him and like Hank had suspected his LED was on red, “I was just surprised. Its been... quite a while since someone had put that much thought into a gift. I love it Connor, and if I’m honest I’m still trying to convince myself that this all is real.”

Connor’s LED flickered and Hank knew he was being scanned. Under any other circumstance he would have found it frustrating but he got the feeling Connor was just as out of his depth as Hank was. He needed to know that Hank was being honest and Hank could give him that much. He apparently found what he was looking for because he smiled. “Then I suppose its a good thing I did.” Connor said after a moment, “Someone has to remind you that you matter.” Hank let out a dry laugh, “Damn Connor, usually you buy a man a drink before you get to the sweet talking.” It was a deflection and a poor one at that if the way Connor narrowed his eyes was anything to go by, “Hank.” “Right, no self deprecating comments.” Hank grumbled, “Do they even have android friendly drinks here. I probably should have thought about that sooner.” “They do, don’t worry.” Connor informed, “But even then, tonight isn’t about me.” Hank’s response was cut off by Connor narrowing his eyes once again, “How about we order a couple of drinks before the show starts.” Connor smiled, “That sounds nice.” Hank took his jacket off and rested it on the table to mark it as taken. Connor stood as well and they headed to the bar together. They were bumping shoulders again and Hank was tempted to take his hand again, but he didn’t. When Connor had taken his hand it was so they wouldn’t get separated by the crowd had settled down for the most part in anticipation for the show. Connor stepped up to the bar to order, “Could we get an Old Fashioned and a Thirium Sunset please?”

Hank wasn’t nearly as surprised that Connor knew what he liked to drink as he was at the fact that he had ordered an alcoholic drink for himself, or at least the android equivalent. The bartender seemed surprised as well but got to work on both drinks. “I didn’t know you drank.” Hank found himself saying. “I don’t usually.” Connor admitted, “But its not very gentlemanly to let your date drink alone.” Hank blue screened at that, he was relatively certain Connor meant it as a turn of phrase but he still hung on the word. Connor was smiling, he seemed glad to catch Hank off guard. The night after that passed in a haze of good music and better and conversation. Hank still had to drive so he stopped after two drinks, but the more Connor had the closer he moved and by the end of the night Connor’s usual perception of personal space was little more than a myth. Hank found he didn’t mind. When it came time to leave Connor’s balance was off so Hank put on of his arms over his shoulder and half packed Connor out of the jazz club. Connor tried his best to walk so it wasn’t as much dragging him as he thought it would be. “You have like, really pretty eyes.” Connor said out of the blue when they were nearly to the car, “They are very expressive.” Hank laughed, “Thank you Con.” He found himself wondering if androids could suffer from hangovers but he found himself sympathetic just in case. He got Connor in the car and belted in which wasn’t all that much of a feat, it seemed the cold air had helped him recover some. He was quiet on the way home, and if it weren’t for the fact that his eyes were roaming around the car Hank would have believed him to be in stasis.

“I think I’m back to normal now.” Connor said as Hank pulled into his complex, “Sorry about that.” Hank just chuckled, “Everyone gets that way when they find a drink they like. On top of that I’m pretty sure its your first time drinking. Getting like that is basically a right of passage.” “I could have at least picked a day other than your birthday to get like this.” Connor sighed as he looked down. Hank found a place to park and reached out to ruffle Connor’s hair, “It was nice to see you let loose for once. Tonight was nice.” Connor smiled, “I’m glad then.” If Hank were to be asked about this, he planned to blame it on his drinks, even if he and Connor both knew it was a lie. It was an out both of them could take if they decided this was a mistake, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from leaning in. The kiss he gave Connor was chaste and not much more than a brush of lips. The one Connor chased it with was the exact opposite and Hank found himself breathless when Connor pulled away. “I’ll see you tomorrow Lieutenant.” He said with a wink as he got out, “Happy Birthday.” Hank watched him walk into the building still waiting for his brain to come back online. Of all the ways he expected tonight to end, this was not one of them. Happy Birthday indeed.

@irrelevantbutfabulous

(Prompt from this list)

#Canonverse 'short'#Hankcon #Hannor #dbh hank #dbh connor #dbh fic #dbh #140 Follower Ask Event!#ask panda #panda has all the answers!

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ilguna · 4 years

Text

Metanoia - Epilogue (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 1.7k

Warnings; swearing

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

You grab the handle on the suitcase, pulling it behind you as you leave the train. You take your time looking over the train station, as others move past you at a much faster rate. They go down the stairs carelessly, into the welcoming arms of their family.

You take in a deep breath, “Salt.”

Going down the steps, you make sure to pull down your sunglasses. If there’s any district in this god forsaken country that gets the most sun, it has to be District Four. At this point, the sunglasses are a necessity. It’s something you check off each time you leave the house.

For a while, you settle for dragging the suitcase behind you. Up until you decide that you’d rather carry it than have to kick out a rock every three seconds. You lean over, picking up the fabric handle and walking with it that way.

On the way to victor’s village, you enjoy the looks you get. Not everyone is used to the fact that you had committed to a place like District Four. Especially so selfishly. It’s something you’d read in one of those boring romance novels that the Capitol produces.

The only reason why you read them anymore is for the comedy effect. But recently, you’ve been reading a rather interesting one. Hell, you’d even say it was about you because the details are so fine-tuned.

A wealthy, uptown girl from a better part of the city meets a boy that is much more humbled, and down to earth. The two of them fight it out, until they realize that they’re so helplessly in love with each other, right in the middle of a battle or the toughest part of their lives. And at the end of the book, they get together because it was just meant to be.

Except, you have a tattoo and a gut feeling that automatically matches you to Finnick. You two are so completely opposites but at the same time you’re the same person, just split in two.

Also, you wouldn’t call Finnick poor by any means. He was just as wealthy as you were at some point. Two victors, with the same amount of money on a paycheck every month. Two grand houses with no family and more friends than you remember having before you left.

Anyway, the people in District Four aren’t used to the idea because you make a point every time you come back. You wear your best outfit, the most expensive sunglasses, and you always have a bag attached to your backpack that has Finnick’s name all over it.

He hates the gifts, but you can’t help but to feel guilty every time you go on vacation to the Capitol. You like to make it up by buying him shitty t-shirts that have his face on it, and then one good item that he’ll likely use until it’s worth or broken. The last one you bought was a watch that was supposed to be waterproof.

It wasn’t. Broke the first time he jumped into the water. Thankfully, it wasn’t as electronic as the shop had declared either. It didn’t hurt Finnick at all when it ended up malfunctioning.

The funniest part was when he tried to hide it from you because he thought you’d be mad at him. It wasn’t the case at all, you got on the phone with the owner of the store and screamed in their ear, and then threatened to burn down their store the next time you were in the Capitol unless they gave you a refund.

You can imagine what they chose to do.

You turn the corner, taking the path to victor’s village. All the houses that aren’t occupied have their doors nailed shut tightly, even Annie’s old place. No one is allowed to buy them, and you’re not allowed to sell either. It’s mainly because the governor wants to keep them historic.

For a while, he was convinced that yours and Finnick’s kids wouldn’t be allowed to inherit the house either. But again, you had a very serious conversation with the governor. It was the same day you and Finnick were supposed to have a beach day with his friends.

You told him you’d see him later and that you had an errand to run. When in reality you scheduled an appointment with mister governor. The two of you had a one-on-one conversation about what would happen if you and Finnick died and your kids didn’t get to keep the house.

Basically you threatened to raise your kids the same hard way you grew up, just so that they’d be the same amount of insane as you are when it comes to things. So, instead of having to deal with you, they’d deal with them. And since you wouldn’t have just one kid, he’d be dealing with three or four kids, all varying ages, heights and specialties.

And you wouldn’t be there to stop him.

And again, needless to say, you can probably guess what he chose too.

Plus, the house would be staying in the family either way. If your kids wanted to split off from each other at some point, the only thing you’d want is for one to stay inside the house and carry it on. It’ll be a fun experiment to see how bad the house will be haunted before they give up and burn it down.

There’s only one section to District Four’s victor village, unlike yours. There’s one fountain with running salt water. And right on top, there’s a green statue of poseidon, trident in hand.

You set down the bag again, dragging it behind you since the village is paved with uneven stones. Not something you’d see in District Two, but then again, this isn’t your home. Your home and here are two very different places.

Both places have their charm.

You open the door to the house, leaving your suitcase by the door. Right when you shut it, Finnick comes around the corner, oven mitts on his hands. You place the sunglasses back to the top of your head.

“Fuck, I tried to make the cookies before you came home.” Finnick says, going back inside of the kitchen.

You laugh, setting down the present bag, and then taking the backpack off to set by the suitcase. After that, you pick up the expensive-looking bag as you head into the kitchen.

“The house smells good, I’ll give you that.” you smile.

Before you can do anything, Finnick comes over mitt-free. He cups your cheeks, giving you a very sweet kiss. When he’s done, he goes right back over to the cookies that are literally fresh out of the oven.

Your eyes latch on to the very obvious letters that are on the dining room table. You lean over, tilting your head as you pick up a few, looking at who they’re addressed for.

“Johanna writes frequently.” you say, looking at Finnick as you hold it for him to see, “Three letters?”

“She’s trying to piss you off.” Finnick says, he’s got a cookie in his hand, “Take it before it melts in my fingers.”

“Only if you open this.” you say, passing the bag off to him.

Finnick rolls his eyes as the two of you trade. You take a bite, watching how he pulls out the stuffing first, “What is it this time? An expensive jacket?”

“An action figure of myself. I want it on my bookshelf with all the other bullshit that makes me look good.” you smile, and Finnick laughs.

“Maybe I should take a trip to the Capitol instead, huh? Buy you some gifts instead.”

“No thanks. You probably wouldn’t like it there.” you say.

“Why’s that?” he asks, giving you a small glance.

“Because they still worship us like gods. Plus, Paylor and Beetee have a warrant out for your arrest. Something about a massive ego? I don’t know.”

Finnick rolls his eyes, “Haha.”

His hand dips into the bag, and you pop the last of the cookie in your mouth, reaching over for a napkin. You wipe off the chocolate bits from your hands as you wait patiently for him to open the gift.

Every time it seems like he gets slower with opening them.

He pulls out the book, placing the bag on the table as he turns it over in his hand, “What’s this?”

“I thought I could get something a little more meaningful this time.” you smile, “It’s a memory book. We can take pictures and all that nonsense.”

“That’s a great idea.” Finnick says, giving you a look, “If only we had a camera.”

Your smile turns cheeky, “Beetee’s engineering a good polaroid one for us right now. But he gave us this only thing in the meantime.”

You pull the camera out from behind your back, shaking it a bit for him to see.

“I seriously love you.” Finnick reaches for the camera, and you hand it off to me, “Smile.”

“Already am.” you say, posing a bit for the camera.

He takes the picture, and the two of you wait as the picture comes out. He holds it out for the two of you to see, “Oh, that’s cute.”

“You need one too, hand it over.”

He does it without a problem, and you take the picture. Just like that, two pictures are down, and you’re already fitting them into the slots on the inside cover of the book. When you shut it, you’re able to see you and Finnick. Which is mainly because the two of you are the starters of this dumb thing.

“I’m going to take so many pictures.” Finnick says, “You’re going to regret getting me this.”

“No, I won’t.” you smile.

“You’re going to eat your words.” Finnick leans in, and you slowly slide your arms over his shoulders, tilting your head.

“Oh, am I?”

Finnick pulls you in closer by your waist, “You are, just give it some time.”

“You wish that I’d be bothered by something you’ve done.”

“What happened to the old (Y/n)?”

You give him a loving look, “You.”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia epilogue

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petri808 · 3 years

Text

Bakudeku 31 days of winter ice skating prompt

No one is willing to work with rich but hot-headed pairs skater Katsuki Bakugou, but he needs a partner if he wants a second shot at the Olympics. His coach is desperate and finds former hockey player Izuku Midoriya who was injured at the last Olympics and can no longer play who agrees to give it a shot. The journey pushes Katsuki to change his ways so he doesn’t lose the one partner who gives him a second chance.

It’s generally based on the movie The Cutting Edge. Angst & Fluffy AU. 10K Modern AU

“This is ridiculous!” Katsuki snaps at his coach while pointing to Izuku. “He can’t be the best option! He’s not even a figure skater! And what’s with the hair! It’s a fucking mess! Where are you from, the slums?! Baggy flannel, really?! You look like a hobo! What about that Iida guy I told you to get?! Or Kaminari?! Someone that’s at least in the fucking right sport?!”

Coach Eijiro Kirishima pinches his brow and sighs, “no one else is willing to work with you after your behavior at the last competition. So, it’s this or give up your chance at next year’s competition.”

As the two men argued, Izuku Midoriya just stood there confused in the doorway of a large expense home. All he knew, is the coach had contacted him and offered a generous paycheck to skate again with a partner. It wasn’t ideal and he had no experience with figure skating. But the check cleared, and he needed the money badly. After a devastating injury on the ice sidelined his hockey career, life was a struggle. It took six months just to heal and medical bills needed to be paid. He’d assumed Katsuki Bakugou knew what the coach was up to... but apparently not. “Um, Eijiro, if he really doesn’t want me here, I’ll leave.” Just seeing the explosive attitude Katsuki is exhibiting is making him nervous.

“No, no,” Eijiro moves back to Izuku, while glaring at Katsuki, “he does, he just doesn’t realize it yet.”

“Pfft!” Katsuki sneers back.

“O—kay.” This is going to be interesting...

Maybe interesting is the wrong word, hair-pulling is more like it. Katsuki’s parents are rich, hence the mansion he’s now rooming in and to top it all off the guy has a personal ice-skating rink! An ice-skating rink! No wonder Katsuki was such a brat! But— the man is good, like really good on the ice... Katsuki’s skill as a figure skater is breathtaking to watch as he glided across the smooth white surface. Elegant, strong, and very handsome. But then the man opens his mouth, shattering the fantasy, and Izuku remembers who he’s really dealing with.

“Argh! Get it right Deku! Toe pick! Toe pick! Toe pick! Fucking learn how to use it! Two fucking weeks and your still face planting!”

“I’m sorry, okay! We don’t use toe picks in hockey!”

“This is not gonna work Eijiro!” Katsuki snaps at the coach. “I’m done today! Come get me when he fucking learns how to skate!”

The two men watch Katsuki storm out of the building. Izuku flinches at the sound of the door slamming shut. “Sorry Eijiro. I had no idea figure skating is this difficult.”

“You’re doing fine Izuku. Just keep practicing. You’ll get it soon.”

Izuku was never a quitter and no matter how much his hot-headed partner put him down, it only fueled his drive to get better. Early every morning he would wake up and skate until his legs hurt, then he’d ice them down at night, and start the process again in the morning. In hockey, elegant wasn’t necessary and being a little sloppy on the ice didn’t matter because you were too busy keeping from being slammed up against bodies or walls. But if there was one thing, he truly hadn’t anticipated was the physical prowess required for figure skating. When you watch the sport on tv, no offense, but those skinny bodies in tight leotards doesn’t make one think of powerhouses... until you attempt to pull off the technical moves that they do and learn really quickly how hard the ice can be on a human frame. If Izuku thought his injuries from a hockey match were brutal, figure skating is quickly tallying up the bruises and cuts to take the lead.

It’s been six months into the training and Izuku was growing curious as to what had caused Katsuki to lose his former partner. Eijiro was hesitant to tell him but did lead him towards where to find the answer. So, late one evening, Izuku pulls up YouTube and punches in the description the coach had given him. The results were... surprising to say the least and frankly shocked him because the partner he’d grown to know just didn’t fit what he was seeing. He closes the app and tucks the information away for the time being. It wasn’t worth focusing on the past if he wanted to get through the present. He just needed to buckle down and practice so that when the nationals arrive in 5 months, he’ll be ready.

As the smaller of the two, it’s decided that Katsuki would be the base and Izuku would perform the lifts. Such an act requires a lot of skill in balance and trust which wasn’t exactly the partners forte at the moment.

“Kacchan, we need to practice you lifting me up.” Kacchan is his new nickname for Katsuki. He didn’t know if the man really liked it, but he’s never stopped him from using it.

“You’re not ready,” the man replies curtly.

“That’s why we need to practice!”

“And what, break your neck?! Izuku, you ain’t ready yet!”

“Katsuki, he is ready,” Eijiro counters. “And Izuku is right, you both need to practice the moves in order for it to be spot on. If you’re afraid—“

“I’m not fucking afraid! Fine! You wanna practice, well practice, but don’t you tell me I’m afraid of tossing his ass in the air!”

Three more months, that’s all the time they had left to get two routines down perfect. A short program and a long program. Just trying to remember all the moves is hard enough, but having to execute them in synchronized patterns, smooth transitions, with elegant refinement, someone please remind Izuku why he took the job again?! As a partner, Katsuki is such an asshole to work with. There were so many moments when Izuku questioned his sanity in staying. The money was helpful, but is it really worth the abuse? And yet... there were also the moments when Katsuki might say something nice or a random ‘good job’ to Izuku that made him think, maybe Eijiro was right after all. Maybe Katsuki just needed the right partner. One who’s able to handle his outbursts and see through the hardened facade he shows to the world. It might have been lonely growing up as only child... Izuku should know since he’s an only child. But he grew up surrounded by neighborhood kids. Perhaps Katsuki had been isolated in this mansion for most of his life, because that certainly would stunt his social abilities.

The month before the competition was a whirlwind of activities. Grueling practices, costume fittings... Katsuki was monitoring what Izuku ate and how much sleep he was getting, like a paranoid mother. It got so strange, that Katsuki moved Izuku out of the guest room and into his own in order to watch him more carefully. Granted that Katsuki had a California king sized bed with a lot of space, but it was still awkward for Izuku to share it with him! What if he snored or rolled— sometimes he moved in his sleep. Plus, Katsuki was an early sleeper while he was a night owl. They are such opposites in personality and behavior. The first night fried his nerves so badly Izuku barely slept, only to be cussed out the next morning because he couldn’t focus during practice.

“Kacchan, please, I rather sleep in the guest room!”

“I don’t care what you want, this tells me I need to keep a closer eye on you.”

Izuku groaned and pushed away off the ice to get lunch. He knew there was no arguing with Katsuki unless he was ready for a fight. Wasn’t getting a restful night of sleep the better idea if he was so worried?!

Their afternoon practice did nothing to help his frayed nerves. Katsuki was acting so strange lately. When he talked it’s more like screaming at him, but when they trained... Katsuki’s touch was gentle? Intimate. ‘Duh’that’s what pairs skating is! Izuku chides himself. Like a dance of two lovers on a floor of ice. ‘Sex on ice... Stop it!’ Izuku couldn’t stop the heat flooding to his cheeks. ‘Don’t think like that!’ Ugh, he groaned again, now the mental image is going to torture him and if things couldn’t be worse, Katsuki saw him blushing to himself looking like a weirdo. Thankfully, all it gained was a raised eyebrow. Izuku is gay, but Katsuki isn’t the type of guy he normally went for and he swore he saw a photo in the man’s bedroom of a woman.

Putting aside all the crazy thoughts, Izuku finishes the day without invoking anymore of Katsuki’s wrath. They had dinner quietly before he was forced to go to bed at 9pm. Izuku prepared for another sleepless night as he lay there stiff on his side facing away from the other male. There was almost 2 feet between them, so he tried to pretend he was all alone, just him in a strange bed. Like at a hotel on the very first night and you’re still adjusting to its nuances. It was a comfortable bed, probably expensive with soft, silky sheets, and even the pillows were some fancy memory foam type. Perhaps it was sheer exhaustion, for after a short amount of time, Izuku fell asleep while running the choreography through his mind.

‘Wow it’s really hot today...’ Izuku stirred unconsciously from the dream and pushed the blanket down to his torso. ‘Maybe Yagi will let me go home from work early today, cause it’s exhausting to hang drywall on days like this.’ Izuku tries to turn around but he couldn’t. Panic set in the dream, and the walls closed in around him. ‘What’s going on?!’ He was working and now he’s trapped! Izuku pushes the wall with his back only to feel pressure increase around his body. “What the?!” It instantly snaps his mind awake and suddenly the construction site turned into the dark room of Katsuki’s bedroom.

“Stop... f’ing... moving...” the gravelly voice mumbles right next to his ear!

Izuku’s eyes blow wide as he looks down and sees the arm around his torso, registers that the heat he’d experienced in his dream was Katsuki! ‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!’ Why was Katsuki spooned up to him?! With every breath from the sleeping man blowing along his neck and down his back, every fiber in his body shivered, sending too many electrical pulses misfiring and blood rushing to the wrong places! Katsuki hadn’t just rolled too close, this was an intimate embrace! This couldn’t be real! Izuku tries to pry the man’s arm away gently without waking him only to have his ass grabbed by Katsuki’s other hand.

“Go the fuck to sleep, Deku.”

Izuku squeals. He can’t take this anymore. They weren’t that kind of partners. “K-Kacchan! Wh-What, why?!

“Can’t you just take the hint and go with it. I don’t do the whole flirting nonsense.”

“Oh, my god.” Izuku breathes out, he’s serious! And though a part of him gravitated to the idea of having this handsome partner in a relationship, Izuku worried mixing business with pleasure would blow up at some point. “Kacchan. I’m flattered, more than you might know, but I think we should just be partners on the ice.”

There was silence for several minutes and Izuku started to wonder if Katsuki had fallen back asleep and didn’t hear what he’d said. But it was the calm before the storm. Without warning, Izuku was pushed so hard from behind, he flew off the bed and landed hard on the ground. “GET OUT!!” Katsuki raged. “Get the fuck out of my room! Get the fuck out of my house!”

Izuku couldn’t see the man on the bed through the darkness but could almost feel the anger on top of the sound. One pillow, two pillow landing close to where he lay on the floor, then a lamp crashes on top of his hip. Izuku screams, scrambling up despite the pain and stumbling for the door.

“I-I’m sorry Kacchan—.”

“Get the fuck out!! I don’t wanna see here you in the morning!”

Izuku wiped away blinding tears as he packed up his few belongings to leave the mansion in the dead of night. He’d paused at Katsuki’s bedroom door on his way out; was the man crying behind it? It was hard to image the hot head crying but those were clearly the sounds of sobbing coming through. Izuku hung his head, fuck! He really messed up this time. But what could he do? Katsuki told him to go, and this was his house. He writes a quick note and slips it under the coaches door before taking a cab to the train station. The competition was only 2 weeks away, what about that? Is Katsuki going to throw away his chance to compete? Then again, people do crazy things because of emotions.

When he arrives at the station, Izuku find out that the next train to his town won’t arrive for another 6 hours. Just great. None of the food stalls were open at 2am, so he drops onto one of the benches and uses his duffle bag as a pillow. He sets the alarm on his phone and tries to get some sleep... that doesn’t come easily. Could he have handled the situation better? Okay, it wasn’t fair to blame him for making Katsuki cry. It’s not like the man gave any indication he was interested in Izuku in a romantic sense. Who does that?! Just forces someone to sleep in their bed and surprises them by spooning up in the middle of the night?! “just take the hint...” “Argh!” Izuku curls to his side and covers his face to block out the light. ‘This is not my fault! Stupid Kacchan!’ Tomorrow will be a new day. He’ll go home and just start over. Who needs Katsuki...........

“Wake up Izuku.”

“Ugh... go away,” Izuku groans and slaps away the hand shaking him.

“Izuku, get up. I’m here to take you back to the mansion.”

Wait, what?! Izuku opens his eyes, this can’t be happening. “Eijiro?!” He sits up, shaking his head and waving his hands to wipe away the man’s statement. “Please no! I don’t wanna go back there.”

“Look, I don’t know what exactly happened, and Katsuki isn’t telling me anything, but if you leave now all that work is for nothing and you don’t strike me as a quitter.”

Izuku shakes his head. “I’m not, but I don’t see how Katsuki would be willing to be partners. It’ll be uncomfortable for both of us.”

“He has no choice. This year’s national’s determines who goes to the Olympics.”

“What?!”

Eijiro grins. “Oh, did I forget to mention that?”

“Um, yeah! I-I signed up to— you know I was already concerned about nationals but now you’re telling me this is for a bid to the Olympics?! No! No! N-O, no way. I-I’m barely hanging on as is keeping up with figure skating!”

“Izuku think about it this way. You’ve both had a shot at the Olympics that were dashed. This is your second chance.”

“What do you mean both? Katsuki’s competed in the Olympics?”

“Yeah, the same year as you. I was surprised you didn’t recognize him.”

“I didn’t pay attention to the other sports because I was too busy worrying about my team.”

“Well,” Eijiro asks again. “Don’t you wanna have a second shot at gold?”

“Pfft,” Izuku sighs, “let’s just see if I can survive nationals.”

“Wonderful! Come on,” Eijiro grabs Izuku’s bag, “breakfasts on me.”

When they arrive at the mansion and walk into the house, Katsuki is standing in the living room with his arms crossed just glaring death daggers. Izuku gulps hard as he stands behind Eijiro who’d told him to let him handle Katsuki when they arrived. He was ready for the cursing, but the man just stood there.

“A-Are you sure it’ll be okay?” Izuku quietly questioned the coach. “He’s not gonna kill me in my sleep?”

“Well, at least not until after nationals.” Eijiro stared at Katsuki as he spoke. “Because he knows he has no choice.”

“Tch,” Katsuki stomps away.

‘This is gonna be a lo—ng 3 weeks!’

Excruciating to be exact. If there’s something that became brutally clear through this year to Izuku, is that in pairs skating, the chemistry between the skaters plays a role in how well they are received. They could be as technically perfect as required, but they won’t win over the audience and possibly even the judges if you can’t ‘feel’ their routine.

Their practices became mundane and performances, robotic. Katsuki didn’t touch Izuku in the same ways he had before, and he was noticing it more than ever. He realized the night Katsuki had made a move wasn’t the first time after all. Katsuki had been flirting with Izuku in his own subtle way, but he’d never caught on to it. That made Izuku feel even worse, but he also couldn’t go back on what he’d said because he meant it. Risking a relationship meant risking their careers. If they could just get through nationals and make the top 2 spots, they’ll get into the Olympics next year. So, despite the emotionless aspect of their routine, it was as good as they were going to get it to, and they were ready to take the risk...

But it still hurt.

The backstage area of the skating arena was a mad house with all the competing singles and pairs skaters cordoned off in their own dressing areas. Katsuki’s parents spared no expense on a team to get them ready. Perfect outfits, hair, and makeup to make them pop for the cameras. They looked amazing in their complimentary outfits, a perfect couple by design in every way except reality.

Ever since the night of the fight, Katsuki only spoke to Izuku as necessary in gruff tones. He would even look in his direction and never made eye contact during the practices. Eijiro tried so hard to talk to him. ‘You need to sell the illusion Katsuki. No one’s gonna buy your routine if you won’t even look at the man!’ But the hot head was unflinching in his stubbornness. His face would be towards Izuku, but his eyes looked elsewhere, and smiles were non-existent.

They were next in line, so the runners called them to the waiting area. As the pair stood and watched the performance going on before them, Izuku noticed Katsuki’s expressions growing angrier and angrier. It was his old partner with a new partner doing an amazing routine. Izuku recognized the man from the YouTube video as Shouto Todoroki and his female partner was fairly new to this level of the sport, named Momo Yaoyorozu. Had they been a couple, Izuku started to wonder, is that why Katsuki was so angry? Shouto and Momo’s scores elevated them straight to the number one position.

As they walked off the ice, both skaters smiled and nodded to Izuku, who returned the gesture with a bright smile. He had nothing against them even though they were rivals.

“No hard feelings Katsuki,” Shouto stuck out a hand.

But Katsuki slapped it away, “fuck off ice boy.”

Izuku immediately steps between them. “Sorry, K-Kacchan is just stressed.”

“Don’t talk to them Deku!” Katsuki grabs his hand and pulls him towards the ice.

As Izuku does as he’s told, he sees Shouto shaking his head in pity and he couldn’t blame the guy. Shouto seemed genuine, but it was Katsuki being the asshole. Needless to say, going into a routine angry was not the best idea.

“Kacchan, please,” speaking softly, Izuku begged one last time as they took up their positions. “Because you look too angry.”

“Don’t worry about me and just make sure you don’t screw up!”

‘Argh!’ “Got it.”

If there was one good thing, he could say about Katsuki, is the man is a machine and once the music starts, he’s all business, executing each step with precision like nothing was bothering him. Izuku too, stayed on track, meeting and exceeding his own expectations. He had been so worried that when the pressure really hit, he’d freeze up, make mistakes, and cost them this opportunity. The routine ends right on point to the wild sounds of clapping in the audience. It takes them a few moments to catch their breath before breaking apart. He tries and is rebuffed by Katsuki to hold hands as they bowed. Nevertheless, Izuku catches himself and plays it off, not wanting to appear unhappy for the judges. He thought they’d done an amazing job! At no point can he remember either making a mistake. Everything was right on point, especially the moves that carried the highest point values. They had to get 1st place! But when they stepped into the waiting box as the scores are tallied and posted, it wasn’t to be. The technical points were flawless, but the judges ranked them lower in components score... clearly the judges saw well and clear this pair was not a matching pair at all.

Katsuki storms away to the backstage area livid.

“This is all your fault Izuku!”

“My fault!” Oh, that’s it, Izuku wasn’t gonna hold back anymore. “I warned you, Eijiro warned you! You’re fucking attitude is what killed us! Every—body sees what an asshole you are except you!” He flails his arms in contempt. “A spoiled brat that can’t handle being told no!”

“You fucking take that back!” Katsuki lunges at Izuku who counters and pushes him away.

“I’m done!” Izuku screams and starts to walk away but turns back. “Oh, and for the record. I saw your last skate and Shouto did nothing wrong. You screwed up, you! Your hand slipped in the lift. No wonder you can’t keep a partner!”

Katsuki is so shocked, his mouth slams shut.

Eijiro tries to keep Izuku from leaving, but he’s done. They were in 3rd place and the odds of the last pair screwing up was slim to none because they were also former Olympic level skaters. But just as Izuku steps away they hear it over the PA, “oh, no! She fell!”

Their coach turns excitedly to the two men, “we are in!”

“No, we are not,” Izuku states matter of fact and walks away. This time he really is done. Done with all the fights and uncomfortable, complicated emotions. Going back to the Olympics would have been... the tears well up, but he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, before continuing his stride out of the room. It would have been amazing, but he’s not turning around this time. He can hear Eijiro calling his name. He can hear the sound of something smashing against the wall... it won’t change his mind. If Katsuki can’t change his attitude, then why should he have to put up with it? It’s not fair to him. A part of him once gave the man the benefit of doubt, but perhaps Izuku should have taken a hint from all the partners of his past. Katsuki Bakugou will never change. His arrogance destroys all of his relationships, and that’s not the kind of man Izuku wants anything to do with.

He grabs his belonging from the hotel room, checks out and goes straight to the airport without looking back. The whole ride home, Izuku sat in first class with his cap kept down low to avoid human interaction. It was a four-hour flight back to the mansion and his plans were to grab all of his stuff and leave before Katsuki and Eijiro could get home too. A whole year wasted... Izuku cried softly to himself in the darkened cab of the plane. Now he’ll just go back home to Minnesota and pick up where he’d left off. Going back to working with his brother in construction wasn’t the worst thing. At least he wouldn’t have to put up with being yelled at all the time or being treated like shit. And hey, he could figure skate now! Maybe he’ll find a new partner like Shouto had done. Oh, that would piss Katsuki off so bad! Izuku snorts a small laugh. He never considered himself the vindictive type, but the thought made him laugh at least.

Back home, Katsuki stood in the empty doorway to the room Izuku was using, quiet, his head lowered, not listening to the words Eijiro was saying to him. They’d arrived at the silent mansion and deep down he knew Izuku wouldn’t be there, but that didn’t make the pain hurt any less. They’d hidden the fight from the media and Olympics committee, so as far as the world knew, they would be representing the United States in pairs skating.

“We’ll need to find a replacement Katsuki... we’ll just make up a story that Izuku got an injury or something to smooth it over.”

But Katsuki doesn’t respond to the coach and simply walks away, slamming his bedroom door closed. He falls back against it, slumping down to the floor with his knees up, arms wrapped around them and his head down. This wasn’t the first-time people have walked away from him, fought with him, but Izuku was different from all the rest and when that man walked away without looking back, Katsuki felt something he’d never experienced before. Problem was, he didn’t know what it was! And so, his only recourse was to resort to what he knew which is anger. He’d smashed the makeup case against the wall and broke a mirror with the costume stand.

How dare Izuku stand up to him like that?! As far as he was concerned, he built that man into a figure skater, gave him a new career path better than some stupid construction job! This was an opportunity of a lifetime! He’d even offered Izuku a chance to be his boyfriend, doesn’t he realize what an honor that is?! Katsuki knows exactly how good he is, and any man or woman would kill to have him as their boyfriend! Yet this guy turns him down?! Ridiculous! Just walks away from going to the Olympics?! His fist is clenched so tight, he can feel the pain of his nails digging into the palm. He was so angry! So furious! So... destroyed... Izuku turned his back on him. Fuck him! Fuck— why does he care so damn much! He’ll just get a new partner. He’ll make someone else’s dreams come true...

But he didn’t want anyone else...

No, fuck that! Katsuki jumps to his feet. Izuku was beneath him. How could he have every thought this man could fit into his circle? The guy was a former hockey player from some rural town, while he came from wealth for fucks sakes! Yeah, fuck him! Know what?! Fuck everybody!

Katsuki pulls out his phone and dials his mother. “I’m going on vacation for two weeks... no. Not with him, we— I’m going alone cause I need a break!” Click Next, he calls an airlines and books the first flight to anywhere, he didn’t care where, he just wanted to leave that night. The only option for first class was Hawaii. Oh, good, they had a vacation home there anyways. Katsuki packs a carry-on of just essentials, too irritated to pack a full suitcase. He can buy more clothes when he gets there. Before he leaves, he writes a note for Eijiro with explicit instructions not to contact him until he returned. He slips it under the man’s door then takes his car to the airport since his driver is off for the rest of the night. This whole year left him emotionally unstable, so maybe some beach time and relaxation was the cure.

It was early in the morning by the time Katsuki had arrived at their vacation home on the picturesque Kohala Coast of the Big Island of Hawaii. He’d called ahead for a limo service to pick him up and drive him the 50-odd miles from the airport in Kailua Kona, and the groundskeeper to prep the house for his arrival. His plan was to do nothing but drink, relaxing alone, and to sort out whatever it was that plagued him. He’d slept for most of the ride over, but his mind would keep going back to Izuku. He tosses his bag onto his bed and walks straight to the kitchen for a shot of something, anything he didn’t care.

“ARGH!!!” Katsuki growls in the empty house. “Why the fuck can’t I stop thinking about him!!!” He takes a longer swig of the hard liquor before capping it off and heading the shower. It’s been about 36+ hours since his last one before the competition.

Day in and day out, Katsuki’s depression takes hold, alternating between fits of anger and crying until he passed out from the amount of liquor he’d consumed. The poor housekeeper that came each day, did her best to steer clear, cleaning up after those fits, to keeping the pantry stocked with bottles of liquor to avoid his wrath. For the life of him, Katsuki couldn’t understand why, of anything. Angry and feeling jilted by his partner. Confused as to why Izuku’s leaving hurt so damn much. He’d never experienced this level of despair before, just couldn’t fathom what was really causing it... okay, that was a lie. Katsuki knew damn well why he was so upset, but he just couldn’t bring himself to accept it. And so, he drank his emotions away, buried it under a tidal wave of alcohol and lived in a stupor of dreamless misery.

“Oh, thank goodness,” the housekeeper greeted Eijiro. “He’s passed out in his room.”

“Thank you, Ke’ala.” Eijiro thanks the woman and enters Katsuki’s bedroom. He rips the curtain open.

“Time to get up Katsuki! You need help.” The man on the bed is so drunk, he doesn’t even flinch. Eijiro pulls harder on his leg. “Get up Katsuki!”

The drunk mumbles something, then rolls onto his side. “You leave me no choice Katsuki.” Eijiro picks up the dead weight and carries him into the shower. He puts the man onto the shower floor fully clothed, then turns it on full blast, hitting him dead center in the face. That wakes Katsuki up real, quick!

“What the fuck?!” The man defends against the cold water, flailing his arms pitifully, and scrambling along the tiled floor until his back hits a wall. He wipes his face, “I told you not to contact me till I returned!”

“First off, your parents pay my bill and they’re the ones who sent me. Second, take a goddamn shower cause you stink to hell. Then meet me in the living room.” Eijiro tosses some clean clothes onto the counter and walks away without another word. He hears Katsuki swearing behind him, but he didn’t care.

Thirty minutes later an angry but sober, cleaner Katsuki walks into the living room and plops down onto a couch opposite of Eijiro who pushes a cup of hot coffee towards him. He takes the cup and starts to drink it, though his expression remained accusatory, with furrowed brows, just glaring at the coach. “What do you want Eijiro?”

“Do you even realize you’ve been gone a month?”

No... he hadn’t but, “what’s your point?” Katsuki retorts because he didn’t want to show he cared.

“Do you or don’t you want to go to the Olympics?”

“Of course, I do. But y’all were right all along. No one wants to be my partner, so guess that means I’m done.”

Eijiro sucks in a breath at the revelation. This was the first time he’d ever in their seven-year working relationship heard this man admit a failing. He was a little caught off guard, but in a good way. “Katsuki,” Eijiro sighs, “is this the first time you’ve ever been in love?”

Katsuki puts his cup down and leans forward. “What did you just say to me?!”

“You heard me. Just admit it, you’re in love with Izuku Midoriya.”

“Get out!” Katsuki jumps up and points at the door.

“I’m not leaving. The only way to get past this is to accept the fact you’re in love and because he left you, you’re angry and confused. You pushed him away— admit it to yourself for once in your life and just own up to it!

“I-I’m not in love with Izuku!” His hands fly up and grip to the sides of his head. All of this commotion and the emotions coupled with a hangover is creating a storm of a headache. “I’m not! I’m not! I’m not!” He shakes his head as tears start to flow. “Why is this happening to me?! I-I can’t be in love with him!” Katsuki’s hands drop, but flail in front of him. “And so, what if I am, he turned me down! I have nothing to go back to, no Olympics, no Izuku, just an empty mansion, so just let me drink myself into oblivion!” He drops back onto the couch, cradling his face in his hands as the dam of tears burst free. “Just leave me alone, please.”

Eijiro gets up and kneels in front of Katsuki, placing a hand on the man’s knee. “It’s not too late to fix things. Izuku is angry because of how you treated him, but he doesn’t hate you.”

“You don’t know that,” he grumps back.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure about it. In fact, I’m quite certain he likes you too, but the way you handled approaching him, scared him. Katsuki, relationships... they require honesty, sincerity. You can’t force someone to love you. You have to make them feel loved and appreciated.”

“I don’t... know how. I don’t know what he wants! A-And I’m not good at showing my emotions.”

“Why don’t you try talking to him? Be honest with him and tell him how you feel.”

Katsuki pauses for several minutes as if his coaches words are truly sinking in. Is it really possible? Could he do it? But he’d been such an asshole to Izuku, who in their right mind would give him a second chance. Because he certainly would not... and maybe that was part of his problem. He couldn’t handle the rejection, and so he did what he knew how to do which is lash out, and that’s exactly what he did to Izuku. Katsuki sighs forlornly, “I don’t deserve a second chance.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance Kacchan.”

Katsuki’s heart stops at the sound of Izuku’s soft voice, too afraid to even look up and confirm it wasn’t a figment of his imagination. If Izuku was really here, does that mean he’d heard and saw everything from the moment Eijiro had arrived too?!

Eijiro squeezes Katsuki’s knee. “When I told Izuku what we saw you doing here, he agreed to help bring you home.”

“S-Saw?” Katsuki closes his eyes and whispers.

“This place has security cameras. So, after three weeks had passed by and you still hadn’t come home, your parents pulled up the footage and showed it to me. If I knew things were this bad, I would have come sooner.”

Katsuki’s eyes only tighten when he feels the cushion next to him depress, and the scent of Izuku’s cologne hit him, to block a new wave of tears from escaping. He had no idea how much of the footage they’d seen, but it was highly likely they’d seen the days and weeks passing by with Katsuki drinking almost non-stop. He barely ate or took care of his personal hygiene, because he’d stopped caring, and all he wanted to do was numb his pain.

“Kacchan... I didn’t mean for you to hurt yourself like this. I was— still am upset about things, but like Eijiro said, I don’t hate you and if you’re willing to work with me, like a real partner, then... then I’ll come back. But we need to set some rules, like respect. You can’t keep yelling at me and expect me to stick around.”

Katsuki looks up. “But why would you give me a second chance?”

Izuku blushes and voice softens, “because Eijiro is right. I do have a small crush on you.” But when he sees Katsuki’s face brighten, he quickly adds to his statement. “I-I’m still torn about it, s-so please don’t take that as I wanna jump into a romantic relationship right now. I’m the kind of guy that likes some sentiment, to be wooed or swept off their feet. It’s gotta build up to a point where I’ll be comfortable with the idea, because mixing business with pleasure scares me. Just look at what happened when I turned you down. It ruined everything.”

“I guess I never thought of it that way,” Katsuki breathes out. “This is all new territory to me, and I really don’t know how to handle it.”

“See, this is great!” Eijiro cuts in. “You guys are talking like civilized people, it’s wonderful.”

“Are you done?” Katsuki grumps.

“That depends if you’re ready to start fresh and get back to training together?”

“Kacchan?” Izuku looks over beside him. “I’m willing.”

Katsuki sighs, his heart desperately wants to, but he knows it won’t be easy to control his feelings for Izuku. “I’ll give it a try.”

The trio spends one more week in Hawaii, to give Katsuki time to fully recover from all the alcohol consumption as well as simply enjoy a Hawaii vacation. It was the first time Izuku had ever been to Hawaii and wow, he couldn’t get enough of all the food choices! And the sunsets were just stunning, glistening off of the water! So many colors, it was like heaven greeting earth each clear day.

“I’ll bring you back here on vacation,” Katsuki tells Izuku one day as they’re roaming the Waikoloa shops. “I mean, if you want to.”

Surprised, but happy by the gesture. “That’d be really nice Kacchan.” Since they had to stay longer than expected, Katsuki insisted on buying Izuku some clothes and souvenirs to take back home. He tried to refuse, but the man wasn’t taking no for an answer. It was the least he could do, was the reply for putting up with him. Katsuki also refused to step into any shop he deemed of low quality, so the King’s Shops at Waikoloa is where they went. Tori Richard’s, Tommy Bahama, and Michael Korrs, all places Izuku would never have shopped at.

As they sat in the dining room of Roy’s Waikoloa bar & grill, Izuku stares out over the manmade lake next to the shopping center. He’d adjusted to fancier food because that’s all Katsuki’s cook would make but sitting there with the man in a restaurant was a totally new experience. It was really nice, and for possibly the first time since they’d met a year ago, Izuku relaxed.

He didn’t expect a miracle, or for Katsuki to suddenly change overnight for that would be unfair, but as long as the man tried, Izuku wouldn’t leave like he’d done before. Oh, but was it tough in the beginning! In Hawaii, Katsuki could control his outbursts, but the moment the pressures of training kicked in, so to, did his old personality. Unlike before, Izuku was quicker to say something, telling him to stop before he says something he’ll regret. It seemed to do the trick. The man would stop and move on. After a month, Katsuki started to catch himself, literally mid-sentence stop, and walk away. Izuku wished he’d be more open with him instead of running away, but it was definitely an improvement. By the third month back, he even apologized. Izuku remembered the first time Katsuki said sorry and after a moment of shock, he smiled and said it was okay.

But there was one thing he hoped would come back. He still remembers the heated tingles he’d feel when Katsuki would hold him in positions. It was lost after their fight, and the man almost seemed, afraid, to touch him in the wrong way. Afraid he would make Izuku uncomfortable and risk chasing him away again. He didn’t know how to convey such a desire without confusing Katsuki and opening up a door he wasn’t ready to walk through yet. So, Izuku kept his mouth closed and focused on encouraging the man to keep improving on his social skills.

With six months left until the Olympics, the pair had their short program already choreographed and perfected. That left the long program, and the most important skate of their careers left to solidify. It was a skaters last opportunity to showcase a brilliant program and garner the highest amount of points possible.

“We need a showstopper, something new, something so damn amazing the judges will have no choice but to give us the win!” Katsuki tells Eijiro. “Whatever you need, choreographers to help you, I’ll get it.”

“Well...” the man picks a folder up from his desk, tapping it in his hand before opening it and pulling out a few sheets. He walks over to the ice where the two men were standing, slowly placing each sheet down onto the ice as he spoke. “There is one thing that my old mentor passed down. It’s never been used— because the difficulty level makes it quite impossible.”

Izuku picks up the first sheet, “it’s basically a bounce, spin into a toss, spin?”

“That’s illegal,” Katsuki looks over the man’s shoulder at the paper. “We can’t do an illegal move!”

“Legal, illegal, it’s more of a gray area,” Eijiro clarifies, “just extremely difficult.”

The longer Izuku stares at it, the worse the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. “K-Kacchan would have to spin me like a centrifuge, throw me, then catch me...” he mumbled out as the blood drains from his face. “This defies the laws of gravity and if he slips...” he doesn’t finish the sentence, but the image in his head was of a face scraped off and bloody.

“It takes a lot of skill, a lot of practice, and above all trust between the partners.”

“I don’t know...” Izuku mumbles.

“I think we can do it. Hell yeah! This would win us gold! Come on Izu, don’t you wanna win?!”

“Of course, I do, but—.”

Katsuki grabs Izukus hands, holding them firmly with such excitement behind his eyes and a sultry charm to his voice. “I really think we can do this together.”

“O-Okay,” Izuku melts under Katsuki’s sway. “I believe in you.”

“No. I believe in us.”

Izuku’s eyes widen, his heartbeat speeds up, and all those tingles rush over him. Their eyes meet and hold as seconds silently pass. The cold air of the room disappears, replaced by the warmth centered from their conjoined hands. In that moment, Izuku was willing to believe, that yes, they could pull it off if they trusted each other.

Eijiro clears his throat, “I take that as a go ahead... so!” He claps his hands. “This will be incorporated as the finale of the program.”

“Way to kill the mood man.” Katsuki grumps causing Izuku to blush.

They order custom made training outfits designed to be aerodynamic but with padding in specific areas to absorb shock from falls. It was a brutal regime, especially on Izuku’s body and nothing in his past experience with hockey could compare. Rigging could only be used as they practiced the solitary spin itself, so when they practiced without it, he suffered fall after fall, tossed onto the ice when Katsuki lost his grip on Izuku’s legs. Frankly, it’s a miracle he never broke a bone, but bruises and cuts often slowed the training down. Katsuki himself added upper body workouts to strengthen and increase his ability to not only hold onto Izuku but control the spin. Remember, this is still part of a choreographed piece to music, so timing was everything. It fell on his shoulders not to screw up and miss a step. Three months into this intensive training, Izuku finally demanded a break after a particularly brutal fall that was a breath away from dislocating his right shoulder.

“I brought you dinner,” Katsuki walks into Izuku’s bedroom where he’s resting. It was wrapped by a doctor and he was told not to use that arm for the next five days just to make sure it didn’t get worse.

“Aww, thank you Kacchan.” Izuku smiles, “you didn’t have to.”

“It’s fine.” He tries to hide his blush. “I feel bad cause I messed up again.”

Izuku takes Katsuki’s hand causing the man’s blush to grow, and squeezes, smiling, and conveying more than words ever could.

With one month to go, the pair had everything in their long program down solid, except for the new move which they’ve decided to name in honor of Eijiro’s mentor, the Pamchenko. They’ve landed it twice successfully in the last two months, and the probability of sticking it under pressure at the Olympics was slim. So, with time running out they practiced a separate move instead to fill the void. It was still pretty spectacular, but not as jaw dropping.

Katsuki’s frustration had returned much to Izuku’s disappointment and he did his best not to anger the man. It sucked to be walking on pins and needles all over again, especially because being so close to the end, quitting would be crazy. Izuku just grit his teeth and ignored the man’s tirades, then cried himself to sleep some nights in his bedroom. They’d had six months of doing so well... he really thought Katsuki was changing for the better and growing into the kind of man Izuku would get into a romantic relationship with. But worst of all, is Katsuki hasn’t noticed his effect on his partner.

Izuku flops onto his bed after dinner and lets out a deep exhale, staring at the ceiling. ‘Maybe you really can’t change some people.’ Win or lose, once the Olympics was over it was time to say goodbye to Katsuki Bakugou.

There’s something to be said about the starting of the games and the walk the Olympians do. All dressed in the colors of their countries, head held high waving to the fans as their flags signal, their arrival. It’s a proud moment that such a small number of athletes in the world ever get to experience. Through blood, sweat, and tears, this was it, this is what they’d worked so hard for years to achieve. It was a second chance for he and Katsuki to shoot for their gold medal dreams. Which is really about pride not monetary gain. It’s to prove you’re the best in the world.

The morning of the short program was spent getting prepped like usual. Costumes, check. Hair and makeup, double check. Skates shined and sharpened. Music provided to the program director. There was nothing more for them to do but wait until it was their turn. Izuku focused on staying calm and not hurling up his breakfast, while Katsuki paced like a caged animal listening over the P.A. for the results as one by one each countries teams took the ice. They could go and watch the performances, but that might fry their nerves even more than it already was. Then again watching Katsuki pace wasn’t helping either, so Izuku steps out of the dressing area and into the hall for a break.

“Izuku Midoriya?” A voice spoke from his left.

“Yes?” He turns to look and smiles. “Oh, hello Mr. Todoroki. Heading up?”

“Soon. I just wanted to congratulate you on making it this far.”

“That’s really kind of you. Congratulations as well to you and Ms. Yaoyorozu.”

“Also, for surviving Katsuki. You must be quite the man to stick around.”

‘If only you knew.’ “Um, thanks,” Izuku chuckled nervously, praying that Katsuki couldn’t hear them from inside the room. “It’s been interesting to say the least.”

“So, you plan on staying his partner after this?”

Izuku pauses, debating whether to speak up or pretend nothing was wrong. But who was he kidding, Shouto had worked with Katsuki and was his partner at the last Olympics. This man would probably know if Izuku tried to lie about anything. He lowers his voice, head shaking in emphasis of his words. “No, well, I haven’t fully decided yet.”

“Well, if you don’t give me a call. I’ll help you find a new partner.”

“Oh. Wow. Thanks!”

Shouto tips his head. “Good luck to you Izuku Midoriya.”

He smiles. “Good luck to you too, Mr. Todoroki.”

The smile on Izuku’s face stays firmly planted as he watches the man walk away. Shouto Todoroki was easy on the eyes for sure, and he appreciated how nice he was unlike his own partner. Yaoyorozu was a lucky woman in more ways than one ever since they’d announced their engagement two months back. Ah, well. One day he’ll get lucky in the love department too. Still smiling to himself, Izuku goes back into the dressing room, but instead of a pacing Katsuki he finds a glaring one looking right at him.

“Kacchan, are you okay?”

Unlike in the past, the man says nothing and doesn’t respond. He can see Katsuki’s fists clenched at his sides as if he was barely controlling his anger. Had the man heard his conversation with Shouto?! Well, you know what? After all he’s been through, he didn’t care if he had. “Fine, ignore me. We’re up soon, so be ready.” Izuku walks back outside without missing a beat. He was through with Katsuki’s behaviors.

So, surprise, surprise, the short program was like a repeat of their qualifiers. Perfect technical scores, but the components... high skating skills, high transitions, compositions, and interpretations... mediocre on the performance element. Their whole vibe lacked an emotional tie to the music or each other and the judges reamed them for it. At this level of competition, when scores differed by fractions of points, the smallest misses could be your death sentence. It left them in 4th place, 2 levels below the other American team. To reach gold now required an extraordinary long program.

The limo ride was tense the entire way back to the rented villa, with Eijiro stuck in the middle of two men refusing to even look at each other. “This is why you scored low!” He snaps at them the second they walk into the front door. “You,” he points at Katsuki. “Your anger is killing this team! I had such high hopes for you both, but without the Pamchenko, it’s over!”

“Tch!” Katsuki crosses his arms, “I ain’t got no problem with that.”

Eijiro opens his mouth to counter, but it’s Izuku who snaps first. “You, selfish, spoiled brat! It’s easy for you to say cause you’re not the one taking the greatest risk and I’ve already left the Olympics once with a sidelining injury, so I’m not gonna risk it again!” Tears break free unencumbered as he walks straight up to Katsuki and slaps him as hard as he can across the face. “Just when I’d started to fall in love you reverted back to this,” motioning up and down at the shocked male, “the asshole who only cares about himself! How could someone like you ever love me?! How?!” Izuku screams at the top of his lungs... then silences his tears, “you can’t, not like this.” He runs away to his room, slamming the door, and leaving a flabbergasted Katsuki standing there like a fool.

“He’s right,” Eijiro walks up and stares him down. “All these years I’d hoped you would change— that he might be the key, but now I don’t know.” He walks away to his room too.

“Argh!!” Katsuki screams and leaves the house. Everything was falling down around him again! “Fuck!” But he knew it was all his own damn fault. He’d wanted so badly... and now to find out Izuku... “Fucking dumb fuck!” He screams at himself! How the hell does he fix this?!

The sun had not yet risen by the time Izuku and Eijiro were up and eating breakfast quietly in the kitchen area. Neither said anything, just looking down like robots programmed to follow mundane human behaviors. Katsuki’s bed was empty and it was clear he hadn’t slept in it, but no one knew where he was. The doorman told Eijiro the man had left after the fight and never returned, and he had turned off his phone. The coach was pretty certain Katsuki wouldn’t have left the area without retrieving his belongings, plus the airline ticket was still unused. So, where was he?

“We’ll go to the arena like normal,” Eijiro tells Izuku. “Hopefully Katsuki turns up.”

Izuku himself wasn’t in the best state of mind either and mindlessly nods at the coaches words. He knew the things he’d said to Katsuki were true and needed to be said, but that didn’t mean it made him feel any better. Part of him wanted to just forfeit and leave, but at the same time, he didn’t want to be labeled the reason a U.S. team had to forfeit. If Katsuki really was going to be the stupid one, Izuku wasn’t going to let the man take him down too. Katsuki came from wealth and didn’t need anything. All Izuku had was his reputation and honor, and that was worth protecting.

The longer the day went on with no sign of Katsuki, the more Izuku really wished he could just curl upon in some hole. He felt as if everyone in the field was silently judging him. ‘Where’s his partner? Did they have a fight? Poor guy. Aww how sad...’ there he was all dressed and ready for the long program with no partner. He warmed up on the ice just in case, but it was pretty miserable doing it all alone.

Less than two hours before they were set to skate, Katsuki’s mother walks in, dragging her son behind her. Eijiro gets up to meet his employer, but Izuku barely manages a smile when the woman comes up to him.

“I know we’ve never had a chance to meet Mr. Midoriya, my name is Mitsuki Bakugou, and I extend my warmest thanks for working with my problematic son.”

Not wanting to be rude to the woman, “it’s nice to meet you Mrs. Bakugou. Your son he... he has his good sides.”

The woman laughs, “no need to be humble, I know my son is a brat. And that’s my fault, I shouldn’t have spoiled him so much. But I just want you to know that you really have made a big impact on him.” She chuckled, “It’s been quite shocking for my husband and I to listen to Eijiro’s reports.”

“Oh...” Izuku’s eyes widen. He never knew the coach was spying! “I, um am not sure what to say,” he stammers.

“Okay, okay old hag,” Katsuki suddenly interjects and starts to push his mother out the door. “We gotta get ready, so we’ll see you after the program!”

“Don’t call me a hag you brat!” She yells at her son, then waves at Izuku. “It was nice meeting you!”

“It was uh, nice to meet you too,” Izuku responds and waves back.

Katsuki returns a few minutes later and approaches Izuku. “Could we talk in private somewhere?”

“You need to get ready first,” Izuku states matter of fact. “We skate in less than 2 hours and we need to be ready.”

Katsuki nods without arguing and goes to the stylists chair, telling them to make it quick. And it doesn’t take very long for them to dress and tame his hair. Once that’s done, Eijiro and the stylist quietly take their leave.

“So,” Izuku stands there with his arms crossed, “what did you wanna say to me?”

Katsuki sighs, long and deep, hanging his head and closing his eyes. “I know saying sorry won’t mean much at this point, but for what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry Izuku.” He opens his eyes full of tears. “Last night when I left, I was so angry at myself, at the world, then I saw you with Shouto again and that pissed me off, and I took it out on you again, and that’s not right. So, I kept walking, and walking, just thinking about everything. My life, about this sport, and most of all you. I-I don’t deserve you, at all, I know that.” He pauses for a moment and closes his eyes again. “And when I found myself standing on the edge of a pier ready to jump, I called my mom to come get me.” He chuckled forlornly, “me still crying to my mother at this age, it’s so fucking pathetic. She convinced me to come here today and finish what we’d started for better or worse, make it right by you because I’m the one who dragged you into this world and it’s not okay to make you face it alone. If you hate me, I—,”Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut again as he takes another deep breath. “I-I’ll accept that. If you never forgive me, I’ll accept it because I don’t expect your forgiveness. But I just wanna say thank you for everything and I’ll always love you Izuku.”

The whole time Katsuki spoke, the man never made eye contact with him, but Izuku could feel the waves of regret flowing from him in a way he hadn’t expected. It was different from the time in Hawaii, much more heartfelt. Not that Katsuki hadn’t been trying back then, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to describe it. This apology hit Izuku more deeply somehow and when the man said he’ll always love him— he just knewKatsuki meant it with every fiber of his soul... and he knew no one could ever replace Katsuki in his own heart.

“Oh, Kacchan I don’t hate you.” His voice was soft and full of tenderness. He closes the gap between them and takes the man’s hands, forcing him to look up. His eyes were filled with happy tears, and his ear-to-ear smile was brighter than any other time in his life. “I can’t say I’m not frustrated, but I don’t hate you. Okay? We’ll work on stuff together.”

At that moment, Eijiro pops his head back into the room. “It’s time to hit the ice guys.”

“Okay!” Izuku answers cheerfully before turning back and wiping away Katsuki’s tears and his own. “Come on,” he pulls Katsuki from the dressing chair, turning as he talks, “we’re gonna kick everyone’s ass with the Pamchenko!”

“What?!” Katsuki pulls Izuku to a stop. “No! You’re right it’s too risky! We’re not doing it!”

“Yes!” Izuku continues pulling and walking, dragging Katsuki with him, “we’re doing it!” He smiles genuinely, causing Katsuki’s cheeks to flush red.

“N-No, I don’t want to risk you getting hurt Izuku! It’s too dangerous!”

The closer they get to entrance of the rink, their voices lower but the back, and forth argument continues. Yes! No! Yes! No! Yes!! The announcer calls their names, so they skate onto the middle of the rink and assume their positions.

“If you think I’m doing all this to get a routine out of you, you’re wrong! Izuku, why are you doing this?!”

“Because,” he smirks back, “I’m in the mood to kick a little ass!”

Izuku’s statement and the energy exuding from the man, makes Katsuki’s eyes flash with an adrenaline rush of excitement. He’s never felt such a rush before a program, and he loves how it feels! Any doubt he’d had of his feelings for Izuku, melted away the second the music began.

Their bodies moved in perfect alignment, truly lost in the music and their long-practiced routine flowing as a dance along the ice like two lovers pushing and pulling against each other in reflection of the journey it took to get to that point. The audience ooh and awed, spellbound as the pairs hands, strong yet covetous, molded in loving embrace before heart stopping explosive leaps and spins send their toes curling, and lifting them off their seats. But no one was more enraptured then the two skaters. The world simply fell away, and the competition became a blur around them.

Izuku had no time to process the sheer excitement coursing through his veins or those elusive tingles he’d longed to feel again from Katsuki. But they fueled him, drove him towards their end goal, and made him feel more alive than he’d ever felt! It was magic, pure and simple.

They flowed effortlessly into the first stage of the Pamchenko, with no falter to the strong grip Katsuki had on Izuku. The man was confident which in turn made him relax and relinquish all control to Katsuki’s capable hands. Izuku stayed focused, his arms kept tightly to his sides, counting each spin as the g-force momentum built up to the perfect pitch... and finally the release. The audience goes silent as Izuku’s body spun through the air, one, two, triple axel... caught! In Katsuki’s arms as Izuku hits the ice again. The entire stadium erupts while the pair glides to a smooth stop in the middle of the rink, with Izuku dipped and cradled in Katsuki’s arm.

Neither cared about the judges or competition nor the screaming fans on their feet, cheering in a thunderous roar. It was just them gazing at each other as they caught their breaths with camera lights flashing all around them.

“But why?” Katsuki’s questions Izuku again, because he genuinely couldn’t understand why the man was willing to take such a high risk. “You didn’t have to do it.”

Izuku beams back, “I told you before,” eyes softening. “Because I love you.”

Katsuki’s heart skips and soars as he swoops in, kissing Izuku with all the pent-up passion the man brought out of him. It was magical, freeing, and nothing could compare to this moment, not even winning gold! He helps Izuku to his feet and takes his hand as they bow for the crowd then skate off the ice to await the scores. “I still don’t deserve you Izuku, but I’m gonna spend the rest of my life spoiling you rotten to earn it.”

Izuku giggles, “I just want the real Kacchan, that’s all I need to be happy.”

“Well, too bad,” Katsuki laughs back, “I’m still gonna spoil you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.” Katsuki clasps Izuku’s face in his hands with a grin. “I’m gonna work hard to curb my anger,” placing another kiss on the man’s lips, “but this is one fight you’ll never win, so just accept it.”

A tear trickles down Izuku’s cheek, which Katsuki smooths away with his thumb. Izuku felt like a damn princess in some fairytale, his eyes twinkling in the light. “Oh, Kacchan...”

#bakudeku #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fan fiction #bkdk #Bakugou katsuki #Midoriya izuku #Bakugou x midoriya #bakudeku au #modern setting au #ice skating #pairs skating #Katsuki x izuku #ktdk #katsudeku

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chonzu · 5 years

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i just realized i can’t come on here and shout ‘my roommate ripped me off 3 thousand dollars’ without context so like

Here’s the story

In April I was desperate. Because of a long string of bad luck I’d been unable to find a roommate to fill our 3bed 3bath condo and the upstairs bedroom had been vacant for some time. At that time I found Lacey, who I don’t give a shit about name dropping, because he’s a fucking piece of shit.

He moved in on May 8th, also my grad date. I felt a bit off about it because he was super fucking late after insisting he’d be there at a certain time, and I had a migraine, and I just wanted to sleep. It was okay till we got to June, and he had to start paying bills, and I didn’t get rent. So I gave him the benefit of the doubt and asked for it by a certain date.

By this time I’ve already decided I’m moving out. The third bedroom ends up vacant on Father’s Day because that roommate was moving to New York and just happened to leave on that day. I don’t hear or see Lacey for some time and he comes home one day and just decides to deep clean the whole house. At this point, I’m working as much as I possibly can and doing anything I can do to 1) get sleep and 2) get enough money to cover all the bills.

July 1st I get nothing. At the same time, I’m trying to apply for a new apartment, and I got a new job offer, and my old manager made me work EVERY SINGLE DAY of my 2 week notice. I’m trying to squeeze in a vision appointment and a dentist appointment and then found out I need to get a filling immediately or within the next few months it’d be a root canal. Okay! I tell Lacey he needs to leave by the end of the week. I wanted to press charges, but my aunt, who has a law degree, or masters, or some shit and has been working in law for a really long time, said that it wouldn’t be worth it and the money I wanted to sue him for would barely cover the fees that would come with it. Okay. Fine. I go to the police because I woke up that morning and a set of keys was gone and all the couch cushions (5) were missing. Law says that after living there 30 days whether or not someone is on the lease, they have a right to live at the house (unless they’re doing drugs or prostituting or whatever). Tenant rights. I had to get the landlord involved. Because what I was doing is illegal, and the landlord has to evict him legally, which takes 30 days.

So July 6th I have a convention to go to. It’s great. I’m having a fucking amazing time with a lot of good D&D friends I’ve met and do some board games and a 4 hour one shot. That evening I tried sushi for the first time and real ramen for the first time and when we’re watching a movie that evening Lacey tries calling me through FB like 7 times. He insists he’s going to have all the money and he just needs One More Day after already begging for one. I come home that evening at around 12:30 AM and go to bed. He comes in at 1 AM shittalking me and telling the new guy I’m a disgusting pig and he did me a favor by cleaning everything because it was covered in grime and shit (he’s a compulsive liar, I’m not surprised). So I messaged him that I can hear him and to tell the new guy I’m leaving by the end of the month. I hear his phone go off and he huffs and leaves me on read. The next day the sink is full of every single piece of silverware in the house and the counter is full of dirty dishes.

Cut to yesterday. I bought a storage unit because I’m going on vacation and if I get this apartment the move in day is August 10th. I get back late in the evening and come home to the water shut off. New guy is like, yo, what’s going on? And I explain that I cannot turn the water back on, and he has to if he is renewing the lease, because Lacey never paid me a dime and I couldn’t afford it. He runs out and gets me half of the bill and I got it back on today. But now I’m down to less than 100$ to my name (except for cash I’ve stowed away for my trip/graduation money) and I need boxes, tape, and cat food, among some other things. By this point, everything he owes me comes to about 2000 dollars. New guy, just before getting the money, tells me that he gave Lacey the first and last month’s rent and signed a paper saying that he agreed to pay the money to Lacey. And then he stops, and whispers ‘why did he ask me for the money when you’re the one who pays the rent?’ and then drops the bomb that Lacey hurriedly left yesterday morning with a haphazardly stuffed bag and neither of us are sure if he’s coming back and he still has the keys.

New coworker found court records that he’s been arrested like 7 times for drugs and doing shit on probation and now at this point he’s basically stolen 3000 dollars from me and the new guy.

I don’t know if my last paycheck this Friday will be deposited or mailed by paper. New job gets paid this week, but this is my first week, so I’m going to get first week, second week, and third week all together (all of them mailed to me, getting here ‘whenever they get here’).

Now you might be asking, how did you let Lacey do this to you? I gave him the benefit of the doubt because I was in a very similar situation he was (homeless, working crazy jobs, just looking for a place to start new). But, since he gave me that first month’s rent, he covered himself to be able to stay for at least 60 days, 90 days max. Thankfully he ended up leaving, I think, but neither me nor the new roommate know if that’s actually going to happen.

I told the office today that I’m leaving and not renewing the lease. I haven’t gotten a response, but I checked my spam and realized they’d sent me a very similar question about it 20 minutes prior to me sending my email, and still no response, and the office is now closed.

And I’m screaming because all of my tax return AND all of my fucking graduation money are being ripped out of my hands just to live, and I cannot get an eviction on my record if I want this apartment, and my credit has fucking tanked because my power and water keep getting shut off, and the new guy won’t renew the lease because Lacey was Probably on drugs and it made him super uncomfortable. I’m trying to get an apartment with a close friend who’s going to be moving in September and I don’t know how I’m going to survive this month, honestly, because the burnout of working retail and having no time off plus trying to adjust to new policies in a corporate office and dealing with this AND trying to at least do something fun every day and living off whatever scraps I can find while gathering change for some Monster energy drinks is....

Not a good time.

#not mha

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snowbellewells · 6 years

Text

Captain Swan is my Favorite RomCom: “While You Were Sleeping” (Part Five)

So here’s the next installment, I think we’re down to just about two more, unless something changes. Hope you enjoy!!

While the little misunderstanding has complicated Emma’s life and made her feel all kinds of guilty, she can’t quite want things back the way they were either...

And I apologize now, I know this has no cut line, but I just can’t get it to work for me on mobile. I’ll try to do a morning reboot form my desktop with the cut!

Part Five

By: @snowbellewells (TutorGirlml on ff.net)

The morning after taking Emma to dinner at his folks’ and their near-silent drive back into the city, dawned chilly but bright; though Killian Jones woke to it groggy and angry with himself in the rented hotel room he’d booked in order to be in the city - nearer to the hospital for his brother and the various appointments he needed to attend while in Boston. He knew he had pushed Liam’s fiancé out of her comfort zone - despite his initial good intentions - and he had been beating himself up for the overstep ever since realization hit, mere moments too late.

Stumbling over the nondescript carpet, hand rubbing blearily over his face and his unshaven chin as he made his way to get his morning’s first cup of coffee, Killian kicked himself once more, berating his impatient prying. ‘So what if she has secrets?’ he scolded himself again. ‘Everyone does. You certainly have a few yourself. Just because she wouldn’t tell you her whole life story after knowing you less than 24 hours does not mean she’s hiding things from Liam - or that she has anything serious to hide at all.’

Cursing himself for a fool, and then literally cursing in pain as he clumsily managed both to burn his finger with the tiny complimentary coffee maker and spill the precious brew in the suite bathroom, Killian knew what the issue really came down to. He was disappointed, saddened, struck once again by his own bad luck - the sheer indisputable fact that he didn’t deserve good things, the things he wished for most. Of course Liam would meet the ray of sunshine that was Emma Swan first; he was everything that Killian wasn’t. Ever since they had been in prep school with his citizenship awards and class offices, Liam had been successful, admirable, well-liked...perfect, for all intents and purposes. Though he would never lord it over his five years younger brother, reaching adulthood had not done much at all to bring Killian out of Liam’s impressive shadow. He was successful in his work, even generating surplus for charitable giving, had made a good name for himself in the business world, drawing new customers even as he retained his ethics and honor, had a large, well-situated apartment and nice car, dressed well, and still retained his decent heart and character. What woman wouldn’t choose Liam Jones as a fine man to marry?

Killian sighed, running a frustrated hand through his sleep-disheveled hair and this time managing to pour his coffee into a nondescript white hotel mug - oddly missing his own chipped mug with the jaunty silver anchor on it that Nick had gifted him last Christmas. Not that he was a bad guy or a poor catch, but he certainly looked less promising on paper. He didn’t bring in the paycheck Liam did, nor did he carry the type of prestige his brother had earned. He was more of a jack-of-all trades who had turned his passionate interest in boats and sailing into a modest living at best. Though he well knew he would make a devoted, loving mate for the right woman, she would need to share his love of the sea and adventure, his family, and his simple, uncluttered lifestyle. He didn’t require the material trappings Liam could offer a woman, and if his brother had won Emma Swan’s heart, then Killian knew that he couldn’t truly compete.

And yet...something about her spoke to him, whispered that they could understand each other in a way most would not. He had been to her apartment - and though it had been clean and comfortable, it was nothing fancy. He might have even deemed it sparse, if it weren’t for the unique, cozy touches he had noted scattered throughout her living space: a hand-knit woolen blanket with her name woven in purple draped over the couch, not only a purring pet cat, but adorable personalized dishes for the clearly spoiled creature in pride of place on the very table across from the spot Emma clearly occupied at meals herself. Though he couldn’t pretend to known her whole life story, he sensed a woman with simpler tastes similar to his own - more interested in people and connection, items of sentimental value more than material worth; a kindred spirit more interested in experience than routine complacency.

Hanging his head, Killian sipped his caffeine Black, berating himself for wanting his brother’s fiancé – however briefly – before he shoved the thoughts far into the recesses of his mind, for thinking recklessly that he could make her happier, that he could read Emma Swan like an open book. Wincing at the sharp, strong flavor of the unsweetened beverage, still rather warm and burning his tongue a bit, Killian couldn’t help feeling as though he had earned the slight pain to the roof and sides of his mouth for his disloyal and traitorous thoughts, for his ever-cursed and unlucky timing and desires making him feel as though he had finally met the woman who could complete him and make him smile as he had ever seen his mother do for his father his whole life long.

Finishing the cereal and sausage link he had gotten from room service for breakfast, Killian tried to shake lingering romantic thoughts about Emma Swan from his tired brain. He had things to do, calls to make back to work to see that things were covered with his business and shop while he was here awaiting any changes or news on Liam’s medical progress, and errands to run before he was to have lunch with his father. It would do him no good to dwell on the fact that Liam had been incredibly devoted to his college sweetheart - a brilliant lass named Belle French, a PhD candidate currently abroad studying and lecturing upon ancient texts in Brittany - until a painful falling out they’d had a scant five months before over their future and settling down. Though Killian hadn’t heard as much from his older brother, he had always felt that Liam and Belle would find their way back to each other. Perhaps that was why this seemingly sudden engagement to Emma Swan, whom none of the family had even met until two days ago, didn’t quite add up. Of course, Killian also knew that could very well be his own foolish and impulsive heart influencing his thinking.

At any rate, as he gathered his keys and coat and made his way out of his hotel room, locking it behind him, he needed to focus on the rare chance to spend some quality time with his dad, to talk seriously without interruption. Though David Jones had not outwardly fought or dismissed Killian’s decision a few years back, to start up his own business rather than continuing serious apprenticeship to take on the family farm someday, Killian knew there had to have been a part of his father who found it difficult for a second of his three sons to turn away from the livelihood he had worked hard to build, to provide for them all and hopefully hand down into their care. Just as with Liam - though surely his elder brother’s success must have helped to soothe the blow - Killian knew his choice must have hurt his father, which he had never wanted. It was why he had hesitated as long as he had before striking out on his own.

It couldn’t be fought however. Eventually, he’d had to be honest with himself, and with his dad. There was simply something about boats and the sea which called to him. Though it had not been easy the day he’d brought those concerns to his father; it had been a dry mouthed, hands sweating sort of moment in truth. Yet, Killian suspected, that the way the soil, working the earth and being outdoors in the open air amidst his sheep fed his father’s spirit, helped David Jones to understand his middle son’s yearning better than Killian could have hoped. Beyond that, very thankfully, Nick seemed to adore the family farm - even now as he was almost through trade school for animal husbandry and agribusiness management. Nothing seemed to thrill the youngest Jones brother more than being home on the farm during breaks and vacations, and he loved his father’s flock more than anyone but David himself ever had or would.

Reaching the ground floor, Killian passed through the hotel’s open lobby and made his way to the parking garage across the street where he had left his truck the previous night. It was time - for the moment at least - to leave his scattered thoughts and the fleeting warmth in his chest caused by his memories of the way light had glanced off the gold in Emma’s hair and the bright, unguarded sound of her laugh. He needed to see to his business and worry about his family, not nurse pipe dreams with no hope of coming true…

~~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~~~

By that evening at the end of her shift, Emma felt no less conflicted over the secrets she was keeping, the things she had refrained from telling Liam’s family - and Killian in particular - and the convenient misunderstanding she had allowed to let stand; giving her the chance to experience what it felt like to have a whole, vibrant family for the first time, but also taking advantage of the Jones’ kindness shamefully. Equal warring parts of her had run back and forth in her brain all day as she took tokens and watched the trains fly back in and out of their station almost constantly. And despite the guilt she was suffering and the frustration with herself she felt for not correcting Nurse Ariel’s mistake immediately, before she’d known what she would be giving up, Emma found that as she clocked out for the night, there was still just one place her feet would carry her.

Stopping by her favorite street vendor for a quick bite to eat for supper, Emma was at the hospital and making her way up to Liam’s floor before she had even made up her mind to follow her gut. She waved to Ariel, who was on the phone at the nurses’ station and gave her a rather sheepish smile but still waved back enthusiastically, and then let herself into Liam’s room.

Upon entering, Emma felt her shoulders relax and a sense of relief coming over her, almost affirming that this was where she had needed to be. Perhaps it was the dim lighting in the room, the calm quiet where so much of her day had been full of bustling crowds and hectic noise, or maybe it was even that this man who had intrigued her for so long from afar - fiance or not - needed her in some way.

It was a double room, but as he had been two days ago, Liam was the only occupant presently. Even if unaware, he was very much alone, and Emma couldn’t stand that. She’d been all by herself for too much of her life; she wouldn’t leave another person in that painful solitude if she could make it otherwise. Settling in for the evening, she pulled the nearby chair right up beside his bed, sat down, and reached out to take his hand in hers.

Twining their fingers together, Emma gently squeezed Liam’s digits, whispering as she pulled his arm carefully over to press it against her chest while she began to speak. Bowing her head slightly, she whispered near him into the quiet room. “Liam? It’s your fiancé… Emma…” Though she had begun her statement with an almost sheepish laugh, as if he might wake up and appreciate the humor of the wacky situation with her, her words were cut off by the lump that rose in her throat which she had to swallow hard to speak around.

“Oh, who am I kidding?” she sighed, her eyes stinging with unwanted emotion as she looked down at the handsome man, peaceful and still as if merely sleeping. Where before she had always found herself wanting to wind her fingers through those stubbornly curling, close-cropped tufts of sandy hair, Emma suddenly pictured dark tendrils falling over his brother’s strong brow instead. This man - while he had intrigued her and drawn her in with his kind smiles and friendly greetings each week - she didn’t really know him; never had known him, truth be told. She merely wanted to brush an almost sisterly touch of fingertips across his cheek, hold his hand, and see him wake up - for the sake of his family who loved him dearly, for his own sake, as he didn’t deserve to be struck down so senselessly, and for hers, so she could explain what had happened and hope that - just maybe - he wouldn’t hate her and the rest of the Jones family wouldn’t either.

Finally giving into the urge, Emma laid her cool palm over his slightly warm forehead, wishing to bring him some comfort and to let him know he wasn’t alone before settling into her seat more comfortably, propping her chin on the fist of her free hand while the other still held his large one, rubbing gentle circles over the space between thumb and forefinger. “We both know I’m a complete stranger to you. I don’t know why I’m still pretending when you’re the only one here. You may think I’m the worst sort of person when you wake up, but it truly was a big misunderstanding. I didn’t know how to stop it at first, and then things just got out of hand. Your family…” she paused again, pressing her mouth into a thin line as she tried to bring the welling regret and longing under wraps, “they’re pretty wonderful really. You know that, right? I mean, they just took me in, and they’re so warm and funny. Even though my adoptive mom was great, she’s been gone a long time. It’s just been, well me and my cat,” a strangled little laugh escaped and she wiped a hand across her eyes, sniffling, “for years now. Like I was in the beginning…” She trailed off, shaking her head as the man she was speaking to remained motionless and unresponsive. “Sheesh, just listen to me,” she finally finished off, blowing out a breath and straightening slightly. “This must sound crazy!”

Turning to reach for her jacket and preparing to go, Emma touched Liam’s arm one last time, a parting squeeze of farewell. “Ever been so alone you’d spend the night confusing a man in a coma?” she asked self-deprecatingly. Then, she stood and leaned back down to press a light peck of a kiss to his hairline whispering, “Wake up soon, Liam.”

Then she was gone, slipping out of the room and soon the hospital without ever noticing Killian, who had arrived not long after her to check in on his brother. He had frozen in the doorway behind her, stunned into silence by the admission he’d overheard before he could announce his presence, and had just barely remembered to retreat down the hall far enough to escape detection when Emma had gathered her things to leave. Emerging after a moment, he stood dumbfounded in his brother’s doorway, conflicting emotions all swarming behind his eyes. “Bloody hell,” he murmured, running a hand over his face, “Now what are we supposed to do?”

Tagging: @csromcom18 @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kday426 @linda8084 @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @laschatzi @jennjenn615 @therooksshiningknight @resident-of-storybrooke @bcmbbcs4evr @coliferoncer @vvbooklady1256

#csromcom2018 #while you were sleeping au ff #movie au #cs modern au #part five

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rkchungha · 6 years

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❝ sweater weather — ♡

@rkariel

truth be told, she doesn’t know much about the new trainees. the arrival had taken her by surprise and yet part of her knew she shouldn’t have been. after all, she’d been to lotte herself during the event and seeing all of the costumes and people who looked as if they were more beautiful outside of them, she should’ve known kt scouts wouldn’t miss out on the opportunity. finding out they took in another mga contestant does surprise her though and that the second is unknown to her makes her more curious.

regardless, ariel is very happy to know they’re recruiting more girls. it makes sense, of course, but she loves getting more female trainees. one thing’s certain, they’re much easier to shop for and though she thinks her last gift for new trainees is among the most well-rounded and useful, she doesn’t want to repeat anything in its entirety.

her favorite part this time around is not having to make it gender-neutral. this time, she can give it a little more thought, try to have it more custom to each girl but each bag is filled with the same items following a similar color scheme to the bag. after scrolling through their instagrams ( after asking the right people in kt, it’s nice to still keep in touch with the other gossips of the company ), she chooses simple minimalism for chungha, thinking black and white is her main aesthetic. classic. jiwon’s bag is soft shades of pastel pink and blue, similar to what she’d given to yeri years ago and it’s then that she realizes jiwon does remind her of the eclipse maknae from aesthetics alone.

the most personal touch is the pink heart patch on the shoulder strap of each bag, so they know kt trainees have heart and as long as they have that, they’re not alone here. the rest of the items aren’t as easy to attach hearts to and she has to rely on stickers. it won’t last, she’s seen the result on the stainless steel bottle hyunjin had the first time they spoke one on one but the sentiment is there. a towel, even cleansing wipes for the days when training is too much, dry shampoo even, but her favorite is the sweater tucked into each bag. knit and soft as can be, there’s heart patches on the elbows that thankfully she did not iron on herself or they’d turn out horribly.

all that’s left is approaching each girl and she’s amused again by the fact that she looks odd carrying more than one gym bag but it’s well worth it. “ hi there! yes, you — my name is kim minji but you can call me ariel. welcome to kt! ” handing the respective bag over, she grins widely. “ it’s really nice to meet you and i hope you fall in love with kt as much as i have. ”

chungha was more or less growing accustomed to training life once more. it had been a couple of years. she was a little shaky with the routine (and re-establishing the diet) but her body was growing used to it on pure memory alone. what she did forget was how prepared she had to be throughout the day. she needed water bottles, a towel, an extra set of clothes, snacks -- she was now realising why meiqi always had so much damn dirty laundry.

she was growing tired of her purse. it was large but not large enough to carry all of this stuff. eventually she was going to have to invest in a gym bag. probably with her final restaurant paycheck she’ll do just that.

as chungha is fumbling with her too-large purse to bring out her plastic water bottle she’s approached by a female she’s yet to meet but is familiar. chungha knows who she is. who wouldn’t know of kt’s new project group? knowing that this is her senior now, chungha bows her head in respect.

“nice to meet you, sunbaenim. my name is kim chungha.” though ariel was an interesting name. not a common name a native korean would have picked. she blinks. “oh, uh, in that case you can call me annie sometimes if you want!”

it’s the gym bag that catches her off guard. it’s a simple black and white so she can sling it with her whenever (not that she’s a fashion snob or anything but a coloured gym bag was a risk) and it had a heart on its shoulder pad. it made her smile. “did you get this for me? that’s really kind of you!” the bag had a little weight to it when chungha took it from ariel’s grasp. she blinked in surprise, pausing for a moment before she sets the bag down gently to shift through it.

to her surprise there was more to the gift. “oh, wow! thank you,” she said in genuine astonishment as she took out the items inside. the sweater was adorable. it’d be nice to wear at home to keep warm and maybe accessorise on days she wanted to look like an actual person outside of training. it must have been costly to get. it made chungha feel a little bad. everyone was being so kind -- this is something she definitely wouldn’t have experienced at any other company. “this is honestly so amazing. i was just thinking to myself how i needed to get a gym bag and stop using this dumb purse. wow....”

#( sweater weather ; )#rkariel #strongheart.chronicles #submission

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bruhwhyth0 · 4 years

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WHY THO?

Jesus Christ I was really hoping I’d never have to do this again. I honestly don’t know what is worse, having to watch another shitty movie or rereading my old blog posts and realizing that they were lower in quality than the movies I was reviewing. Fortunately it doesn’t really matter because I know for a fact that my -2 followers don’t seem to mind. But here I am. Once again I must swallow my pride and sumit myself to literal torture all in the name of a grade. To my suprise choosing a crappy movie was almost as difficult as watching one. So many options. So much low hanging fruit. However movies of this nature can always be a mixed bag. I remember when I first started this blog a few years ago some reviews never left my drafts because I didn't have much to write about. Sometimes a movie is so mediocre, so bad, that it can’t even excel at being an awful pile of crap. I chose to write about bad movies because I figured it would be entertaining. You��d think some films, in their own demented way, could at least entertain. But no. Can’t even get that right. I’d find myself at 2’o’clock in the morning looking at my notes only to realize that I basically wrote nothing. All I had was a lingering sense of regret and confusion; like I’d just woken up from a drunken one night stand. All I could do is ask myself, “What the hell did I just watch?” So as I revisit this deserted island I call my blog for what most likely will be the last time, I want to make sure that it is worth it. If I’m going to verbally assault a movie, I’m going to make sure it is an easy target. That was my thought process at least. I soon realized that just because a movie is easy to write about, that doesn’t mean it is easy to watch.

So what movie did I force upon my soul do you ask? Why CATS of course. Because who doesn’t like Cats? Everyone loves cats. What’s not to love about an ungrateful and rude animal that walks around your house like it owns the place. An animal that bites, scratches, and claws at anything it deems unworthy. “Let's make a movie, based off the perverted 80s Broadway production that centered around these literal spawns of Satan,” said every Hollywood executive with their head up their ass. As a matter of fact they thought it was such a good idea that they dropped 95 million U.S. dollars on it.

Now before I continue, as I typed “cats budget” in my google search bar, take a guess what came up after “cats bu..”. CATS BUTTHOLE SMELL. Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell is wrong with people? I tried recreating it in the search bar to screenshot but I couldn’t get it to come up, but trust me. I know what I saw. What is it with cat people man? Seriously. Really threw me off my train of thought.

But yeah, 95 big ones. A lot of good things could have been done with that money, but nope. We needed a live action adaptation of Cats. Did anyone who thought this was a good idea even see the play? That shit was weird. I didn’t watch it, cause, well why the hell would I?

But from the bare minimum research that I did do, the general consensus was that it was a shitty play that made lots of money because people are dumb and will watch anything. I guess producers were hoping lightning would strike twice. If you saw the play you would know that there is literally no plot. It has nothing. It is literally a bunch of weirdos dressed like anthropomorphic cats dry humping each other and singing for 2 hours. I swear its target audience had to consist of lonely 12 years old, sad housewives, and perverts. I tried watching the musical just to get a general reference of the living hell I was going to put myself in only to be utterly mortified. My eyes and ears didn’t last 5 minutes. How it made all the money it did baffles me. But I’m not here to talk about this crime against humanity, I’m here to rip into its bastard child. And boy, oh boy, is there a lot to talk about.

$14.99 in and I’m already regretting my life choices. Everything in my life has led me to this moment and I really wish I could change that. Thanks to what a box office bomb this movie was, I can’t rent it anywhere. I can only buy it. Figures. You're already off to a bad start movie. 2 minutes into the opening scene and I already hate it. People walking around on all fours in fursuits, licking their genitals, singing dancing, some crappy asymmetric musical. WHY! Oh god why did people make this? What kind of furry bullshit is this? I am going to be completely transparent. I’m writing this while I’m watching the movie. I’m not even 5 minutes in and I want to blow my brains out. This is not hyperbole, I wish it was. I can’t dude. I can’t watch this fucking movie. All the characters speak in these weird haikus with British accents. I can’t. I just can’t. I don’t know what anyone is saying half the freaking time. So many made up words and phrases. It's like the script was written by some Dr. Suess rejected. I genuinely have no idea what is going on. I was really hoping that for once one of my reviews wouldn’t sound like the rantings of a madman. But I can’t help it. This crap is rotting my brain. Seriously what is going on. Maybe I’m a simpleton who doesn’t get musicals, but I shit you not there is no plot. I have no idea what the hell is going on. How do you have a movie with no plot?

It’s just singing about being cats... and their FEET. JESUS CHRIST THEY HAVE FEET. No CGI paws. BARE. HUMAN. FEET. God why. How as an actor, do you go on set, act like a literal animal and tell yourself, “yeah this is gonna pan out great.” How did they sit down and go, “I’m going to sit here, lick a fake bowl of milk, sing and dance nonsense, then proceed to lick my non-existent cat balls.” I literally watched an actor snarl directly into the camera. When I went to find out who it was, I was unsurprised to see that all the pictures of the actors were gone. Just names. With a little digging I found out it was Ian Mckellen, you know, from Lord of the Rings. Magneto from Xmen. That Ian Mckellen. Yup, and he snarled to the camera like a cat. Anything for a paycheck right? Who am I to judge, I watched 2019’s Cats for an English class. Who is really losing here, cause frankly I don’t know anymore. If I have anything positive to say about this movie is that it has less dry humping than its source material. Key word less. I better get an A for this.

An hour into the movie and I still don’t know what the fuck is going on. Some dude in overalls is tap dancing. He's a “railway cat” cause he's a conductor or something. I physically cannot do this. I'm dying on the inside. A light inside me is slowly fading. Countless abhorrent musical numbers. Too many for a man to take. To put things in perspective, I did not like Hamilton. Did I respect it for what it was? Of course. Not my cup of tea though. Hamilton was a great musical, arguably one of the best, and I did not enjoy it whatsoever. Now here I am watching Cats. Just a little perspective.

As I came to the end of the movie I saw that I missed all kinds of things. There was a love plot, some kind of contest, and villain. But that didn’t concern me. All I could focus on was how I wasted an hour and a half of my life.

An hour and a half wasted on this.

Do you think God left us because he feared what he created? I sure as hell do. The philosophers were right. Everyday Pantheism is making more and more sense. And if not that nihilism. God is dead. God is most certainly dead. Don’t believe me? The GIF above is all the proof you need.

I was hoping that for once one of these blogs would have some sense of conformity. Some sort of cohesion. Maybe an ounce of legitimacy. But I couldn’t. There is something about these movies that drain the life from you. Every second spent looking at my computer screen I felt brain cells dying. I might as well have drunk a whole 750 milliliter bottle of Everclear. That or bang my head against a wall for 15 minutes. Either would have been just as effective; and probably more efficient.

I thought that I could improve upon the quality of my blog. When I reread my old post I realized that they had no depth. I thought maybe it was me. Right? I was 15, What did I know about good writing? No. It never had anything to do with me. Movies like Cats are such horrendous abominations of human creation, that there is literally no way to talk about them with any form of professional effort. They are shallow. There is nothing to analyze. How can you analyze garbage? Art requires respect if it wants to be reviewed and judged accordingly. Cats and films like it don’t have my respect and never will. I type this with immense pleasure. Never again. Never will I ever put myself through this bull again. Thankfully, for the last time. I can ask Why Tho?

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mybirdsongphotography · 4 years

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Covid has tried to destroy everything.

I haven’t opened this blog since February, and it’s not because I don’t have beautiful couples to write about. I do. But when the world went haywire in March, and all weddings were completely uprooted from their original visions, I was left without my craft.

Hopefully you guys know by now exactly how much this work fuels me. It’s more than a paycheck, (which yes, if you’re wondering I have missed those since February too!) and so much more than a “good photo” (those can be taken by iPhones any day).

I miss getting to hold my beast of a camera up in the air as I’m dancing my way through guests, trying to politely get to the other side of the dance floor while simultaneously doing (and singing, I know you’ve heard me) the cupid shuffle.

I miss seeing the bride take a deep breath before someone zips up her dress because let’s face it, no matter what size and shape your body is in, there is some slight fear that on your big day, and only on your big day since you’ve tried it on ten times already, it’s just not going to fit.

I even miss the Aunts, sisters, and friend of Uncle Bob’s coming to tell me what I should be taking a picture of next… or coming to nudge me to take a photo of Great Aunt So and So dancing with the little kids (of which I assure them I have already got the shot).

Okay, that last one I might not miss as much... but you get the idea.

This entire situation brought creative life back in me.

Now let me introduce Haley and Fernando.

This was a taste of how their engagement session looked:

Yep, they ended up in the water at the end of their session! Side note, I am always going to say yes to bringing your dog into the photos, that should be a given by now.

Fast forward to 2020, the year that won’t quit.

These two were supposed to have their wedding this past Spring, as were a lot of hopeful couples, I know. We found out all flights were canceled, and thus began everyone figuring out what new dates could work, and how far away of a date would hopefully be safe enough for travel and gathering up all of their loved ones.

Some of you know that since June of 2019 my family has been on the road. Dave has been working as a Travel Nurse in the Operating Room, and I have (until Covid) continued my work as a traveling/destination wedding photographer.

We were living in our RV in Santa Cruz, California, during the start and height of quarantine, and then only recently (June 2020) we moved to Colorado for another travel assignment for Dave.

Imagine my excitement when Haley was mentioning her thoughts on how to go about rescheduling the wedding, and one of those thoughts included eloping to Colorado.

Giddy doesn’t even begin to describe it.

Knowing how much fun I had during their engagement, I let them know I was down for anything. Thankfully there was an entire day before they got here that Dave could watch Connor and I could go explore mountains in search of a perfect location for this photo session.

After hiking around some amazing Colorado spots (including Sapphire Point Overlook and Blue Lakes, both of which I highly recommend) I was blown away by Saint Mary’s Glacier.

I knew it was worth it, but I had to check with them first to see if hiking over a mile up on rocks (not one bit of it is a smooth path) right before photos was something they would want to do!

Not only were they completely down for whatever adventure I had planned, they met up even though we knew it was going to most likely storm.

It gets better.

Her response to the weather was that we could just have our very own scenes like the Notebook if it rained!

Sign me up over and over for couples who want an experience out of this, not just a couple of posed photos.

(Don’t get me wrong, I’ll help everyone pose during any sessions. There’s nothing natural about someone staring at you through a lens for an hour.)

Right off the bat, we get about a half mile up the mountain, and I realize I need one more attachment for a light stand. Fernando offers right away to go grab it out of my trunk. I have a hard time saying yes to help, but this past year I have been training myself to simply say yes when it’s offered. He literally ran down and back before I could’ve gotten halfway down the rocks. Good thing I said yes.

As soon as we got to the top and they got changed into their clothes, the sky opened up.

(okay, okay… you can see they weren’t all the way changed yet!)

We were already almost alone on the mountain, and as soon as the rain started we could see the few small groups start leaving. More room for us.

Harnessing all of our survival instincts, we ducked down under some branches and found a covering thick enough to cover us from the rain.

Now, once you hear how loud the thunder can sound while you’re on top of a mountain…

…you start rethinking a few things.

Thankfully it didn’t seem like lightning was around us at all, so after it let up a little, we head right out to get to it.

You can’t even tell how crazy it felt out there by looking at these. And that’s usually my thought during a photo session. However hot, or cold, or rainy… you won’t be feeling that forever.

You can, however, look at your photos forever.

So why not dance on the edge of a mountain for wedding photos?

And if you’re wondering just how I get all my gear around while it’s raining? This picture sums it up.

I bring covers for each camera and lens for bad weather, but when you’re hiking around, trying not to miss a spectacular golden hour, it’s kind of hard to keep that plastic from sliding onto and over your lens.

Golden Hour on Saint Mary’s Glacier is a must see in Colorado.

Sometimes I can’t choose between leaving an image in color, or turning in to black and white. I feel like so much power can be shown in a black and white image, even though it’s rare that I end up posting them.

Now sometimes I see so much joy in someone’s face, I stop caring about the background and want to zoom all the way in so you can see it too.

Can you blame me?

At this point… guys. She was a little frozen icicle just standing in the rain by actual ice water. And look at that joy!

It was contagious.

Still is every time I look at these. I’m sure I’ll go through and find even more to share with you guys from this one… I just thought you shouldn’t have to wait any longer to read about the magic!

Yep. It was all magical. I’ll never be convinced otherwise!

Don’t know how we’ll top this at their wedding celebration this coming Spring, but somehow… with these two… I bet we can.

Congrats you guys! I can’t wait to keep celebrating with you!

Location: Saint Mary’s Glacier (Idaho Springs, ColoradoColorado)

Haley & Fern | Saint Marys Glacier Elopement Session Hike a mile up with us just to see these views. You won't regret spending a little time reading through this adventure elopement session... on the top of a mountain... that yes, has glaciers! Covid has tried to destroy everything. I haven't opened this blog since February, and it's not because I don't have beautiful couples to write about.

#Adventure Elopement #Canon 5dmiii #Canon Photography #Colorado Wedding Photographer #Elopement wedding photography #Mountain Top Wedding Photos #Mountain Wedding Photography #Saint Marys Glacier

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strikxen-writing · 4 years

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Hey remember when I shipped my D&D characters? Whoops cant help myself, here’s more.

(Is it any good? Maybe not. Did I write this completely indulgently? Perhaps... Will there be more....? I would like there to be, also don’t expect a damn thing to be ‘accurate’ cause fuck that)

Growing up, the pun that is Prili Slightstout’s last name was mostly lost on her; that was until she journeyed to Waterdeep to attend a cleric’s college and nearly each and every taller person in her boarding house pointed out that she was a gnome with a last name that meant short. She, however, always took these little jabs with a smile on her face. She felt that being sweet and kind above all else put that very same energy into the people around her, and all Prili ever wanted was for everyone to be happy and harmonious.

This is what drew her to Mishikal in the first place--among other things--the loving and beautiful light surrounding her temples and great joy felt by those who are healed from the brink of death. She wanted to spread that joy to everyone else in the world.

Her years in college did little to dampen her idealistic spirit, though not for lack of trying. When she was in her second year, she was assigned alone to take care of a young child who was in the late stages of consumption. This was intended to be a lesson from a jaded instructor on the futility of saving everyone. Prili, who couldn’t even competently cast a full healing spell yet, was given what the family could afford, a few medicinal herbs and a prayer. She didn’t sleep all night, convinced that through Mishikal’s light even the faintest soul can be brought back. When the boy died, Prili learned that, though Mishikal’s light is incredible and all powerful, the realities of society prevent everyone from receiving Her light. Instead of letting this darken her hope, however, Prili became doubly determined to bring Mishikal’s light to everyone who sought it, regardless of whether they could or could not pay.

Graduating with her accolades in Religiosity, Medicine, and Devotion, however, left her as good as penniless in the greater city of Waterdeep. She needed a job, and quickly as she was no longer welcome in the college’s boarding houses and needed a room to stay in.

This is what led Prili to being stuck in the same hospital at the heart of the dock ward, 5 years later. The Siren’s Boon and Balm was owned by Mr. Wenceslas Almas, a tiefling man who very much was jaded by the pains of the world and ran his hospital in a very particular way. If you can’t pay, walk it off. He had even gone as far as to paint it on a sign set right next to the check in desk, right where Prili sat eating her lunch that day.

Lunch was a small cup of rice and a few vegetables with her normal cup of tea. Modest and a little bland, but Prili was okay with that. Every copper saved up was a copper closer to her dream, and by eating boring meals this week, Prili had saved a whole gold piece. She hummed thinking about the jangling coins she had saved in the little jar next to her alter at home. She scooped the last scoop of rice and onion in her mouth when the bell on the front door jangled.

“Hello! Welcome to the Siren’s Boon and Balm, how can I help you today?” she said in her high pitched voice.

The man who walked into the store had a dirty face with tear stains, though now his face was stern and set. He was a tall man who held his arm underneath a bloody sheet. Prili didn’t need to see anything else; she leapt from behind the counter and held back the curtain leading to the healing rooms.

“Right this way sir! Please, sit down here,” she insisted.

In the back of her mind, she realized that she hadn’t asked for payment first, again, but she would rather risk the money being taken from her paycheck than to risk this man dying on the streets, and the moment she pulled back the sheet, she was glad of her decision. His arm was crushed just beneath the elbow. The man winced and bit down a scream when the open air touched the wound, and Prili couldn’t blame him.

“Oh my!” she exclaimed, “You poor thing! Don’t you worry… by Mishikal’s light all pains can be lifted.”

She held her holy symbol, a sapphire infinity sign on a cord around her neck, and began to murmur her incantation. The symbol began to glow a cleansing light, a light which stuck to her hands like jelly before she pressed it gingerly into the ruined arm.

The man winced at the pain he anticipated, but let out his breath smoothly when the wave of agony didn’t come. He looked up at Prili with watery, thankful eyes.

She smiled and finished the healing spell. When the light dissipated, she could see that he would be okay. The arm was still heavily bruised and probably very tender, but he was no longer at risk of losing his arm. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well, thankfully you got here before any infection could take hold!” Prili reassured, “You just need to rest for a few days and your arm will be good as new!”

“Thank you so much…” the man said.

“What’s your name, if I may ask?”

“Terrence, I’m… I’m a sailor. Our ship is in port for a few days, but as we were throwing down the anchor, my arm got caught in the rope and…” he trailed off, the painful memory still fresh.

Prili was glad that the man had been able to make it to her, and she quietly thanked Mishikal for the opportunity to save a man’s life. The happiness was short lived, because she heard the sounds of the back door opening and closing. Mr. Almas was back from his lunch and she had still not charged this man a single copper.

“Well, that’s all in the past, isn’t it? Now… ah… concerning payment.”

This was the worst part and Prili hated it with a passion. She never understood the exorbitant rates that Mr. Almas charged. By the way Terrrence visibly deflated, Prili knew that there would be an issue. The footsteps behind her told her that she was being watched and she took a deep breath.

“The standard fee for healing is 10 gold pieces,” she said.

“I….I can’t pay that much…” he said sheepishly, “All I have to my name is 2 gold and a handful of coppers…”

She had expected as much, and tried to offer a reassuring smile. “I’ll take one of those gold pieces, that will be enough. Save the rest for food while you’re in town.”

The slamming door behind her told her that taking a tenth of the price was about to land her in hot water, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Her patient was safe and that made her happy. Terrence let a small tear slip and nodded, placing a gold piece on the table next to him. Prili led him to the door and wished him well.

“Thank you, my lady….” he paused searching for her name.

“Prili,” she said brightly, “Prili Slightstout.”

---

A week had passed since Prili had lost her job. Her boss had kicked her out without even paying her her remaining paycheck. You’ve cost me more than you’ve made me! Now she was living off her paltry savings in search of work. Though her new found freedom had allowed her to wander the streets and offer healing free of charge to those who needed it.

Prili pressed her forehead to the ground in front of her small statue of Mishikal. Her alter was small, but well loved. Prili attended to it every morning, sweeping up dust, replacing the offering flowers, and meditating over the candles to strengthen her connection with her loving deity. It was a simple routine that kept her grounded. The morning rays of light trickled in through the window, illuminating the eyes of her statue and filling Prili with rejuvenated hope.

“Thank you for your guidance, my lady of light,” she prayed, “Please help me find more work so that I may administer your light to all I meet.”

Prili glanced over at the small jar she had been forced to dip into. Down to 10 gold pieces after she paid rent, and it would be tax day in a few days so she would need to set aside 2 extra gold for that, leaving her with 8 gold pieces to survive on until she found another source of income. She took a deep breath, all she needed to do was put her faith in Mishikal.

Prili stood up, gave one last bow, and turned to eat breakfast. Her meals these days were simple, incredibly so. The stalest bread she could find at the baker and the very last egg she had from her trip to the market a week ago. Thankfully, if food ever became truly desperate, Prili knew how to conjure the most basic of rations thanks to Mishikal's good grace.

After breakfast, Prili strolled out of her small home and began to wander the town. Without a job Prili found herself with so much time on her hands, it made her uneasy. Her job search was running into dead ends. Her search of all the other medical centers in Waterdeep yielded fruitless. It seemed that Mr. Almas had talked to them and warned them of Prili's tendency to give out free healing. None were willing to hire her on. Her search had then led her to the various other shops. Maybe she would be able to get a job selling food or potions or something of the like. Not being able to use the degree she earned was saddening, but it would just be a temporary thing until she could manage to save up enough money to open her own medical center and truly provide people with the help and care they need. These pursuits, too, ended up unsuccessful.

After hours of asking around for employment and a short break to buy a few coppers worth of lunch, Prili was starting to feel really disheartened. She sat on a bench idly chewing her bland loaf of bread when she overheard some chatter. A pair of teens were idling waiting for an unoccupied carriage to roll by.

“Yeah,” said the taller of the two, “You can make 100 gold in a night if you go down the Yawning Portal’s Well. It’s a bottomless pit of treasure and adventure! All you have to do is make sure you’ve got enough money to pay for the return trip back up, but finding 2 gold pieces isn’t that hard when you consider how much you’ll pull from the ancient rooms.”

“Okay… but a lot of people don’t come back. There’s probably a lot of bones down there..” his friend said.

“Bones-shmones”, the taller one said with a shrug, “They just weren’t strong enough. Unlike us.” With this his lips curled into a smirk.

They continued their back and forth for a little while, discussing things like what they would do with the money, which pretty girls they would date when emerging victorious, and the like. Finally however, their carriage arrived and the boys were whisked away.

Prili thought about the boys’ conversation long after they had left. She didn't feel particularly comfortable with earning money through adventuring. It involved a lot of risking one's life for petty things like "glory" and "thrill". In the several years that Prili had been a healer, she had seen her fair share of what seeking glory and thrill leads to. However, being destitute wasn't a particularly attractive option either. She finished her crust of bread and stood up. Surely it wasn't a bad idea to check out the bar and see if it would be something she could consider.

---

The Yawning Portal was packed tight with all sorts of adventurers. For Prili it reminded her of her college years when adventurers would come in for cheap healing in exchange for being guinea pigs for aspiring clerics. The scent of spilled drinks and skipped bathing clung to the air and scrunched up Prili's nose. She wondered for a moment where the infamous well was, but through the legs of the packed patrons, she saw that it was actually smack dab in the center of the barroom. Prili prickled, her immediate thoughts concerning the dangers of having so many people packed around a bottomless well to the unknown.

"C'mon! Let me down there!" someone said, "I want to be remembered!"

"Ha!" came a response, "As if you'd ever do anything worth remembering Geralt, back off, you went down a week ago and came back up sniveling!"

That started a heated argument, but opened up a few spaces at the bar. Prili climbed her way up one of the barstools and tiredly placed a copper piece on the bar.

"Could I please get a light ale?" she asked.

The bartender wordlessly snatched up the copper piece and produced a small tankard of ale. Prili sipped the foam for just a moment before drinking deeply. Truth be told, she was really stressed out and feeling very alone in the world. Even her old boss couldn't stand her. If she could just afford to start her own hospital...

The ale in her system emboldened her, and Prili sat up straighter in her seat.

"Excuse me!" she called once again to the barkeep, "Who do I inquire with to go down the well?"

The bartender took a few minutes to answer--it was quite busy--but finally he meandered his way over to where Prili was seated.

"That would be me, little lady," he said looking pointedly down at her, "and I don't let just anyone go down neither. Do you have a partner or group you could go down with?"

Prili deflated just a little, but still answered, "W-well no. I don't really have anyone. I-I heard there was just a small fee to come back up?"

"No single adventurers," the barman said with a huff, "I'm sick of people not coming back out. Come back when you've got someone to watch your back down in those catacombs."

Prili sighed and took another swig of her ale. So much for that hope. She would have to find a way to get money elsewhere. She started considering farm labor when she was interrupted by a voice.

"Excuse me, miss?" a gravelly voice said just behind her.

"Hmm?" Prili spun around and found the source of the noise. In front of her stood a very tall, very muscular orcish woman. She wore her hair cropped short and all along one arm were very intricate looking tattoos that seemed to move and shift depending on the angle you viewed it. She was at the same time intimidating as well as beautiful.

"Ah, I heard you were wanting to go down the Yawning Portal... but didn't have anyone to go with," she continued.

Prili, always a fool and slow to pick up on subtle cues looked a little dejected.

"Yeah... I wasn't aware of the rule when I came in, but what can you do?"

The orc woman shifted around and looked down.

"Me too," she said, "I, ah, was wondering..." she trailed off a bit, trying to muster either courage or the proper phrasing.

It was at this moment that Prili finally realized what was going on, and her eyes lit up.

"Would you want to go down with me?" she asked with a hopeful smile.

The woman nodded sheepishly, "If you would have me... I can carry my own, I just need someone so that Durnan will let me go down."

So that was his name. Prili glanced over at the barkeep and grinned. She finished off her ale and held a hand up.

"Excuse me! Mr. Durnan, sir!" she called, nearly forgetting her manners.

"Ah, the small one again, I thought I said-"

"I know! I found a partner!" she said excitedly, gesturing towards her new orc friend.

"Well, the beefy one from earlier," Durnan remarked, "Alright, fine. I'll go get the paperwork."

After he disappeared into the room behind the bar, Prili glanced over at her new friend.

"Paperwork?"

The woman nodded, "Durnan doesn't want liability should you not come back out. Wives and parents have come here with a vengeance before.."

Prili nodded, it made sense. She had to deal with her fair share of angry loved ones in the heartbreaking moments where someone could not be saved.

The papers placed in front of them were covered in tiny printed letters, so small in some places Prili couldn't really read.

"So," she said as she signed her name, "When we're ready to come back up..."

Durnan nodded, "Put two gold in the bucket at the bottom and give it a yank, I'll take the gold and lower the bucket back down to lift you up."

Prili nodded, absently fingering the gold pieces that she had brought with her in her pockets. Once the papers were signed, Durnan announced their descent into the Yawning Portal and the tavern erupted in cheers. It was all so loud that Prili felt a little disoriented. The crowds parted to let Prili and her partner through.

The orc woman put a foot in the bucket and held onto the rope, she reached out an arm to offer to Prili. Prili took it and was scooped effortlessly into the woman's arms. She felt her face flush, she hadn't been lifted like this in years, and then it was a result of the teasing in college.

Durnan gave the two a nod and started lowering the rope into the well. Soon the cacophony of the tavern faded away and gave way to the quiet dripping of the well. Prili looked around, feeling like she had maybe acted too rashly. She glanced over at her partner and something occurred to her.

"I'm sorry..." she said, "I never asked your name... You can call me Prili if you like!"

The woman thought about it for a moment before answering, "Agga. My friends call me Agga."

#d&d 5e #dungeons and dragons #fic #fiction #original character #my ocs #its going to be gay I PROMISE #strikxen

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k-popscenxrios · 7 years

Text

Only 6 Months (CEO!Jungkook x Barista!OC) Part 17

I’M SO SORRY! This took me way too long! I’ve kinda hit writers block as well as running low on time to write. I think I’m getting out of the writers block slowly, and once I do, I’ll be posting parts super fast! I only have a few parts left and I’m still shooting to have no more then 20!

Summary: Who knew that pretending to be in love could create such chaos?

Words: 5,800+ Genre: dramaaa

Part 1 - Part 16 - Part 18

⇨ Masterlist ⇦

Chaerin and Nari refused to let Seijin go to the dinner in hell all alone, so they all went back inside to get ready. Seijin warned them that this place that they were going to was super expensive and that they needed to look like they were wearing something expensive, too.

She begged the two of them to not speak a word of this to the guys since she didn’t want Seokjin finding out. If Seokjin found out, she was afraid that he would just make things worse for her. She was so close to being out of her predicament with Irene, and the didn’t want anything to mess that up.

Once the three of them arrived at their destination, they all automatically were filled with dread. Irene was the first person that they saw when they walked in, as if she had been waiting to personally greet them.

“Seijin!” Irene said in a fake excited tone. Seijin sent a fake smile back as Irene hugged her, “So glad that you could make it!”

Chaerin rolled her eyes as Irene pointed them toward her table. It was filled with a bunch of rich people that oozed narcissistic. The three of them took seats near one of the ends of the table, thankful that the only other seat open was on the other side of the table.

Unfortunately, Jongin was too close to them for Chaerin and Seijin’s liking as he greeted them with a fake smile.

The night felt slow and painful as everyone ordered their food and waited forever to eat it. It didn’t help that the table didn’t have many conversations going on other than the ones that Irene would initiate.

Despite the lack of anything happening, Seijin was insanely uncomfortable. Chaerin could feel her anxiety from across the table.

Just as the girls thought the night had finally ended with nothing bad happening to them, Irene requested to switch seats with the guy sitting next to Chaerin. Chaerin could feel a shiver run through her body as Irene lowered herself into the seat next to her.

“I felt bad that I invited you three, but yet we didn’t get to talk,” she stuck out her lip, “I thought you might appreciate it if I came to talk to everyone.”

Seijin’s fake smile was back as she politely nodded, but shoveled some food into her mouth. Irene’s face twisted in disgust for a few seconds before her eyes landed on Nari. Nari didn’t know Irene other than what she had heard from the guys, so she hoped that Irene didn’t know her.

Unfortunately, Irene knew exactly who she was.

“Nari, dear. I don’t believe that we’ve properly met,” her voice was insanely fake and it made Chaerin lose her appetite, “I’m Cho Irene.”

Nari nodded in response before smiling nervously, “I’m Lee Nari.”

Their conversation fell flat since Irene didn’t know much about Nari past her name and her date. Her eyes began to shift to Chaerin as a result, and Chaerin could feel the jealous stares that Irene was sending her. Chaerin turned to look at Irene with the fakest smile she’d ever put on her face.

“I’m not even going to try with you,” Irene laughed, “I’m just glad that you’re with Jungkook if I’m honest.”

Chaerin’s eyes widened at Irene’s words, but she wasn’t done.

“As long as he’s not marrying someone he actually loves, I don’t care. And don’t think that I don’t know about your little arrangement.”

Seijin’s eyes moved over to Chaerin as Chaerin blinked several times. Irene thinks that we’re not in love… a smile formed on her face at that thought. So as long as she doesn’t know that our relationship is real, she’s going to be happy with it?

“I’m glad that he not only succumbed to hiring you to marry him,” Irene chucked, “but he didn’t even get someone that was pretty.”

She couldn’t let those words get to her as she just rolled her eyes. She didn’t even satisfy her with a reply as Irene continued on.

“Someone like him would never love someone like you, anyway,” Irene sighed, “Poor Jungkook. If he had just said yes to my proposal, none of this would have happened.”

Jungkook would probably want to thank her for this, actually. Chaerin smirked as she took another bite of her food. She could feel Seijin’s confused eyes still on her, and she hoped that Seijin wasn’t going to say anything. She could explain everything later if she just holds off her questions-

“Chaerin, are you and Jungkook fake?” she almost looked hurt at the idea. Chaerin didn’t understand why she looked so upset when it had nothing to do with her.

“Yep, they are as fake as can be,” Irene laughed with a smirk on her face, “Jongin almost got her to admit it, but at this point I don’t need that proof. I know that the two of them devised a plan to deceive their friends.”

Seijin was surprisingly buying into every word that came out of Irene’s mouth as Chaerin slightly winced. She started to develop another friend and she was having a lot of fun with her. It didn’t feel nice to know that Seijin was being drawn away from her because of Irene.

It’s not like Irene is going to do anything about Jungkook and I, Chaerin sighed as her mind was almost made up.

“We started out as fake, yes,” Chaerin confirmed as Seijin looked slightly defeated, “But- I promise you that we are real right now.”

Nari nodded in confirmation as Irene’s eyes widened.

“Oh, now that’s funny,” a bitter laugh left her lips, “You’re so embarrassed to admit the truth to your new friend that you’re inventing lies?”

“I ended up falling in love with him after the first few weeks. Not that long ago, we declared our relationship as real. With our original agreement, I never promised to marry him. If we weren’t real, I wouldn’t be marrying him next month.” she explained as she stared at her food. Her eyes slightly glanced at Seijin, and to her luck, she seemed to believe her.

“I don't believe that,” Irene rolled her eyes as she glanced at Seijin, “what about you?”

Seijin just looked at Irene and immediately nodded in agreement with Irene. Chaerin could tell it wasn't genuine as Seijin cleared her throat and gave Chaerin a slight smile.

The dinner seemed to finally come to a close as everyone finished with their dishes. Irene spent most of the time glaring at Chaerin when she thought that she wouldn't notice.

Thankfully for the three of them, they were able to slip out of the place right after paying a whole paycheck worth of money for the food. Chaerin knew that she could easily ask Jungkook for the money back from it, but despite the cries her bank check was making, she told herself that she wouldn't.

They all headed back to the hotel in a taxi hosted by a guy who was very irritable. Nari would be lying if she didn't think that it had something to do with the fact that they all looked like they had money.

Seijin covered the money for the ride as the driver glared at them. He was obviously expecting a huge tip, and was super upset when Seijin didn't bother to give him a tip at all.

“Do the guys know that?” Seijin suddenly asked when they walked back into the room. Chaerin glanced at her and took a deep breath before shrugging.

“I doubt it. The only one who knows is Taehyung that I know of,” she admitted as Seijin placed her purse on the bed she was going to sleep in. She shrugged off her coat that she had on before she opened her mouth to speak.

“If you ask me, your situation is kind of romantic,” she lightly smiled as Nari and Chaerin sat on the bed the two of them were going to share, “you two started out as fake but fell in love along the way. It honestly sounds like something that only happens in romance novels.”

Chaerin smiled as a blush started appearing on her face, “it sure didn't feel like a romance novel. Everything was going wrong for so long since I thought he didn't feel the same way. It was rough more than romantic.”

Seijin continued smiling, “but the two of you are together now, and everything has ended happily, right? There isn't anything that you’re worried about anymore, is there?”

Chaerin took a deep breath and looked up in thought, “Well, I guess it would be nice to know when he actually ended up falling in love with me. He’s never really told me. He knows when I did, but I don't know when he did…”

Nari couldn't help but get an uneasy feeling as she thought about it. The night that Jungkook had shamelessly flirted with her started to flash before her eyes. She tried to forget it, but an aching in her stomach wouldn't let her.

There was only a three week interval between when he flirted with her and when they officially got together. Sure, feelings can change that quick, but it still bugged her. Jungkook was in search for someone, so he was flirting with people at that party. Simple as that, right?

But why was she so worried when thinking about it?

“Are you alright, Nari?” Seijin’s voice broke through her thoughts as Nari snapped out of her thoughts. Chaerin glanced over at Nari and gave her a questioning gaze.

“Ah, yeah,” she choked out, “I just got lost in thought.”

“About?” Chaerin asked in worry as Nari grew nervous. She didn't want to put anything in Chaerin’s head, but part of her knew that she should. She was not just in love with this guy, but she was about to marry him.

“Uh, well,” she really didn't want to voice it, but she found herself doing it anyway, “You should really find out when he started to fall in love with you. I just can't quit thinking about the night that he flirted with me. He lied and told me he came alone and everything.”

“W-well,” Chaerin slightly laughed, “he was looking for a wife, remember? He wouldn't have flirted with you if he realized that it was you.”

“But Chae,” Nari took a deep breath, “you still need to talk to him. If he loved you, why would he still be flirting with girls like that. What if he still is?”

“Nari,” Chaerin gave her an unimpressed look, “if he really didn't love me the way I thought, why would he have asked me to come here? Why would he have been worried sick that night that I didn't answer my phone?”

“I don't know,” Nari was regretting bringing it up, “I just want you to have a serious talk with him about when he fell in love with you. That should be something that you should know already.”

Seijin took a deep breath and stood up as she saw the door to their joint room opening. The guys were all laughing and it sounded like the night went well for them even if they had to suffer through a boring meeting.

“Nari!” Taehyung called as they walked into the room. The three girls blinked as they caught Taehyung stumbling toward the bed that the girls were sitting on.

“Tae,” Nari paused and stood up, “are you drunk?”

“No!” He answered as Jimin rolled his eyes, “I wouldn't ever drink! Ever!”

“He is,” Jungkook answered as Chaerin took a deep breath. She hated that Nari got to her head, but she did. There was no way that Jungkook wasn't being sincere…

Jungkook walked over to Chaerin as she stood up from the bed and tried to smile at him. The look in his eyes made it seem like he noticed the fake smile, but he didn't say anything about it, “Did you three have a good time?”

“Yeah,” Seijin answered before Chaerin could. She really didn't want the guys to know about their dinner. “It was fun. We went out to eat.”

“Oh nice,” Jimin commented, “Where did you eat?”

“Uh,” Seijin blinked a few times, “We just ate at Serendipity. It was good.”

Taehyung plopped on the bed as Nari sat down next to him, “the meeting was great.”

“And by great, he means boring,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, “Taehyung ended up seeing someone there that he hates so he drank a little too much when we all went to get drinks after.”

“Who did he see?” Nari looked a little worried as Taehyung leaned back to lay on the bed and narrowed his eyes at the ceiling.

“I saw my dad,” he frowned, “he was just as annoying as ever.”

Nari patted him on the head as he sighed and let a smile smile out, “Thank God he didn't ask about my personal life. He would have wanted to meet you, and I don't want you to ever meet him.”

Nari smiled softly before placing a soft kiss on his cheek, “I wouldn't mind meeting your parents.”

“Yes you would,” Jimin groaned from the guy’s room, “When I met his dad, all he did was criticise how small I am. He called me a girl.”

Jungkook laughed and wrapped his arm around Chaerin as he did so. She slightly stiffened at his action, but she tried to relax into his arms when his eyes locked onto hers.

“Are you alright?” He voiced after noticing how tense she was. She nodded quickly, in a way that seemed rushed and fake. He didn't fail to notice, but since everyone was looking at them, he didn't say anything else on it.

The night as slowly coming to an end as Taehyung passed out on Nari and Chaerin’s bed. Jungkook started to try and move him, but he was awake enough to slap Jungkook off of him every time.

“Aish,” Jungkook groaned when Taehyung struck him in the face, “we should just swap rooms.”

“Or, “Seijin smiled innocently as she looked from Jungkook to Chaerin, “the two who are about to get married could share a bed while Nari and I share a bed.”

Chaerin and Jungkook’s eyes widened. Seijin just smiled innocently at Chaerin and she nodded a few more times to get them to agree.

“A-alright,” Jungkook nodded nervously, “I'm in if you are.”

Chaerin looked at Nari with a panicked look on her face, but before Nari could even send an expression back, Seijin rushed Chaerin out into the hall.

“Chaerin, dear, don't let this doubt get into you head,” Seijin coached softly, “I know that I’ve only known you a few hours, but I've known Jungkook for years. You have nothing to worry about. If you’re still worried, you two should go out into the lobby or something and talk to each other.”

Chaerin was about to open her mouth to speak, but Seijin cut her off, “I understand why Nari would have her doubts. She’s just worried about you,and I would be, too. If I didn't know Jungkook like I do, I would be right with the two of you.”

“Seijin,” Chaerin spoke uncertainly, “I hear what you're saying, but it's hard to just forget what Nari said.”

“Don't forget what Nari said, just don't let it consume you. Have you ever read the play Othello?”

Chaerin shook her head as Seijin took a deep breath and leaned against the wall.

“Othello is about a man with insecurities being manipulated by someone into thinking his wife was cheating on him. I know Nari isn't trying to manipulate you like the villain in this story, but the instances are similar, are they not?”

Chaerin nodded slightly as she studied the carpet pattern under her feet.

“Othello was so paranoid that he saw things the way that would make her look guilty. Don't drive yourself crazy like he did.”

Chaerin let a small smile appear on her face as she looked back up at Seijin.

“Thanks, Seijin,” she glanced at the door that their friends were behind, “I should just talk with him about all of this. I don't want to drive myself crazy over this.”

“I’ll be here to help,” Seijin smiled and wrapped her arm around Chaerin’s shoulders gently, “if anything goes wrong, I'm willing to help. I know a few things about resolving big fights. Despite how loving and caring Seokjin is, I had some moments of doubt like you did.”

“You did?” Chaerin’s eyebrows raised as Seijin just laughed and nodded.

“I can tell you about those another time. We should go back inside,” Seijin pointed to the door as Chaerin glanced back at it. She knew that Jungkook would be asking her more questions, but she started to feel more prepared for them.

The two of them walked back inside, and just as Chaerin thought, Jungkook was waiting for them to walk back inside.

“Is everything alright?” He asked as Chaerin’s eyes locked on his. She sent him a light nod and a smile before she took a deep breath.

“I’m fine with sharing a bed with you, Jungkook.”

The rest of the week seemed to go by fast and nothing was going wrong the entire time. That's how Chaerin knew that something bad was going to happen.

And she was more than right.

Not only did the guys find out that the three of them had gone to dinner with Irene, but Jungkook, Taehyung, and Seokjin were not taking the news well. Seokjin was the one most upset, which caused him to plead Seijin into staying around him for the rest of the trip. Chaerin and Nari could tell that she didn't want to, especially since they had all become close friends over the past few days. They only had a day and a half left, but they were still sad that Seijin wouldn't really be around them much, anymore.

Seijin and Seokjin seemed to get into an argument over it all, which resulted in Seijin staying locked in the bathroom of Seokjin and Namjoon’s room. Seokjin didn't bother getting her to come out before he headed to the last meeting that the guys had to attend to in New York.

Taehyung and Nari even seemed to get affected by the news, especially when he told her that Irene now had her on a hit list. He was upset that Nari agreed to go dinner at all, even though she explained a million times that she wasn't going to let Seijin go alone.

Jungkook and Chaerin were the only ones who were still okay with each other, but that didn't last for very long. They had been left in the room alone right before he needed to leave for the meeting. He was checking to make sure that he had everything, but he stopped when Chaerin’s voice broke through the silence.

“Jungkook,” she took a deep breath, “when did you fall in love with me?”

Jungkook looked over at her with a questionable look before a smile broke out on his face, “what’s this all about?”

“Can you answer my question?”

She refused to look at him, to which Jungkook could feel that something was wrong.

“Chae, are you okay?” He moved over next to her, but she didn't move a muscle. Everything had seemed fine until she asked the question. They had just been joking with each other before Jimin had left the room.

“Jungkook,” she swallowed, “please.”

Jungkook grabbed her chin and moved her face to face his. She still wouldn't meet his eyes, so he opened his mouth to try and get her attention on him:

“Chae, look at me,” he cooed, but she didn't listen. A sigh escaped from his nose as he swallowed.

“I don't know exactly when I fell in love with you,” he started to answer the question that she was dead set on him answering, “but I realized that I was in love with you the day before our second double date when we were at the coffee shop. Before that, I just thought that I liked you a little.”

“How?” She asked again without looking at him. He just sighed and gave up on getting her to look at him.

“You kept me thinking positively every day about finding someone. That afternoon when you kissed me on the cheek and I kissed you on the lips… I knew that you weren't just a friend to me anymore.”

Chaerin’s eyes finally met his as the sincerity of his words hit her all at once. Tears started to form in her eyes as she took a deep breath.

“Is that why you flirted with people like Nari before?”

Jungkook blinked a few times before he gave her a confused look, “You know that I was looking for girls because I was low on time. And I wouldn't have flirted with Nari if I had known it was her.”

Those words didn't seem to comfort her at all as Jungkook started to feel a little irritated, “Nari keeps making me feel like you’re hiding something from me.”

“I'm not,” he laughed, but it was filled with disbelief more than anything, “I don't know why she would do that.”

“She thinks that you’re just using me,” Chaerin was losing confidence in what she was saying. Jungkook didn't say anything for a few seconds.

“You think I'm using you?” He sounded so hurt… Chaerin dared herself to look over at him, but she was filled with instant regret. She hated this. She hated that Nari got to her head…She should have listened to Seijin.

“I don't know,” she breathed out, “I don't… I think Nari just got to my head and I wanted you to make me feel better about this.”

“Is this going to happen all the time?” Jungkook laughed again, but it was once again humorless, “when have I ever lied to you?”

“You haven't-”

“Exactly!” He was now raising his voice.

Part of her knew that this negative wave that went through her friends was going to hit them at some point.

“I-I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“You're right, you shouldn't have,” he snapped, “you should have already trusted me enough to not let that get to your head!”

“But you flirted with Nari!”

“Before I knew I was in love with you!”

“But you said you liked me before and just didn't realize it!”

“Exactly! So what’s the problem?!”

“You flirted with Nari when you knew you liked me!”

“But I didn't know I loved you yet!”

Chaerin took a deep breath and looked away from him. He wasn't in the wrong, and she knew it. She was the problem here…

“But you knew you liked me,” she choked out.

“Liking and loving are two totally different things. You don't marry someone because you like them.” He snapped before grabbed his coat and storming to the door, “I'm late. You should go do something because we won't be back until late.”

And with those words, he slammed the door behind him.

I should have just kept my mouth shut, her brain cried. She took a deep breath and opened google maps to see the area around her. Where would she even go?

She suddenly got an idea as she took a deep breath and started typing into the google search bar.

What is Othello?

Chaerin had been sitting in the room by herself for nearly three hours when she heard the door open and close. She figured it was Nari coming back from wherever she had ran off to. She didn’t bother looking up since she was a little upset with her friend for making her doubt Jungkook the way she did.

She spent her night reading the play that Seijin had told her about, and she found herself really enjoying it. She wasn’t a big fan of Shakespeare, but she found herself really enjoying the story. She couldn’t help but feel frustrated with Othello for being so easily manipulated, but in a way, she had been in the same boat as him.

“You’ve been reading Othello?”

Chaerin was surprised to hear Seijin’s voice ring in her ears as she looked up at the girl. She had obviously been crying and wasn’t having a good night just like Chaerin. She gave her a short nod before locking her phone and turning around in the chair was was sitting in.

“Jungkook and I got into a fight,” she explained as Seijin sat down on the edge of the bed that had been hers before Seokjin begged her to move rooms. “I’m such an idiot. I upset him just because I was feeling weird about the whole situation.”

“I’m sure he’ll be over it by tomorrow,” Seijin smiled supportively, “Plus there’s a party that we’re all supposed to attend before flying out tomorrow. Surely by then you two will be fine.”

“Well what about you and Seokjin?” Chaerin sent her a worried look. Seijin sighed and let out a sad laugh.

“I feel like things between the two of us are going to stay strained until I get out of Irene’s life.” Seijin explained as Chaerin nodded.

“You never really explained your situation,” Chaerin noted as Seijin’s eyes widened.

“Omo, you’re right,” she laughed, but this time it was a real one, “I guess you want me to explain then?”

Chaerin nodded as Seijin took a deep breath to begin explaining.

“When I got out of college, I was struggling to find a job. I finally got an interview at Irene’s company, Haneul, and they hired me on the spot. I never understood why, but they practically made me Irene’s slave. I was supposed to do everything for her and never complain.”

“Eventually I got promoted to a better job where I still worked for her, but I wasn’t her servant any longer. I was supposed to sign a 4 year contract for the position, so I did. It had really good pay and I was desperate to be promoted. However, I ended up slowly becoming a slave once again, to not only Irene, but the men under her. Jongin is one of those people. Almost all of them are like him,” he nose scrunched up, “All except for one.”

Chaerin nodded to indicate that she was still listening as Irene continued explaining.

“He actually helped me meet Seokjin,” Seijin smiled as she reminisced in meeting Seokjin, “We were at a dinner party and I was supposed to escort him. He started making friends with Seokjin, to which I was introduced to him. I could tell that Seokjin was into me after we talked for a few hours into the party. He ended up asking me for my number, and the guy who I was supposed to be escorting encouraged me to give it to him. I eventually did, and that was the start of the end. Seokjin’s trying to get me a job set up under his department for when my contract expires.”

Chaerin nodded and took a deep breath to respond, “Wow. I’m sorry you’ve been tied to Irene for so long. Seokjin’s efforts must be a blessing to you.”

“More of a blessing in disguise,” Seijin laughed as she looked down at her hands, “He’s been driving me crazy. I feel like he’s treating me like I don’t know how to do anything for myself. If this month doesn’t go by quickly, I’m afraid the two of us are going to drive each other to the brink of insanity.”

Chaerin slightly frowned, “I hope you two get through this okay. Just remember that Irene would want something like that for you, and you don’t want her to get what she wants.”

“Amen to that,” Seijin smiled and looked up at Chaerin, “I’m so glad to have met you, Chaerin. It feels like it’s been so long since I’ve had a girl friend to talk to.”

“You should come hang out with me and my friends sometime,” Chaerin smiled back, “Kiseung would love to talk about weddings with you. She’s about to get married in a week or so.”

“Omo, well congratulations to her,” Seijin’s eyes lightened up, “We could all help you plan your wedding, too. From what I’ve heard, you haven’t been making very many wedding plans.”

“Well Jungkook and I have to work out this situation first,” Chaerin laughed nervously as she looked over to the bed that they had been sharing the past few nights. It felt so right for her to lay next to him while she slept…

The more she thought about how she messed things up, the more upset she felt.

“Don’t worry too much over it,” Seijin reached out and rubbed Chaerin’s arm to comfort her, “If you just talk to him about it, I’m sure everything will work itself out.”

Chaerin nodded in agreement as she glanced at the clock. The guys should be getting out of the meeting soon, but who knows when they’ll actually get back. Especially now that Jungkook is upset with her, the guys will probably stay out later than they have been.

“I should head back to Seokjin’s room,” Seijin slightly groaned, “He’s probably going to come back early, and if I’m not at least in the bathroom, he’s going to be really upset.”

Chaerin sent Seijin a sorry look as she got up and started to head to the door, “This trip is almost over. Maybe everything will be resolved by then.”

Seijin nodded and headed out of the room, leaving Chaerin in complete silence once again.

It was nearly 11 and there wasn’t a sign of Nari or any of the guys other than Seokjin. As Seijin had predicted, he came straight to the hotel after the meeting.

Chaerin ended up wandering around the hotel, looking around at all of the extra stuff that they had to do. Most of the places were closing down since it was getting late, but the tables near the cafe that closed hours ago were still accessible.

Chaerin had made herself at home at one of the tables with a book that she went out and bought. She almost didn’t go out when she did, but Seijin offered to facetime with her to aid in reading english signs for her.

Once she opened the book, she heard the sound of footsteps behind her. Part of her hoped that it was Jungkook coming to talk to her about what had happened, but of course, it was just a stranger walking by.

She sat in silence for another ten minutes when she heard another set of footsteps. Her heart started hoping the same thing as the first time, but was sorely disappointed to find out who it actually was.

“Oh look,�� Jongin’s voice dripped with amusement, “The meeting has been out for nearly two hours and you’re not with your beloved fiance?”

“Please go away,” Chaerin sighed as Jongin pulled a chair out so that he could sit in it.

“I thought you might want some company,” his voice dripped with evil intentions as a shiver ran down her spine. She continued to ignore him by staring at her book. “After all, someone this beautiful shouldn’t sit alone. She might get snatched up in a big city like this.”

Chaerin gasped as Jongin grabbed her wrist and pulled her in his direction, “What the h*** are you-”

“You know, Jeon is out drinking right now,” Jongin’s smile was disgustingly devious as Chaerin looked away from him, her eyes still wide. She tried to move away from him, but he grabbed her other wrist and practically pulled her on top of him. The only thing separating them was the armrests of the chairs that they were sitting in. “I even saw him flirt with a few American girls. His accent seemed to turn them on a lot.”

“Stop,” Chaerin shook her head, “You’re lying. Jungkook is not out doing those things-”

“You can deny it all you want,” Jongin’s eyebrows raised, “Or you could get back at him by kissing me. He deserves it after what he’s doing to you right now. I bet you he’s taking one of them into a back room as we speak.”

“Stop,” her voice was weak as thoughts of Jungkook’s hand on another girl flooded her mind.

“I bet you he’s really frustrated. You two finally having a fight means that he has a reason to have sex with someone who will actually have him.”

“Stop,” Chaerin’s eyes began watering as she started resisting Jongin’s hold again, “Stop it, he’s not doing any of that!”

“I bet he’s letting her tell him what to do,” Jongin leaned closer, “And he’s complying with her wishes. After all, he is drunk. Anything could happen.”

“Stop it!” Chaerin screamed as she started trying to wiggle out of his hold. He was just a little too strong for her, so her struggling was in vain.

“Face it. You don’t have anyone to help you right now,” Jongin let out a small laugh, “your story with Jungkook was just too good to be true.”

Chaerin’s eyes refused to stop producing tears as she sniffed and moved her head to completely face her lap. She knew she shouldn’t listen to Jongin. Once again, someone was trying to get her to see something that wasn’t there…

“You could get back at Jungkook right now if you want,” Jongin moved one of his hands that was holding her to try and move her head up. He didn’t let go of her arms as he did so, so when she looked up at him, she had barely any escape, “Even if you don’t want to… I might just make the decision for you.”

Chaerin let out a sob as she struggled once more in his hold. Why was this guy out to ruin her like he was? She hadn’t ever done anything to him…

“Come on sweetheart, I don’t have all day,” Jongin was growing impatient s his grip on Chaerin tightened. She let out a little wince and her eyes closed tightly to show that she was in pain. “If you wait too long, Jungkook will see.”

“Jongin, what are you doing to her?”

Chaerin’s eyes widened and her throat let out a little gasp at the sound of a voice saving her day.

...An oddly familiar voice.

Jongin cursed under his breath as he let go of Chaerin and stood up immediately. Chaerin fell back in her seat once she was free and she took a few deep breaths to calm herself down.

“It’s none of your business, Jaemin.”

Jaemin…

Jaemin?!

Chaerin’s eyes widened as she whipped her body around to see who it was that had just saved her from Jongin. The tears that were already falling began to multiply as she opened her mouth and said in a small voice.

“O-Oppa… is that you?”

SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER! Also, disclaimer: I actually hate Othello, but I’m going over it in my college class right now xD

⇨ Masterlist ⇦

-Admin Jinnie

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kanlara · 5 years

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Reform pt 2

It’s been awhile since I posted the first part so please read that first if you haven’t.

It had been a few months since the former hero unofficially moved into my apartment and spring was starting to show its first signs. After the first night Liam, formally the Azure Torch, tried to leave without more than a quick thank-you note on my counter. I’d woken to the sound of my front door rattling. Thinking I had an intruder I trapped him with my powers before I realized what was happening. After a very awkward conversation about secret locks, power misuse, and apologizing Liam agreed to spend the winter in my spare room rather than returning to his homeless lifestyle. We had settled into a routine of sorts that largely revolved around getting to know each other and learning to live with another person. My cats had indeed adjusted to Liam’s presence; well mostly, some had taken to him better than others.

I’d given Liam a set of keys and spending money so that he could leave the apartment to make purchases that he needed fairly early into our current arrangement. He’d bought a set of okayish cloths and started looking for a job the first chance he got. Without references he had some problems, but eventually a small convenience store around the corner hired him. I wasn’t sure if it was out of desperation on their part or the desire to have him stop applying that got him the job, but he made the most of it. As soon as he received his first check he paid me back the money I’d left for clothing despite my protests. Rather than saving anything Liam had taken to buying groceries for the both of us.

PIcking up my favorite take out I let my mind wander for the rest of the walk home. Now that spring was around the corner there was an uneasy feeling in the apartment. It was almost as if we were still locked in battle behind our masks. In a way we were, they were just a different kind of mask while the battle was more abstract and complicated. Some days I felt that I would end up going home to an apartment only filled with cats; And the worst part was that I didn’t know how to feel about it. Fate had played an odd joke on me when I tripped over Liam.

Opening the door I was greeted by my cats and Liam. The Latter of the bunch smiled sheepishly at me wearing only a towel and a small black cat on his head, “I thought I’d have a few more minutes before you got home. I was trying to get Soot off of me. He ambushed me in the shower again.”

I shooed the rest of the cats into the apartment before closing the door and placing the take out bags on the table. I glared at the tiny cat for a moment before moving to detangle him from Liams black curls, “Honestly I think he likes the water because he just climbs under the curtain rather than up it when I’m in there. The vantage point from the top of your head seems to be a bonus he’s growing fond of.” Stepping back holding the dripping cat I pointedly kept my eyes on Liam’s, “You could always just shut the door to the bathroom.”

Liam quickly retreated back to his room; when had I stopped thinking of it as my spare room? His rumbling baritone floated down the hall, “It seems wrong to stop them from using the space for that long.”

I nodded to myself silently as I took out plates and silverware. Briefly considering the plates in my hands I put them back, doing extra dishes seemed absurd. Liam took only a moment to throw on worn but clean clothing before joining me at the dining table. Taking his container he didn’t mention the lack of plates. I’d miss this kind of thing when he inevitably left.

We ate in silence, it was an odd mix of newfound comfort and unspoken thoughts. It was one word short of awkward. Thankfully neither of us chose to say anything. After we cleaned up the trash and silverware Liam pulled out bowls and spoons along with my favorite ice cream. He placed it all on the table and gestured for me to sit. Oddly he waited for me to sit before he sat himself. My flight reflex was starting to itch as I tried to wait calmly while he figured out what he wanted to say.

Sliding a bowl of ice cream across the table towards me Liam’s blue eyes watched me carefully. I thought back to several months ago when those same eyes watched me with distrust. Now I couldn’t quite place what I saw there; worry or hope or fear, something I wasn’t used to, something I wasn't sure I wanted to see. Rather than focus on it I started to eat my ice cream. When I was about half way through he slid an envelope across the table.

I carefully set down my spoon and took the envelope. Looking at him quickly his face gave away nothing as I opened it. Inside were crisp bills, obviously from his paychecks. Dropping the envelope I shook my head, “I can’t take this. You need the money more than I do. Besides that you don’t owe me anything, the life I have is thanks to you...”

He cut me off with a wave of his hand, “You provided me with the same chance. Admittedly I skipped the masked villian reform treatment… but the point stands. Giving me a chance to get back on my feet was payment enough. The least I can do now is pay you rent in thanks for the room while I needed it.”

“While you needed it? Are you leaving?” This is not what I had expected tonight. He was going to leave now that I’d gotten used to him being here. My thoughts raced uncontrollably, unexpected panic rose. Taking deep breaths I stood too quickly. Going to the sink I sought to mask my reaction. It wasn’t as if I didn’t know this day would come. As I tried to calm my breathing I filled a glass of water.

Liam seemed hesitant to speak, as though he knew he had no good answer to the question. I could hear his spoon in his bowl as he ate behind me. A small head butted my ankle and I looked down. One of my cats looked up and meowed loudly before stalking off to the food area tail high. I glanced at the bowls, empty of course and moved into auto-pilot as I fed the waiting cats. The familiar tasked calmed me and I sat again to finish my ice cream. It remained unmelted.

I looked up to see Liam’s smirk, “What like you really wanted perfectly good ice cream go to waste.”

I laughed, I couldn’t help it, “No, that would be a tragedy.” looking down my voice dropped to a whisper, "as it would be if you left."

There was no response for several minutes and I refused to look up at him. Finally he sighed, “I will never thank you enough for giving me a place to stay for the winter. But I can’t imagine having a washed up bum hanging around is a lot of fun. Eventually one of the masks that checks on you will figure out who I was, that will draw more attention.” He paused, “I’m not worth the trouble Ryn.”

"That's not true," I forced myself to look up, "you out of all the masks…"

The look in his eyes told me that was the wrong thing to say but the words had been said. There was no going back from this. He stood and left me sitting there with my regret.

Liam moved out the next day.

#reform #writing #written #short story #part 2 #second #hero #villian #cat #oh shit #sinking ship #wordsnstuff #words #prompt response #writer #write #writblr #mistake #no #cats #pt2

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ananxioussheep · 5 years

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Panic Attacks

If you’ve never had one you might wonder what it’s like for someone who does. I’m going to be extremely vulnerable here so I hope this helps someone who’s seeking to understand what it might be like for someone with an anxiety disorder who suffers from panic Attacks. These look different for everyone (& even for me have evolved over time) but here’s my story. My first panic attack was my junior year in high school. I remember because it happened in the atrium at my highschool and this is where the coveted upperclassmen lockers were. I was extremely driven in highschool and by my junior year was fully a college student taking an entire schedule of AP and Dual Enrollment courses. I think it’s important to note that my parents put ZERO pressure on me to succeed in highschool. I was so thankful that my parents weren’t the kind who would “ground me” if I didn’t do well. All the ever expected was that I “do my best” which apparently in my head meant “better than everyone else”. I didn’t get my first C until my senior year in AP Stats (which I still got a C in while in college so 🤷). Anyway, I was standing in the atrium before classes started for the day and I remember feeling intense pressure in my chest and I started uncontrollably and inconsolably sobbing and hyperventilating. I don’t remember much after that except for thinking I wasn’t sure why I was crying and I needed to pull myself together and get to class (something important was due as it always was). That year I began experiencing anxiety frequently. To combat it I began starving myself and cutting myself. If I was experiencing anxiety in class I would scratch myself in a small spot on my wrist until it would bleed (like when you scratch a bug bite too hard). I kept everything from my parents and lied about lunches for months and “wasn’t hungry at dinner”. I was able to cope hurting myself all day via cutting and starvation that by the time I got home I was ready to burst and would sob in my room as I did in the atrium for what at first seemed like hours (and probably was). I remember being so inconsolable at times I called some friends over one night to talk me down. I’ll never remember the way they stepped in for me that night and reminded me of all the reasons I could live past this, one of them is still one of my best friend to this day and I still go to him when I’m feeling like a basket case. I moved away for my first year of college and all I remember is that year was more lonely than anything. I think maybe looking back I thought a change of scenery might change my problems, it did not. When I moved back to Florida after a year in Charleston I began experiencing my panic attacks again. This time they would happen at work and I was unable to control them. I had a hard time explaining them and would often find myself taking breaks to cry in the bathroom or the walk-in so I could get it out. Nothing would necessarily even spur them but I felt that I couldn’t function normally and I began to turn to drugs for help. Not the legal ones. I went to a tailgate in South Carolina to visit a friend after a particularly hard break up and tried benzos for the first time. I realized how much they calmed me and that I could definitely make these things work. However, at 19 you don’t do anything in moderation so benzos kept me calm during the day and then when work was over and the party was beginning coke, or the occasional Molly would keep me up. The best and worst thing about that period of my life is that I never had any panic attacks. Ironic isn’t it? The one time I’m tearing down my life instead of building it up I stop being anxious. Obviously it was all the crap I was using but somehow that was the most peaceful yet chaotic part of my life. At some point during this season I got on an antidepressant that ruined and saved my life at the same time. Lexapro made me blackout randomly. Sometimes literally and other times it was like someone else was in my body. One particular day I wasn’t feeling great and decided to go home early from work. I blacked out while going 40 miles per hour and caused a 4 car pile up. I had to be cut out of my car because I had crushed my drivers side door on impact. My self and everyone else thankfully only left with a few bruises and burns but it was in that moment I realized how much I was ruining my life and probably really didn’t want to die (despite my actions looking that way). I still carry a lot of shame from my days of drug use and it affects me still. However, now my panic attacks are raw, real, and rough. I medicate (legally now) as little as possible but they are more intense than ever. I still cope during the day and use different breathing and grounding techniques to try to get me through my day and well as this weird habit of counting my fingers on each hand with my thumb really fast just to get my mind onto something else. Whatever works, ya know? I have to work and bring home a paycheck and support my family even on days where it seems impossible. Usually I’ll have my panic attacks on my lunch break or at the end of a long day. I’m a strong introvert on that ever sliding scale and my capacity for connections is about 40 a day. My job currently requires a lot more of me than that and I find myself on nights like tonight where the second I get in the car my breathing stops, I start to struggle, my throat gets that annoying “you’re about to cry lump” and then I inconsolably and uncontrollably hyperventilate and cry usually for at least 15-30 minutes. At this point I usually grab for my medication or else it means a night where neither myself or my husband get to sleep. I then go into a phase where I finally stop crying where I start questioning… why did that happen, am I ok, am I ever going to be able to go to work and home and not do this? Then I get angry. I get mad at myself for not being “stronger” or better or being able to talk myself out of it. I get mad that I had to take a stupid pill so we can all sleep tonight. Then I get angry because I question my sanity and my capability to function as a normal person. If I don’t take my meds it means I will inconsolably cry in bed with my husband holding me until 3 am. One of my recurring panic attack thoughts is “will I ever be "normal”“, "will I ever be able to function normally”. I get so mad at myself for not pulling it together and just being fine. But the problem is just overwhelming. It can make you feel like you will never have a day where it doesn’t happen. You never know when it will happen (Jake and I almost always have to leave concerts early bc I get overwhelmed and start to panic) and it’s upsetting to miss out of life. I wish I could explain the way these moments traumatize you and callous you to the world. And like most things I think my panic attacks are the byproducts of a lot of little things over time. Problem is, they’re all things out of my control. I wish I knew why this happens and I’m starting to unravel a lot more of the physiology of it in an amazing book I’m reading right now (The Body Keeps The Score) but tonight’s panic attack was brought to you by the overstimulation of my brain and how unable I am to cope with mass amounts of people. But as you heard earlier, I like challenging myself. I like being the best. I like finishing first. And so I stick with the things I’ve committed to and always try to get better. I know the things that bring me peace, and I try to do as much of them as I can to avoid nights like this. But, doesn’t always happen. Today’s the best example of that. I woke up read, spent 30 mins in worship and was feeling amazing. Fast forward and I want to quit everything in my life and go move away and hide in a cave because this is one of the most embarrassing and hard to explain issues people are facing today. I hope that someone finds comfort in this, knowing they’re not the only one. I hope someone finds knowledge in this for more understanding and compassion for those struggling with anxiety. It’s not just “weak” people who need to “suck it up”. It’s uncontrollable, can strike at any time, and is catastrophic to self worth and image and even the guilt that it bring for having our family members suffer through it with us. It breaks my heart when Jake sees me like that. He feels like it’s his fault and he feels like he can’t fix it. It creates doubt for my family that I’ll be ok or maybe even my parents feel like they did something wrong. They didn’t. No one did. Except probably me choosing drugs and men and cutting and anorexia to soothe the pain. Now I choose Jesus. And I’ll be real here… he’s the best but he’s not always the easiest or quickest option. Healing takes time. Be patient with yourself and others.

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mrtroy · 5 years

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Someday He Will

I don’t do a ton on social media these days. I read some things on Twitter, and use it as a source to find news I care about. Other than that, I don’t do a whole lot.

The other day I was taking a cursory glance through Facebook and Instagram and as you may have also experienced, these forms of social media have become breeding grounds for parents to laud – and lament – certain achievements in their children’s lives.

Oh look, baby Rutherford turned 3 months old! I can’t believe he’s enjoying tummy time so much!! I can’t believe Millard is already 5! He goes to Kindergarten in the fall. Where has the time gone… Chester got his first paycheck, would you look at that Your dad and I are so proud of you, Grover, we wish you and Frances nothing but the best for a happy and healthy marriage!

If you’ll look past my obvious use of presidential pseudonyms, I’m sure you’ve seen all of these types of posts. And, if you have kids, I’m sure the sense of pride, or anxiety, or a mix of the two is very familiar to you depending on how old your kids are.

Many times as I see this type of content, I quickly glance past it. I may make note of what little Millard is up to, on the off chance that I run into his mom at an event and need to do a quick catch up.

In most cases, though, I keep moving past the potty-training milestones, the birthday height measurements and science fair projects. Not because they aren’t impressive, but simply because that type of content has never really done much for me. I don’t have kids, and I’m not a mom… Every once in a blue moon, I’ll see a dad post about something their kid did, but, from my experience, 95% of the time, it’s moms posting this type of thing.

However, recently something happened in my life, and I want to share it for the sake of all the moms out there – especially the boy moms out there.

As my friends’ boys have grown older, I have seen the general sentiments in their posts change from excited when they walk, to proud when they go to kindergarten, to anxious about how fast they are growing by the time they reach later elementary school age, to a bit of eye rolling over how ‘boyish’ they are in middle and high school, back to proud again after that once they get through the gauntlet that is the teenage years.

Moms, I know you worry. I know you wonder your babies may turn out. What happens when your relationship with your son changes?

I hate to break it to ya, but he won’t always be so cooperative when you want to take his picture, or let you drop him off at school. There will be times in college where he won’t pick up the phone, or answer your text. He’ll very likely try to go on some sort of trip without telling you; there may be a few significant others he hopes you’ll never find out about, and there will undoubtedly be 1,000 times where you’ll ask yourself who is this child now? That can’t be the same kid who used to rest his head so contently on my shoulder after a bottle…

Will he ever appreciate you, Mom? Will he ever truly understand how much you care for him? Will he ever stop and notice all the ways you have tried to prepare him for the life ahead of him?

The answer, I can assure you, is yes, someday, he will.

For me, that someday came barreling at me completely out of the blue last week.

My mom was on vacation with my dad. They were touring a few National Parks in Utah. This is the kind of trip that my mom lives for. Nature. Hiking. Exploring. Free entry into the national parks via her lifetime pass, and reciprocity to visit other gardens along the way due to her membership benefits with the Morton Arboretum …

If you know my mom at all, that’s like a Mount Rushmore of benefits.

Anyway, on Monday morning, June 17, my mom sat down at breakfast to write me a letter. This letter, that you’ll see below, embodies everything that is great about my mom’s and my relationship.

She included so many little details in this note that were not only important to her – but she also knew that I would appreciate them. And, for the first time in my life, I think I was able to fully appreciate them.

First of all, she sent the letter on stationary from the (potentially) world-famous Bumbleberry Inn and Motel. How do I know this? Because she went through the trouble to get her hands on Bumbleberry stationary. I picture this process, where you have an extremely zealous traveler coming up to a Bumbleberry employee and asking if they have stationary, or something in which she can use to send a note to her son. There’s a chance the paper could have been left for guests in each of their rooms, but this is full-size stationary, not a sheet off of a tear pad. So, at least in my version of how the events went down, my mom had to ask for this. And, knowing her, she would most definitely do that!

The top of the note not only has the date, but it specifies that it was Monday morning, and that it was written during breakfast. Not only is this thoughtful letter-writing technique commonly practiced in eras gone by, but, as I have learned, this is how my mom’s brain works. Every time I go on a trip, be it for work, or pleasure, she asks, okay, Monday, what did you do Monday? And after we’ve gone through Monday, and gotten sidetracked a few dozen times, she’ll always come back to it in her mind, and say, okay, Tuesday, what was Tuesday?

For years, I have had to bite my tongue and not say, Mom, okay, do we have to go through every day of the trip as if it’s being used in a legal deposition? And yet, somehow, to read ‘Monday… Breakfast’ at the top of this note, it finally clicked. This is her. This is how her mind works. This is what she wants to tell me, and this is how she structured it in her mind. The realization that she was getting great joy out of this changed everything for me.

She started the letter with reference to her favorite writing utensil – the trusty Ticonderoga #2 pencil. It’s a long running joke in our family that Mom always has a Ticonderoga #2 behind one – and sometimes both – of her ears. As soon as I saw that the letter was written in pencil, I knew it was a Ticonderoga #2, but reading her reminder made me smile.

I won’t break down for you every part of this note that touched me so personally, because there is so much layered into the way she wrote it – from using certain exclamation points in places where I knew she would use them – to the way she used parentheses. They mean more to me than they could ever mean to you.

That’s not the point of this post.

The point of this post is to be a reminder of how uniquely special a mother’s relationship can be with her son.

It takes time, and for a long time, my mom was putting in effort to connect with me that went without being fully realized on my end.

She sent me notes like this in college that I opened, read, and glanced at the articles she’d cut out of the newspaper thinking I would like to read them, and I didn’t read them, or at least not all of them.

She put together a photo scrapbook of a class trip I took in middle school, and I probably looked at it for five seconds back then. As I was cleaning out my house to move about two years ago now, I found that little scrapbook and I marveled at the effort and the care she put into making it and preserving those memories.

The common theme may sound like it’s just a factor of building a foundation, and waiting 30 years, but I think there’s also more to it than that.

I’ve written more about that here, but the short version is this:

Invest in what your son(s) likes now. That’ll no doubt change, but the thing he’ll come to appreciate most when he’s in his 30s and beyond is that you took the time to know him. That while you may not have been super interested in baseball (the thing I liked most throughout most of my formative years) or trucks, or toy cars, or video games, or Marvel movies, purely the fact that you wanted to take part in his life with him matters. A lot.

He’ll brush you off at first. And probably for the entire span of when he’s like 11 through 25…

But it’s worth it.

I look at the relationship I have with my mom now and it brings tears to my eyes.

Her methods may not work for you. They may not feel authentic, and your kids may not respond to them the same way that I did. Heck, the way my mom and I connect is not the same way she connects with my brother. But, she has her own connection with him, and they bond in ways that are equally unique to his personality. But they do connect. And it is special.

As I close, I will end with a call to enjoy the journey.

I laugh a little that I’m giving advice to moms – me?

But for many of you that will read this, I know you. I know your moms, and I know the amazing connections you have with them.

I also know how hard it can be to know how to navigate all that goes into raising a son. I certainly wouldn’t want to have been fully responsible for raising me…

Many of you have husbands who will play their own role in helping you raise your boys, and they will do their part, no doubt. And your boys – if they’re anything like me – will gravitate heavily to their dad at certain times. And thankfully so. That’s obviously normal. Enjoy the connection that’s built there, too.

But, as most any boy would tell ya, there’s just something special about the relationship we have with our mom.

If you wonder in the back of your mind if your little guy will ever fully appreciate you for all that you are, and how much you care about him.

Someday, he will.

Okay, enough out of me. I hope my words made your hearts smile a little bit. Go moms!

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ithoughtyouweredifferent · 7 years

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Part 8: New York New Me

Requested by: Sort of @ocean-marina Line Request: “No fucks given. Next please,” and “Just come home alive…okay?” @i-cant-even-superwholock-anymore A/NL yes, this was formerly posted on @imagineimeliza but was removed-I am ImageineI’mEliza but because this fic was going on for so long, it doesn’t belong on a one-shot maybe 2 parter blog! Word Count: 2,800ish

Chapter 7

Table of Contents

Chapter 9(link also at bottom)

When Lin had gotten on a plane bound for London, you were certain that you’d never see him again, you doubted you’d ever contact him again, and you found it unlikely he would even hold true to his offer of listening for better job openings for you to apply to. You were wrong on all accounts but one. Email became your friend once again as you talked to him while he was across the sea he would complain about this and that but then tell you a piece of overwhelmingly excited news and for the first few months there was a link to so a friend he had somewhere that had an opening for a job he thought you might want to take and you sent in your resume to all of them, you got more calls back than you had dreamed of.

You weren’t surprised when July came with a letter saying that you had been let go from the school. You got the letter the same day that you were due to set out for a fancy schmancy museum up north that seemed fairly promising. Knowing you weren’t going to have a check coming in anytime soon was worry some but motivated you all the more to exceed expectations and land this position. It had excellent opportunities for growth, it was by far better pay than what you made now even factoring in the higher cost of living, hopefully, it would be something you would do for a long time.

With a lovely letter that summed up to say “you’re out of a job,” on the counter, you threw your bag into your backseat and hit the road, a fifteen-hour drive to a fifteen-minute interview that hopefully would come through. You had a small hotel room booked in advance that you wouldn’t get to until 1am at best but it would be somewhere to sleep and then freshen up for the interview and wait at for the next three days while attending a few other promising interviews in the area. Lin promised that the people at all four for the places you had on this trip were relatively fast working and you would know if you’d made the cut within the week.

It was with confidence and hope fueled by reopened dreams you had all but abandoned that you had landed your job as a curator for the New York Historical Society. You had a week to get settled here before you started. It turned out to be more of an overpaid intern position beneath the real curators, but you would grow and prosper here. When you got the call saying you had the job it was disheartening to realize that you didn’t have anyone to share the good news with. All you did was send an email to the friend who got you here, a friend probably asleep due to time zone differences, a friend who now that he had fulfilled his promise to listen for an opening for you would fall out of touch. But it was a friend for now and that knowledge only strengthened your resolve to make this new position in this new city something you would share with others

“T 23 15, ivory and ink, hand-crafted maybe late 18th-century cup, 3 cm tall five cm diameter at rim and base seven cm diameter at largest,” you looked at the small sketch you had made beside the location and description biting your lip. You had been trying to find this piece for a good twenty minutes, it wasn’t on the shelf it was supposed to be, not the entire case that it might be, you’d gone down the case in front of, behind, to the left, and the right of where it was supposed to be just in case it had been originally put in the wrong place but now you were going to have to add it to the list of artifacts that you would have to look for when you searched the entire room top to bottom for items that had been completely misplaced.

Three years you’d been in the city, two and a half years you’d fit in with your coworkers and enjoyed life, two years without talking to anyone but them - people from your teaching days had faded out of your life just like people from college had. Almost immediately.

“Hey Y/N, we’re all headed out for lunch today, you coming?” Tanya called popping her head in, she had become one of your best friends quickly and easily.

“Ummm I’m actually a bit behind, who’s turn is it to stay today?” You asked, “Joe right?” she nodded, “Tell him I’ll cover him today if he’ll take it from me next time,” you offered and she gave you a thumbs up, before darting out the door while you went back to inventory. There were so many amazing things here and they were always rotating in and out so there was always more to find. You thought that the idea of enjoying your job was nothing more than that, an idea, but you were wrong. You enjoyed coming to work every day, when you skipped going with friends to lunch it wasn’t because if you left you would be miserable the whole time knowing you had to come back, it was because you didn’t want to leave. Of course, there were downsides, but you loved enough of it that those didn’t matter. You had a routine and you were happy with it.

Looking back at your clipboard you began looking for the next item which was where it belonged thankfully. As were the next several, you had gotten back into your rhythm when you heard the bell over the door jingle, they shouldn’t be back so soon,

“Hello, is anyone in here?” you heard someone call, not many people knew about this door,

“Yes, I’ll be with you in just a moment,” you told them wondering who was using the back door that didn’t already know the place like the back of their hand.

“How can I help you today?” You asked as you rounded the corner,

“Yes I was wondering if-,”

“Lin?” you gasped in shock when you looked up at his face for the first time and he looked you over in confusion for half a second before you found yourself engulfed in a smothering hug, “oh my,” you yelped in shock but hugged him right back

“Y/N? I can’t believe you’re here, what’re you doing? How’ve you been? Are you-”

“Woah one question at a time, I can’t handle three years of questions in one breath,” you said pulling out of his hug, he smelled exactly like you remembered,

“God I’ve missed you,“

“Same here, wow three years. Doesn’t feel like three years,” he said blinking rapidly

“It feels like just a minute has passed but at the same time, I was teaching down south at least a lifetime ago, maybe two. What’re you doing here? Last time we talked you were finishing up in London and off to work in animated films - getting an EGOT with that. Hell, you were sponsoring on toothpaste and cereal commercials for a while and then you just stopped. Fell off the face of the earth. What happened for almost two years that had you hiding in some sort of underground cave?”

“You can ask me to sum up, three years in one breath but I can’t ask that of you? That’s not fair, I’m wounded,” he teased and you rolled your eyes, “If you must know, I’ve been doing research and writing,”

“How many months worth of paychecks is it going to take for me to get tickets?” You sighed,

“I don’t have any idea yet, but how are you doing?”

“Pretty great, I’ve actually fallen in love with the city and the job and, you’re going to be proud of me, they’ve got me playing at charity dinners and things, and wait for it,” you paused, “Introductions, presentations singing and playing in the background, the whole nine yards,” suddenly your feet were off the ground and behind you spinning, “Lin! Put me down,” you laughed, smacking his shoulder as he spun you,

“I am so happy for you, that’s wow,” he paused and seemed to think for a second, “You wouldn’t happen to be playing at a ceremony Thursday night would you?” you narrowed your eyes,

“Actually, I am, the coordinator of the ceremony is supposed to come in later today,” he grinned wide at your answer, “Why,” he pursed his lips trying to suppress a smile and shook his head, “Lin-Manuel what is going on in that brain of yours?”

“Later today might be sooner than you thought,” he said and your eyes went wide as you looked around frantically as if someone was going to suddenly appear from behind one of the many artifact shelves, you hurriedly patted your hair down and straightened your shirt that Lin’s hugs had wadded up,

“What? I can’t mess this up Kathrine’ll kill me if I lose this one, its some big deal hotshot that we need to keep things going and not get wiped off the pages. Some guy probably filthy rich probably so full of himself he can’t see right from left” you groaned in frustration and he laughed heartily at your worry,

“I think you’ll be okay, You’re such a goof,” he said, “’sometime after 11′,” it’s almost 12, isn’t it?” he checked,

“What? They’ll be here sometime after 1,” you ran over to the computer that was at least as old as some of the objects in the back of this room, “Nononono,” you groaned, “the screen’s fuzzy I misread it Oh god ah okay Lin,” you took a deep breath and shook your head, “Okay sorry, I’m a mess. What did you come in here for in the first place?”

“To talk about a ceremony Thursday night,” it clicked in your mind all at once and you wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor

“You can’t be serious,”

“as a heart attack,”

“I uh..oops?” you giggled, “can we forget that I said anything? Like pretnd you just walked in the door and I didn’t stereotype the no-name leader of Thursday Nights ceremony at all?”

“Oh you mean the pat where I’m rich and so full o myself I can’t see up from down,” you thought he was joking but you were very hesitant and unsure,

“yes?”

“I don’t have any idea what you are talking about, I just got here,” he told you smiling and you breathed a heavy sigh immensely relieved to know that you hadn’t just ruined everything.

“So anyway, I got called in to do something because of Hamilton again, and it’s lost a bit of its hype, not much but some so why not? Plus I might be planning a bit of a surprise like one I did a while back,” he grinned, "You know how I promoted Hamilton at The White House when I was supposed to do something for Heights,”

“You are not!”

“Oh I am so!” his smile was infectious, “But you can’t tell anyone - it’s gonna be a surprise and if I chicken out I don’t want people hounding me about it,”

“You’re not going to ‘chicken out,’” you promised, “Now that you’ve told me this, you’re stuck,” you stuck your tongue out at him, "If you want to sit down we can go ahead and start going over the plan for Thursday night, it needs to run with as few hitches as possible, you’re going to throw it off a bit if I’m the only one allowed to know about your plan of change of plans but no fucks given, next order of business would be the order of introductions, we have a pretty standard template of order of importance but…” and just like that you managed to get down to business and plan out the evening,

“That sounds perfect. I don’t think a meeting like this has gone this smoothly in…I don’t even know how long. What are my chances of having lunch with you now, to catch up and interrogate you?” he asked and you smiled,

“Everyone else should be getting back from lunch any minute now, it was supposed to be Joe’s day to stay back and watch over stuff back here but I offered to stay instead,” you said, “But how would dinner sound?” and he nodded,

“I was planning on meeting up with a bunch of old friends tonight, that’d be excellent,”

“Great, I can’t wait,” he wrapped you in a short hug that lasted only a few seconds, you both already pulling back when Tanya and the others came in all laughing until they froze in the doorway seeing the two of you locked in a hug,

“Well, it was really nice seeing you again,” you said your face scarlet red, as you looked between Lin and your coworkers

“Yeah, back atcha Socrates,” he said and hurried out the door,

“What. Was. That?” Tanya asked,

“That was an old friend who helped me land this job in the first place dropping by for a visit…and to go over the plans for Thursday night,” you told her as calmly as you could in your flustered state, the others had all scattered almost instantly but would hound you later.

“Y/N, you were broken when you came here, you never said that the Lin that you were friends with that had told you about this job that had faded from your life leaving you dead inside was the Lin-Manuel Miranda. I don’t want to see you like that again,” you tried to protest, you weren’t broken, and even if you had been, it wasn’t because of him in the least, “I mean it, be careful, Thursday night is a big deal for us, important people will be there, important people with deep pockets,” you knew what she meant by that all too well: money was always what things boiled down to in any business and boy could you use some of it right now,

“I’ll be fine, we’re just two good friends that have found ourselves working on a project together. I’m meeting him and a bunch of friends tonight for dinner. Friends.” you stated as many times as you logically could.

“Just come home alive, okay?” she asked, “If you come to work next week like a dead zombie because of him I will personally see to it that he doesn’t get another gig as long as he lives, And don’t you fall for him again tonight, you better be sober and chipper tomorrow morning or I will get Katherine to pull both of you out of the banquet ceremony on Thursday,”

“Yes mom,” you mocked

“Good. Now then, inventory.” Tanya was your best friend. You knew that she only had your best interests at heart and she was right. You couldn’t let yourself get involved with him again because he needed to chase his dreams all over the planet and you just couldn’t do that. You needed a stable environmnet where you knew what was going on and that just wasn’t something you owuld be able to have if for whatever reason old flames re sparked. But it was only a short fling before and besdies, it’s been three years. He probably found someone else and you had both moved on. He was your friend. That’s how it is and that’s how it is going to stay.

Chapter 9

So that’s not what I originally had in mind for “No Fucks given next,” I actually had an audition thing going on that was half-written mentally and I didn’t have any idea what to do, neither of the two characters in this series are likely to be in a particularly high risk situation.

#lin x reader #lin manuel miranda #i thought you were different #chapter 8

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