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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

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Friday Nights and Take-Out (1)

Would I be someone you’d hypothetically hook up with?

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre/Tags: strangers to friends to lovers, popstar/idol!jk, fluff, angst, future smut; this is a dialogue-heavy series so read if you’re into that! Also Jk is a sweet friend

Warnings: foul language, these characters talk alot bc I talk alot, heavy drinking, eventual smut

Word count: 4,300

Series summary: You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the cafe, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

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A/N: My recent dive into fanfics compelled me to unearth this thing I wrote 5 years ago for a certain curly-haired brit (luvu harry) but I never finished it so it never saw the light of day but now it will bc i love jungkook so much and idk what this is but let’s see!

There’s a light and unsure knock at the door. As you open it to see who’s visiting you this Friday night, you immediately wish you stayed at least a half hour later at your family-run café so you didn't have to be having this conversation right now.

But you are having it right now. At your apartment. With your ex-boyfriend who finally decided to give you an explanation as to why he broke up with you five months ago.

The next thing you know, he’s saying he’s decided to move back to Australia after graduation, he’s saying sorry for the nth time, you’re watching him walk out the door, you’re heading to your room for your blanket, you’re going back to your couch, and then you’re crying as it dawns on you exactly what just happened.

The break up had caught you off-guard because things were going so well. Your dejected and grieving self wasn’t enough to scare him away and his shy, non-expressive self didn’t sow any doubts on your relationship. You two barely fought, too, too alike in disposition for any disagreements or grudges to fester and hurt you. Things just worked.

But like many good things, this one ended too. It’s like he just woke up one day and decided it wasn’t going to work out anymore, for what reason, you never knew until now. It hurt you, of course - it was still a memorable 2-year run - but true to form, you were able to dust yourself off quickly and get back on your feet shortly after.

You tried to reach out though; you were good friends before anything anyway, but he avoided you like the plague and you thought you’d not only lost a boyfriend but a friend too. Tonight felt like the closure you didn’t know you needed. He’s gone, for good. And then after graduation, he will be gone for good, for good.

You stay lying on your couch until you get a text from Jungkook, your new famous friend and current favorite person.

JK: Ran into Jieun at work, says drinks on her at The Third tonight. You up for it?

Nope, you say to yourself.

You: I don't wanna go out tonight.

You immediately reply. On a normal night you’d think about it, or even pretend you’re considering it, but not tonight.

It isn’t one of those nights when you’re sad and you want to be around people and get wasted so you can convince yourself you will be okay. It’s one of those nights when you’re sad and you know you will be okay the next day but right now you’re not and you’ll deal with it until the morning comes. You’ll just have to wait because it is only 7:30 in the evening.

You try to think of a series you’ll binge-watch, but then your phone rings and it’s Jungkook’s meme face, the one he took last week and saved as his contact photo, lighting up the screen.

“Hey, you alright?” He asks, as you groggily pick up and say “hi.” You think he probably thought something was up when you didn't have a follow up message after you turned him down for something.

“Yup,” you manage to respond after an ugly sniffle. “Except I’ve been ugly crying for the past 10 minutes,” you continue.

“What happened?”

He seems to have stepped out of wherever he was because you hear the mumbles in the background soften quite a bit and you figure you probably disturbed his dinner.

“Jinyoung came over and said the shit I needed to hear five months ago,” you start. “He copped out cause he got scared, Jungkook. Not of getting hurt, okay, which I always said was a bullshit reason for anything but he got scared of me and my dreams. I mean, come on, how much of a fucking coward can you get?” you blurt, sniffles in between phrases, fingers pressing the bridge of your nose to try and keep yourself from crying even more.

“But I don't know, I’m pissed but he looked so sad and sorry and now he’s moving back to Australia and I just…” you try to continue, frustration rising up again. You’re a mess of emotions right now, that’s for sure.

“Ah, boys,” Jungkook breathes out, knowing this conversation is too important for it to be had just over the phone. “I could come over with food if you like. I know you probably don't need me but you need the food so…” he trails.

You smile to yourself. “As long as I’m not disturbing your Friday night plans.”

“You aren’t. I’ve had enough of the hyungs, if I’m being completely honest,” he replies, voice a little louder.

You hear a mix of scolding and laughter in the background, knowing for sure that the rest of the guys are giving Jungkook shit for bailing out on them for you. Again.

“Sounds good,” you say. “Thanks.”

You hear a knock on the door under the fleece blanket you have over your fetus-laid body on the couch.

“It’s open!” You shout, as you tuck the soft white material under your chin and move to your side for a more comfortable position. You look at the built, chocolate-eyed, knife-for-a-jawline pop star walk into your place with what looks like take-out Japanese food.

“What happened to locking doors?” He asks with a concerned and almost terrified tone, brows scrunching under his stray locks, the rest of his hair hiding underneath his black bucket hat.

“I didn't wanna escort Jinyoung to the door because it felt poetic to watch him leave from a distance…” You dramatically say.

“And you were too lazy to walk 10 steps to lock the door, but were energized enough to find your blanket from your mess of a closet in the far corner of your room?” He continues, blinking continuously at you.

“Exactly,” you say, as you point to him as if giving him props for reading your mind.

He rolls his eyes but grins as he does, revealing his dimple that you believe is the first line of offense of his charm. You may not be one of those people who get hysterical when they see him — although you did end up embarrassing yourself when you bumped into him at the café a few months ago when you’d met — but you know charisma when you see it, and you can’t deny that it basically oozes out of him even when he’s not trying.

He sits on the couch, in the area where your feet lie, and he starts unwrapping the food and lays them out on your coffee table. You sit up ready to pounce on the sushi rolls in front of you when he stands up and gets two glasses of water. “Anything else you need from the kitchen?” He asks.

You respond with a no and watch him open the cupboards, and you can’t help but be touched at the effort. Here is a guy whom you’ve only known for a few short months, blowing off his Friday night plans to be with you because your ex-boyfriend decided to show up… and because you needed food and Jungkook knew you wouldn't make your own when you’re upset. You’ll probably just end up with a bowl of ice cream topped with cookie dough and chocolate chips or something.

“Thanks for being here even if I don't really need you to be,” you say after chowing down a salmon roll, legs crossed underneath you as you both sit on the floor and eat from the coffee table.

“You’re overstating that, Y/N,” he laughs, looking at you, as you’re about to have a mouthful of the tuna roll this time. “I’m 200% sure that you would’ve stayed underneath the covers and probably just ate ice cream or gummy worms until morning if I hadn’t come.”

“Fine,” you start, putting the food down, straightening yourself. “Thank you for my happy food and for being here on a Friday night, watching me carbo load on rolls and tempura rice in my jammies under my blanket. It really means a lot.” You flash him a smile.

He laughs at this. “May I remind you that this is nothing compared to last week? Keeping me hostage here wasn’t the most fun. Except for your comfortable couch that I had the pleasure of sleeping in,” he grins, tapping the empty space on the sofa next to him.

Right, last week. How could you forget?

Your days-late New Year celebration ended with you being a goner at the bar, Jungkook being the only one available and strong enough to take you home, what with your friends' adventures and misadventures that night.

By the time you were home, you were completely passed out. Long story short, he had stayed - which you didn’t know he did - you walked out of your room half naked, heard a sound and someone approaching, screamed and grabbed a knife, ready to attack your supposed intruder, who only turned out to be him.

So yes, skipping out on drinks tonight didn't come close to him having to take care of you the week before and almost being stabbed by someone he was only trying to help.

“Please don't remind me,” you say, feeling your cheeks turn red.

“It’s a funny story to tell,” he chuckles and proceeds to get a mouthful of his own tempura rice bowl. You look at him surprised - didn’t he just have dinner at the dorm? You shrug it off, almost forgetting this is Jungkook you’re talking about and his bottomless pit of a stomach.

“I could’ve killed you!”

He laughs. “But you didn’t.”

“And I didn't have an ex-boyfriend knocking on my door to apologize for being a dick,” you say, sounding serious all of a sudden.

You know that even if you don’t really intend on having Jungkook here, it still means a great deal to you that you have someone you can talk to. You didn’t want to disturb your friends who were busy with their own work and social lives and having him here is really more than you could ask for, especially considering what he does for a living.

“What did he say?” He asks, eyes soft. You’d only mentioned the breakup in passing a few times before because really, what more can you say? Sometimes relationships just run their course; it happens. At least that’s what you thought it all was.

You sigh, readying yourself. “He said that he just started to think about that talk we had about the things we wanted, and he pointed out the fact that I wanted to do so many things and it just scared him—my goals and the fact that I could reach them scared him,” you share, dragging the words and almost shouting at the stupidity of it.

“I know I always say we shouldn't invalidate anyone’s fears but that’s being selfish and just ridiculous.” You put the chopsticks down, as if to prepare yourself for the flurry of emotions you were about to release.

“This guy stood by my side when I got injured and when Grandma died and I was a literal mess. But I got myself together and I got better for myself and for him and then suddenly me wanting more out of life, more for myself, suddenly scared him?” You pause for a bit, catching your breath.

“It’s like, when he realized what I - what we - could become once real life happens, he bolted out the door, out of this country, back to everything he knew before me, before us.”

You’re emotional again, air catching in your throat as you feel the tears pool around your eyes once more. By this time, Jungkook had paused eating his meal to focus all his attention on you.

You continue on about that 15-minute conversation you had - if you could even call it that, given that it was all Jinyoung talking, with you staring at the man you once considered you could have a future with.

Once you’d calmed down, you and Jungkook exchange thoughts about relationships, back and forth with nuggets of wisdom that you don’t really expect from someone you thought didn't have the time of day to maintain a relationship.

He’d be constantly linked with models and fellow pop stars, which he’d noted weren’t anything serious or factual for that matter, at least those that weren’t part of some PR stunt, yet here he is right now, agreeing with what you’re saying and adding a different perspective to things.

He is a hopeless romantic after all, that much he’d admitted during one wine-filled night after crying over Titanic while you were both on the phone (“they literally knew each other for just 3 days, Jungkook, they couldn’t possibly be in love,” you’d shouted. “Ah, 1900s romance,” was all he said. “So beautiful, isn’t it?” Another gulp of wine and then he’d fallen asleep.)

You two find yourselves grabbing the pitcher of Sangria from your fridge and settle on other topics, like what could be acceptable reasons for breaking up with someone, to the ideas of fate and destiny - which you constantly bicker about because you don’t believe in it while he does, oh so passionately - to the afterlife.

“Relationships are so draining,” you say, tipping your head back on the couch, a groan escaping you. “Even after it’s over, it still takes so much out of you.”

“I can only imagine,” he laughs bitterly.

“Words of advice from Friday Night Me - don’t get into one. It’s tiring to pick up the pieces once it’s over.”

“Friday Night You?”

“Yeah, the one who’s upset. Monday Night Me will probably say something different.”

This amuses him, but he nods in agreement nonetheless. “Relationships tend to get messy and I’ve already got enough crazy to deal with,” he continues. “That much I’ve seen watching the hyungs get into these things from the sidelines. I’m sure it’s great and all and I can’t wait to be in one too, don’t get me wrong.” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“I mean hello, Jack and Rose?” You roll your eyes. “Allie and Noah?”

You laugh. Seriously, this guy needs to watch more romantic films.

“But I don’t know, too much going on with me right now, I guess,” he continues, shoulders slumped, eyes suddenly finding your fur rug interesting.

You dwell on this thought a little longer than you had wanted.

You get what he’s saying, though. It’s draining enough for a commoner like you, what more for a worldwide superstar like him? You try to decipher if it’s sadness in his voice, maybe frustration? Resignation? Acceptance?

“But I’m sorry you had to go through that, Y/N.” He says, subject of the conversation now back to you, causing you to break out of your reverie. “I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better,” he says, hand scratching the back of his neck.

“Hey, no need to be sorry! I’ll be fully functional again by tomorrow. I just didn’t realize there was more to the breakup so I was just thrown off a little bit.” You flash him a smile. “But I’m good, really. And the food was enough,” you add. “And your presence, of course.” A smile again. You realize you seem to do that a lot when he’s around.

But you do feel better. You hadn’t thought much about Jinyoung since the breakup until tonight, seeing all the other things going on in your life. But seeing and listening to him made you feel all sorts of emotions that you really just wanted to let out.

You’d kept a lot of these thoughts to yourself the last few months because you didn’t feel like there was more to say after that first goodbye, and it was nice to have Jungkook there to just listen, which is what you said you wanted him to do (“what kind of friend do you want me to be tonight?” He’d asked. “The listening one,” you’d replied.) But you’ve said what you needed to say, felt all that you needed to feel, and now you’re shutting close, under lock and key this time, that chapter of your life once and for all.

After a fairly long silence, when he was sure you’d already expressed all your frustrations, he let out a breath.

“Well, this was a much better option than drinking your sadness away at some club, yeah?” he asks, moving his body to his left side with his back on the armrest so he’s now facing you who’s also back on the couch now, sushi rolls and tempura rice all gone, sangria but a sip left.

“Well, that wasn't an option in the first place, Jeon,” you call out. “I’m not really one who would take advantage of my misery and use it to justify a night of drinking and awkward hook-ups,” you anticipate, recalling the countless times your friends had encouraged you to go out and find someone good enough for a one night stand these past months.

“Ah, so you’re not a fan of hook-ups, no?” He smirks, looking intently at you, clearly curious about your thoughts on the idea. It’s amusing how quickly you could change topics but it was a good try to move on from the somber conversation you just had.

“I don't really wanna have sex with someone I’ll only be sharing fluids with,” you say, blankly. This intrigues him because now, he’s moving closer to you like a kid waiting for his next adventure story.

You laugh at his movement. He tips his head, signaling you to continue.

“It’s just not my thing, that’s all,” you start, trying to find a way to explain yourself.

“I want someone to talk and laugh with when it gets sloppy,” you say, “and someone to make me breakfast when I oversleep. A guy for pure pleasure probably wouldn’t be that person for me. He’d probably just focus on getting both of us off and then up and leave,” you shrug.

This amuses him, even if he chuckles and says “I knew it probably had something to do with food,” and being the Jungkook you’ve come to know these past months, he asks you something that catches you off-guard but at the same time doesn't really surprise you.

“Would I be someone you’d hypothetically hook up with?” He smirks again, excited for your answer.

“No, you’re too good-looking for that,” you say almost instantly and you curse yourself in your head.

“So you mean hypothetically if you were to hook up with someone, he’d have to be unattractive?” He asks, seemingly confused.

“Uh, if it would just be for pure pleasure, yeah… I mean I wouldn’t mind but of course he’d have to be like, hot or something,” like that was common sense. “I’d probably be too drunk to focus on his face and it’d probably be too dark for it to matter anyway,” you shrug. You’re hoping this makes sense to him because your friends never did quite get it.

You just really don’t do hook ups, especially drunk ones, not that you put sex on a pedestal, but you just have a thing for the before and after of it - the gentle fore play, the removing (and not ripping) of clothes, the cuddle and the aftercare that stretches to breakfast or lunch, and the lazy morning sex. Call you hopeless romantic or something, at least this is your version of it, but those were the things you like about sex, the full package.

“Hmm, I feel honored to be too attractive to hypothetically hook up with Y/N Y/L/N,” he says, feeling proud of himself, smiling like a kid who just got a blue ribbon for something superficial. God, the duality and contradictions of this guy, you think.

“Let’s just say… you have a face and a touch I’d hypothetically want to get used to, so I wouldn't settle for just one night with you, and then it wouldn't be a hook-up!” You say trying to sound nonchalant, thinking about the tinylittle crush your friends claim you’ve developed on the guy in front you but really, anyone with a pair of eyes would agree that the man is beautiful (you’d always deflected though - “have you seen King Namjoon? Now that is the man, you’d say).

You settle for honesty though, and it’s true. You just don’t delve on the full package thing, because you know Jungkook is exactly the kind of guy to do all that, but you stop your mind from going there, much so with him sitting in front of you.

“Ah,” he says, pleased with himself. “So you could get used to this, huh?” He teases, lunging on you, his knees just barely resting on your thighs. He’s planting his hands on your face and squishing every surface he possibly could, laughing as he’s doing so while you shout out every cuss word you know and trying your best to hit him with your hands even if he’s just going to block your hits anyway.

You kick him on the thigh when he finishes his rampage but it is you who squeals of pain because you used your right foot, the one you re-injured after playing a tune-up game of volleyball the other day.

Naturally he grabs your foot and starts massaging it, as if he’d always been doing that since you’ve met, which he hasn't. And you haven’t even known each other that long.

“You’re annoying,” is the only thing you could mutter after finally catching your breath. You can’t lie though, his massage is pretty good. You lay your head on your stretched out right leg and can’t help but close your eyes.

He sees the satisfaction on your face and not long after, he quips, “I bet this is also something you could get used to after a good night of fucking, yeah?” he starts laughing.

Since last week’s incident, you’d noticed Jungkook being more comfortable and definitely a little cheekier, flirty, even. Perhaps seeing you in your underwear could do that to a person, you think.

You feel your cheeks heat up, and all you could do is hit his arm continuously so that he had started to flex after a few slaps. You literally were just talking about hook ups, why did you feel so scandalized? (You’re in denial; you know exactly why.)

“Good? That confident with your abilities, I see.” You tease, as both of you have now settled down and kept your body parts to yourselves.

A grin starts creeping from the side of his lips and you immediately regret making such a comment. “Nevermind!” You shout, holding out your hand to cover his mouth before he could say anything again.

“I’m teasing. I wouldn't know, actually. It’s not like I do it often to know, anyway.”

At this you’re pleasantly surprised, not that you expect him to be the kind of pop star who casually and constantly hooks up with women just because he can, but still you know the parties he attends and all the beautiful women in his circle who no doubt wouldn’t mind making a move, or probably already do on a regular basis.

Maybe you’re just startled that he would be open about this particular facet of his life to someone he hasn't known long. But then again, you two have been open to each other about many things since you’ve met, but that’s still something you’re only starting to get used to.

“It doesn't matter,” you say, flashing him the same sincere and thoughtful smile that you put on when he started fixing up your dinner for you earlier. He returns your smile, eyes soft, as if grateful for you not asking any more.

“Well, I mean you’re good at a lot of things anyway so if you suck at that, you could always just sing or dance or impersonate someone and that would overshadow whatever it is you suck at,” you say, winking at him.

He hits you with a pillow.

“I’m not sure if that’s supposed to make me feel better,” he says, “but thank you for complimenting my impersonating skills because I think that’s being undermined by the media.”

You both laugh at the humor.

“Tonight made me feel better, though. Thanks for being here,” you say as you finish your glass of wine.

It’s been hours since he arrived, sleepiness no doubt creeping on the both of you, especially on him who’d spent his day practicing and filming. It’s moments like this that make you happy you met him, that you didn’t freak out or think much when he asked for your number those months ago.

It’s also moments like this that you remind yourself of what you’d lose if you nurture that tinylittle seed of affection that’s growing in your heart, one unwittingly planted there a week ago.

He looks at you softly again, as if there’s more he wants to say but instead he replaces his bunny smile with a gentle one, wrinkles forming at the outer corner of his eyes, cheeks just slightly pushing up to reveal the bags underneath those orbs of his. They glisten under the lighting in your living room.

He lets the silence linger a little longer.

“Anything for you, Y/N.”

You let yourself bask in this thought, in his presence, just for tonight. Saturday You will get over this.

As you lay on your bed that night, you decide it isn’t just your past with your ex that you’ll bury under lock and key. It’s also this.

>> part 1 drabble

series masterlist

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts fic #bts jungkook #idol jungkook

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fireemblems24 · 3 years

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Dimitri's Supports

I have waited FOREVER for this. Let's go. And I decided to put my patience to the test, saving Dedue for last.

Since it's Dimitri and I love him, and like Dedue who I also love, he's the only one unlocking all his A-Supports, I'm going to blog all my reactions to them like I did with Dedue. Part of me wishes I thought of this for the other characters, but honestly it would've taken forever lol. Plus Dimitri and Dedue get special treatment because I said so.

Raphael

Starting off with something light hearted, I hope. I do wonder if I'm going to regret not saving this one for the inevitably heavy-handed stuff coming later.

I'm seriously betting this is a support you're supposed to get in part 1 lol. Dimitri sounds young (or maybe I'm just haven't heard non-growl part 2 Dimitri enough yet?)

Dimitri's training made Raphael think he was dying lol. Dimitri's strength is really meme tier.

I need fanart of Dimitri and Chrom co-miserating their mishandled strength breaking something. And Lucina.

Lamo, Raphael has never felt a cramp before. Lucky bastard.

Raphael is a sweetie, going to apologize to his muscles. I really wish they gave him something else to talk about other than muscles and food. Not everyone needs Dimitri tier development, but I think I'd like Raphael a lot more if he just got a smidge more depth.

Got to say, it's a bit jarring to go from "moments away from a suicide charge in the rain" to "lol, Raphael, it's muscle pain." As glad as I am that I got this support, I do think some should've been locked to part 1.

And this isn't just for Dimitri's development. I also saw Marianne and Raphael's B before this support and she reverted back to her part 1 self too.

Catherine

Maybe it's just me, but he does sound a bit older.

OMG - Dimitri's back. 😭😭😭

Sorry, it didn't really hit in that first one since that seemed like a part 1 support.

Oh, cool! I was wondering if anyone would bring up Catherine returning to Faerghus. My bets is she's too loyal to Rhea. (I guessed right)

Catherine be simpin. That's ok, I get it.

So it's not because Catherine dislikes Dimitri, or that she's absolutely needed to rule House Charon, so I think Dimitri just likes her. She's cool though. I get it.

Lamo, she told him he'd better get his sleep like he's a kid.

Curious how the A+ support will play out.

Mercedes

Team Mom's support!

Oh, no, this one's taking a serious turn isn't it? But their initial supports were so light and cute.

Mercedes just told Dimitri that he's kind to a fault. Somehow I know he's going to deny that.

Annnnnd I'm right 😭😭😭He's still calling himself a killer and disgusting monster 😭😭😭

OK - so THIS seems perfectly in tone with his recent character development. But it's so sad hearing him still talk about himself that way.

Mercedes is such a therapist. I can't. She's too pure. But savage. I saw that Lorenz support.

"I am scared . . . so scared that I will forget their faces." 😭😭😭😭😭😭 Dimitri why????

Mercedes telling Dimitri to live in the present. Her supports are always so good. I legit think she's easily a top 10 favorite in this game.

Wow, Dimitri saying if someone told him that 5 years ago, he'd be different. DID NO ONE EVER GIVE HIM ANY HELP AT ALL???

I love how she's talking to him as a classmate, and equal, and not talking up to him. He's always wanted that.

Dimitri's never given his own dreams any thought 😭😭😭He really was just 100% living for other people most of the time. 😭😭😭

Awww MERCEDES, I can't. She says she just wants to keep being his friend. This is so damn sweet. And heavy. But still sweet.

It just hits super hard knowing how badly Dimitri just wanted friends in part 1. And looking back, Mercedes and Sylvain were really the only two who were pretty casual with him.

Aww, yeah, Mercedes not putting up with the bullshit, Dimitri. Telling him to quit the self-deprecation! God, I love her.

Oh, God, they both said the old FE code for "we're married" i.e. I want to "stay by your side."

Ok, @garlandgerard, I totally get why you ship this. Mercedes loves to nurture people, and Dimitri's emotionally needy, so they match pretty well. She also didn't put up with the constant self-put-downs, but stayed gentle about it. And they talked like equals too, like friends, which is what Dimitri always wanted. It's all very sweet.

Annette

Yeah, see, this one starts off with "your highness," but Mercedes it was just Dimitri. No hate for Annette. She's my girl.

These two always give me sibling vibes.

Haha, Annette "I thought I already knew you, but I'm not sure I really do." Hmmmm wonder what Dimitri did that made her think that maybe there's parts of him she didn't know. No. idea.

Hey, Annette, no one blames you for not knowing what to say to Dimitri when they reunited lol.

Annette too pure too, wanting to cheer Dimitri up with his favorite food.

Her not knowing what he likes to eat is 100% that moment when you realize you don't know someone's favorite color.

HOW can Dimitri have no strong feelings about food. I'm having pizza right now. Let me tell you, I have strong feelings about some food.

I love how easily Dimitri deflected from talking about himself lol.

Awwww, Annette wants to live with her family again. I'll make that happen, Annette. Don't worry.

Haha, they're conspiring together behind Gilbert's back.

They still have an A+ support, which is weird, because that seemed pretty well ended? Like I see why Catherine's needed more, but not this one. Still, not going to say no. I like their dynamic.

Ingrid

OCF they're training. God I love all the Faerghus childhood group though.

Oh, fuck, here comes Glenn again. My heart's not ready for this with Rodrigue dead. Poor Felix.

Ingrid being Dimitri's knight 😊😊😊 as it should be.

Haha, Dimitri asks her for an interpretation. Just make her your knight.

Glad he hasn't started saying "I'm not worthy!" Because right now it's about Ingrid's feelings.

Wow, there, Ingrid. "However you please, Your Highness." That . . . that sounds like an invitation. To "staying by your side."

Dimitri laughed. 😊😊😊

Oh, God, this is so cute. His pause asking her to support and defend him as his knight. 😊😊😊 OMG. I'm not sure that's all she had in mind though, good Sir, have you LOOKED in the mirror?

Seriously though, Ingrid's just surrounded by studs, isn't she?

Oh, God, I'm right. She didn't just mean knight. But Dimitri's too dense in that area to notice. She crushing hard. Girl, I get you.

She blushing, saying "for the Kingdom," naw, she just like him. Me too, Ingrid. Me too.

Dimitri always makes people promise not to die on him. It's so sad considering . . .

Flayn

With Flayn it's always a toss up. Sometimes things are super light hearted, and other times it's way heavy.

On a random note, does no one wonder why Flayn hasn't aged a day in 5 years?

Flayn having nightmares. Not allowed. I bet it's fucking Jeritza's fault. I'm glad you get to rip him a new one so many times in this game.

Why is Flayn apologizing?? She's never done a thing wrong in her life.

Right, Flayn's other support with Dimitri was pretty heavy. And it started so funny with him stomaching her food.

Oh, good grief, what's he apologizing for? Ok - so Dimitri did do some things wrong. But not to Flayn.

He lied. Let me guess. Her food actually sucks.

Aw, got it. He went right to the meal. Is he really going to come out and say, well it actually sucked 😂

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

WHAT ABOUT ALL THOSE MEALS???? AND THE TEA an embarrassing amount of tea.

Wait. He can't taste ANYTHING??? Like. How? Did he hide that????

Ok - I need to look at his team and dining dialogue.

OMG. He really never says a word about how anything tastes? He always just talks about smells????

OMG. How did I NOT NOTICE. I've taken Dimitri to dinner a million times. And tea timed him too many times to admit too.

AND I NEVER NOTICED HE NEVER ONCE SAID HOW ANYTHING TASTED. HOW.

OMG that support with Annette hits different now 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

OMG and Dedue's support with Flayn hits different now. Since he wanted to badly to find food Dimitri loves 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Does Dedue know? Is that why he's so dedicated to cooking??

Can I headcannon that?

OMG, I feel so awful about that jab about pizza. Dimitri CAN'T TASTE pizza or anything 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Please someone tell me there isn't any more "this awful thing also happened to Dimitri and he's failed to tell you" like learning he almost fucking died at Duscur. And now this. Dimitri needs to learn how to fucking complain.

The writers are so fucking mean to Dimitri. OMG. OMG, how am I supposed to take him to dinner and tea now, knowing this?

Why does everything hit so differently now? And so many Blue Lions supports are about food - but Dimitri can't relate

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

This game needs to stop bullying Dimitri.

But like, God, can you imagine? Not tasting anything? I'd starve. I'd actually starve. I never really get hungry. I really would starve.

On the flip side, he's good for Flayn then, since someone can eat her cooking I guess.

"I was just saying what I thought you would want to hear . . ." Dimitri - a summary.

Naw, that's a kind lie. That kind of lie doesn't really hurt anyone.

Oh - dear God. Flayn. Stop. No sampling pungent food.

Oh, she blushing. Dimitri got her blushing

Please tell me in their paired ending Dimitri gets his taste back.

Oh, there's an A+, does he taste something. Please tell me he tastes something.

This support though. It wasn't really one on my radar but

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Gilbert

Oh, man, this one right after Flayn's. God, I'm going to need the Alois one after this. Gilbert and Dimitri are two of the most somber characters in the franchise.

And I haven't forgotten that heartbreaking B support.

Haha Lambert sucked at lying too. Dimitri too pure. Weirdly, despite everything, it's still pretty true.

Oh, shit, oh shit, we're back to Dimitri's demand that Gilbert kill him. I'm betting you usually get that in part 2.

God, imagine seeing Dimitri recover only to see him beg for death again 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I need alcohol.

I need the Alois support.

OMG, shit, Dimitri. No. Don't. Stop.

Like, I know Gilbert won't really kill him, but damn. This support is heavy.

No, Dimitri, no Gilbert is not cruel for not killing you. God.

Oh, not sure about this. I get what Gilbert's going at here, but telling Dimitri that he's not allowed to die because he's got a duty is . . . I think Rodrigue's and Mercedes' live for what you want/the present is a LOT healthier.

At the same time, this is a pretty effective way to make sure Dimitri won't go and try this again, because he really takes duty seriously.

Dimitri doesn't wish to die? 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Oh, thank God.

"Many times I have felt that I cannot afford to die . . . But this was the first time I truly feared the prospect." 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"Is it really right for me to live?" Oh, dear God. I'm so soft for Dimitri. I can't.

Gilbert answered that one right. 100%.

Damn, these supports.

Alois

OK. I need this one. I really need this one.

I really hope Alois' inspiration is bad puns. I need bad puns right now.

Pretty sure this is a part 1 support though. I love how Alois, not Dimitri, is leading this. And that the person the Kingdom NEEDS is running around and getting attacked by monsters lol

Ok, bad puns. Bring them.

There we go. Thank you, thank you, Alois.

OMG no one's laughing 😂😂😂

Dimitri's laughing 😭😭😭😭😭😭

That's it. This is always getting saved for part 2. I need to hear part 2 Dimitri laugh.

I'm also so glad someone finds Alois funny. Dimitri and Petra need to start a club.

OMG I love the two other confused soldiers. I needed this 😂😂😂

Marianne

These two were so sweet in their C and B supports.

I swear I'm going to end up shipping Dimitri with everyone. Except maybe Annette, no hate, they just seem so much like brother and sister to me.

And Felix x Annette 100%

Survivor's Guilt - the pairing. Both wondering why they survived 😭😭😭

"There are so many others who are much more deserving of life . . ." - who said it? Marianne or Dimitri?

These two just understand how each other feels so well. It hits so different compared to Marianne's other romantic possible supports where they just try to make her smile.

Instead these two take comfort in finding someone who understands how they feel so well and feel relieved they can share that with someone.

Haha - "I must go on living. I cannot give in to death so readily." This coming right after his support with Gilbert. Good job, Gilbert.

They've both had it so rough 😭😭😭😭😭😭

"There is no need to force yourself to smile as your soul bleeds." Dimitri always gives such good advice that he never follows.

Aww, now at least it's getting cute instead of just heavy. Marianne laughed too 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Yesss, Girl, preach. I got a little sick of her other supports all being "cheer up!" Like I know it's all in good faith, but I'm so glad this chain exists. It just hits different.

Dimitri doesn't think he's strong enough to live his life. 😭😭😭 this game. I swear.

ohhhh - ohhh, Dimitri blushing now. And all she needed to say was they've been brought closer together. Congrats Marianne!

OHHHH tables have been turned. Now someone's making Dimitri promise he needs to live!

"I don't know what I'd do with myself if we lost you . . ."

"I promise to the goddess of Fodlan that I will never give you cause for despair."

OMG these two are being so sweet, I can't. 😭😭😭😊😊😊

Felix

Oh, boy, here we go. This should be . . . interesting.

Oh, we're starting off good I see. Felix telling Dimitri he needs to answer quickly or get cut in half 😔Felix. No.

Dimitri sounds so somber 😭

Dimitri admitting both are him - the vengeful "boar" and the friendly good person. And this is why I love him.

Dimitri feels the need to shoulder all the regret the dead feel, please don't. They wouldn't want that 😭😭😭😭😭

"The dead won't acknowledge your loyalty, they don't care." - Felix not wrong there.

I partly agree with the idea Dimitri is "serving his own ego" by claiming he's acting for the dead. I think it's a bit more complicated than that, but I think that's part of it.

Felix saying some good stuff here about the dead being dead and the living being living.

"If you keep stringing gravestones around your neck, you'll snap." - Felix, I don't know if you noticed but . . . uh . . . he sort of did.

Felix telling Dimitri to become a grave keeper is a bit funny. Not going to lie.

"I'm not immune to emotion you know." - just tsunderes things

Aw, Felix is upset his father died 😭😭 after all that shit-talking about Rodrigue 😭😭

Wish Felix didn't cut Dimitri off when he said "more than anyone you-" (care about other people, unless he joins CF and just kills everyone)

Oh, God, Felix is such a tsundere. "I couldn't stand the pathetic look on your face. That's all." Sure, Felix.

Kinda wish these two had an A+ though. Seems like there's more to do than the A+ with Annette and Flayn.

Really curious to see what their paired ending is like after that. Seems they're still learning to learn about each other. Well, Felix is. Dimitri didn't seem too upset lol.

Dedue

Ok guys. Here we go. I can't believe I managed to wait for this for last. Everyone hyped this one, so let's hope.

Really? We open with Dimitri having scars on his back? 😭

From 9 years ago? So scars from Duscur then?

Images of shirtless Dimitri now. though Not bad images.

He got scars protecting Dedue?

"It makes me think that is was worthwhile that someone like me survived." 😭😭😭 he's talking about protecting Dedue? 😭😭😭

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"But I saved someone - saved you. That and that alone has been my crutch." 😭😭😭😭😭

I always knew these two were co-dependent.

Dimitri really out here saying that saving Dedue helped him "justify" surviving. 😭😭😭😊😊😊

OMG THAT'S THEIR STORY

OMG, poor Dedue. And Dimitri 😭😭😭did he literally "take a bullet" to save Dedue 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 and still has scars? No wonder Dedue's so loyal. Some kid he didn't know did that. That's one hell of an introduction.

And picturing little Dedue just resigned and angry and waiting to die and just 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Oh, Dedue, you've repaid that debt ten-fold I'm sure.

Ahaha, Dimitri's doing the "you'd better accept your worth!" discussion this time lol.

Dear God these two. Now Dimitri's bringing up that Dedue busted him out of the jail.

I swear, these two have more of a plot off screen than some routes do on screen.

And now picturing Dimitri resigned and just ready to die. And then Dedue busts in. 😭😭😭

"That was nothing more than my duty as your vassal." Stop that Dedue. Dimitri doesn't want you to be his vassal. He wants more.

Holy shit.

"You are irreplaceable. Cherished." 😭😭😭😊😊😊😭😭😭😊😊😊😭😭😭😊😊😊😭😭😭😊😊😊

Not to be that person - but I tell all my "friends" that.

Yes, Dedue, stop saying insisting you're just a "vassal" - that's a worse joke than Alois' puns from earlier.

"Please . . . do not look at me that way." What way, like you're about to make Dimitri cry, or like . . .

"You promised me you would build a Kingdom that is proud to boast of Duscur blood." - shit, man, these two. I just . . .

OMG so much emotion from Dedue. The only time I ever heard that before was in VW when he learned Dimitri died. But let's not remember that right now 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Oh shit. He called him "Dimitri." 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

And it made him blush.

OMG.

Guys, these two.

Aww, Dimitri looks so surprised. 😊😊😊😊😊😊

Oh, these two are so soft for each other. I can't. I just can't.

"To be your friend . . . is what I have always wanted." You're going to get it.

Man, I feel almost guilty S-Supporting Dimitri. He needs to pair up with Dedue pronto.

Dimitri sounds chocked up. OMG.

"So please call upon me when you walk alone at night." Ok. Dedue. Ok. Yes. Guys. This is all very straight.

I'm not saying it's - you know - cannon, but there's some big feels here.

Oh, Dimitri, stop it. You like Dedue's overprotectiveness. Don't lie.

Man, you guys were so right. Dimitri really just came out and said Dedue was "cherished" and "irreplaceable." Like, I'm not making this stuff up. And Dedue blushing hardcore just saying Dimitri's name.

They're both just so soft. I can't. I literally cannot. This support was gold. It was worth all they hype.

And learning more about how they meant. Dimitri really taking a bullet for Dedue there. I just . . .

I just want all the happiness for both of them. They're really something special towards each other. Like I legitimately think this is one of the most two-way loyal relationships in the whole franchise, and definitely the tightest bond in this game.

Like in past games you had Seth for Ephraim and Erikia and Soren for Ike and it's not like Ike, Ephraim and Erikia and etc don't care, but it wasn't the same level, you know? But this is such a two way street.

And I'm so weak for bodyguard with a crush. Like Seth/Eirika? Yes. Geoffrey/Elincia? 100%. Riza/Roy (Fullmetal Alchemist) there again. I'm sure there's more, but those are my top ones. Even Merlin/Arthur sort of counts even if Arthur doesn't know Merlin's his bodyguard lol.

I need to read fanfic for these two. I really don't want to spoil anything, but I'm dying. They're both just so sweet, and I just really love their dynamic. I really want to do a write up on it once I get to the end of the game.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimitri fire emblem #fe3h #fe16

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bansept · 3 years

Text

Ichihime Week | Day 1: Flowers

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ichigo scratched his head, his thoughts running wild in his head as he stared at the internet research. Once upon a time, he fell in love, started to date the woman who loved him back and all was well in the most beautiful of many worlds. Honestly, everything with Orihime, now that they were officially together, was marvelous. Waking up, while it was fastidious before, was oh so sweet now. Going to his work, taking a meal, hell, even walking in the streets was a source of unlimited happiness if his beautiful girlfriend was by his side.

Not everything was all shiny and butterflies though: with some occasional “fights” between them, and moments of silence that go with the dating experience, Ichigo was always left feeling guilty. Everyone assumed it was for no reason, since it was normal to chew a bone occasionally. But then, the same people had not been the greatest of help finding the perfect way to reveal his feelings for the auburn beauty, and the young man had to it alone, so, he’d rather not listen to unexperienced dead souls.

A few days ago, Ichigo had been a dick. An unpleasant one. After a long day of listening to nonsense sputtered by tiny kids, who did not want to obey the requests of “an orange top man” and stretch properly otherwise they would be in pain, having the same remarks from an older sensei about his lack of smile and being drenched to the bone because of sudden rain, Ichigo had been exhausted. So much he had grumbled at Orihime, and made her feel like she was bothering him by welcoming him with open arms when, quite exactly, it was the opposite. But, of course, with his greatest weapon – grumpiness – he had managed to push her away, shut this enlightening smile of hers. She had forgiven him later, shrugging it off as “it’s just a bad day, it happens from time to time”.

So now, ashamed of his behavior, feeling unworthy to even look at her without a proper apology, he was asking to google what to do. A few ideas popped in his mind, but one can never be too sure about them.

Flowers. They could mean someone carrying their courage and revealing the truth about their feelings. They could mean an apology, a vibrant “I’m sorry” as well as a desire to remain close. Very good.

It was stormy outside, once again. This time equipped with a large umbrella, Ichigo walked to the ABCookies bakery, frowning at how utterly impossible it was to hide the bouquet of bright white and soft orange flowers with the green herbs surrounding them. People glanced at him, mumbling about how he was either trying to be forgiven for something or trying to have a good night. He ignored them, stopping at the corner of the shop.

Deep breaths. He could do it. He had to. Orihime would forgive him for almost anything, because she loved him deeply, but he would man up and truly deserve forgiveness.

The door opened with the sound of a light bell, right above the door, and Orihime was not to be seen behind the counter. Ichigo frowned, the other worker stopping in his tracks to stare at a tall, orange-haired and clearly confused man.

“Can… I help you with anything?”

Ah. So that guy in the work clothes was obviously new. Great. Ichigo walked closer to the desk, the sound of his shoes in the silent room making it look like he was ready to fight someone.

“Could you tell me where Orihime Inoue is? I have to talk to her.” He requested, nicely and politely.

The man, shorter than him, obviously sporting fewer muscles, looked him up and down, then at the flowers, then at his face.

“Who’s asking her? I’m pretty sure those flowers won’t make you have a date with her.” He questioned, crossing his arms over his chest to look scary, Ichigo guessed.

That little… The Substitute Shinigami breathed in deeply, opening his eyes wider to not yell at the young man, who was probably just doing his job and protecting his co-worker from, maybe, yet another dude asking Orihime for something…

“I’m her boyfriend. Could you please tell her that Ichigo is here? It’s rather important.”

The man behind the counter squinted his eyes at Ichigo, not trusting him, but still going to the back to ask for Hisayo, the “boss” of the co-workers, eldest and responsible of the shop. Who knew Ichigo and shook her head when she saw him standing there like an idiot.

“Yeah, Hiro, he’s right. Orihime and he are dating. Let him through next time, otherwise he’ll scare the clients away.” She chuckled, but her face was unamused, remembering how complicated it had been to convince everyone that no, he wasn’t from a gang and yes, her clients were safe, a few months ago.

The orange-haired man nodded at her and walked at the back of the bakery, in the resting room. There, he saw Orihime enjoying a little snack she had made in the morning, licking her fingers to not waste a drop of wasabi and red bean paste.

“Hime…” He talked, surprising her and making her face him, face full of food. Ichigo tried not to laugh at the spectacle, walking up to her and lowering himself down, crouching to meet her incredulous eyes.

“Ichigo? What are you doing here? I’m supposed to get back to work in 5 minutes…” She wondered, raising her hand to touch his hair and caress it.

“I know, I’m sorry I’m perturbing your time off. But… Listen, I’m so sorry for snapping at you the other day. I was tired, drenched and pissed off, and while none of that excuses my behavior, it still is what happened. Because of my bad mood, I downgraded yours too. Made you feel bad… Which I swore never to.”

He placed the flowers in front of him, right under her nose for her to smell, and her eyes widened again, mouth gaping.

“Ichigo… Really, it’s fine! I told you I understood that you were in a pissy mood the other day. You didn’t need to buy those…” She tried to refuse them, but her eyes had left him to stare intently at the tiny blossoms of white anemones, dahlias and soft orange geraniums. Her boyfriend really was… so many things, from sweet, kind to caring and atrociously scared of hurting her feelings. She needed to reassure him, tell him all was fine.

The young man in front of her watched as she accepted the bouquet with a hand and taking his in her left hand, intertwining their fingers together.

“I know I might be overdoing it… But everyone and everywhere, people say that one tiny thing can ruin a relationship if it’s not tended to, so I want to apologize for every time I’m a dick to you. I… Don’t want to lose you because of my bad temper.” He admitted, blush on his cheeks as if he was mortified to admit this out loud.

Orihime smiled gently, sniffing the flowers for a bit before lowering the bouquet on the table, far from her leftovers, to take Ichigo’s face in her hands, kissing him on the cheek.

“You won’t lose me because you grumbled. Or because you don’t talk to me for an hour. Or something close to that. I’ve known you for years and years, and that behavior is part of who you are, and I love it as much as I love your eyes, your hair or your hands. It’s part of you, and I would be a terrible person to ask you to change that. So… Everything is fine.”

Her eyes were shining like two gems, tiny droplets shaking in them as he nodded his head, hugging her close.

As the two enjoyed their time together, the feeling of being understood and cared for, the other workers left them have their sweet moment together. Ichigo thought, with a smile, he had done a good job bringing flowers with him, if Orihime’s attempts to touch them over and over again was a sign to take into account.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, well, well. Here it is! Day one of IH week 2021!

I decided to pick “flowers” because I wanted to write something cute but realistic. I think a lot about the thoughts and little scary moments Ichigo can imagine in his big head about his girlfriend, and how insecure that might make him. He might be Soul Society’s savior, he’s still a human boy that never got any kind of indication on how to act around women his age, and certainly not around his own girlfriend.

Flowers can be something cute, romantic, erotic, sad, desperate and so many more things. I decided to go with the meaning of the three flowers I chose: anemones, dahlias and geraniums. Go look them up on internet lol

Thank you for reading this! See you tomorrow for Day 2 hehe

#bleach #ichihime #ihweek2021 #ichigo kurosaki #orihime inoue #ichigo x orihime

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years

Text

Let’s Talk: Jimin’s & Tae’s confessions (RUN Episode 141)

by Admin 1

Originally, I planned on writing a summary or vmin cut of the RUN episode but then I transcribed Jimin’s and Tae’s confessions and it got me thinking, and now here we are. Instead of a summary here are some of my musings and thoughts about their confessions and how they are right in line with things they’ve said in the past, and even quite recently, as well as how it fits with something Namjoon said in 2020 about them as well. I hope this will at least be somewhat interesting.

So, first, let’s look at Jimin’s confession, since this is longer and was first in the episode:

Jimin’s Confession

Jimin: Sometimes I am blunt. I’m like that at times.

Na PD: Taehyung, has Jimin ever said anything bluntly to you?

Tae: Nowadays, he's really putting in effort to fix that to the point where it rarely happens anymore. Jimin tends to be very hard on himself, which also broke our hearts to see.

Na PD: So, he gets stressed from himself, then gets mad at himself...

Tae: Then gets mad at himself.

Na PD: ...and then he blurts remarks.

(here it was a bit unclear (for me at least) which of the two said which line so I’m sorry if I mixed them up)

Jimin: It’s something I want to be forgiven for.

Tae: But Jiminie being blunt and me being blunt is completely different. Jimin has a kind hearted nature on the regular.

Na PD: Right.

Jimin: Are you usually not like that?

Tae: I’m, well...

The other members stop Tae, since it’s not time for his confession, and instead the question is posed by JK if they forgive Jimin to which everyone says yes.

Tae: You’re innately kind at heart. stretches out hand for handshake.

Jimin: Thank you. Jimin thinks (?) Tae might be going for a fist bump since he gives him his fist instead, which Tae still takes and shakes.

The first thing about this that caught my attention, as well as one of our anons, was the fact that instead of choosing literally any of the other members, Na PD turned to Tae and asked him to verify if something like that (as in Jimin being blunt) ever happened toward him. You could say we’re thinking too much here, interpreting too much into it, and yet it doesn’t change the fact that he chose to ask Tae. Of course it could be because he said at the start of the program that he feels closest to Tae since he heard about him from two of his Wooga squad friends, but it might’ve just as well been because he watched the members for a while already at that point (since they’d already been filming a few hours) and perhaps he did notice how Tae and Jimin naturally gravitate toward each other, have this special bond? Other people who worked with them in the past noticed it, so why wouldn’t he?

There’s actually moment where Jimin turns and says Taehyungie like he wants to ask him something or say something to him which isn’t in the subs and the members don’t notice it either so Jimin never got to actually say whatever he wanted to say. Also, we’ve all seen how Tae and Jimin behaved during the game in the previous episode, how happy, smiley and giggly they were while being silly together.

Then the actual confession itself, Jimin saying that he can be blunt at times, toward others but also especially toward himself. We’ve heard many times from Jimin about how much of a perfectionist he is, how he can get mad at himself for mistakes, how he sometimes speaks without thinking which can end up a bit mean/blunt, and now he’d like to be forgiven for it.

This actually reminded me of something he said to Tae before:

FESTA 2020 from 42:56 min onward (context - the question was: have you felt disappointed in or sorry to the member to your right?):

Jimin: For Taehyung I should say if I compare those two feelings to him I was more hurt than sorry. Over time, it was reversed. Now I don’t feel slighted. I’m more sorry about things. Back then we were buddies so we had a lot of disagreements or didn’t admit that we were wrong. So I felt disappointed about little things. Now he listens to me well so I feel sorry that I talked to him harshly and every little thing.

The last line especially sticks out to me. I know there’s some language nuance here that got lost in translation which wisha mentioned when the FESTA 2020 video was posted (but is now gone since her twt was suspended), and yet it doesn’t change that fact that it fits with Jimin’s confession, how he was harsh to Tae in the past but now feels sorry for it, and with what Tae said, that Jimin is now making an effort to fix that behavior, to not be so blunt/harsh anymore.

It’s so interesting to me to see these mentions of what could be seen as character flaws over the years, things that make them inherently human. Also it fits with what we know about the evolution of vmin, how they used to have disagreements, have issues with proper communication but over time worked on it, got better at it to the point where they can now understand each other by just looking into each other’s eyes, and Tae’s words about Jimin, how he’s an angel, the warmest person he ever met, and now how he has a kind hearted nature, therefore the bluntness is not taking away from it in any way.

There was also something about this in Jimin’s solo RollingStone interview which caught my attention:

(btw, if you haven’t yet, I highly recommend reading the main and solo RollingStone interviews because they are really, really good!)

Taehyung’s confession

Tae: Compared to the other members, I’m very lazy. Once I’ve set my mind on something, to get that into action, it takes me up to 2 months. I’m start working out, then quit. I’ve quit projects midway too. I’m the type where if I’m not feeling it, I don’t do it. There are times when I feel sorry to the members.

Someone (I can’t pinpoint the voice): How would be summarize this?

Jimin: You’d usually call this as “irresponsible”. He lacks responsibility,

Tae: I’m still an amateur.

Na PD: “I lack responsibility and am lazy”. Is that how we can understand it?

Tae: Yes.

Jimin: To be honest, we don’t think it’s to that extent, but if that’s what he feels... we forgive him.

Something I love about what Jimin said (in far fewer words than I will use because you know me, I can’t keep myself short) is that he essentially did two things at once, being: he assured Tae (and the viewers) that him and the members think differently, don’t see it as severely as Tae does himself, and then he also acknowledged the validity of Tae’s words, that even if Jimin doesn’t agree with him, Jimin knows that those feelings are still valid, that that’s what Tae feels and that, at the end of the day, even if the members don’t agree, they can’t change Tae’s mind, can’t force him into seeing things differently. The only person who can do that is Tae himself, and that’s okay. Jimin and the other members will still quietly support and reassure him when needed until he’ll “fix” this weakness, if that is something he wants to do.

This really shows how in tune with Tae Jimin is, but also how emotionally intelligent he is. Beautiful. Also, notice how Jimin said that without being asked to do so, which will come into play again a little later in this post and why I point it out specifically again.

Listening (or rather reading along) as Tae said that, it reminded me of something he said a few months ago:

Taehyung BE-hind Story Interview from 5:49 min onward:

Q: How do you cope when it’s hard to work/with these situations?

Tae: I’m very true to my emotions so uh...if I can’t write the songs or can’t come up with a title I just don’t. Like now!

Yoongi: That’s actually the best way.

Tae: I just don’t write it like how I’m doing it now, and I don’t want to be pressured to create something against my will.

Yoongi: It’s not like you have to finish a song within a day or two?

Tae: Right! So I’ve been taking some rest for about four months now. Now that I’m resting for four months...

Yoongi: Wasn’t your mixtape supposed to be out last year?

Tae: The mixtape that was supposed to happen last year was postponed. I should be in a state full of emotions right now, but I haven’t reached it yet. It’s like...my first mixtape so I want to feel that satisfaction when I release it whenever that time will be.

Yoongi: That’s why you have to finish the whole thing while you’re at it...

Tae: Yes.

Yoongi: ...or else it takes too long to finish it. So, you have to finish it within that period.

Tae: Right.

Yoongi: I’m guessing you might’ve missed the time.

The thing though is that what Tae said, that if he doesn’t feel it, he won’t do it/finish it, that just shows how much of an artist he is, how much his art truly matters to him, and how important it is to him that his art, in this case his music, turns out just the way he wants it to or else he won’t finish it or release it. And while Tae might call this “irresponsible”, I don’t think it’s that in this case, or that it’s a sign of laziness either, though just like Jimin, I don’t want to invalidate his feelings either. All I want to bring across is how in the context of his music, this isn’t a weakness or flaw, even if it might seem like it, especially in their line of work with deadlines, schedules and plans made weeks and months in advance where, usually, you can’t just take a four month break.

So, in that regard, I can understand how it can feel like a flaw to him, make him feel guilty about it and sorry to the members who in this case might rely on him to get something done on time and he might not do it, or not without forcing himself to do it or being dissatisfied, you know what I mean?

Earlier today Tae was on weverse and answered a few questions about his mixtape (though I have a feeling it really is time for ARMY to stop asking him about it and just let him breath) where he said that even though he got a song from someone and made ten himself, even with that break he took according to his BE interview, the songs just aren’t what he wanted them to be and thus he decided to start again.

Some could say it’s again a case of him being irresponsible the way he characterized it during the RUN episode, that even though he said last year he was almost done and would release it soon it ended up being postponed and now he started over again, but once again I think it just shows how very important his music is to him, and therefore I’d actually call it a strength. It shows how valuable his artistic expression is to him, to create music the way he wants to, at his own pace, and only release it once he feels it’s right.

One more thing, just like I said in the intro of this post, Jimin and Tae jumping in to assure the other, reminded me of something Namjoon said during his Map of the Soul : 7 vlive last year:

The context is a little different, but I think it’s still valid here as well, how Tae and Jimin made excuses for each other, how Tae immediately softened how harsh Jimin’s own words about himself might come across, assured both us and Jimin that really he has a kind heart despite this weakness, and then also Jimin by saying that things aren’t as bad as Tae makes them seem either. It’s interesting to really see something play out in a manner similar to what another member said about them based on having been with Jimin and Tae for the last nearly ten years.

Whoever claims that BTS just play out concepts or “plots” and characters given to them by the company really should just take a seat and stop. I mean, sure they all have a sort of persona they embody in front of the camera, at least to a certain degree, they’ve spoken about that numerous times, but they are still humans with flaws and their own dynamics between each other away from the cameras which, logically, also come across on camera as well, not always but enough for us to pick up on it. And in this case, with these confessions during RUN, we saw something that we previously only really heard about happen right in front of us proving (not that they have to prove anything to us, of course, we should simply trust them and what they tell us) that it really is that way.

Here’s the anon I mentioned earlier:

From anon: It might just be me lol but I think rather than Jimin forgetting he's being filmed for a show (with all those members of staff as onlookers as well) and blowing a kiss at Tae / blowing on Tae's chest, he probably just noticed a tiny bit of lint or fluff on Tae's cardigan or mic and decided to blow it off... Of course, if that was the case, that still reveals their high level of intimacy and the fact that even when interacting infront of strangers they seem to be unable to stop showing exactly how tuned into each other they are... I don't think it's a coincidence that Na PD chose to ask Tae, of all the members, to verify Jimin's statement about his flaw. He was probably observing them all day and noticed how particularly close they were, even amongst all the extremely close members.

#vmin #Jimin #Taehyung #BTS #BTS RUN episode 141

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lovenhlboys · 3 years

Text

From a Distance (E.Pettersson X Reader)

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Tag list form

A/n: hello peoples!! I’m so excited to FINALLY post the first chapter of this fic!!! I’ve been working on it for a long time, and after a few unpleasant delays, it’s finally happening 😁. While this isn’t my first fic, this is my first NHL fic, and the first fic I’m posting on Tumblr, so I’m a little nervous. This first chapter is mostly the set up to the main story, this is reader’s side of things with a flashback story. Chapter two will be mostly from Elias’s point of view. The rest of the chapters will switch back and fourth between the two.

CREDIT: Finally, before we get started I have to shout out my proofreaders. Y’all put up with me and my insanity: @siriushxney @iateyourdonuts @petey-patty @hufflepuff-girlx @cherrylita @immmbabyyygraceee @💕💕And specifically @imagines-r-s ASH!!! Babes, you have been the best and most supportive friend I could’ve asked for during this. You boosted my confidence about this fic and I have no idea what I’d do without you 😁😁

Without further ado, let’s get started shall we!! (Sorry for the long A/N, it’ll only be for this first chapter)

Paring: Elias Pettersson X Fem!Reader

Warnings: lots of cursing, friends with benefits but like...just cuddling???, references to iCarly, mentions of One Tree Hill.

Genere: enemies-ish —>friends —> lovers

Legend: (i suggest having these ready before you read)

Y/C/N/N= your cute nick name, only Markstrom calls you it (you’ll see why) this can be either a pet name you like, or a nick name you already have.

Y/N/N= your nick name, Brock, Quinn, and a few others call you this, it’s more of a playful name. Again, this can be a nickname you already have (if you don’t have one I suggest something stupid (sounds like something Stech or Brock would come up with)

Y/N= this is your first name, only Elias calls you this unless it’s a serious situation, or you’re in trouble, or Brock is being an ass. (If it wasn’t clear before...your last name is Boeser)

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: you have a hardcore crush on your brothers best friend, who also happens to barely speak to you...it’s a slight predicament.

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(This is set in the 2021 season, however, because of my denial, Marky and Stech are still in Vancouver and were never traded... also no Covid. however the season was still delayed just to make it easier to follow.)

Present (Feb. 2021)

You’ve always been best friends with your older brother, you never had any real issues when you were younger and you were inseparable. So much so in fact, that once you graduated early a little less than two years ago (June 2019), he asked you to move to Vancouver and live with him. He was always so protective of you and you appreciated everything he has done in your life. One of the best parts about Brock being your older brother was the people he introduced to you. You aren’t very social and god knows how much of a people person your brother is. Once you had moved in, Brock quickly introduced you to the team. And with your double major in Statistics: Data Sciences and Sports Management, you were able to secure a job with the team. Quickly, you found yourself with a second family, one with many members.

Quinn Hughes is your best friend. when you met him about a year and a half ago, you hit it off immediately. With both of you being the same age and not very social, there was an obvious connection there. When Brock and The boys go out, it is you and Quinn who stay in and watch shows on the couch (your favorite being New Girl). Huggy Bear is so sweet and you tell him EVERYTHING, even things you’d never tell your brother. You are still thanking the draft lottery every day that the Canucks received the 7th overall pick that gave you your bestie.

Thatcher Demko AKA Dems AKA Thatch AKA baby goalie is the sweetest and most hilarious guy you know. He is always looking after you just like Brock, but he is also one of the most annoying guys you know. When you’d first met you had the biggest crush on him. You told Quinn as much and he gave you so much shit for it. That crush was short-lived though, once you found out how obnoxious he could be. You still love him, just as a friend. Though Quinn never forgets to remind you of the crush that once was.

Bo Horvat is like another big brother to you. Sure you have Brock, but he’s your best friend. Bo, however, is the person you go to when you needed advice. Holly is one of the only WAGs you’ve become close with. She and you consistently have wine and gossip nights, of which Quinn is sometimes in attendance. Plus, you and Quinn are an amazing babysitting team for Gunnar if you have anything to say about it.

Troy Stecher is the annoying older brother you never had. He always makes fun of you, calls you names, and bullies you in the loving way brothers do. And he never hesitates to come to you if he ever needs girl advice, which seems to happen a lot.

JT was just like Bo, except he is waaay more protective of you, maybe even a bit more than brock. He doesn’t have a sister and when you met, he made it his job to never see you get hurt. Seriously, one day a guy was bugging you at the bar, and both Brock and Bo were struggling to hold him back when he saw him slap you on the ass as you walked away.

Jacob Markstrom, AKA Marky, AKA Giraffe (pronounced like it is in one of your favorite vines), AKA your cuddle buddy for the past few seasons. Both being single, you felt lonely sometimes and Quinn wasn’t much of a hugger (despite what the nickname might have you believe). Thatcher had offered but Marky, though just as social, is much more laid back. It also helps that he is 6’6 putting him over a foot taller than you. So during movie nights, or late nights at the bar, he is the side you lean on. Of course, you made it abundantly clear to most of the boys and yourselves that you were just friends. As sweet as he was and as great of a boyfriend as he would’ve been, he wasn’t quite your type and your personalities clashed.

Then there was Elias Pettersson, the tall, skinny, Swedish guy you knew as Petey. The guy who looked at you often and barely spoke a word directed towards you. He was Brock's best friend and he came over all the time, you didn’t have an issue with him, and you couldn’t deny he was funny, and from what you’ve heard he is a very kind person. So naturally, he was exactly your type. You’ve had a massive crush on him for a while now, somehow despite the lack of conversation. And the few times he has talked to you, he’s seemed so perfect, but there are only a few times you can remember.

Right now, as you're on your way to the Canuck’s break room your brother texted you to meet him in, you try to recall those few times, specifically the one where your crush on him truly developed.

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FLASHBACK (some time in January, 2020)

--------------------------

You, Quinn, and Jacob were laying on the L-shaped couch in ‘The Boeser apartment’, you were cuddled under the blanket with Jacob, laying on the section perpendicular to the TV, your heads at the corner. Quinn was on the other side of the couch, his head right next to yours. it was about 7 o’clock and the episode of One Tree Hill you were watching had just ended and you three had not eaten dinner yet. As the countdown for the next episode started, your stomach growled and you got a look from Quinn and a giggle from Jacob.

“You hungry Y/C/N/N?” Jacob asked.

You looked up at him and giggled, “maybe just a little bit.”

“Y/N/N, you know what sounds amazing?” Quinn asked, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You turned to each other and you both smirked knowing you were thinking the same thing.

“Spaghetti tacos!!” You both said.

Ever since you were about 10 and you watched iCarly on TV, you had always wanted to try them. It had become an inside joke between you and Quinn for quite some time as he had the same desire as you to see how good they actually were.

“We should totally try them tonight!!” Quinn was quite excited.

“I’m so confused right now,” Jacob chimed in.

“They’re from a show! They take spaghetti and put it in taco shells,” you explained.

“Ahh, hence the name.” he nodded.

“Exactly,” Quinn said.

You jumped up from the couch excitedly and ran straight to your kitchen.

“Ok, we have spaghetti, spaghetti sauce, ground beef, taco shells, aaaand..... by chance do either of you know how to make good meatballs?”

“You’re asking the Swedish guy if he knows how to make meatballs?” Jacob replied.

“Not Swedish meatballs, Italian, stupid Giraffe,” you retorted.

“Gross,” he said with a disgusted look.

“Ooo my mom made the best Italian meatballs, let me call her to see if she can send me the recipe!” Quinn said with a big smile.

Quinn exited the kitchen and ran to your room to call his mom.

“You know, I’ve never seen him so excited about anything,” Marky said with a laugh.

“Quinn loves his food,” you replied.

“Are Brock and Thatch having dinner with us ?”

“I’ll ask.”

You started boiling the water for the pasta, and you cooked part of the ground beef for the meat sauce. Then you texted Brock:

Y/N/N: hey, you want me to make you dinner

Brock: Yeah, who all is there?

Y/N/N: the usual

Brock: Huggy and Marky?

Y/N/N: yep, so do you want some?

Brock: Yeah, and make enough for another person too

Y/N/N: ok

You figured it was Dems since that’s who he went to hang out with when he left 5 hours ago.

You continued to cook when Quinn came in and grabbed a bunch of stuff from the pantry and cabinets. “Did your mom tell you how to make them?” you questioned your frantic best friend.

“Yes she did and she sent me the recipe too.”

“Coolio,” you reply.

------------------------

You were almost done cooking, the pasta was done, Quinn had put his meatballs in the oven and there were only 5 minutes left on the timer. And the sauce had about 2 minutes to simmer.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot what to do when they're almost done, she does this thing, I have to call her,” Quinn said with a panicked look on his face. He ran back to your room.

The front door to your apartment opened quickly, both boys laughing, “ahh, shit, my brother’s calling me,” Brock said as he ran back to his room.

“Why does everyone feel the need to exit the room for phone calls?” you asked Jacob.

He shrugged with a giggle, “I don't know, maybe they don’t trust us,” he said in a sarcastically dramatic tone grasping his chest.

The door closed slowly and you glanced at the doorway where you thought you’d see the ever adorable goalie, Thatcher Demko, instead, you saw the adorable, slender, tall blonde you’d seen all the time, but never had a one on one interaction with... except the first time you met, when he told you that you looked pretty.

“Hi, Petey!” Jacob said as he slipped behind you to watch you mix the sauce, he stood over you looking at the sauce and put his hand on your waist.

“Hi,” he replied, his smile from before had faded.

“Looks so good Y/C/N/N,” Jacob said with a kiss on your cheek, a regular action.

“Thanks, Giraffe, can you grab the taco shells?”

He grabbed them easily from the top shelf (tall ass bitch -_-), and moved behind you, placing his hands on your waist yet again, to move you to the side. “I've gotta run to the bathroom, but I’ll be right back”

“Ok, you have fun with that,” you said with a wink.

Suddenly, was only you and Elias in the room, and the silence was deafening.

“So what are we eating?” he said, pulling your attention to his bright blue eyes.

“Um, spaghetti tacos, they're from a tv sho-”

“Like from iCarly?” he interrupted.

“...Uh yeah? How'd you know?” you couldnt pull your attention away from his eyes, ‘they are just so beautiful,’ you thought somehow you hadnt noticed this within the on and a half years you’d known him.

“We also get Nickelodeon, you know,” he said while throwing you a smirk that made your stomach flip.

“Oh, I didn't know that,” you replied, feeling just a little embarrassed.

“iCarly was my favorite, actually.”

“Yeah, it was mine too,” you said, smiling back, looking at the way he just lit up your kitchen with his presence.

You both stood there for a second just looking at the other, “So how long have-,” he started.

“OKAY,” Quinn unknowingly interrupted, “so she told me what to do, turns out I have to put sauce over them for the last 2 minutes, so Y/N/N can you just put a tablespoon of sauce on each ball then put them back in for two minutes?”

“Yeah of course. Elias, you were saying?” you looked back at the Swede.

“Oh it's nothing,” he looked down at his shoes.

“Ok, Y/N/N you need to call mom and tell her we’re fine and that she doesn't need to worry about us please, Paul says she’s stressing,” Brock said as he entered the room.

“When is she not stressing about us? I’ll call her after dinner, how's dad?”

“Doin’ good, nothing has changed or progressed or whatever since we were home last,” Brock moved and sat on the couch letting out a big sigh.

“That’s good,” you let out a sigh.

“Petey, come here, we’re watching Gossip Girl” Brock shouted at the Swede.

“Ooo what episode are you guys on?” you asked. Brock had mentioned how he was making him watch the show you two had watched about 5 times together.

“Just after Chuck gets Dan kidnapped at Yale.”

“Oh so you still hate Chuck?” you asked Elias.

“Ew, yeah...wait is that gonna change?” Petey said with a scoff.

“Uh....,” you stalled.

“Y/N shut up, don't spoil it,” Brock interrupted before you could make it worse.

“Ok well, dinner is ready so just start the show after and we can all watch it together.”

--------------------------

“Oh my god, these are actually amazing,” Quinn said with his mouth full.

“I know, I did not think this was gonna taste good,” Jacob added.

“Hey!” you said, offended.

“Y/C/N/N, you know I love your cooking, it was the idea of the meal that I doubted,” Jacob said leaning into your side and putting his arm around your shoulder.

“Mmmhmm, suuure,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Hallå Marky, ni två är söta (hey Marky, you two are cute),” Petey said, confusing you, Quinn and Brock with the sudden change in language.

Jacob, being oblivious to what Petey was implying, just said, “tack broder (thanks, bro).”

Little did you know what was going on in Elias’s head.

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PRESENT

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Before that night, you never really thought of Elias in a romantic way. You'd been around him quite a lot, seeing as how, seemingly, is in your apartment more than his own. Sure, you knew he was cute and very sweet from what you'd seen, but up until that point, you'd never had a one-on-one interaction with him. That interaction, however small, was the beginning of an obsessive crush. Quinn was the first to point it out, you started listening closely any time he talked, attempting to converse with him, and thinking about him on a daily basis even when you didn't see him. And due to your stubbornness, no matter how unrequited your crush seemed, it never faltered. You had always thought he hated you, or maybe he just tolerated you because you were Brock’s sister, and you were always around.

However, that couldn't be farther from the truth.

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Tag list: @calgarycanuck @suffering-canucks-fan

#from a distance: series #pls let me know what you think!!#hockey #nhl #elias pettersson #vancover canucks #elias pettersson fic #brock boeser #elias pettersson x reader #elias pettersson imagines #elias pettersson imagine #vancouver canucks imagines #vancouver canucks fic #hockey fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines

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batarella · 3 years

Text

3 birds 1 stone - chapter 5

‘Dick, Jason, and Tim. Supposed brothers 'till the end, until all three fall in love with you. Who wins your heart?

The man who earned it, the man who stole it, or the man who always had it?’

A/N: you’ll all either love me and give me a hug, or burn me at the stake.

WORDS: 9119 WARNINGS: batarella being an evil witch

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

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A head of black hair. You could see it behind one of the couches at the library. Tim. He was reading a book.

“Pretty bird?”

Jason crept up behind you with his eyes squinted. Then he peeked into the doorway you were standing behind to see what you were stalking like some creep.

“Trying to talk to Tim?”

You swallowed. “No…”

“And you’re hesitating?” Jason quirked up a brow. “Why else would you stand here for a minute straight?”

“You’ve been watching me for a minute straight?”

“I came from all the way down that hall. I forgot something at the cave. Came back and saw you staring at something at the doorway like a mugger.”

You rolled your eyes, then turned back to face Tim not realizing how much you were moving your jaw.

“Pretty bird, talk to him. We can all feel the tension like some kind of invisible string.”

“God, not you, too.”

“Oh it isn’t just me. Trust me. A lot of us have noticed. On Christmas Eve you’re all touchy and lovey on each other and the next minute you're avoiding him like the plague.”

“I get it,” you snorted.

“Tim needs it. You probably do to.”

You scoffed at him when he came over and placed his arm around your shoulder, facing Tim just as you were.

“Listen. When you want advice about boys, my brothers especially, talk to me because if there’s anyone out there who knows those two walnuts more in this house, it’s me.”

“Two?”

He snorted. “Come on. Don’t deny about Dick, too.”

“Fuck, don’t tell me everyone knows about that-“

“Quit worrying.” You glared at Jason as he ruffled your hair. “I’m the only one who knows about Dick, other than Steph but that’s only because you told her. So don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed him off you.

“Remember,” Jason nudged your shoulder before he walked away. “I know my brothers best.”

You didn’t respond to that.

You waited until he was gone.

Then you stepped in, knocked, stood as still as a lamp.

Tim turned around and caught sight of you. He smiled, casually nodded for you to come in, and you did just that. Seeing that you were going to take the seat right beside him, he inched himself away.

Then he went back to his book. Kept himself occupied. He didn’t glance up at you even when you were so obviously staring at him.

Trying to keep things casual. Ignoring the obvious and only making things a whole lot weirder. You placed your hands on your lap and looked around the room. The coffee table was too far for you to just pick something up and have something to do, so was the next book despite you being in a library. You sank into the couch, your chin almost touching your chest to cower yourself away.

Though cowering right now would be the worst thing to do.

Tim looked up at you, eyes so soft you desperately wanted to melt. And he watched you so kindly, smiling despite it being clear that it still hurt.

“You okay?”

You just wanted to remember him looking at you this way forever.

At opposite ends of the same couch, with the window right in front of you so you could look into the gardens. Damian was outside. Meditating on the snow-covered grass and looking so peaceful. You wanted a bit of that peace.

“Y/N?”

Your throat had that itch, but it hadn’t hurt yet, giving you no reason to hide behind for not having anything to say. At the same time, you had everything and nothing to tell him.

“How are you?” you asked.

It was all you could say. You said it so swiftly, and it was basically all of what you wanted out of him. but barely, barely, could it cover the immense depth of what you wanted to know that was going on. Because behind that soft smile and that crinkle on his eyes, you knew Tim too much to know when he was about to break.

Not surprisingly, you should be looking the same way, too.

“I…” Tim put his book down on the arm rest and leaned towards you. “I’m alright, I guess.”

Maybe it was from the way you were looking at him. Wide eyed, yet with your mouth trembling and your hands kept to yourself. Like every spirit that kept you up had sunken so low towards the ground, you just wanted to sink even deeper until you couldn’t even see yourself.

When you kept your head down, thumb brushing over the back of your other hand, you heard Tim shift on the couch.

“I’m… I’ll be okay, Y/N…” Tim had faced away from you and leaned onto his knees as well, head to the ground between his feet.

The itch was starting to grow. Still it wasn’t enough to hinder you from talking.

“I’m sorry…”

“No,” he said. “Please don’t be sorry.”

You desperately wanted to just reach for him and hold his head to your neck, let him fall asleep in that couch wrapped in your arms so tightly, he couldn’t possibly feel safer anywhere else. But you couldn’t even do that, no matter how much he looked like he needed it.

“You didn’t deserve how I hurt you…” Tim whispered. “That was selfish.”

“Tim…”

You inched closer, but he backed away.

‘I love you.’

So close to just slipping out of your lips.

You weren’t too sure what would happen next. Frankly, you were too afraid of that.

You still loved him. Every bit of you throbbed at the sight of him. Both your arms constantly wished to hold him and stay. Your eyes lock onto him like you were seeing a sunset in Greece. Nothing passed when you weren’t worrying about where he was, wondering what went on in his head at times when you just catch him smiling. You stare at him for too long people often had to snap you out of a trance. You discretely did favors and the littlest things just to earn a laugh or even a smirk from him just because his smile meant everything to you. Your day was made from the sight of him laughing so hard he was on the floor clutching his stomach and you ended up realizing it was the most beautiful sight and the most beautiful sound you’ve ever witnessed. You always kept a side eye stuck on him wherever he was in the room, no matter what he was doing. Always, always put his happiness first over anything else. You watched him be with other people, watched him grow into this incredible man to admire and look up to. He never failed to make you proud. Never failed to earn your smile just as much as you worked to earn his.

Trusting him with your life. Letting him see all the hidden parts of you. Letting him see you with your leg off. Letting him hold you even when his hold meant two different things between you and him.

Seeing him slowly fall in love with you again, feel his touches warmer, his hands feel tighter, his gazes last longer, his words softer, his talks mean deeper, his eyes shine brighter.

Knowing with all your heart that he had fallen so deeply, desperately, undeniably in love with you all over again.

You not knowing if it was for the best…

Tim, with his long hair falling over to his face with his head dipped down, shut his eyes so tight it looked painful.

You never stopped loving him. Not even for a day. Torturing yourself to this extent, to care so much for someone who’d hurt you unlike anything and anyone else your whole life. Still holding on, with no plans of letting go, even when your own memories and trauma and your own feelings were screaming at you to forget him. When both your love for him and the pain from all those years ago never went away, coexisting into this mush of all the emotions you couldn’t possibly control.

Because looking at Tim hurt you just as much as it sparked your love. Not a day when you didn’t constantly long for him to be in your arms, but neither was there one when you forgot what it was like for him to just throw you aside.

The most agonizing, torturous thing you could possibly do to yourself. You wouldn’t know if kissing him would feel any different from Christmas night, or if that old spark would come back and convince you that this was a decision you made right.

And being with him, it would only make things so much worse. Telling him how you felt, no matter how strong and how much they just wanted to all be poured out on the table for him to know, it just wouldn’t make things any better for either of you. Because you’ve seen him fall in love with you the first time, when you were both just fifteen years old, he told you how much he loved you, when he asked you to be his, and you lept into his arms screaming ‘yes’ over and over until both your ears hurt.

And that had gone. Faltered. Crushed you into pieces you still haven’t been able to pull back together.

You don’t want to through all that again.

“Tim…” You needed to let this all out. “I wish there was something I can do…”

“Please… You have to believe me… I’ll be alright.”

It wasn’t so sudden. It wasn’t a surprise. Still, when his palms reached over to hold your hand so tightly, you shot up and stared unmoving at him.

“You still love me,” he said. “I always knew that.”

There was nothing more heartbreaking than the way he smiled at you then.

You just held his hand tighter, never looking away from him.

“But I hurt you too many times. I can't turn back what happened… I realize that now... I shouldn’t have made a move…”

“No…”

You knew he had more to say to you that he was trying to hold back. After he took his hand away, you felt too cold, too alone. You desperately wanted to lean into his chest.

The gifts. Tell him about the gifts. The Valentine’s present that he gives you without fail. The ones that only started arriving right after you’d broken up. How it would be the fourth year now since then. When you thought it was from Bruce who took notice of the things you liked until you eventually realized it was Tim making things right after he’d torn your heart apart. The perfectly wrapped silver box with a crystal-like bow. The BlueBear Sketchpad. The ten-piece Tremblay brush set. The five tubes of Lalande Acrylic paint. All the other gifts. All supposedly just gifts. All just things, but everything had been so carefully picked out, chosen to your best interest as if he knew exactly what to find, as if you’d told him all those yourself.

Only he could have possibly known you enough or have paid attention to all the sketchbooks and paint brushes you yearned for every year. Only he could have loved you that much to never forget to make you so happy. Only he could have possibly taken notice of the tools you like to use and how you did your work. Only he could have the guilt to make up for your broken heart.

Tell him about how those gifts practically made your career. Tell him how much they pushed you even further to be a better artist.

Tell him how the thought that was placed on every single gift, how you could just feel the love he’d left on the way he tied the ribbon. Tell him how much you appreciated everything so much that each time you look back at every gift, you could make an entire painting just from how inspired you were of him.

Tell him it was one of the reasons why you had partly healed and moved on, knowing he was still there looking out for you, supporting you, taking care of you, loving you even from afar.

Tell him how those gifts made you hold onto your love for him so much, that even now you just couldn’t let him go no matter how painful it was to want to stay.

He could have given you a stuffed toy from a crane machine or a burger from down the street for all you cared. It was the thought, and so much of thought came from each time you opened the gifts and it was adorned with little love notes, individually wrapped presents in a silver box. It not only looked like it came from him. It looked like it was meant to fit everything about you.

And perhaps, it will remain to be the biggest mistake of your life, when you continue to live on knowing you didn’t tell him any of those truths.

Because you just kept quiet.

It hurt how much he was just as silent as you were, punishing himself with his own thoughts that were probably just as cruel as the ones you were telling yourself. This was why it couldn’t be anymore. With him.

Being with him had so much love, and with it came so much angst. So much hurt.

And it hurt even more that you had fallen in love with Dick as well.

“I’m sorry.”

Tim stood up and left the room, and you didn’t look at him long enough to know if his gaze on you went on until he’d stepped out of the door or if he hadn’t looked back at all. Because you’ve grown far too stiff, far too frozen for you to react to anything, even when it had growntoo cold for the window to be open. Your muscles had set in place, you stuck on that couch. You didn’t bother to move even if icicles were to be forming under your chin.

And yet, even after you did what you had been telling yourself for so long, nothing changed. You still had that deep crater permanently staring back at you from where you could see your chest. You still had that dark emptiness that caved in each time you dove further into your poisonous, torturous thoughts. It didn’t do anything any better.

Six years ago, you chose Tim. There was probably no one else you could possibly think of to be your first love, your first boyfriend. You chose him and never looked back. You loved him more than anyone you could possibly learn to love even when you were far too young to even fully understand what love was.

You chose Tim, and when he’d hurt you, left you as you realized he didn’t choose you the way you’d chosen him over everything else, someone else came along and you learned to love him, too. And you realized that you could, in fact, love someone just as greatly and deeply as you did the first time. Maybe even more.

But that was what Dick had been to you. Someone you loved. Someone who brightened up the days that seemed pitch black for hours on end. You hated yourself knowing that no matter how much you loved Dick, he was still just a second to Tim, who you’d always choose first. Dick was someone who was only there because of the circumstance.

Someone you wouldn’t have fallen in love with if Tim hadn’t left you.

Someone you hadn’t kissed yet, even when you probably should have that night in front of the easel, because someone, the man who still had your heart was keeping you from falling into the arms of the man you so greatly wanted.

One of these days, you had to admit the truth. Never mind to anyone else. You had to admit it to yourself.

It didn’t matter if Tim was the one you loved the greatest or not.

You’re not holding yourself back from Tim because of Dick.

You were holding yourself back from Dick because of Tim.

-----

You never promised to stay longer than a week, or even longer than when you actually wanted.

You couldn’t take this anymore.

Your bag looked and felt a lot fuller than when you came in and it needed a bit of effort just to squeeze in your hoodie. Though it was definitely because you were just piling all your clothes unfolded without much care for creases, you just went with it and closed the zipper hoping it wouldn’t explode. Hands on your hips, eyes taking its much-needed break, you breathed.

“You’re leaving?”

Dick. He was at the door and he looked frantic.

You shrugged and played it as cool as you possibly could. “I think I should head home now…”

“It hasn’t been a week.”

“I have work,” you swallowed. Your coat was all the way over to the other side of the bed.

“Did we do something? I swear, we’ll leave you alone next time.”

“It’s not that.” You took your other bag filled with all your equipment. “I shouldn’t be staying here long. Besides. I know you’re going back to San Francisco tomorrow.”

“I-“ He looked nervous. “How’d you know about that?”

“Steph told me. You got something to take care of with the Titans?”

When you had both your heavy bags slung over your shoulder, you went over towards him.

“Yeah… I do… But I was gonna come back.”

“It’s fine. Seriously. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you again when you come back”

You hand was on his arm and you smiled.

“I haven’t had a nightmare since I came here.”

Then your palm found itself on his cheek.

The way he was looking at you then…

“If you need anything at all, you know you have me.”

You pulled him so close to you, but he remained unmoving, stiff. Your arms were around his neck and you kept holding him tight even when you felt his own arms hold you back far too late.

When you backed away, Dick wouldn’t let you.

“Wait.”

His low, breathy voice, much more resembling a whisper. He held you by the waist and wouldn’t even let you pull your head back away so your mouth wouldn’t feel his breath.

“Can we go somewhere?”

You blinked. “Go somewhere?”

“Just the two of us.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

You finally pushed yourself away so you could stand on your own. Being so pressed so tightly against his chest was making you lightheaded.

“Why?” you choked. “Where would we go?”

“There’s this place I’ve been wanting to take you for a while.” Dick held both your hands and you didn’t know if you were dumbfounded at how intimately he was holding you or at the words he was blurting out right then. “It’s not too far off, but it’s quite the drive. It’s not as cold there, too. So it’s the perfect place to paint.”

“Paint?”

“Yeah…” He smiled softly. “I just thought you’d like that.”

Instead of a decline or even a snort at the ridiculousness of this spontaneity, which probably wasn’t spontaneity if he’d planned this out before, you were grinning.

“That a yes?”

You couldn’t exactly say no to him.

“Fine.”

“Take everything with you. Come on.”

Dick held your hand the whole way out, into his car, speeding out of the garage like some runaway driver in a car chase even with the snow-covered streets stopped him from going even faster.

Your heart was racing even when you were still sitting on the passenger seat and trying to hold back from smiling too much at the sight of Dick looking so panicky and jumpy at the intersection.

“I can't believe we’re doing this.”

“You don’t even know where we’re going. Just relax.”

“Excuse me, you relax. You look like your hair’s about to jump out of your scalp.”

Dick actually messed up his hair even more and smirked. You took your coat off, settled on the seat and reclined it back so you could lie down. “How long’s the drive?”

“About an hour. You can sleep if you want.”

Dick had slowed down, and his nerves most probably did too.

Your eyes were all on him the whole time as you slowly drifted into this light, calming nap, the first that hadn’t been over a night of too much thinking.

When you’d woken up, you could have sworn you were still in a dream, a trance, something that had come straight out of the own creative runs in your head.

On one side of the car, you could see the hill Dick was driving up to in a spiral. Snow-covered grass. Pine trees magically being blanketed by the white whilst still showing off that earthy green of their leaves. The cold, grey cement that the car was slowly driving up to. Everywhere you looked about, the hill looked magnificent.

Then there was the equally majestic other side. On your side of the car window. You peeked over, and where the road had ended, the cliff dropped all the way down into the crashing, roaring ocean that went further out into the far horizon stretching towards the end of sight. It wasn’t so blue as it was this mysterious, freezing gray that looked too similar to the road’s color, but that, with the white of the snow and the trees and the clouds that littered all over the sky, you’d say your breath would be taken away if you even had any left at all.

You only wished your paint would do any of this any justice.

Dick drove until you’d reached all the way up the hill.

Coat over your shoulders, you stepped out of the car and were surprised you weren’t freezing your fingers off when you were so high up and the sea so close.

“See.” Dick threw his arms up. “Not too cold, right?”

“It’s perfect.”

You were too enamored with everything in front of you that you hadn’t even noticed Dick had taken out your equipment from the trunk for you.

You walked over to the edge, to where the hill started to descend, and you had probably had the most perfect view there possibly could be on the planet, where the cold ocean met the snow-covered land, before it morphed into this forest of green spikes shooting up to the view of the ocean and the clouds that looked too much like the snow. There was no sun, but it shouldn’t matter. Not if you painted this fast enough. And this might actually be one of the most scenic things you’ll ever paint.

You turned back to set up your easel and Dick helped you with your paint. He even brought a chair for you that you hadn’t thought of bringing, and with all that, as you sat in front of your easel, you had no idea where and how you were going to bring justice to such beauty in front of you and cram it all into one measly canvas.

But you weren’t even worried, even when you probably should be. You weren’t too in your head and neither were you too frozen to move or start picking up your brushes and work.

And before you could even come back to your senses, already your brush had been dipped onto this mix of a darker white and you were downright copying everything that went on in the scene in front of you. And it might have just been from the cold that stung your cheeks in place so frozen, but you were smiling the whole time. Brush on the canvas, that sound of each stroke of the tip’s hairs that left on a line of color. You started mixing the darker gray for the ocean and the rocks, then you started on the hill at the bottom side from where you were sitting.

In front of you, Dick had walked over from just watching you work to admiring the view all the way over to the edges of the slope. Even with the cold and the drying snow, Dick sat on a dry spot and brought his knees up to rest his elbows on. That, with his black hair waltzing about with the wind blowing against him in the face and the coat over his shoulders the same color as his Nightwing suit, he looked just about as beautiful as the view itself.

Smiling as you watched him lay down on the grass, you looked down and got another brush for you to start with the horizon.

You kept it subtle, since it wouldn’t be the center of the painting. You worked with the waves and how it came crashing down to this rocky abyss, right before it shot up to this pine-covered hill. That was what you’d envisioned. And with each stroke of the grayish blue and the whites for the sea foam that looked similar to the clouds hovering above it, you continued with the pines.

“What’s the best part about it?” Dick was propped up on his elbows.

You tapped the brush onto the easel. “About the view?”

“Yeah.” He rocked about while he hugged his knees. “The ocean?”

“I don’t even know. Everything about it’s so beautiful.”

He didn’t know you started painting a black-haired man sitting at the side of the hill.

“Gotham can only give you so much beauty to work on. You don’t get to go out to the country much to paint.”

“I really don’t. It’s always skyscrapers and helicopters and busy streets,” you sighed. “It’s nice to have something else for a change.”

When Dick looked back to shoot you a glance, you were dabbing the end of a fat brush onto the hill for the snow that had grayish tones in for the dirt and uncovered patches. Your fingers started to stiffen, but you managed to ignore it and continued to work so calmingly that it didn’t even cross your mind how nothing was crossing your mind at all. Like your head had been so engulfed into this paradise you found yourself in that it gave you that favor you needed of not having any thoughts that controlled you and your emotions, gave you that minute of freedom from the confines of your own head, that light you so desperately seek for the past few years when you needed that light. The waves filled in for any other sound, the white and the snow brightening that black static from your nightmares. Your head blank from everything you’ve been dwelling on. And the tapping of your brush, every stroke, every dab, every color you mixed on the palette, it filled in for that urge in your fingers that urged you to do something about your situation and the problems and the circumstances you had to deal with.

This was heaven.

And you could have sworn it was definitely the view that did this, not anything else. But deep down, when you really thought of the realities that went on with how you felt and the last time you were brought to such gorgeous scenery, you’d know that the person you were sharing this with plays a significantly larger part in that calmness.

Perhaps hours had gone. Maybe two. Dick had stood up from his space on the ground and had taken another chair from the car to sit beside you. Then you heard a snicker when you’d finished up with ocean and the clouds and the pine trees and the hill and went on to the finishing touches of a handsome man looking out into the sea, with a blue coat and black hair flopping over his ears. He was looking to the side, faint red lips curved up, and his eyes, even with it so tiny, you could still see how it was the brightest blue in the picture.

Even with the view so breathtaking, you’d done so much justice to Dick’s beauty that only he could possibly contest the ocean. With the ocean so striking and the hill side so gorgeously done, all eyes would still end up on Dick, and he had on that smile he’d give you that always brought out the best in just about anyone he meets, takes away the darkness wherever he went, pulls anyone’s spirits up from the ground so much that you couldn’t possibly remember even the worst thoughts you’d otherwise never be able to escape from.

“I’m going out on a hunch here,” Dick said. His face was right beside you and your shoulders were touching. “But I do believe that’s me you just painted there.”

“Lucky guess.”

You placed your brushes onto the container on the easel and sat back. Tilted your head. Took advantage of the light whilst it was still there. Because in front of you, the sun that was tucked beneath the clouds had started to settle and soon enough it will be so cold you’ll freeze before it’ll eventually be too dangerous to drive around in the dark province. Though Dick didn’t look like he was too worried about that.

“I can't possibly look that good.”

You guffawed. “I think I did just about right with one of the best-looking men on the planet.”

“Aren’t you the charmer,” he winked. And you shook your head to avoid looking at him in the eye too much and choke.

You placed all your paint back into your bag, along with your brushes and rags. Then Dick folded up the easel and you held the now dried painting up in your arms, holding it up to match the view you just took it from. As you lowered it, the sun had gone, and it was dark.

“Dick.”

He came up behind you, hands in his coat as it was starting to get really cold, then when he was in front of you, you handed the canvas over to him.

“It’s for you.”

He smiled. “I brought you here for you. As much as I love it. You should keep it for yourself. When’s the last time you painted just because you wanted to?”

Everyday, his words never fail to remind you how deeply you’d fallen over. “I-I don’t…”

“Exactly. You don’t. Hang it up on your room. Wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of me up on your wall.”

With your brow up, you wanted to titter as he took the painting for you and placed it in the back seat. You trailed behind him, hugging yourself in your jacket when the wind that was blowing up on that hill were getting much stronger than your tolerance.

You blew hot air into your hands, scrunched yourself up into this stiff body, then when Dick turned back around you wished you weren’t shaking so much like a goof. With a handsome little smile, he came up to you and held your arms tightly in his palms.

“You’re cold?”

“No, actually I think it’s a little humid.”

You thought he’d stop at your remark but he just rolled his eyes and kept rubbing your elbows to keep you warm. “Aren’t you cold?”

He shrugged.

The little street lights at the side of the hill were all there was, because it was pitch dark by then. And when you looked out into the far end of the other side, behind the view you were just looking at, the city lights contested with the country side’s calmness. Although it was so beautiful, and even with your place being so quiet, you still could hear the bustling noises you wanted a break from now.

Dick was leaning against the car, and you felt how his hands longingly lingered on your arms just before he slipped them off of you. But even then, you still felt close. You were standing in front of him, alone in the gloom in the best place on earth. And with the silence, more so could you hear the ocean against the hillside rocks. The smell of salt from the sea and the earthy musk of the hill made it all the more calming.

You met Dick’s eyes, wide-open and glimmering. His forehead was creased up, hands in his pockets, he looked at you so enthralled by how close you were standing that it pulled you to take another step closer.

“If you won't stay at the manor…” He licked his lips. “Is it okay if I visit you a lot? Like, a lot more than I already do?”

You wished you didn’t sound so casual like you were just talking to Cass or Duke, just friends. “Of course, Dick. You’re always welcome.”

And even when he was so obviously trying to hide it, the way he flattened his lips and faced the ground let you know that it killed him.

You sighed. “Sorry, I just… With what happened with Tim-“

“I know,” he said. “I know what happened.”

“You do?”

“Well, I know something happened. I honestly wished I realized that before I invited you over. I had no idea then.”

“It’s alright.”

Still, he was looking at his feet. You toyed with a rock with the tip of your shoe, and accidently you tapped on his.

“I’m glad I did.”

“Really?” He looked up.

“Yeah.”

His back was no longer against the car, so he was standing even nearer to you, close enough that your toes would touch and linger to stay. Creases at the corners of his eyelids. His lips so plump and looking so soft.

Dick was definitely glancing at your lips as well, with the way he was looking at you, eyelids now relaxed and his mouth parted slightly enough for you to have a peek of his teeth.

He was so beautiful…

“I’m glad your stay at the manor made you feel better.”

No more games. You wanted him too much.

Is it selfish to go through with this? Knowing what was going to happen?

“Dick…” you gulped. “It wasn’t the manor…”

He didn’t look surprised. He wasn’t moving, nor did he react. But you could feel how his breath had quicken, his eyes open wider, how that relaxed concern turned into this breathless panic even when he was standing so still.

Though you wanted to cry, you found yourself smiling.

That same smile that always seemed to silence him. The one that lingered in minds and stopped all things happening around. And with how you were standing so close to Dick, you were practically giving him the whole world.

You swallowed.

A hand on your cheek. You didn’t even notice it come up until it was holding your face so firmly and warm, you wanted to melt right then. It was so dark, but with so little light, you could still see his eyes. And the cold breeze that had long passed, you couldn’t care to notice. Your body wanted to shiver, but you kept still.

“It’s you…”

He wasn’t exactly smiling.

In fact, Dick looked nothing else but relieved.

You could feel it in the way his hold on you loosened and his eyes drooping so low from how he was so close to just falling into you, and how his other hand had now found itself on your waist.

Even when you were silent, you just knew exactly what he wanted to tell you.

And he told you everything, without uttering a single word, when he so lightly touched your lips with the radiating warmth of his own.

You closed your eyes. He smelled like jasmine.

Then you listened to everything he had to say.

‘Finally. Finally, when I thought you’d never get to be mine. Kiss me, and I’ll make it all go away. The pain. The darkness. I’m here for you for so long as you’d have me.’

Your arms had long circled his neck before you even realized it. Fingers lost in his thick hair, so tightly holding on so he couldn’t possibly pull away. Then there was the way he was holding your waist, and you moved about, pushing on each other, pulling towards each other. Beating and throbbing and just getting every bit of the kiss you possibly could. As the winds started to blow harder, you started to shiver from the sudden gust of cold, but he held you even tighter as if he knew.

So, so beautiful. And so magical. The voices of angels right up against your ear. Some sultry song perhaps, guitar strings that go so well with the ocean. Because even if you had the strength to possibly hold it back, tears had fallen to your cheeks. This was too long awaited. Too long have you wanted to kiss and hold him and finally he was here with you.

‘Y/N’ he continued to say when his tongue so sensually parted your lips. ‘I never thought I’d have you. I never thought I could want someone I could never have as much as I wanted you. Please have me, too.’

You hand gripped on the fabric on his chest, under his jacket, and Dick grabbed hold on your hand and so slowly brought it up to his face, which you held so dearly, you heard a deep moan escape his lips.

But even if you weren’t standing on that hill, when the waves of the sea weren’t rolling against the cliff and the winds were so nicely blowing your hair all over or even if you hadn’t spent the past few hours being mesmerized with the most beautiful view by the side of the most beautiful person, nothing could change how sweet your kiss was. Dick held your body so tight, and for so long did it last, you had no idea just how much this was going to dawdle against your skin. The balm. The song. It was all too much like you were floating in the clouds.

Dick was leaning into you that you had your back arching, then you pushed back, hands all over the back of his head, and when your moth parted so open, his tongue was all over you and you just wanted to fall to the ground. Your strength just couldn’t keep up with him any longer.

When your hands were on his cheeks, you were surprised to feel tears there as well.

‘I love you.’

You didn’t want to make yourself believe that was actually what he wanted to tell you, because with the way he was kissing you, how hot his tears felt and how they continued to seep out of his eyes, how he watched your face move like he wouldn’t miss a detail for the world, it all seemed to point towards it being the truth.

But it couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be.

And just like all good things, reality caught up.

With your arms now against his waist, Dick went on to pepper light kisses all over your face. Your eyelids. Your cheeks. Your nose.

Then you had your forehead leaning against his. Even with his touches, how securely he held you, you swallowed.

And you just wanted to burst out crying.

Because even with all those other things he told you with that kiss, it all dawned to you at that one, excruciating moment when you stopped being so obsessed with his lips, looked at him in the eye and read between the lines. Because it was all so clear, you just wished you’d seen it sooner. His kiss told you many things, but it also told you more than you hoped.

It was the way his throat hitched when you looked at him so longingly. You weren’t so sure at first, but you were sure of it now.

“Y/N-“

“Kori’s back…” you whispered. “Isn’t she?”

The way everything fell. His face. The shift in his cheeks and eyes. You could tell he wanted to back away. And you did it for him.

He just pulled you closer, but he didn’t even have to answer you anymore. You wiped that long-fallen tear from your cheek and shook your head.

“That’s why you’re going back?” you said. “You’re going back to see her.”

“Y/N, I swear I was going to tell you-“

“It’s okay…”

Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing that even with the god-awful sting that slapped your chest, you still managed to smile and caress the side of his face so gently, you just knew the chaotic discourse going on in his head was just as irrepressible as yours.

“It’s okay. Dick…” You thumbed his cheek. “Go back to her.”

“Y/N, please listen to me,” he held both your hands now. “It isn’t her I’m going back to. There’s this thing that the League. And they’re calling the help of the Titans. Everyone has to get on board and Kori had to be called in-“

“Dick…” you said. “ You were supposed to marry her.”

“That’s-“ he was trembling. “I know. But it was my choice to call it off and I didn’t even get to talk to her after I left. I at least owe her that. A talk. But I swear, it’s all there will be-“

“Dick… Please…”

You let go of his hands.

“Y/N,” he swallowed and his voice stiffed and deepened. “I swear to God, I know for a fact that you’ve known all these years. You couldn’t possibly have told yourself it wasn’t true. You know I want you. I’ve always wanted you, and you’ve always known that.”

“Dick-“

“You’ve always been…” He loosened his hold on you just in case you didn’t want to be held so tightly. “Always. It’s you.”

Lips between your teeth, you kept your eyes closed. And just as he’s let go, you backed away.

“Then why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye?”

Goodbye.

You felt it the moment he said he had to take you somewhere so suddenly, when he took you to the most beautiful place on earth and looked at you like it was the last time. Goodbye. That was the word you instantly thought of after all those moments. You couldn’t point it out, and it never raced from the back of your head, all until you finally said it and it was out in the open. Goodbye. This was how he was saying goodbye.

“I’m-“

“Dick, it’s alright.”

“It’s not.”

Dick held your face again.

One more kiss. It truly, definitely felt like goodbye now. So soft and gentle were his lips, you held his wrists and so slowly pulled them away from holding your face. And when he had lost his hold, you backed away.

And after a long, painful moment of quietness, staring at the empty grass, letting the wind get in between, Dick wiped his eyes with his sleeve and went around to the driver’s seat of the car.

You got in. And as he started up the car, you closed your eyes.

Dick didn’t deserve to be in this mess.

Because in those fantasies you let your mind wander off to when you were being good to yourself, you could only imagine ever being with Dick when times were perfect, when you had the whole of your heart solely belonging to him, when you weren’t loving anybody else, when he had the propriety of all your love and effort directed to him. When there was only peace, light, and if there were to be darkness, only his presence was called for and it would fix everything. Only then could you allow yourself to commit to him. When you knew you had your demons set aside no longer to come back.

Because he deserved to have that perfection. That light. He deserved to have you bring that light into his life just as much as he brought that light into yours. He deserved nothing less than all that brilliance he’d trail behind and he deserved to be as carefree and happy as he made you. Dick deserved that kindness. That peace.

You loved him too much to possibly give him the you that you were now. Still hung up on Tim. Still having that internal dilemma. You had to hold back. At least now, when you knew it just couldn’t be.

And he had Kori.

Dick can only say so much now, how nothing was going to happen. But it won't be the same when they see each other for the first time in a year. That spark will come back. He’ll fall in love with her all over again.

And you’ll have done all this for nothing.

So no, you weren’t going to give all of you to him now. Not when you were rational enough to know what to expect.

You reached your apartment.

“Thank you, Dick.”

He couldn’t even look at you in the eye.

“I’ll see you…”

Dick gripped on the steering wheel.

“Bye…”

His voice wasn’t at all solid or frustrated. He kept that softness that was always there when he was with you. He whispered it out.

And with that, you were certain that this was, in fact, goodbye.

You got all your things from the back and went into the apartment. You heard him drive off soon after.

You basked in that loneliness. The silence. Realizing that maybe it was possible that the manor cured your dreams.

You took off your coat. Changed for bed

You took out all your clothes from your bag and put them all in the laundry.

You went over to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

As it almost fell into midnight, you pulled out your equipment bag to clear it out.

You got your extra canvases, your paint brushes, your paint, and for a moment you ignored the silver box that sat on the floor of your bag for a long while to place all your supplies all around your studio.

By the time you finished, you were sweating. But you brushed it off. You drank from your glass again and went back to your bag to pull out that silver box.

Then you stopped.

The silver box. With a crystal-like bow on top. Your name scribbled on top. Everything wrapped so perfectly with the gentlest hands.

Your fingers were trembling as you pulled on the bow and took out the cover.

A BlueBear Sketchpad.

A ten-piece Tremblay brush set.

Five tubes of Lalande Acrylic paint in periwinkle blue, mandarin yellow, raw umber, antique gold, and viridian. All different colors from last year’s Valentine’s day.

A six-piece charcoal pencil set.

A necklace with a color-wheel pendant. One you found at the art fair but couldn’t buy for yourself.

Pencil pouches with your name engraved on a gold plaque.

A palette the shape of a lily made of ceramic.

A letter.

You knew exactly what was going to be on there.

You already knew what was going to blow over when you open that envelope.

But as much as holding back can get you so far, you couldn’t possibly hold yourself back from this.

You didn’t dwell on that question for too long. You didn’t want to stop yourself.

You sat yourself down on your bed and opened it.

‘Y/N.

If I could go back, by some sort of possibility, you don’t know the things I’d change.

I won't go back to when you and Tim broke up and I swooped in to take care of you without bringing things any more than what we still are now. Friends. If anything, that was far too late for me to do anything.

I won't go back to before I had anyone else in my life, to before the wedding, to when I was supposed to get married. I wouldn’t go just to tell myself right then to leave and go to you. Still, it was far too late.

If I could change anything that’s ever happened, I’d go back to before you met Tim. So then, with you unknowing, you’d have met me first.

I’d give up my life for you to have met me first.

And I’d take it from there. I would have been the one to bring you to the manor and introduce you to my family, to Tim, and he would have my place in sitting in the sidelines, watching us get together and be together and kiss under the moonlight on rooftops and jump down skyscrapers and fight for those who can't fight for themselves side by side. Tim would have been the one who’d fallen in love with you regardless of having you wrapped in my arms and longed so much to have you in the room, settle for what he’d have and only meet you when other people are around. He would have been the one to watch us be the happiest couple he’s ever seen and have the selfishness to secretly wish we’d break up and he could have you for himself. He would have been the one to seek comfort in others, meet other people, try to have that kind of love we had and fail because he’s just so stuck up on you, someone he can't have, and give up on anything else that could have possibly made him happy because he only wanted you.

And he would have been the one to watch you hurt so much, get his heart broken each time he had to watch you cry over his brother who’d wasted away the best person he’s ever come to meet. Tim would have been the one to hate me for ever hurting you that way, because I had somehow forgotten that I could never have anything that I should choose over you, while Tim has had to keep himself aside knowing you could never be his but just can't stop to yearn for you. Tim would have been the one to come up to me one day and tell me that I was going to regret it for the rest of my life, letting you go.

But none of that happened. Tim was me. Tim met you first. And I, unfortunately, was the one at the sidelines in this story watching you both. And I hate it.

But I tell myself that if I had just met you first, that if I was just given the chance, I would have you right now. It probably isn’t true, because you and Tim weren’t even together yet when you and I first met. You chose Tim.

You chose Tim. And I would have been okay with it if he hadn’t hurt you so much.

And it might have been one of the worst things I could have ever done to you, spend too much time with you the last three, almost four years. Not look away when you caught me staring and let my compliments out of hand. Because I ended up hurting you, too.

By the time you had broken up with Tim, I had Kori. I won't say I didn’t love her. And I definitely won't say I’m happy our wedding didn’t push through.

But on that day, when I stood on that altar as the supposed groom, I caught your eye in the crowd.

And when I saw how you looked at me, trying to hide your tears. You were trembling. Your lips were shaking, and I saw the same look on your eyes as when you had your heart broken the first time.

I wanted to run to you right then. Because I realized, with how you had to watch me stand at that altar and not have you walk down that aisle, that you felt the same way I did for you.

The wedding stopped, and I had the choice to still go through with it or not.

But I didn’t want to be the reason why you had to be hurt the second time. No one, not even me, is going to hurt you. Not when I have a say on it.

But even if it weren’t true, if you didn’t feel the same way, I knew no one was ever going to have my heart the way you have mine.

So I took the risk.

I knew you still had feelings for Tim. No one was going to deny it. Tim had fallen for you again and by then I was sure I’d never get my chance. But it didn’t even matter anymore.

I choose you. Over everything.

I’m telling you all this not knowing what’s going to happen next, and it’s probably one of the most selfish, most dangerous things I’ve ever done. Cowardly, too, since I’m telling you this right before I leave the next morning. I don’t even know what I am going to do.

Believe me, if you choose Tim again, knowing he was going to make you happier than he ever did, never hurt you, bring out the best parts of you that I’d fallen for everyday, then I myself would tell you to choose him. There’s nothing I could ever ask for more than to see you smile. Even when I’m not the reason behind it.

But I’m writing you this letter, just in case you had doubts, because you deserve to know that if things don’t go the way you first wanted it, that I’m still here. And I’m telling you, whatever I’ve done to brighten up your darkest nights so far, I will do it all over again ten times just to prove to you that I will do everything I can to make you just as happy. Maybe even happier.

I keep myself alive so I can still be around to make sure you’d being cared for, no matter how much you’d hate that. This might have been too overwhelming, and I’m so sorry for that.

I don’t know for how long I’ll be gone, but I don’t think I’ll be there for Valentine’s to give you these gifts. I’m glad they make you happy. I made sure to take note of the tools and paint you like when I watch you work because nothing seems to make you happier than painting. I haven’t missed a year. I’m not about to miss now. Even when it means having to tell you the truth.

And this is it. The truth.

I never thought I could love someone this much, someone who was never even mine. But I do.

I love you.

- Dick

-----

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

-----

A/N:

MAIN TAGLIST:

@everyartistwas-firstanamateur, @sarcasmismyfirstlove, @damned-queen-of-gotham, @idkmanicantenglish, @wunderstell, @birdy-bat-writes, @get-loki, @everyday-imfangirling, @comic-nerd-dc, @multifandomgirl-us, @multifandoms916, @icequeen208, @offendedfishnoises, @egdolan, @xemiefx, @arkhamtoddler, @elsenthal, @mythicbitchx, @lucy-roo, @roseangel013bf, @loxbbg, @reclusive-chicken-nugget, @l-inkage, @http-cherries, @river9noble, @zphilophobiaz, @annoylinglyaries, @knightfall05x, @hyp-oh-critical, @satan-s-ass, @1-800-starmora, @flowersgirl02, @nahcho, @thatonecroc, @trixie-bb, @daddyissuesmademe, @ jasonsbitch, @shadowsndaisies

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@spaceservicestation, @thedeadlythoughts, @vanessafabricius, @pinkforest05

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kotosnoozy · 3 years

Text

「fourteen」 chapter 1

"Yuri did confess to me about one crush. First one he ever had, I’d wager, from how nervous he seemed. I had expected it to be Lady Estellise here,” Hanks says, the corners of his eyes crinkling mischievously as she flusters, “but the one detail he did give me certainly ruled that out quick.” “O-oh?” Estelle stammers. “Mmm, well. Apparently whoever they are, they’re significantly older than him. About 14 years, I think he said.”

On the nature of Yuri's first crush.

He hadn’t thought much of it at first.

Hanks’s fond babbling about Yuri over their extremely well-earned dinner is incredibly revealing about the usually cool-headed leader of their motley crew. The old man proves himself a riveting story-teller, keeping their entire party entertained for hours on end despite the incredibly long and taxing 48 sleepless hours they’ve had.

(‘Though there was almost a permanent sleep in there for some of us,’ Raven finds himself thinking morbidly, before digging his bitten-down nails as deep into his ankles as he can to distract himself)

It feels like the only time any of them stop smiling and laughing is to take another mouthful from their bowls of curry, piled high from the seemingly endless and eternal pots of the stuff in the knight’s mess hall (or in Rita’s case, to test out another formula against the system Alexei’s locked the princess into - luckless so far, but she’s yet to lose determination).

Hanks has provided all sorts of anecdotes: the adventures of a baby Yuri who had just learned to walk, quicker to his feet than Flynn but still only babbling in response to the younger’s full fledged scolding - their dynamic had formed incredibly early on, it seemed; fond recollections of helping him to learn to bind properly, their first real bonding experience that had endeared them to each other as adoptive-grandfather-and-grandson; prideful recounts of Yuri’s development from childhood cynophobia into a renowned dog-lover, of all the other little things Yuri had been scared of as a child and grown out of in time (and those he hadn’t - Raven makes a few mental notes for later reference); all the fights Yuri and Flynn had gotten into over the years, and the brief interlude where they had dated in their teens (‘If anything,’ he laughs, ‘the bickering became even more frequent at that point - thank heavens they didn’t last!’); and of course, everyone’s old favourite - that one time 2 years ago when he’d thrown Adecor into the river on tax day.

Raven’s heard that one on a number of occasions from all four of the people who’d been present when it occurred - it somehow never gets any less funny.

While most of Brave Vesperia and it's honorary members are thrilled to learn more about their favourite rebel, Yuri himself is less than happy about Hanks laying out his life story for everyone to see. It's plain on his face - the grimace of a man who appreciates how much his parents love him but would really prefer they didn't tell his date about the time he streaked naked through the town and peed in a fountain at 5 years old. His embarrassment is palpable, a pink glow to his ears that slowly spreads to his cheeks the longer and more intimate Hanks’ stories become.

It’s as he brings up Yuri’s childhood dream of joining the knights so he could sweep a princess off her feet, pointedly winking in Estelle’s direction, that their so-called fearless leader bolts to his feet. He spins on his heel, making a beeline to the other side of the room, and plonks himself violently between a bewildered Adecor and Boccos, immediately thrown from their confusion into annoyance as Yuri’s food slops all over both of them.

His previous dining companions merely snicker in his wake, Hanks chuckling fondly.

“He’s always been so easily riled, that boy. If this is how flustered he gets over just you lot hearing all this then I can’t even imagine how he’ll be when he finally shacks up with someone.’

“Wait, but didn’t you say he dated Flynn when they were younger?” Karol asks, head cocking to one side.

“Well between you, me and our gatepost friends here,” the old man says, leaning in - they all follow suit, as Hanks’ eyes pointedly glance over to Flynn, “I wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings if he hasn’t realised, but I always got the impression that Yuri was far less invested in their relationship than Flynn. It was Flynn who asked him out, after all.”

“My, that does surprise me. Yuri’s always seemed like he’d be the more proactive of the two when it comes to romance.” Judy muses.

Hanks raises his eyebrows, thin lips twisting into an uneasy frown.

“Wait a minute,” Rita says, leaning even further forward. “You’re not saying Yuri never had feelings for him are you?”

He winces, gaze averting. Raven feels his eyebrows shoot into his hairline.

“They’ve always loved each other, of course. But the tone of that love seems to differ between them. Their relationship was what happened when they tried to figure that out, it seems, but ultimately…”

“They just weren’t compatible as partners of that type?”

“Right.” he nods to Estelle. “In all honesty, Yuri might give off the air of someone with considerable relationship experience, but it’s Flynn who attracts more attention. And seems more interested in others in turn.”

Raven finds his gaze wandering between the two in question - Flynn has managed to find himself eating amidst a small crowd, knights and lower quarter folks alike, all of them doting on him and telling him stories, and him listening attentively to each of them in turn. Yuri, meanwhile is… wrestling with all three of the ex-Schwann Brigade’s most prominent knights simultaneously. Astounding.

“Yeah that tracks.” he finds himself murmuring, nails scratching through the chest hair that rises above the collar of his shirt. Even if Flynn wasn’t the most eager to please others between the two, the young man radiates a natural charm that draws others to him like a moth to a flame - it’s hard to forget how he was upstaged the time he took him drinking in Dahngrest. Yuri, meanwhile, has a proclivity for trouble and a tendency to stick his foot in his mouth with his wit. While endearing, he can’t imagine it’s the most efficient for pursuing new connections - even if he’s managed to attract all of the motley crew Raven’s currently sat with.

“So Flynn’s a secret ladies’ man and Yuri, despite all the pomp and swagger, has absolutely no game?” Rita snickers, casting a wry look across the room at Yuri that he’s too distracted to notice.

“Well I don’t know about that. Flynn’s a man’s man if nothing else, never shown interest in women to my knowledge. But… I don’t think Yuri’s ever actually been interested in dating , full stop.”

“No way, really?!” Karol barks. The exclamation draws the attention of the groups sat closest to them, even Flynn, momentarily, before they go busily back to their meals. Flynn’s expression as he looks at them is pondering, almost puppy-like, and Karol’s panic is practically visible as they watch him seemingly wrestle with whether to come over and see what the fuss is about. Then the woman at his side taps a hand to his elbow gently, and his manners win out - she successfully steals his attention back around, all of his interest in their discussion completely forgotten.

“Well. It certainly seems that way anyway. I remember him asking me, back when they dated, how he would know if his feelings for someone were romantic. He didn’t seem to understand my answer very well."

“That’s unexpected. I suppose my advances have all been vain!” Patty whines. Raven finds himself snickering - whether Patty’s affections are genuine or not is one mystery he's yet to solve, but her playing it up is never any less entertaining or fun to tease.

“Though now that I think about it… he did confess to me about one crush. First one he ever had, I’d wager, from how nervous he seemed.”

Patty surges forward onto her hands and knees, scrambling to get in Hanks’ face. Surprisingly, he’s not that caught off guard - perhaps used to it from Yuri’s exuberance as a child, or that other kid from the lower quarter who’s off chasing Repede on the far side of the room.

“I need all the details, matey! Don’t spare a single one!”

Hanks chuckles.

“I’m very sorry young lady, but he didn’t tell me all that much! I had expected it to be Lady Estellise here,” he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling mischievously as she flusters, “but the one detail he did give me certainly ruled that out quick.”

“O-oh?” Estelle stammers.

“Mmm, well. Apparently whoever they are, they’re significantly older than him. About 14 years, I think he said.”

“My my! That’s quite the considerable age gap.” Judy coos, tone teasing in spite of Yuri’s absence. She turns over to look at him, sitting atop a pile of knights and triumphantly tucking into a second of four bowls (spoils of war, Raven would wager) - they all do, in fact.

“Kid’s got taste at least. Nothin’ quite like the mature allure of an older lady~'' Raven sing-songs, half-joking. Rita jabs him in the side harshly.

“Shut up old man-- you said you thought it was Estelle he had a crush on right? So are you saying this is recent? ”

It’s like a switch flips in all of their heads simultaneously. Faces filled with shock whip to look at Hanks, who sits sheepishly clutching his bowl.

“Whoops. Might’ve let a little too much information slip on that one. I was probably meant to keep that detail private…”

“Oh my go--”

Rita slaps a hand over Karol’s mouth before his shriek draws too many eyes over. They all meet each other's' gaze one by one - Yuri's crushing on someone for the first time ever at this exact moment - before turning to look back at Yuri again. He’s mid-mouthful, spoon clutched in his hand like a shovel and sauce dripping down his chin, as he turns to survey his surroundings and catches their eyes.

“What?” he chokes out around his mouthful, just audible over the bustle of the rest of the room. He must see the sheer shock on their faces, as concern starts to cross his face and his gaze wanders to Hanks. “Wait, what did you tell them, old man?”

Hanks chooses that exact moment to get up, incredibly swiftly for a man his age.

“Well, thank you all for keeping me company, kids, but I must be off to… check on other people in… other parts of the castle. Right. Goodbye.”

The speed at which he heads for the door is quite remarkable - Yuri barely manages to scramble off his knight-pile-cum-throne before he’s gone from sight, and presumably halfway down the corridor before Yuri makes it out of the room after him.

It’s a shock, that much is certain. Raven hadn’t thought Yuri would be interested in older women - or people he supposes, he’s never really shown any inclination to anyone before in a romantic sense, so certainly not any specific gender. He’d never much struck him as the type.

But then he hadn’t struck him as the type to be interested in any type of relationship until this curveball of a conversation had come along. So hey, why not. If Yuri was into older people, he certainly wasn’t intending to torment him about it. Other than maybe one opportunely timed quip.

Honestly, he really hadn’t thought much about it at first.

But then the kids throw their own curveball.

“I can’t believe Yuri likes someone so much older than him!! Like, I guess I get the appeal of someone a little older than you for like… security or something, I dunno. But man, 14 years!!” Karol exclaims, as quietly as he can for his excitement. “I wonder if we know who it is.”

Rita barks a laugh, catching a distracted Patty off-guard. She begins anew whatever calculations she’d been making on her fingers as Rita shrugs exaggeratedly.

“I bet it’s some big-boobed motherly-figure in the lower quarter or something.”

“Well if all he wanted was big boobs and a nurturing personality then I’ve been here this whole time, all he had to do was ask!” Judith sighs, sly smirk giving away her lack of sincerity.

“Hey,” Patty pipes up suddenly, drawing their attention. “Isn’t Raven about 14 years older than Yuri?”

He feels the cogs in his brain whirr to a stop.

Suddenly, he is thinking very much about it.

“Oh yeah!” he hears Karol chirp. No doubt he checks the calculations on his own fingers, but Raven doesn’t register it if so, hard as he’s trying just to think at all. “Haha, that’s a weird coincidence!”

Estelle giggles.

“Imagine if it was Raven he had a thing for!”

He feels their eyes on him instantly, but it takes a moment for his brain to catch up. His own eyes must be wide as saucers, as they look at him, the mirth starting to fall from Estelle’s expression - he forces a ridiculous grin to his face.

“Haha, yeah imagine that! Someone like Yuri fallin’ for a washed up old fart like me!” he cackles, voice strained even to his own ears. “That’d be ridiculous!!”

The kids buy it though, Karol laughing along before pulling the others back into their debate about exactly who the mystery object of Yuri’s affections could be. It’s Estelle whose gaze lingers on him, just a moment or two longer, as the facade starts to crack, but she must see it - the silent plea in his eyes - as she turns back to the others not a moment later.

If anyone notices that Raven is mentally tapped out until they all go their separate ways for the night, then they’re at least polite enough not to mention it.

⇷-------------

Raven is a strange one.

This is Yuri’s third time meeting the man (or fourth, if the time Rita threatened to set him alight in Capua Torim counts as an actual encounter) and in all honesty, it’s hard to get a read on him past him being very obviously shady.

He seems as though he might be someone of consequence, if the quality of information he so casually throws like bones to random guards is actually as quality as he would have them believe. Either way he’s certainly silver-tongued, plying the others in Yuri’s makeshift travelling party into submission fairly easily despite their initial apprehension about him. Karol and Estelle are charmed by him, by his goofy antics if not the lolloping drawl of his accent, though they make no effort to hide the fact that they find him fishy. While Rita is far less taken, she seems to be placated by him taking her punishments, both fire and fists, like a champ.

The charm isn’t exactly visible to the naked eye though. He skulks at the back of the group, heavy footed and posture slouched. His clothes all seem far too big for him, obscuring the shape of his body in a way Yuri supposes is meant to make him seem unassuming, and he’s already displayed a number of habits that he knows would make any upper quarter noble’s toes curl - picking at his ears and the skin around his nails, before chewing at the nails themselves.

He has to admit though, he’s quite handsome in the face beneath the mess of dusty brown hair. Not in the same way as Flynn, with his big blue eyes and tousled blonde hair, the very picture of a storybook knight. His crooked nose, chapped lips, stubbly chin and hollow cheeks certainly make for a more unconventional type of attractive, but they all come together to create a certain appeal. The brightness of his eyes certainly helps too.

Also the combat prowess. Fighting ability is always an attractive quality in Yuri’s opinion, but especially in a travelling companion.

For a self-professed old man, Raven’s far more nimble than Yuri had expected. Sure, he’d made quite the getaway back in Capua Nor after he’d sold them out, but he’d assumed that’d been a one-off desperate sprint, not the norm. Apparently he was wrong, based on the nimble footwork he employs to dart out of the way of a particularly feisty howler. It doesn’t escape his notice how Karol nearly falls flat on his ass when Raven rushes past him and twists himself at an insane angle to fire an arrow across the way, skewering a beetle between its mandibles before it can take a bite out of Estelle.

“Woah, Raven!! Yuri, you’ve got some serious competition for your acrobatics now!!”

The bark of laughter leaves his throat unwittingly.

“I didn’t realise there even was a competition!”

He sees Rita roll her eyes as she releases a torrent of water behind her, clearly disbelieving him and with good reason; he’s never been one to back down from a potential competition. He breaks away from the corner of the forest floor he’s been holding down, using the momentum to propel himself up and over Raven, carrying it into his sword as he flips to crash it down into the skull of another monster. Raven whistles appreciatively as it disappears into dust.

“Not bad, young ‘un!”

He throws a smirk over his shoulder, ego swelling at the genuine awe on Raven’s face.

“How’s about it, old man? First to twenty?”

The awe transforms into a grimace in an instant.

“Ahhh, I dunno about that. Ol’ Raven’s never really been one for competitions, let alone effort. ”

He scoffs.

“Oh, come on. We’ve got no choice but to fight to get deeper into the forest anyway, right? So why not make a game of it? Not like it’ll actually be any more effort than you were already putting in.”

Raven purses his lips, seemingly unconvinced. His eyes narrow slightly as he stares off, deep in thought, the blue-green seemingly increasing in intensity. For all he’s been putting on the act of a court jester, Yuri is certain in that moment that there’s a deep intelligence to the older man; something unspoken, a wisdom beyond his years.

(Not that he knows how old Raven is but. Well, he gets the feeling that while he’s certainly older than he and his travelling companions, he’s not actually pushing middle-aged yet like he makes out)

Fwip!

He comes back to himself to see Raven’s face closer than before, upside down, chin in line with his collarbone. His bow arm (and subsequently the bow itself) is extended past his shoulder, the other loose by his head having just fired. Behind him there’s a thunk. A screech. A pop. And then silence.

“Looks like that’s one ta me~” Raven coos, eyes hooded as he smirks. He rolls his back, lithe and catlike, to stand himself back upright, stretching his arms out until his shoulders crack. For all his complaining about aches and pains so far (extremely numerous for the time they’ve been travelling with him, maybe an hour at most), he certainly doesn’t move as though he has any joint issues.

Despite his shock, he finds himself laughing.

If he’s honest with himself, he’s just as charmed by Raven as the kids are. He’s never made a connection quite like this one; with someone who can go toe to toe with his dry wit, and make it out the other side without being angry with him. Rita had been the closest (since Niren at least, but Yuri prefers to avoid thinking about the only father he ever knew if he can). But while Rita’s great with a back and forth, she’s easily riled, easily flustered. It only takes one slightly wrong jab and she gets stroppy, or else loses all interest in the situation.

Raven, for all his strangeness, has so far matched Yuri every step of the way. They’ve fallen so easily into a steady banter, something of their own personal comedy routine for just the two of them, some form of it present even from their first encounter way back in that jail cell. To have someone who can appreciate his snark, and give it back just as good while they both know it’s all in good fun? He’d never realised just how much he’d appreciate a relationship like that.

So yeah, Raven’s a little suspicious. But as far as Yuri’s concerned, he’s willing to offer him the benefit of the doubt for the strange comfort he gets from their repartee, just so long as he doesn’t do anything too crazy.

He slaps Raven on the shoulder, moving past him to continue deeper into the oversized brush.

“You got me, old man. But don’t you worry, you won’t be holding that lead for long.”

Raven merely cackles in response, wordlessly filing in behind him.

-------------⇸

There’s only one real constant within their travelling party, and that’s that the sleeping arrangements are ever-changing.

It takes a little while for him to notice, though in his defence the first week or so he’s with them is certainly not a typical week. In the more recent days, they’d gotten lucky with inns having enough beds for all of them, but the first few nights had been entirely sleepless in the hustle and bustle of, y’know, stopping a war, taking down the Blood Alliance and colliding with an actual genuine-article ghost ship.

(He’s still not sure what that was all about if he’s being entirely honest, but he’s old and ““wise”” enough by now that he knows there are some things in this world that you simply shouldn’t question)

So it’s Nordopolica where he finds himself bedding down with his new companions for the first time. The constant hustle and bustle of Palestralle’s workers and the fresh colosseum season unfortunately means there isn’t much free in terms of rooms. On the plus side, the three double beds they’re provided are plenty enough space for them all to be able to sleep comfortably; Fomalhaut’s rooms are quite spacious, nothing at all like the army barracks of his youth (though he supposes that should be expected from a city that considers itself something of an entertainment hub).

Raven takes his time ambling in behind everyone else, absently watching how effortlessly Repede transfers his pipe from one side of his toothy maw to the other. Rushing would be pointless, in his opinion, because he can already envision how everyone will double-up. Rita is sure to claim a spot beside the princess, for whose sake she could not be more clearly continuing to travel for despite her protests, and Judy won’t want to get lumped with a snotty (though admittedly quite sweet) brat or some dirty old man she hardly knows - he’s gonna get stuck with the kid, and the two of them can have a very one-sided competition over whose shitty little brain can give them the most nightmares in one night, and Raven will be perfectly content with that, thank you very much.

(It’ll be him who wins that one - hormone-induced nightmares are nothing compared to the horrors your brain can produce when you have blood and a war on your hands)

And then Karol throws him for a loop by tossing his bag semi-gently to the floor before diving into bed after Rita , of all people.

She hardly even makes a fuss. There’s a yelp - what sounds like it could be the start of the protest Raven would expect from such a combination - before she settles almost immediately.

“Just make sure you don’t kick me awake again, got it?” she barks pointedly at him, before rolling to face away from him and promptly cocooning herself in the blanket. He laughs at her, kicking off his shoes and fluffing up his pillow, seemingly content.

Wide-eyed, Raven turns to the girls - surely he can’t be the only one caught off-guard by this, it seems unthinkable for Rita not to put up a fight to sharing with Karol , and there’s an exclamation of surprise right on the tip of his tongue - only to find them claiming the second bed for themselves, Judy helping Estelle to unfasten the complicated buckles of her dress. He bites his words back, head whipping away; much as the image of a pervert works as a brilliant cover to convince the kids of his idiocy, peeping on the possible-crown princess as she gets changed is certainly not a thing he’s ever aspired to.

And so he comes face to face with the final bed. His bed he supposes, strange as it may still be to him. Yuri’s already making himself comfy on the left side, shirt and jacket thrown over the bottom edge of the bed frame. He stretches his arms up and over his head, muscles rippling as he yawns. He catches Raven’s eye as they fall back down, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes.

“Looks like it’s you and me, old man.” he says, patting the sheets next to him with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

He can feel his own lips quirk to mirror Yuri’s, even as he fights to push down the instinctive panic.

“And here I was hopin’ ta share with my darlin’ Judy!” he whines playfully, flopping down beside him face first in a show of dramatism.

“Sorry, Raven. I just couldn’t miss the chance to cuddle up with Estelle!” comes her voice, sing-songy, from the bed she’s claimed. He can see, as he pushes himself up onto his hands and knees to get better situated, that she’s doing exactly that. She’s practically spooning the princess, face buried in short pink locks, and Estelle herself looks the very picture of a tomato (not that he wouldn’t himself with Judith’s considerable… assets pressed against him).

“Well so long as yer not a cuddler yerself, Mr Lowell.” he jokes, rearranging himself onto his back before pulling the duvet up to his chin. For all that they’re in less than ideal circumstances with sharing beds, he’s glad to see Palestralle don’t skimp on the furnishings for their inns - the linen is incredibly soft, smooth against the pads of his fingers, and it’s a smart fabric choice for an inn in so changeable a climate.

Yuri huffs a laugh.

“I think I can hold myself back this once, just for you.” he says, tone laden with sarcasm. He watches Raven with keen eyes as he lounges on his side, head resting in his hand. Raven wonders how he can sleep like that - how his arm doesn’t cramp in the night, doesn’t wake him up in a fit of panic when he can’t move it, breathing shallow until the blood flow returns. He forgets, sometimes, that not everyone enters a blind panic over the little things.

“Why, I'm honoured! Yer benevolence knows no bounds!" he coos back, nose scrunching in amusement. Yuri smiles as he reaches back and pats Repede where he stands by the bed - a silent request to turn off the overhead light. The pooch complies, trotting off with a clack of his pipe between his teeth - Raven’s constantly caught off guard by the dog’s intelligence, the number of strange things Yuri’s managed to teach him (or perhaps that the dog has taught himself? He’s still not fully certain how much of a hand in training him that the young man’s had), and this is certainly another for the list.

“Damn right it doesn’t. Better make sure you show me the respect I deserve.” he says. He meets his eyes again as the blastia clicks off, dousing them in darkness. They crinkle with mirth, the abyss within softening even more as Karol giggles at their antics on the other side of the room.

They find themselves in a staring contest, of sorts. Or maybe closer to a game of chicken? He’s sure Yuri sees it that way at least, if his unblinking gaze is anything to go by. For him on the other hand it’s… something else. What exactly he can’t say. He’s just... transfixed .

Because Yuri’s plenty handsome on his own - perhaps even beautiful, if that’s more your thing. Raven’s already seen him turn a great many heads in the short time they’ve been together, including both the illustrious head of Fortune’s Market and the great forgotten war hero himself. Maybe he’d even let himself cast an admiring glance his way, if he hadn’t picked specifically womaniser for Raven’s bullshit cover-up trait.

But when the sea-breeze blows gently, kicking up the curtains, and the moonlight shines into the room, it catches him just so. The glow is ethereal, transformative, and it brings out the hidden flecks of golden brown in the depths of Yuri’s eyes, spins the silk of his dark hair almost chestnut. And just for a moment, he can trick himself into believing she’s here, the Canary herself, laid opposite him with a fond teasing smile, and oh god the hole where his heart used to be aches to reach out and touch her--

But for all her perfections, Casey’s eyes had never glowed quite like that had they? Never stared directly into his soul, made him almost want to bury into her arms and let her shoulder his every burden for him. Her kindness had inspired, but never been so bottomless that he wanted to abuse it, had never come off her in waves to the point it was visible in every little line of her face despite any grandstanding. Never so gentle to the broken that he could almost convince himself that he doesn’t need to run, that if he’s seen he’ll be accepted wholly, flaws and sins and all.

Not like Yuri. Not at all like Yuri.

The curtain drops, or else the clouds must roll in overhead. Either way, the moonlight vanishes, and with it goes the last vestiges of the illusion.

“Aye-aye, sir.” he all but murmurs, his voice tighter than just moments ago. He hopes, as Yuri’s face twists in concern, that his own face doesn’t give away the turmoil of his heart.

“You alright, old man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Hah, maybe I have!” he laughs, but it sounds notably hollow even to him. Still, he doesn’t break eye-contact as Yuri seems to peer directly into him, seemingly scanning his every thought and feeling, hope and dream.

The last thing he sees as he slips into sleep is the gentle embrace of the abyss. While his dreams are plagued by nightmares, a broken body bleeding out in the sand, he finds it’s the best night’s sleep he’s had in years.

-------------⇸

The town is silent, other than the gentle rustle of the sea breeze through the trees and the crunch of the dirt path beneath his feet.

They’ve been here all day, but Yuri’s not sure he’s used to how incredibly peaceful Yormgen is yet. He’s not sure he ever will be, either. He’s used to the bustle of the city, the shouting of vendors and newsies in Zaphias’s main market as carts laden with goods and people roll by. It feels like there’s always a dog barking, a clock chiming, a baby crying in the city, and the background noise helps him to switch his brain off in a way that the country never can.

Halure had been quiet to him - the calm atmosphere of the day, the slowness of shop transactions and conversation, had already been a lot, but for there to be a perfect stillness as night fell rather than an increase in bustle as drinkers started to take to the town had been the real whiplash. Despite a relatively large population, the town didn’t have a single dedicated bar to its name, and it’d thrown Yuri for far more of a loop than he’d ever expected.

Yormgen is even stranger. There must be all of fourteen people in this entire town, he thinks, and every single one of them vanished into their houses the moment the sun started to set. The only conversation he's heard that he hasn’t been directly involved in since Duke showed up and smashed their apatheia (he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t still annoyed about that) is that of his own travelling companions bickering over what to make for dinner with their limited ingredients as he stepped away to find their mysterious disappearing old man.

Raven took the loss of the crystal hard. Or at least, Yuri thinks he did. He certainly vanished quickly when they decided to wait around while Rita took some time to investigate. He’d been right next to him one second and then gone the next, before they’d had a chance to agree to meet back up for dinner at sundown. With no one having seen him all day since to let him know, it’d fallen on his shoulders to hunt him down and drag him back. Raven might’ve been plenty energetic on their first trip through the desert, but they all know better than to let him make the return journey on an empty stomach. The man eats like a bird at the best of times - he really can’t afford to be doing that now.

He’d grumbled and whined about it being him who had to go find him, but in all honesty he’s kind of pleased. He’s found himself surprisingly worried about the old man - this is the first time since they’ve started officially travelling together that he’s pulled a disappearing act. Normally it’s hard to get him to shut up for more than 20 minutes at a time, so the better part of a day without seeing or hearing from him at all is completely unheard of. If his silence doesn’t mean he’s curled up and died somewhere, then Yuri knows that he’s the only one of their party who stands any chance of fetching him with both of them left unscathed.

He’s explored the residential side of the town (if it can truly be called that) extensively already throughout the day. Not that it was hard to do - other than the homes of locals that are a bit further out, the town proper is essentially three big buildings and a deck. He’d quickly concluded that there were very few places to hide a man with a proclivity for such a bright shade of purple amongst the muted timber and the gentle green of the grass. The only conclusion he can come to is that Raven must’ve headed to the other side of town, to the sea of flowers that makes his sinuses itch just looking in their direction.

For all he knows they’ll give him a headache, the flowers are incredibly pretty. It had been the bushes of pink and blue trumpets that had caught his attention in the midday, as Estelle had run over to them in delight and plucked a few. She’d fashioned a few little fascinators, of sorts (a skill she’d learned in the finishing school she had no doubt been forced to attend as the potential future Empress), and spent the better part of an hour lacing them into everyone’s hair. If he looks back over his shoulder, he knows he’ll see Judith wearing the pink blossoms - rhododendron, Estelle had called them - with pride, while Karol nervously fidgets with his own, worried they’ll fall out, ruining the princess’s hard work.

Now, however, in the amber light of the sunset, it’s the flower tunnel that draws his eye. Not that he hadn’t noticed it before - it’s impossible to miss, vibrant as it is. But he’s never been the biggest fan of yellow, always a little bright for his tastes. The way the light bounces off the thousands of little flowers is certainly eye-catching though, setting them in such a way that their radiance is somehow easier on the eye. They’re impossible to look away from as he draws closer, some emotion he’s unused to, couldn’t possibly name, stirring in his chest. The chains dance gently in the breeze, bouncing against each other like a bead curtain, and something about it makes him nostalgic for the familiarity of the Lower Quarter.

Then he spots him, further in, beneath the boughs. His hand rests comfortably on the handle of the knife he keeps at his waist, the other left to the mercy of the breeze as he stares up amidst the blossoms. They bathe him in their glow, mingling with the dying rays of the sun, casting him almost golden . He’s mesmerised by the sight himself, it seems, completely off-guard for the first time in the couple of months Yuri’s known him - for all he plays the fool, Yuri would be an even bigger one not to realise how keenly Raven follows the every movement of all those around him.

But right now, he seems… defenceless. Open. Fragile. Unaware that a world aside from him and the sea of flowers even exists. He could do whatever he wanted to Raven in this moment, he thinks, and he just knows the man would be equally surprised by anything. Something about that knowledge, this vision makes his chest feel light, almost airy.

The image sears itself into his mind, unbidden, and he knows instantly. No matter how hard he tries he’ll never erase it.

“Laburnum.”

He startles as Raven speaks. Perhaps he hadn’t been as unaware as he’d thought.

“Huh?” he grunts dumbly.

“These flowers. They call ‘em Laburnum. Or golden rain in some parts.” he says, flicking his eyes (almost the vibrant green of dense aer with the glow) over to acknowledge Yuri. He goes quickly back to gazing upwards, almost reverent. “Pretty apt.”

Yuri finds himself eyeing the flowers again as he moves closer. They’re strangely shaped, the blooms, unlike any he’s seen before. The petals curl back and in on themselves, clustered closely together in a way that hides the little shock of red in their centres. Stranger still are the buds, gently curved in a way that reminds him of the plantains he’d seen in Dahngrest’s market.

From the right angle, they could almost look like birds in flight, or indeed a sudden burst of rainfall.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Raven’s lips quirk into a smile. His eyebrows set into something pensive, wistful even.

“They’re pretty rare these days. Didn’t think I’d ever get to see a single tree with my own eyes, never mind a whole grove…”

The melancholy that’s settled over him like a veil is impossible to ignore, his voice distant as though transported to another time. There’s a pressure at the base of Yuri’s throat as he watches him, finds himself wanting to do… something. He’s not sure what. Just anything to pull him from his reverie. But of course, in the end all he really knows is sarcasm.

“Wouldn’t have taken you as the type to know about flowers.”

It seems to work somewhat. Though perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised - he and Raven have always been strangely in sync.

“Wouldn’t be much good with the ladies if I didn’t know about little things like flowers, now would I?” he says, finally turning to face Yuri more fully. His eyes soften with mischief, and yet still seem tight with… well if Yuri had to put a name to it, he’d wager it was grief .

A half-joke then; his flower knowledge almost certainly learned on behalf of one lady, though he’d wager not women generally at all. After all, for all he seemed to enjoy playing the womaniser, his actions often seemed chosen to purposefully push them away if anything.

Yuri rolls his eyes in faux-annoyance. Raven smiles. It gets closer to meeting his eyes than he expected it to.

“I can’t imagine just throwing their names around is especially impressive. Seems more like the absolute bare minimum.” he says, hand coming to rest on a cocked hip. Raven’s smile widens, coaxed out of his shell somewhat by the familiar teasing routine.

“Ah, but whoever said I only knew their names?”

His eyebrows raise instinctively. To know flowers’ names is one thing, but any other details aren’t usually common knowledge; their language, how to arrange them, the best methodology for their care all usually things known solely by the upper echelons of society, or else those with enough money in their back pockets to take a chance on starting a related career.

“Don’t tell me…” he trails off, fixing Raven with a sceptical look. The old man’s face splits into a wide grin, hand coming up to flash a peace sign. Dork, his thinks impulsively as he huffs a laugh, surprised at the fond tone the word takes in his mind. Then quick as the cheer arrives it drops again, leaving the previous melancholic half-smile splayed across Raven’s face.

“These wouldn’t be much good in a bouquet though, pretty as they are. If bein’ deadly poisonous wasn’t enough, they’re usually used as a symbol of the forsaken. ” he muses, the last word spat like something dirty from his mouth.

“Who the hell would look at these and decide that? ” Yuri barks out. His expression must look as bewildered as he feels - Raven laughs at him, gentle but genuine.

“Yeah, it seems like a lot, right?” he says. His gaze drifts away from Yuri’s, losing focus and staring past him, through his shoulder. “She always liked them though, in spite of that.”

“...She?” he asks, carefully. He doesn’t want to sound eager, too nosey. Doesn’t want to push when the old man is this fragile. But he can’t help his curiosity - this is the first he’s mentioned of his past, the first clue to piecing together the admittedly fascinating mystery that is Raven. The man himself seems to realise it too, that with just one sentence he’s revealed a huge part of himself he hasn’t previously. Graciously, he doesn’t scramble to hide it away as Yuri might’ve expected.

“Ah. Old friend.” he says softly, as though divulging a secret. “She’s… gone now. But she was always a big fan of flowers. These weren’t her favourite but. She liked ‘em plenty.”

It slips out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

“Not like you to spill your past out in the open like this, old man.”

It takes all of his mental strength not to kick himself as Raven’s expression shutters, the nostalgia, longing , vanishing from his face in favour of something more carefully guarded. His eyes though, expressive as they are, can’t hide the pain.

“Ah. I suppose they got me feelin’ a little nostalgic. Forgive me.”

The silence stretches out between them for miles and miles as he watches Raven, Raven in turn watching the dancing laburnum above his head. His eyes flicker from bloom to bloom, as though cataloguing each one carefully, trying to commit their shape, their profile to memory. Yuri finds his eyes drawn to his lips as they purse, a gentle pout taut in a manner that gives away the nervous chewing of the inside of his mouth. His thick eyelashes fan over his cheekbones as he blinks, and Yuri hates the silence of the country, because it’s weird sappy shit like this that the bustle of the city helps him to avoid thinking about.

Raven’s a lot like these flowers , is the thought that springs to his mind, unprompted. And it’s ridiculous really. Completely nonsensical. The kind of thing Karol might come out with on a night where he’s overtired, that they’d all tease him for mercilessly until they pass out. But there’s nothing to distract him from it - he’s surrounded by the evidence, and the more he tries to ignore it the more sense it seems to make to him. The two parts of his brain war with each other, unrelenting, and he can feel the push and pull starting to show on his face.

Then a single blossom falls from the canopy above. It lands perfectly atop Raven’s bangs, perched there like a peepit in a tree, and he can’t fight the analogy anymore - Raven certainly looks forsaken, in that instant, the pain swimming in his eyes. And yet usually so bright and cheery, like the flower’s vibrant colouring, almost desperate for attention as he jokes around-- and then pushing people away, like a poison, when they try to get close. An exterior crafted to make you underestimate him, and yet a hidden strength, swift and deadly on the battlefield. A sunny disposition that washes over you like a summer rain, calming and refreshing.

He’s not sure anymore if the golden glow bouncing off Raven’s skin is from the flowers, or just simply the man himself.

A light breeze jostles the flower, and it slips from his hair. The strange shape hooks itself onto the crook of his nose and it wedges firmly, even as the wind picks up, cascading more petals down onto them both. Raven either ignores it, or doesn’t notice, his eyes falling closed as he lets nature wash over him.

He steps closer carefully, unthinkingly. He feels as a moth to a flame, though why he couldn’t say. He’s unfamiliar with the stirring in his chest that rises at the sight, doesn’t understand his compulsion to reach out, to touch Raven. To check he’s still solid and there, that he hasn’t been blown away on the currents of the wind like his namesake.

His hand reaches out, plucking the flower from Raven’s face gently. The old man startles instantly, eyes snapping open and meeting Yuri’s as he flicks the blossom to the floor. Raven’s eyes scan over him, looking for answers that he’s not sure he’ll find. Yuri certainly wouldn’t be able to explain if he were to ask. He simply looks between the sunken blue-green, carefully smoothing more fallen petals from Raven’s shoulders.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, voice practically a whisper beneath the howling of the breeze, far gentler than he’d expected it to be, “I think I understand why your friend liked them.”

Raven’s eyebrow cocks, ever so slightly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” he answers, lips quirking into a small smile, something genuine and raw and delicate that he doesn’t recall gracing his face before. “They’ve got a certain charm, I suppose.”

Raven’s breath hitches - he doesn’t hear it, only sees the narrowing of his nostrils, the bobbing of his Adam's apple. His eyes are so round, as the melancholy starts to subside slowly, leaving something inquisitive in his wake. It’s an expression he’s sure he’s seen on Repede before when he was younger, still training, still struggling with learning to sit on command, and it feels strange to compare Raven to a puppy, but it certainly isn’t the strangest thing that’s happened to him in the last 24 hours.

It feels like hours before Raven breaks his eyes away, anything raw and gentle immediately traded for bluster and jokes as he ducks his head.

“What’re you doin’ hangin’ out with me amidst the flowers anyway?” he asks, voice a little hoarse as his teasing lilt starts to creep back to him. “The others will start to talk if we keep havin’ these secret rendezvous, young man! How scandalous!”

He slaps his hand to his chest, feinting horror at their make-believe tryst. Yuri snorts, socking him lightly in the arm. Ridiculous as his jokes are, he can’t help but be pleased to see him return to some semblance of normalcy.

“I came to get you for dinner, dumbass. After that, you can feel free to go on ahead to Nordopolica.” he says, turning back around to lead the way to the others with a nod of his head.

Raven snickers at his own antics, hurrying to follow after him as he pulls a hurt expression.

“What, you wanna get rid of me so soon?”

“Wrong.” he snorts, head turned pointedly away in an effort to ignore his self-deprecating jokes. “I just wouldn't want you to miss the new moon and your chance to deliver the letter all on our account.”

The beat of silence that follows is just a touch too long for their usual banter. He turns back to Raven, worried momentarily that he’s run off again and he’ll be on a wild goose chase for the rest of the night, only to find him following attentively behind him. He’s looking at Yuri, expression… totally indecipherable to him for once, actually. It’s a rare occasion for him to have no idea what the old man is thinking.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow quirking. Raven simply smiles, wide and catlike.

“Oh, nothin’ important~” he sing-songs, taking over the lead in the moment Yuri pauses. “Honestly, I could do fine without your concern.”

Yuri scowls.

“Wrong again.” he says, moving to keep pace, their back-and-forth continuing until they arrive back at the inn, and the campfire their party has set up.

(He never does figure out what Raven’s expression had meant on that day, but when he finds the small laburnum branch tangled in his hair alongside the rhododendron the next morning, he quietly stows it away in the bottom of Karol’s bag, heart fluttering strangely in his chest)

-------------⇸

The speed at which Mantaic’s locals manage to throw the party together is honestly quite astounding.

The stalls of the inn concourse have cleared their tables of their wares, already starting to accumulate piles of local cuisine - barely an hour since the news of the Flynn Brigade’s arrival started to spread throughout the town, whispers abandoned in favour of joyous cries despite the extreme early hour, and already there’s a feast to rival one for a noble. People of all ages are wide awake and gleeful, even very young children who don’t fully understand what’s happening squealing with joy at seeing their parents’ and older siblings’ excitement.

The princess tries to help where she can (as always) - shakily carrying huge steaming pots to their directed positions, assisting in dragging tables out of homes to line the streets. Were Flynn not so busy tying up loose ends with the stragglers of the Cumore Brigade, Judith’s sure he’d be dancing around her like a mother hen. Instead, Karol and Rita have become his stand-ins, getting roped into helping themselves albeit minus Estelle’s unshakeable enthusiasm.

She’s glad everything turned out okay in the end. It had been with great unease that they’d all drifted off to sleep the night before, distressed at their powerlessness, their lack of time. Battling with the princess’s impulsivity had been hard, especially in the presence of her big round eyes and quivering lips, but a necessary evil. There really wasn’t anything they could’ve done. Judith remains firm in her belief - it would be impossible to rehabilitate a man like Cumore in jail. Even with the combined influence of Flynn and Estelle, the strength of their idealism and naïveté, a man as corrupt as he would never conform to concepts like morals and ethics. He would only change in death.

The man’s fall from grace, while certainly better than allowing him to run amok, does little to satisfy her in all honesty. The townspeople, however, just seem glad to be free of his clutches, regardless of the flaws in the Empire’s justice system. She can’t blame them really - she’s sure she’d feel the same in their shoes, the ever-lingering threat of death by dehydration or being eaten alive finally lifted from their shoulders.

She’s glad for the lifting of the tense air that had settled over their travelling party the night before. That there’s a smile on Estelle’s face again is good too. For the sake of the guild, nothing more , she scolds herself mentally, quashing the leap in her chest as the baby blues smile in her direction.

She finds herself counted as one of the old souls on this occasion; the small group who are extremely pleased for the turn of events and the freedom of the people, but are either too tired or consider themselves too uninvested to actually lend a hand. Raven is a regular to this group, fucked as his sleeping pattern is, and it doesn't surprise her as much as she thought it would that Patty too sits among them.

Yuri sitting back, however, is new.

Something is off with him. Something has been off with him since… well, certainly since their discovery of Cumore's little scheme. He’s never been the most talkative of their group, a man of relatively few words until it comes to snide jibes and teasing, or else rallying speeches to raise morale or call outs for something he perceives to be an injustice.

(She’d say he was self-righteous - but then, by that same line of thinking, isn’t she also?)

His usual quietude has never felt like this though - dense and oppressive like thunderclouds, holding a tension that, if referred to, threatens to strike like lightning, harsh and quick and painful. It’s possible he’d just slept badly, but she doubts it. She and Yuri are painfully alike at the best of times and in this, it seems, they continue to be.

Yes, for Yuri, the biggest champion of justice among them, to still be so tense, so incredibly on edge… It’s extremely telling.

The only one who seems to have noticed Yuri’s torment other than her (and his faithful pooch) is, of course, Raven. It’s no surprise - he’s always kept a close eye on Yuri, in the time she’s known them. She’d heard tell that the Don had taken an interest in Yuri when he’d met him, in a way usually foreign to him in regards to newcomers. Normally it would be years - years of hard work, of craft and contributions in the name of the guilds, for the man to so much as glance in your direction, let alone learn your name (understandably so for so busy and powerful a man). Yet Yuri had waltzed in and garnered his full attention in the space of a few hours, at best.

That Raven has clearly been instructed to stake him out, in addition to his apatheia hunt, feels natural. Less so is a good chunk of what he actually seems to be observing about Yuri - she’s sure the Don would much rather see a report on his fighting capabilities, his disposition, the flexibility of his morality in a pinch, than whatever he’s gleaning by staring at his back when he takes his shirt off, or watching the flow of his hair in the desert breeze.

(That is, however, a report she would quite like to read, if for nothing more than watching the burn of Raven’s ears at the request)

This morning, however, the eye he keeps on him is careful. Though the ever-present catlike smirk that plays over his lips remains, there’s something considering to his gaze - a scheme in the works but not those of his usual calibre. Nothing designed to rile Rita, fluster Estelle or make the kids laugh (though she’s sure if he can tie his usual goals into whatever he’s concocting then he certainly won’t shy away at the chance).

If she had to guess at his intentions, she’d have thought--

The blaring of a horn throws her suddenly from her train of thought - the celebrations are brought instantly into full swing by a makeshift band of passing guildsmen throwing their own contributions into the mix. Judith doesn’t consider herself a big listener of music, in all honesty, but she’d be hard pressed not to recognise the juxtaposed staccatos and legatos characteristic of Dahngrestian swing - while lesser known within Empire towns like this one, the style is famous the world over.

She hasn’t had many opportunities to join in with the festivities the guilds are known for throwing, where dancers step and twirl faster than the barkeeps can pour drinks (and really, isn’t that an impressive thought, considering the drinking culture in Dahngrest?) She’s bore witness to their local dancing customs only once or twice, and never within the heart of the city itself, and she knows with certainty that while her footwork on the battlefield might be immaculate, she has two left feet for dancing - would certainly never dare to attempt swing. She has great sympathy for the townsfolk who, while enraptured by the melody, feet tapping along jovially, seem as though they don’t know quite what to do with it.

Altosk’s second, on the other hand, is ecstatic. He barks a delighted laugh that startles Patty, almost jostling her from the table she’s perched upon, and finally momentarily draws Yuri from his reverie. She watches, amused, as he throws Yuri’s grumpy, inquisitive look a wink before springing to his feet.

“Hey, kid!” he calls, flagging Karol down as he heads to the middle of the concourse. Their illustrious guild master looks up from the mabo curry bun he’s attempting to swallow whole, wide-eyed. Raven grins, crooked and gummy in a way she’s come to associate with his mischief.

��Why don’t we show these lovely folks how it’s done, as thanks for their hospitality?”

Karol is practically vibrating at the concept. In a flash he’s pulling off his gloves and whipping his bag over his head, dumping the pile in Rita’s lap (eliciting, of course, an incredibly over the top yelp of annoyance). He scarfs down the remnants of the bun as he hops over the table he’s sat at, scampering over to Raven in a manner that does nothing to hide his enthusiasm.

“You better not stand all over my feet, Raven!” he calls as he draws closer, face pulling into a pout that doesn’t quite ring true. The noise Raven makes in response is rather like that of a strangled cat.

“The nerve o’ kids these days!” he bemoans, pinching his sinuses with a shake of his head. “I’ll have you know yours truly is the pride of Altosk! Ya won’t find a better dancer in all o’ Dahngrest, not even the Don himself!”

“Uhu, suuuure. ” Karol drawls, disbelieving, as he comes to a stop by his side.

It’s as he does that Raven ducks his head close to the boy, hand a shield to cover whatever he says. His words are inaudible, but if Karol’s terrible attempts at hiding his furtive glances in Yuri’s direction are anything to go by, Judith would have to guess it’s something about whatever Raven’s scheming for Brave Vesperia’s second.

The band seems to catch wind of their plans, slowing the jaunty tune down to allow the two to begin. Karol dusts his hands off on his trousers bashfully, ridding himself of any remnants of curry, before taking Raven’s hand in his. Their movements start off slow and creeping, almost unnatural to watch, but it quickly becomes apparent to her that they’re motions meant to teach rather than for actual dancing - an enunciated display of footwork for the surrounding beginners as they take their time to get a feel for each other as dance partners.

And then, Raven taking Karol’s waist, they begin in earnest. Movements still slow, but now fluid as water, they begin to turn around one another in the style she vaguely recognises, and while she knows nothing about dancing, it’s clear that they’re extremely good. They match each other's timing perfectly, not a step out of place, and she could believe they were gliding if not for the dust their footsteps kick up.

Karol is good, of course, especially for a kid of his age (she wonders idly if he might’ve had a brief foray in a dancing guild, prior to joining the Hunting Blades), but Raven is really something else. She’s never seen a man able to move his hips in such a way, sashaying in a way that’s frankly a little hypnotising - if she thought he were truly interested in her, then this’d definitely be enough to make her begin to consider his earlier flirtations more seriously. It’s frankly criminal, she thinks, that his trousers and jacket do so much to obscure his ass.

As they become more comfortable, they begin to ramp it up a little - they take it in turns to twirl one another, alternating between wide sweeping arcs, Raven displaying his extreme flexibility to twist beneath Karol’s arm, to fast tight twirls that almost remind her of Rita’s casting motions. For these, Karol spins so quickly she’s surprised he doesn’t completely lose balance and land face first in the dirt. Instead he simply laughs jovially, really getting into the spirit of it and losing himself to the music. Raven’s responding smile is fond, like a father watching their kid, and she could almost believe they’ve both forgotten about their ulterior motives, if not for how Raven keeps glancing in their direction every other time he’s facing their way.

It’s as Estelle drags Rita out to join them, accompanied by a group of the locals, that Judy feels something ugly snare her heart and promptly takes the opportunity to cast a considering glance instead to Patty and Yuri. The smaller is bouncing where she sits, gleefully watching the dancers - she seems antsy to join in, if only she could find a spare partner who wouldn’t accidentally crush her.

Yuri surprises her - while he might not be completely out of his funk, he’s watching more attentively than she previously expected. She gazes at him curiously for a while as he leans his head on his hand, watching the Dahngrestian pair’s increasing frenzy. Karol’s giggles are near constant, and Raven’s been infected by his happiness, laughing obnoxiously himself. The creases of Yuri’s eyes tighten, even as the rest of his face fails to emote, as his eyes seem to lock on Raven’s face and stay there. She smiles.

“Ahem.” she coughs, sharp and decidedly fake. Yuri and Patty both are startled away from the party, turning to her. She raises her eyebrows pointedly at the former, coy smirk rising to her lips. His eyes widen in response, as Patty turns confusedly to look at him, before he flusters, turning away from the party entirely. She laughs.

It’s at that moment that Karol comes spinning towards them, hand freed from Raven’s grasp at last. His smile is blinding, and he’s struggling to catch his breath, but he still seems to be full of energy as Raven follows behind him.

“Patty, you probably know a bit of swing, right?” he asks her, real question thinly veiled by his proffered hand.

She’s a clever lass, though. “Hah! Of course I do, matey!” she declares, grabbing it firmly and pulling him back out into the street.

Raven watches them go fondly, before turning to her. With a flourish, he bows to her, graceful as a knight but with none of the prim and proper charm.

“Judy, my darlin’, could I convince ya to honour ol’ Raven with a dance?”

His eyes never leave hers as he asks, gaze sharp and lacking all pretense of genuine flirting.

Ah, so that’s his game is it?

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly!” she declares exaggeratedly, hand to her chest. “Not when Yuri so clearly wants to instead!”

The effect is instant. She barely has time to note the twitch of Yuri’s ears at the sound of his name before his head whips around to look at them.

“Hu- what?”

Raven springs back upright, throwing his hand up to clutch at his own chest.

“Yuri, darlin’, if you wanted to dance with me then all you had to do was say so! No need to make Judy do all yer dirty work for ya!”

He closes the gap between them in a matter of steps, as Yuri’s face grows more panicked by the second.

“Wh-- no, what?! Judy, no, I can’t dance , JU--!!”

She smiles as Raven takes him by the hand and tugs him away. Yuri’s expression reminds her of a bunwigle, caught unaware in the middle of the night, backed into a corner with no escape. It’s incredibly endearing, and certainly a nice change from the faux-apathy he’s been stewing in.

As they move away she watches as Raven’s expression transforms from mischievous to something more careful, considerate. He doesn’t guide Yuri to the middle of the crowd as she’d expected, where their friends spin with reckless abandon, but instead to a quieter area of the dancing space. Yuri seems just as confused as she feels, more than likely expecting Raven to have humiliated him with his lack of skill. They’re far enough away that whatever the older man says to reassure him is lost to her, but he smiles and takes Yuri’s hands gently.

Her heart swells at the careful way Raven teaches him, easily pulls him out of his darker thoughts and concentrates his mind on something else. Yuri doesn’t strike her as the sort to let himself be taken care of, but she doubts he even realises that’s what’s happening - probably sees it instead as some sort of challenge. It’s nice. She might not have known him long, but she feels close to him in a way she hasn’t felt with another person for… a good ten years, she’d wager. She’d forgotten what it felt like, to see good things happen to someone you care about.

He trips over Raven’s feet often, but Raven doesn’t let him get self-conscious about it - instead exaggeratedly pretending to trip himself in a way that allows Yuri to chip in and tease him. When there’s one failed attempt too many and Yuri attempts to break away, he simply pulls him back in, closer, and looks him in the eyes.

(She feels a little bad for still watching, personal and intimate as the moment is becoming, but it’s hard to find anything else interesting at this point)

“What is it I always say when I’m fightin’, Yuri?” she can just about hear the old man say over the wail of the trombone.

Yuri’s tone is monotonous, even as his face starts to rise into an affectionate smirk.

“‘Ooo, eee, ow, my back hurts?’” he says, quirked eyebrow a dead giveaway for his bullying. He receives a light slap to his arm for his trouble that leaves him laughing openly in a way she… hasn’t actually seen from him in the time she’s known him.

Huh.

“That it’s just like dancin’, ya dolt!” he says. He laces their fingers carefully before starting to move once more through the basic steps. “You’ll see what I mean before long.”

After a few more failed attempts, Yuri finally starts to figure it out. He still steps on Raven’s toes more often than not, but it’s to be expected for a newbie in the face of a dance as rapid as swing - she’s quite impressed at how fast he’s picked it up in all honesty. He’s already doing a damned sight better than Rita, whose motions are still awkward and stiff as she’s twirled by Estelle (though she looks to be having the time of her life, in spite of it).

They look very sweet together, in all honesty. It’s the most she’s seen either of them relax in front of other people - Yuri’s snark is quickly abandoned as he starts to really get into the swing of it, and most of Raven’s jokes and teasing go along with it. They’re just a couple of normal guys in their own little world, dancing together beneath the rising sun, looking genuinely happy for once. Watching them laughing together, she finds her own spirits raised too, even as she continues to sit to one side like a wallflower.

And she’s glad she did. If she hadn’t, she’d have missed out on this potentially one-time-only sight of Yuri’s carefree smile. Would’ve never seen the sudden change in Yuri’s demeanor as he looks up at Raven mid-spin, eyes widening, before his expression becomes suddenly raw.

He’s not watching his feet at all any more - he’s just going with the flow, and reading Raven’s movements and they’re incredibly in sync to say Yuri has all of 10 minutes of experience. It’s strange to think it, but he seems to be having fun , doing something other than fighting, even despite his mess ups. Yuri’s uncharacteristically crooked smile, as his eyes never leave Raven’s, is blindingly beautiful, and piques her curiosity.

Before today, when she’d seen the admiring glances the Raven had sent his way, she’d have thought he was barking up the completely wrong tree. Now though (although she doubts Yuri’s realised the way he’s starting to look at the old man) she’s really not so sure.

Then the moment is gone.

Behind her, she hears him. Flynn, barking orders to his brigade, accompanied by the protests of the now-bound followers of Cumore. And in that exact instant, Yuri stops stock-still. Raven goes crashing into him, frantically apologising and trying to check he’s okay, but it’s as though he isn’t there. Yuri just stares past her to Flynn, eyes wide and unseeing but… terrified , if she had to take a guess.

She can hear Raven call to him as he slips his hands free from his grip, and he looks up glancingly. He mutters something, what she can only imagine is some excuse, or a few words of apology, before he’s stalking off towards the inn and shutting the door behind him briskly.

Raven, standing alone and off to one side, looks very small in that instant. Like he doesn’t know quite where he went wrong, what he could’ve possibly done differently.

Perhaps, just this once, she can take pity on him. After all, if there’s anyone who can fix her left feet…

Standing and smoothing down her skirts, she heads over to him, taking his hand, and he startles. His big blue eyes look up at her, puppy-like, and it’s like Estelle the night before all over again. She sighs, already regretting her question before she asks.

“Is the offer still open?”

He smiles. Solemn. But it’s a start.

me, age 12: haha yeah raven blatantly has a thing for yuri and i love them together, but i guess there isn't much to imply yuri likes him back huh me, age 24, seeing the 'Happy Birthday' skit for the first time and learning the Very Specific Age Gap between Yuri and his first ever crush: a

ftr no one in the vesperia party is cishet no i will not take questions

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tiaramaki · 3 years

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Is it always God's will for Christians to be healed?

I've seen all three sides of this issue from various people and denominations, and there's some arguments that can make sense from two of them. It is pretty difficult to word the short answer, since if I say it wrong, I risk either sounding like one of the "everything is good and rainbows" preachers, or a heretic that believes that healing is unbiblical and we sin if we wish for good health at all.

Ultimately, from some interpretations of scripture and testimonies from other ministers and people and myself, I would have to say "Like many prayers, whether we receive healing or not depends on circumstances and certain factors; however, even though healing isn't always obtained, He will never place a sickness on Christians Himself". Let me explain.

When we do see Christ healing the people in the New Testament, He: a) does express His will for healing in Matthew 8:3 with the leper (and touching him to heal, to boot), b) expresses that some people had gained the healing they wished through their faith (the woman with the issue of blood in Matthew 9:20-22/Mark 5:27-34; the centurion with the servant in Matthew 8:8-10,13; the blind beggar in Luke 18:40-42; the blind men in Matthew 9:27-30), c) although interestingly, He also does this for the people in Nazareth in Mark 6:4-6 despite their lack of faith in Him (although healing is not mentioned in Matthew 13:58's account of that moment).

We also have had healings in the New Testament after Christ's ascension, such as with Paul in Acts 28:8 and Peter in Acts 3:6. We also see instructions such as James 5:14-16 for those who are sick.

1 Peter 2:24 is one verse I've seen and heard many times that's used for the argument of healing being His will for us. Some people have put forth arguments of it meaning a physical healing, others a spiritual kind of healing in relation to our salvation. The older Greek word that's translated as "you were/are/have been healed" (depending on your translation), ἰαθῆτε, also is used in James 5:16. The root word of this Greek verb, which is ἰάομαι, which has two definitions according to the Strong's lexicon. One is "to make whole; to free from errors and sins, to bring about (one's) Salvation"; the other is "to cure, heal", thus both. And all variations of this word in the older Greek appears in the various verses I've already provided where physical healings have occurred (in fact, it seems more like the majority of variations are in relation to physical healing, 26 compared to the spiritual's 2 in the KJV according to Blue Letter Bible).

So from the looks of things, it seems that healing is something that God would see as good for us to have, since He has done it quite a bit in the New Testament. But not every prayer for supernatural healing is answered with that healing (I can count myself for two examples). So what would the circumstances and factors be for not receiving healing if we've asked for it?

One possible factor can be a level of faith. That's not to say that you don't have any faith whatsoever if your healing doesn't come, but different people have different levels of faith; some people need to build their faith to higher points to get a certain level of healing, like how one may do exercises to strengthen certain muscles. It's more of how we think about "big" vs "little" healings: diabetes we consider bigger than just a bad scrape on our knee in our natural minds (just to give an example) so to us, a higher level of faith could be needed. Jude 1:20 comes to mind for the instruction of building one's faith up. As for the level of faith, Matthew 17:19-21 is one example (the sickness came from a demon possessing the boy, and the healing came after it was driven out; the disciples could not drive it out themselves because, in Christ's own words, their lack of faith). For my circumstances with my health, I would say I have some need to build my faith a little further, especially considering my own fears I have because of them. I may say to myself that I have a strong enough faith, but sometimes even the words that I say regarding them make me realize I have some way to go before I get to that mustard seed level.

A second possible reason is the motive for your wish for healing. I'm going to be optimistic and say that the vast majority of prayers for healing are for good reasons and quality of life for us. But there are some reasons that can be sinful--say that someone with eyesight problems wants healing for "staring at cute girls/boys" (unironically), or to have stomach problems go away just to eat outside of moderation, or to take revenge or hurt someone. Having been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes three years ago (with it developing sometime before that), it's brought on a lot of worries and sadness and fear for me, but it also has taught me the importance of eating in moderation through a less-than-ideal circumstance; my one uncertainty is, am I disciplined enough that when/if my healing comes, will I continue eating well on my own?

Another possibility is that the physical or mental condition one has could be used to help lead another to salvation, or to help oneself be or staying strong in the faith. Say that one has an illness that requires going to a place where many people are. There are opportunities to help bring the others to Christ, or to even build up another's faith through discussion, and no one else would be a better candidate for that. Or for another example, even though Asperger's Syndrome is something that's hindered me socially in many many ways (and I do gripe about it quite a bit), it's likely been why I've been so adamant about my beliefs and my faith (even though I'm sure it's been a headache to some people).

A mighty work can be done even without healing taking place or it being done when the ailment has progressed, which could lead others into salvation that way. Take, for example, Lazarus, who did not receive healing while living. Instead, Christ brought him back from the dead, and that miracle would surely bring people to believe in Him as Messiah, if not glorify God.

It could also be an exercise in patience on His timing as well. A lot of us nowadays could be reasonably considered as impatient because of how our cultures are and how we want things to happen as soon as we want them to. Luke 11:10 comes to mind; keep asking, keep seeking, keep knocking even if it doesn't come to you in the timeframe you've set for it to be there.

This factor I've only known about through one minister's secondhand testimony (which is why I've listed it as last), but it's something that I think needs to be added to the list: if, after healing is obtained, the Christian may turn away from the faith for good, in which case God would see it better for that one to leave the world while still being saved. But this is a very rare circumstance, so certainly don't panic and immediately think this may be your reasons for not having received healing.

I'm sure there are other factors that may come into play, but these are all that I can think of so far. But don't lose faith if healing hasn't arrived; just because a package hasn't come in yet doesn't mean you'll never get it. He can also use your circumstances for good, whether for yourself or for others.

However, I will say one thing, and this relates to the last point of the short answer: whatever your physical or mental ailment may be, God did not put it on you. We live in a fallen world, where sickness and disease had come in by way of Original Sin. Even Christ said, "'What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead...? Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion?'" (Luke 11:11-12). God did not force my body to develop type 2 diabetes (that was my fault) or for me to be Aspergic (that was the fault of the natural world being as broken as it is). He does not give you or your family members cancer, or force unborn children to be miscarried, or made me get Covid to "help save someone from someplace far away through my suffering". But people who do say stuff like that (that one post about healing came to mind, and it drove me into a rage because of that one person saying stuff to that effect), we're making Him to be the thing that many, many unbelievers assume Him to be, a God that puts suffering onto us despite living our lives to Him. There's a difference between "what was done for evil, God will use for good" and "God gave this evil to you for the sake of good."

Sorry this took so long. Like I said before, I might not have covered everything (I've been working on this so long I'm starting to get hungry, oops), so I apologize if I missed anything.

#asks #tiara talks #tiara's christian theology longpost tiem

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heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years

Text

And They Were Roommates (Bryce Lahela x MC)

Summary: A surprise leads to a major shift in Bryce and Casey’s relationship

A/N: Eeeek, this is my first time ever writing a Bryce x MC fic! The day you guys see me writing something not Ethan centric is the day you should play the lotto because it’s more rare than a unicorn sighting.

Anywho....please enjoy!

Tags: @drakewalker04 @canknot @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @maurine07 @badchoicesposts @ermidc @sundaescreamcheese @danijimenezv @starrystarrytrouble @the-pale-goddess @gogotomago95 @have-aheart @aworldoffandoms @zaffrenotes @anotherbeingsworld @to-fangirl-or-not-to-fangirl @nazariolahela @the-unconquered-queen @writinghereandthere @omgjasminesimone @parkerattano @silent-storms-posts

~v~

“Okay, are we going out to lunch?” Casey asks, twisting her fingers into her skirt. From the passenger seat of Bryce’s car, the bustling streets of Boston fly past her. A tendril of her curly hair whips around in the wind, settling on her lip as it sticks to her tacky lip gloss. Bryce is a freaking speed demon and drives too fast for her liking.

But she does like looking at him when he’s behind the wheel. His grip on the wheel is relaxed, much like his posture, slouched low in the seat, right hand drumming against the gear shift. While it’s still winter, the sun is shining brightly, making the highlights in his hair and the light dusting of freckles adorning his nose stand out. Her boyfriend—even thinking that word makes her giddy—makes a pretty sight to behold.

“No, that’s not the plan. But we can go get food once we’re done,” Bryce answers..

“Ice skating?” Casey guesses. She watches as he shakes his head. “But ice skating sounds so fun.”

“We can go ice skating some other time, Case.”

“We’re going to the movies?”

Bryce chuckles. She’s been trying to guess all morning what he has planned for the day, and despite getting every single guess wrong, Casey comes up with another one at the drop of a hat. The persistence is admirable. “You’ll find out soon enough. Stop being so nosy.”

Casey pouts, feigning hurt. “I resent that! I prefer to be called naturally inquisitive. It makes me sound smart.”

“You’re nosy,” Bryce deadpans. “But don’t fret, we’ll be there in like, 5 minutes tops.”

He’s been excited from the moment he told her to get dressed, and Casey can see that his leg is bouncing up and down underneath the steering wheel. Whatever he has planned, he’s really excited about it, so Casey decided to keep quiet and enjoy the rest of the ride.

They enjoy the rest of the short ride, Casey scrolling through Bryce’s different Spotify playlists until she settles on the perfect song, but he’s pulling in and parking his car before she can even hit play.

An apartment complex was not what she was expecting to see. It’s a very nice apartment complex, located a few blocks away from Boston University. Casey can see the college students milling around, some adults walking their dogs, a few older more established couples, some with kids, some without going in and out of the building.

Now her curiosity is piqued. Is Bryce dragging her along to some surgeon friend’s apartment? Is this his idea of a Saturday adventure? Granted, he never promised her an adventure, just a surprise, and while she likes most of his surgical cohort, she’d rather be doing something else. Nonetheless, Casey doesn’t say anything, letting Bryce intertwine their fingers and lead her through the building.

They ride up the elevator in silence until they reach the 4th floor. It isn’t until Bryce reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key do the alarms go off on her brain. “Bryce? Did you–”

“I got a new apartment!” Bryce exclaims, cutting her off. “Surprise!”

Once the door is open, he’s pulling her in, his excitement palpable. Casey looks around the place. It’s unfurnished, the hardwood floors beneath them bright and freshly waxed. And even though she hasn’t looked around, she can already tell it’s much larger than his current 1 bedroom.

“Oh...wow,” is all that manages to come out of her mouth.

“I know! It’s in Keiki’s school district, thank god. And it’s a brand new unit, all stainless steel appliances, marble and quartz countertops, which are apparently huge deals when you’re apartment hunting. In-unit washer and dryer, walk-in closets, there’s a gym and a pool downstairs, a game room–”

Casey watches him as his animatedly rattles off all of the features in the apartment. His face is flush, pink with excitement, his words are breathless and tumbling out of his mouth all at once. She takes a step forward, cupping his face between both hands. “Bryce, I think you should stop and breathe.”

The command makes him flush hard, now from embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You can continue now.”

“That was pretty much it. The main draw is that it’s a two bedroom, two bathroom apartment, so I don’t have to sleep on the couch anymore. Now Keiki and I will each have our own space. Do you think she’ll like it?”

“Will the 15 year old girl like having her own room, and not having to share a bathroom with her older brother?” Casey nods. “Absolutely. Keiki is a lucky duck.” She takes a few steps further into the apartment, silently appraising it. It’s beautiful from what she can see, and she hasn’t even seen the bedrooms. “Question: how are you affording this place? You’re a surgical resident, living in Boston is expensive, and I’m pretty sure Sallie Mae is eating most of your paychecks.”

Bryce looks down at his feet, shuffling them back and forth much to Casey’s dismay. He’s going to scuff the floors doing that. “I uh...I talked to my parents.”

“When?”

“A little over a month ago, before I enrolled Keiki in school. I called my parents and gave them quite the earful about not contacting Keiki once since she’s been in Boston, and I kinda let them have it. Turns out I’ve been holding in a lot of pent up...stuff regarding my parents.”

Casey’s eyes soften at his confession. They hardly ever have conversations about his parents, and when they do, it’s never good. “You want to talk about it?”

Bryce shakes his head, memories of that conversation trying to bubble to the surface. His mother tried her hand at making awkward small talk as if they hadn’t gone years without talking, while his father said nothing at all. He bites the inside of his cheek, willing the bad memory to go away. Negative thoughts of his parents don’t need to invade this space. “Nah, it’s not important.”

Resisting the urge to call bullshit, Casey simply nods. “Agree to disagree, Bry. But we’ll table it for now and just continue your story.”

He’s grateful that she’s willing to listen, but not pushy enough to force him to talk, leaving the ball in his court. “Long story short, I told them that Keiki is welcome to stay with me in Boston and I wouldn’t make it public news that they all but abandoned their daughter and drag social services into things, if they allowed me to be her legal caregiver.”

“Really?”

“Yup. So I can be in charge of her education and medical decisions while she’s out here. It’s less permanent than me filing her guardianship, and my parents still legally have rights, but it makes things easier. And because of that, my parents are giving me a pretty generous monthly allowance for all of her expenses. Housing, food, school supplies, the works.”

“So child support?”

“Pretty much, yes. I didn’t ask for it, but the Lahelas like to throw money at their problems. Some of that money goes towards the rent here, the rest I put in a savings account for Keiki. I’ll gift her the money when she starts college, so she’ll have a bit of a nest egg, and won’t be dependent on ramen noodles and the McDermot’s dollar menu like I was.”

Bryce shoves his hands into his pockets and looks at Casey, trying to gauge her reaction. “I know I dumped a lot on you, and you probably think I’m insane for taking all of this on but–”

Casey wraps her arms around his waist and cuts him off with a quick kiss. “If I could look at you with literal heart eyes right now, I would.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She leans forward, resting her head against the solid expanse of his chest. The faint scent of his laundry detergent and his cologne invade her senses, and she relishes in it. He smells like comfort, if there was ever such a thing. “I can’t believe you accomplished all of this in such a short period of time.”

“Well my lease was up, and I was trying to get Keiki situated in school, and it all sort of fell into place at the right time.”

“Stop trying to downplay it,” Casey orders. “You are strong, and brave, and you take initiative in any situation. I don’t know too many 27 year olds that would spring into action and volunteer to raise their teenage sisters, all while being a resident and trying to juggle their own personal life.”

The way she says it, the awe and idolatry in her voice makes his stomach flip. Bryce considers himself to be a pretty self-assured guy. He has a healthy level of self esteem, but something about Casey praising him always causes him to short circuit, without fail. “You make it sound so much cooler than it really is.”

“It is cool,” Carey argues. “You’re doing a noble thing, so let me give you compliments you deserve.”

He doesn’t meet her eyes immediately, the bashfulness still holding him tight. Eventually, Bryce looks up at her, her expression open and earnest. “You make me sound so much better than I really am.”

Casey grabs hold of his sweater and tugs him closer, forcing him to crane forward and be at her eye level. “Mhmm, it’s a hidden talent of mine. I happen to be an excellent salesperson.”

Bryce smirks, their lips barely brushing against each other, and mumbles “You’re such a dork,” before capturing her in a kiss. Casey responds instantly, matching his eagerness and fervor. It doesn’t take long for things to get more heated, his tongue slipping into her mouth, hands going to grip her waist.

She breaks to kiss to inhale sharply. “You’ve lived here for 5 minutes and you’re already trying to defile the place.”

“Can’t help it. You make me feel like a horny teenager again, baby.”

“Well stop it.”

Bryce rolls his eyes. “You’re no fun.”

“Come on loverboy, show me around. Give me the grand tour.”

They wander around the apartment at a leisurely pace, Casey pointing out all of the different things Bryce could buy to furnish the place—“What do you mean you’ve never gone to Home Goods?”—and admonishing his idea to shop on Craigslist. He’s an adult, not a college freshman, and his home should reflect that.

“You want to know what the best part is?” Bryce asks, leading Casey back to their starting point, the living room.

“What?”

“Keiki’s bedroom is on the other side of the apartment, separated by a pretty sizable living room.”

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and she shoves at his chest, laughing. “And? Are you trying to say something?”

“Yeah, that one of us—you—can be pretty loud at times.”

Her cheeks heat up and she blushes furiously. “Well I’ll make sure to keep it quiet on the nights that I sleep over.”

“What if you didn’t just spend the night over here?”

He instantly regrets the way he phrased that sentence because it sounds like he just told her he doesn’t want her in his apartment. Casey frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Sorry! That sounded weird.” He flushes, stumbling over his words. Something about Casey Valentine makes him very nervous. “That’s not what I meant, I promise.”

Bryce grabs both of Casey’s hands, holding them close to his chest. “Move in with me.”

Her eyes widen at the suggestion. He wants to do what? “What?”

“I spent all of last year tiptoeing around our relationship, trying to keep things light and breezy when I really didn’t want that. And it took you being in that...horrible accent for me to finally reveal the full extent of my feelings for you. Now that we’re together and official, I don’t want to waste any more time.”

“I would like to go to sleep with you every night, your ice cold feet pressed against my legs, and your curly hair tickling my nose because you’ve invaded my side of the bed. And I want to wake up to you every morning, because even though you think you look crazy in the morning, I think you’re absolutely beautiful. I want us to cook together every day, or just you because you’re a much better cook than I am.” Casey giggles at his jokes, which only spur him on further. “Besides Keiki, you’re the most important person I have, and I want you here with me, permanently.”

When Casey doesn’t say anything immediately, Bryce understands. He just dropped a bomb—a few bombs actually—right at her feet, she needs time to process. But the silence stretches until it grows into something long and uncomfortable, and a thin sheen of sweat forms at Bryce’s hairline. Did he just shoot himself in the foot? Did he seriously overestimate her feelings for him, and the nature of their relationship?

Before he can open his mouth to renege on the invitation, Casey speaks. “We’re going to have to talk to your landlord, or the property manager, because a new lease needs to be drawn up.”

“W-what?”

“I mean, I assume it’s just you and Keiki listed on the lease, and I don’t want to just be a permanent guest staying in your apartment. I want it to be our apartment, so I need to be on the lease agreement,” Casey explains. “And I know you said your parents cover most of the rent on this place, but I want to contribute, so I guess I’ll be in charge of the–”

She doesn’t get to finish talking because Bryce is on her in an instant, his mouth crashing into hers in a fiery kiss. His fingers dig into her hips, walking her backwards until her back bumps into the kitchen island. In a quick show of strength, Bryce lifts her onto the island, and Casey has to break the kiss to hiss.

“Shit, that’s cold!”

“Sorry baby.” He’s not the least bit sorry, flashing her his signature smirk. “I’ll warm you up.”

“And you say I’m the dorky one,” Casey teases, laughing as Bryce kisses her between each word.

“You are,” he insists, kissing down her neck. She squirms away from him as his lips find a particularly sensitive spot, but he holds her in place. “We bring that out in each other.”

He kisses her a few more times, some softer than others, some so deep, she feels dizzy when he pulls away.

“We’re really going to do this?” Casey asks rhetorically. “This whole living together thing?”

“We are. I asked, and you said yes, so you’re stuck with me, little lady.”

There’s a smile on his face, so huge, Casey really thinks he might blind her with his pearly white teeth. She hasn’t seen him this relaxed, this unabashedly happy in a while. She can’t help but to smile back.

“You have to let me have creative control on furniture and decorations though.”

“This apartment is going to look like a furniture store magazine spread.”

Casey nods. “It’ll smell like the inside of a Bath & Body Works store in here, too.”

“You’re going to go crazy on the candles, aren’t you?”

“Oh absolutely. They also have cute wall plug-ins.”

Bryce laughs. “I don’t care. You and Keiki can do whatever you want to the place.”

“Mhmm, now you’re talking my language, Lahela.”

They talk excitedly, basking in the fun that this new journey is going to bring their relationship. They don’t know how much time has passed when the conversation finally dwindles down.

“Hey, Bryce?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you let me down from here?” Casey asks, gesturing to the countertop. Bryce has her caged in, arms on either side of her. “Despite your best efforts to warm me up with a make-out session, this thing is freezing cold.”

“No one told you to wear a mini skirt like this in winter, you naughty school girl.”

“I resent that! This skirt is very cute, and it would’ve looked even cuter had you taken me ice skating.”

Bryce rolls his eyes. He’s gonna have to take this girl to the ice skating rink, and soon. He trails his hands up and down her legs, taking in all the goosebumps that have popped up on her smooth skin.

“You want to know where this skirt would look even better?”

“Where?”

Gripping the backs of her thighs, Bryce lifts Casey off of the countertop and into his arms. “The floor of our new bedroom.”

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #open heart #bryce lahela #dr. bryce lahela #bryce x mc

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