#gave me the label out of convenience. not that we weren’t actually friends (at least I hope we were DHHDV) but. idk!! I literally yearned

[shuahoonie]

out of love [tom holland]

PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader 

SUMMARY: being close friends with your ex is fine, right? even if your love for them was unparalleled among others. even if you were still in the process of moving on from them. even if you know they’re happy with someone else. even if you have no clue whether they loved you like you loved them. 

WARNINGS: foul language, so much angst, it starts ok at first then goes downhill from there. i literally write things on the go so i don’t know if this will have fluff at some point 

(if it does and i didn’t state it here, send me a cute photo of tom and a message of: ok wow she pulled thru 🤪; and if it doesn’t have fluff, send me a meme and a message of: miss girl i simply cannot today ✋😃)  

WORD COUNT: 5.6k 

A/N: hello! tonight, we are going to be sad!!! i know i usually like to write about all things fluff, but this?? this is just for me because i am having one of those episodes. i just need to feel something again aside from the stress of writing 3 academic papers per week lmao. i’m def not expecting people to like this type of vibe but yannoe. i apologize in advance. 

this is inspired by that one episode from new girl (season 6 x ep 16)

gif credits: @thollandgifs​ 

vanessa’s masterlist | taglist form | part two - pandemonium ​​

“You know, you can still live with us right?” Your friend Maia commented as she placed the box, labelled “fine china that mom gave me but will i ever use them?”, on the kitchen island. 

“I know,” You murmured dropping the heavy case of pots and pans on the floor. “But maybe living alone will be good for me.” You replied, forcing a smile. “Besides, I don’t want to int—“

“Hey, Y/N, where do you want this?” Harrison asked as he held out a box that’s labelled with “books that my grandpa passed on. HANDLE WITH CARE!” 

“Oh, just set it down on the living room—“ before you could even finish, Harrison dropped the box on the floor as if it was nothing. “Harrison!” You hissed, as you quickly rushed to check on the box. 

“Y/N, babe, they’re just books. Surely they can withstand any amount of pressure, yeah?” Haz tried to reassure you. 

“Haz, those books are from my grandpa—which I’m sure he got from his grandpa.” You sighed. “They’re really old and fragile, so I just want them to be in a well enough condition to stand in my bookcase.” 

“‘m sorry,” He murmured, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s just, why do you have to move out?” Harrison asked, frustrated at the whole thing. 

“Like I told Maia, maybe having my own place will be good for me.” You replied calmly, as you neatly put the box filled with your grandpa’s books in the corner room—the initial place where you want to build your bookcase. “It’s been a while since I’ve lived on my own.” 

“Yeah,” Harrison acknowledged “But there’s absolutely no reason for you to move out. You can’t possibly leave me with her!” He pointed at Maia who let out an audible gasp. Harrison was being dramatic of course.  

“Haz—“ You were trying to fight off a laugh. “You two are my constants and if I became dependant on having you two at my convenience, it’s going to be a huge problem.” 

“In my opinion, I don’t see it as a problem.” Maia pointed out childishly. You shook your head in disbelief. You had to move out because you miss having a place to yourself— a place where you can be at your complete worst and you don’t have to think about your friends worrying about you. 

Besides, moving out means you don’t have to see Tom that often and that was a bonus in your book. It wasn’t a sour breakup per se, it’s just really difficult to feel happy for your ex when he practically showcases how different he is now with his girlfriend. 

You prided yourself as a mature and well-rounded person who could be complete friends with her ex as if that’s normal. You could only keep the façade for so long. 

Four months. It’s been four months since you and Tom broke up. You lived with Maia soon after the breakup and that enough was a blessing. Maia couldn’t bear to handle the fact that you would be alone at a time like this. Harrison usually crashes at Maia’s so he was bound to move in with you two. In fact, he was always there more often than you. 

That was the point where you were convinced that Harrison liked Maia and that Maia liked Harrison.

Conveniently, you and Tom never ‘officially’ moved in together so you could avoid him freely at all costs.

Of course, that was eventually going to end soon. You and Tom were in the same friend group so you were bound to see each other, much to your dismay. You couldn’t exactly make Harrison and Maia pick friends because it’s not fair for anyone. 

You were all friends before you and Tom decided to date. Maybe that’s why people say to never date a friend—especially if they’re near and dear. 

You were coming back from work when you found people in the living room, and as if the universe really wanted to test you, it was the least likely people you’d expect to see. 

“Y/N!” Maia’s voice was pure panic. “I didn’t know you’d be home this early.” 

Your eyes quickly flickered between the two people standing across you before you diverted your attention to Maia. “Uh—yeah. There wasn’t really much to do in the office so I came home early.” 

Maia turned to Harrison who was equally lost on how to handle the situation. I mean, who wouldn’t?! What were you supposed to do when your friend drops in unannounced with their new girlfriend and to makes the matters worse, your other friend—whom your friend dated before— decides to come home early? 

You didn’t know how what kind of spirit took over your body that prompted you to extend your hand to the girl sitting beside your ex and say: “Hello, I’m Y/N.” 

The girl looked surprised but shook your hand in return. “Nadine,” Nadine smiled slyly “I—um, I’m Tom’s girlfriend.” 

Tom looked mildly uncomfortable but you chose to ignore it. You were becoming good at that—ignoring Tom. 

You returned the smile at Nadine. You could feel the burning stares from your friends, mostly Maia. You cleared your throat and said, “I’ll just be in my room to finish the papers I need to send to my editor if you’ll excuse me.” 

Before you left completely, you gave Nadine another smile and said, “It’s nice to meet you again, Nadine.”

You don’t remember how you got to your room but that was the least of your concern. You were just undeniably overwhelmed with what just happened that you didn’t even notice that there was a knock on your door. 

When you opened the door, it was the last person you expected to see standing in your doorframe. 

“Can we talk?” Tom asked in almost a whisper. 

You gave him a half shrug and opened the door slightly wider for him. 

“We’re okay, right?” He asked, looking at you in the eye. 

At this point, you convinced yourself that you were numb. You never talked about the breakup. You never overtly said anything about what you felt. You felt empty. You convinced yourself that you were empty. 

You stared back at Tom and without missing a beat, you replied “Of course. Why shouldn’t we?” 

“Just admit that you two will miss me,” You teased, grabbing another box from Maia. 

“Only if you admit that you’re moving out for an entirely different reason,” Maia whispered carefully as her eyes flickered towards Tom who was also helping with your move out. 

You pressed your lips together and acted like he wasn’t even there. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said, you know, like a liar. 

You weren’t a vocal person. The idea of talking about your feelings was really difficult for you so you try your best to avoid it. Actually, it’s worse than that. You’d go to extreme lengths to avoid confrontation.

Obviously, it wasn’t healthy. You would always distance yourself whenever you feel emotionally exhausted, and you really meant that distance. It wasn’t bad at first—maybe a day or two was all you needed before you felt comfortable enough to be around people again. 

Then it became worse when you were in university. You were beyond unreachable. Aside from being emotionally exhausted, you were mentally drained too. You were always buried with papers and readings which was unavoidable but it took a huge toll on you. So whenever you get a chance to get a break, you completely shut off from people. 

Your friends definitely noticed it and they tried their best to help. 

Tom was among the people who definitely went out of their way to help you. He would always drop by at your dorm with food or coffee—he would literally just drop them off, most of the time. He would leave small notes that up to this day, you still kept and tucked away in a box. 

Both Maia and Harrison followed Tom’s approach. They would all alternate on who’s dropping what and when. Some days, Maia would drop off a new skincare product she’s been using or a lovely box of macarons from your favourite patisserie. 

On other days, Harrison would drop off some of his home-cooked meals or maybe a book he saw from a local bookstore—a book that reminded him of you.

Tom was very persistent though. He would sometimes wait out on the hall, just so he could see you and reassure himself (and your friends) that you were okay. 

You found it taxing at first—you would often try your best to match the energy from your friends, which only left you exhausted at the end of the day. You wanted space and you clearly weren’t getting that from Tom. You did acknowledge that he only did it out of pure concern. 

You often wondered why he did that, staying, but you didn’t ask him. You never did.

Maybe you were afraid that you’d come off as rude or that you’d seem ungrateful for dismissing someone when they’ve clearly taken the time off their day just to check on you. 

However, every time you’d open that door, it always seemed that Tom would breathe a huge sigh of relief when you lock eyes. Even if it was just for a quick second. You wondered about that too.

Tom wasn’t really being intrusive. Most of the time, he will leave a few minutes after you’d open the door to get the things your friends would drop off. You’d always ask him if he wants to stay inside for a bit, but he’d always decline.

Except for that one time, though. That one time that you knew you were going to fall in love.

It was the week of midterms and deadlines. You were knee-deep with papers from different classes that demanded to be finished that week, one of which was a research paper that practically tied you to your laptop and made you consume an unhealthy amount of caffeine. 

It wasn’t until 2 am when you were about to go on a quick drive to a McDonald’s but saw Tom dozed off in the hallway, his back pressed against the wall.

“Tom,” You shook him gently, trying not to startle him. “Tom, wake up.”

His eyes slowly fluttered open, seemingly disoriented at first but would soon fall into the warm familiarity that your face always brings. 

“Why are you sleeping in the hall?” You asked quietly, careful not to make a fuss. The walls in your dorm were very thin and you learned that the hard way. You’d think they’d put a disclaimer about that in the lease when you’re housing a bunch of university students with raging sex drives. 

It took Tom a minute to fully comprehend the question, seeing that the bright fluorescent light was being harsh on him and that he’s generally like that when being jolted awake. 

“Oh, erm, I—” Tom was finding the right words to use. He can’t exactly exclaim ‘I’ve been worried sick about you!’ out of nowhere. Instead he said, “I was waiting for you to open the door, just to see if you’re alright.” 

“All night?”

Tom scratched the back of his neck. “It seemed that way, yeah.” He muttered sheepishly. 

You were dumbfounded. Surely this was the first time someone actually fell asleep outside your door, waiting for you to come out. It was sweet but highly unnecessary. 

“I was just about to head out and get some McDonald’s, do you wanna come with?” You asked, giving him a hand to hoist himself up. 

“I should get going—“ 

“Have you eaten yet?” You asked cutting him off, taking Tom by surprise. He shook his head no. “Then you should really come.” You said, jingling your car keys in front of him.

Tom was debating whether or not to go with you. It’s been a while since you hung out, but that was the same case for everyone. None of your friends have properly hung out with you ever since the semester started. 

Tom should say yes, right? 

“Let’s go, Tommy,” You said as you grabbed his hand and dragged him across the hall. “I’ve been staring at my laptop all day and I really need some unhealthy food to balance out the concerning amount of caffeine I’ve consumed.” 

“Is that why you’re practically bouncing off the walls?” Tom asked amused, trying to keep up with your pace with your hand holding his. 

“Totally,” You grinned at him. “I need to wear out the caffeine or else, I’d have to skip my morning class again.” 

“French?” 

You nodded. “They’re counting the amount of absences in that class and I really need to keep my shit together.” 

“‘m not exactly sure why you took that as an elective,” Tom commented, properly wrapping his hand around yours with fingers interlacing each other.  

You tried to ignore it, you really did, but the warm feeling that settled around your stomach drove you crazy. 

“Why not? I think it’s cool to learn another language.” You nudged him playfully which he gladly returned. 

“I know and trust me, I’m in awe that you’re learning another language! erm—I guess it’s just I feel like you’re overworking yourself too much.” Tom pointed out softly, hoping he didn’t come off as rude or intrusive. 

“Eh, I don’t mind.” You replied “It’s what drives me to keep going and for me that’s more than enough. Even if it leaves me little to no sleep, even if it takes too much of my time—it’s enough reason for me to do it.” 

Tom stared at you in admiration as soon as those words slipped out your mouth and you didn’t even notice it. You were walking towards the student parking lot, consumed by the twinkling lights from the neighbouring lanes near campus. 

Maybe if you weren’t busy consuming the quiet campus grounds, you’d notice the very first time Tom fell in love with you. 

“Besides, I know a phrase in french now.”

“Hm—and what’s that, then?” 

“Je ne suis pas l’escargot” 

“L’escargot? Isn’t that—“ 

“I am not a snail,” You giggled. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”

Tom laughed, “I supposed so.” 

Maybe if you weren’t so afraid of confrontation, you’d have an idea of when Tom knew that you were his person.

See, the thing is— you needed to face reality sooner or later and both your friends could see right through it. 

“Honestly, Y/N, how on earth can your box of art materials be this heavy—” Tom appeared in front of the door frame, heaving as he carried the box from two flights of stairs. 

You quickly averted your gaze from Maia, who was staring at you expectantly, and cleared your throat. “You can just set them by the door, Tom. I don’t know where to put them yet.” You said as you tried your best to act normal. 

“You sure? They’re a tad heavy and I don’t want you to strain yourself.” Tom asked with furrowed brows. 

All you could do was nod. The last thing you wanted was Tom’s focused attention on you.

“If you say so,” Tom sighed in defeat “I’m going to grab more boxes—Baby, you don’t have to carry that!” Tom was quick to disappear as he urgently dashed towards his girlfriend, Nadine. 

“Oh, but I want to help, Tommy.” You heard Nadine say sweetly, assuming she was also pouting. 

You could see Maia roll her eyes, urging you to give her a nudge and a taunting look. “Maia,” you called her out, silently pleading her to stop. 

Maia settled down but she wasn’t exactly calm about it either. “I’m still not sure why she’s here.” She murmured. You and Harrison were close enough that you can hear her rambles—which was expected from her anyway. 

Maia and Nadine go way back—like toddlers and playgrounds kind of way. Though that sounds figuratively adorable in a way, Maia and Nadine never got along. 

Nadine used to date Maia’s brother, which already caused Maia a great demise. As one could expect, the relationship didn’t end well. She left him out of nowhere, saying she needs to find herself—or something along those lines. 

A week after the breakup, what Nadine found was herself in the arms of another man. Of course, Maia’s brother was devastated—He truly loved Nadine. Maia had to be the pillar that her brother leaned on. It took Maia a great amount of time to help her brother pick up the pieces that Nadine left. 

So yeah—Maia wasn’t thrilled when she heard that Tom was Nadine’s new boyfriend. 

“She offered to help, Mai,” You whispered “Who am I to deny help?” 

Maia looked at you as if you managed to empty your head while you were moving in between flats. “She’s been after me ever since we were kids. She’s also the reason why it took my brother months to get out of bed,” Maia deadpanned “and She’s Tom’s new girlfriend. Remember Tom? Your ex?” She said rather loudly.

You gave her a tiny pinch on her arm, causing her to yelp. “Maia, are you nuts?!”

Harrison left the two of you so he could grab more boxes, while you and Maia bickered silently amongst each other. 

“You are thicker than I thought—Seriously, Y/N. Quit pinching me!” Maia aggressively rubbed her arm. 

“They’re going to hear you!” You hissed. “The last thing I want is for those two to get involved.” 

“Babe, they’re already involved. Tom, especially.” Maia remarked. “I see the way you look at Tom. I also see the pain you feel whenever he’s with she who must not be named.” 

“I’m not doing this Maia,” you mumbled as you walked past her. Your objective was now to help Harrison with the remaining boxes. Your objective was anything but to talk about you and Tom. 

“You have to face it sooner or later, Y/N.” Maia called out “I’m not leaving you or this apartment until you tell me what really happened.” 

“What’s going on?” Harrison asked as he entered the apartment, carrying three sets of boxes. You grabbed one from him and actively avoided his question. 

Before Maia could reply, Tom and Nadine appeared on the doorframe, with Nadine practically glued to Tom. 

“Harrison got the last remaining boxes so we’re heading off now,” Tom announced as Nadine’s face painted with clear desperation to get out of your place. “Are we still going bowling tonight?” Tom asked before Nadine whispered something in Tom’s ear and left.

“I’m actually exhausted so I’ll pass,” You answered, obviously avoiding spending time with your ex and his current girlfriend. You’re not that pathetic. 

“Same might actually have to just drink the night away,” Maia responded with a grin.

“Well, there’s no way I’m third-wheeling so I’m good,” Harrison said as he threw himself towards the plush teal couch that you snagged from a flea market. 

For the tiniest second, Tom seemed disappointed but gave a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, maybe we can reschedule our bowling night, then?” He asked. “It’s not as fun to go bowling with just the two people.” 

You, Harrison, and Maia all shared a look. You weren’t on board with bowling-night, to begin with, but you didn’t want Tom to feel as if you were avoiding him—which you were but no one needs to know that. 

Maia looked at you, waiting for an answer because god knows she will solely depend on her decision based on yours. You don’t even have an answer, to begin with. 

“What are you two supposed to do then?” Harrison asked Tom. Thank god for Harrison.

“I might take Nadine to this poetry jam event that she’s been dying to go to” Tom replied with a soft voice. 

“A poetry night?” Maia almost wanted to laugh “You don’t even have the slightest interest in literature, Tom.” Maia didn’t mean to offend him or maybe she did? She wasn’t completely fond of Tom ever since you and Tom broke up—well, she wasn’t fond of the idea that Tom was dating her ‘arch nemesis’, but Tom was her friend and so were you. 

“I know that, Mai.” Tom rolled his eyes “but Nadine likes it and I’ll do everything to make her happy.” That left a bitter taste in your mouth. 

“If you say so,” Maia murmured before she took a quick look at you. She looked like she wants to give you the biggest hug. But you held a stoic look on your face—something that you picked up because you were afraid of confrontation. 

“I’m serious,” Tom defended, lost in his feelings, which only irked Maia even more. 

“I know, I heard you— we heard you,” Maia replied, her face showing only one emotion: annoyed. “God, read the room,” Maia grumbled to herself. Harrison had to reach for her hand, urging her to calm down. 

“I really love her,” Tom whispered. That left a slap in the face. 

It was a cold Saturday afternoon and it has been raining almost all day. It was one of the rare weekends that you weren’t really occupied to do anything other than to lay on your couch and consume a copious amount of entertainment.

Despite the spitting rain, you actually want to head out this time. Being confined to your desk and the university was torture especially since you couldn’t do anything about it—the four of you were graduating this year, no one could afford to slack off. 

You and Tom were cuddled against the sofa— Tom was busy watching something on TV while you were busy scrolling on your phone. 

“Hey, Tom?” 

“Yes, my sweet girl?” 

“Do you want to go downtown?” You asked, looking at your phone as you read the details of an event happening this weekend.

“Right now?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “There’s a book fair being held at the local theatre.” You rested your chin on top of his chest and gave him a pout. You were getting sick of being cooped up between your study table and the library. This book fair was a change of scenery and it’s definitely right up your alley.

“But it’s raining, darling” Tom tried to say in the softest way possible. It’s not exactly up in Tom’s interests though.

“I know,” You sighed “I guess I’m just getting sick of this place.”

“You’re getting sick of me?” Tom asked with a huge pout. He was kidding of course. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of you, Tom.” You chuckled softly. 

“Okay,” He hummed, pulling you closer to him—if that was even possible. “Then can we stay like this for a while?” 

“Anything for you, angel.” You whispered as you closed the details about the local book fair. Maybe next time. 

Soon after Tom left, Maia pulled you to her side and asked, “You okay, babe?” 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You feigned innocence. It was clear as day that you weren’t okay, your friends knew that. 

Knowing that you weren’t going to budge, Maia walked towards the kitchen and brought out a bottle of wine from the fridge. 

Harrison raised an eyebrow at her and asked, “When did you manage to put that in the fridge?” All of you had been occupied with grabbing boxes that there was no way that Maia had the time to put wine in the fridge, let alone obtain them from somewhere.

“It was supposed to be a celebratory drink for Y/N’s new place,” Maia replied as she set the wine and three various mugs on the coffee table. “Obviously, that’s not happening now.” Drinking wine using the oddly designed mugs you collected over the years was a cry for help. 

“It’s 4 pm, Mai.” You pointed out as you stared at the white LED clock that you bought off Amazon—another impulse purchase enabled from scrolling on Pinterest for way too long. “We haven’t even had lunch yet.” 

“Oh please,” Maia snorted “If there’s one thing that I’ve picked up from university, it’s drinking with little to no food consumption.” 

“And if there’s one thing that I’ve picked up from university, it’s cancelling all of my plans for the entire day because I have to tend your hungover-self, Mai,” Harrison remarked as he grabbed the bottle and placed it back on the fridge. “I’m ordering food and no one’s drinking until everyone has finished a meal.” 

You heard Maia mutter a string of curses but most especially the part that she said, “This is not the version of daddy that I envisioned Harrison to be.” 

All of a sudden Maia’s idea of binge drinking doesn’t seem like a bad idea, you thought. 

Turns out Harrison had no intention of letting any of you drink. He was pretty adamant about not having to babysit two drunk messes in one night. 

“As if babysitting one isn’t enough,” You recalled Harrison say. He was obviously pertaining to Maia, in which she just huffed the entire time. You often wondered if Maia and Harrison noticed the obvious tension between them, because personally you found it endearing. It was no question that they were meant for each other. 

“Y/N, you still haven’t told us whatever happened between you and Tom.” Maia suddenly pointed out. You, Maia, and Harrison were still in the living room, silently watching TV. 

You were actively avoiding this conversation for the longest time as you haven’t told anyone about it, and based by the curious faces of your friends, you figured that Tom didn’t tell anyone about it either. You’re still not sure whether that’s a relief or not.  

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You mumbled. It’s not like you were lying, there really was barely anything to talk about. Heck—You and Tom never got to talk about it properly either. 

“We see the way you look at him, Y/N.” Harrison replied softly. “I think there is something.” 

“Look—” Maia sat up properly “I know you’re not really vocal about your feelings, but the fact that you’ve never talked nor showed any emotion about your breakup terrifies me, babe.” Maia’s tone was laced with concern. 

“I remember the day you told us about it too,” Harrison couldn’t hide his concern too “We were having brunch together at our usual diner and half-way through our meal, you promptly said “We broke up” when Maia asked where Tom was,” Harrison recalled it like it was a fever dream. He and Maia had already expected that you weren’t going to tell them about the breakup when it just happened. However, it baffles them that it’s been over a year since you and Tom broke up, and not one word has been said about it. 

It was silent for a while, except for Criminal Minds that was playing on the TV. You blankly stared at the screen, hoping that you’d catch whatever the agents were saying. It was impossible, especially when all your mind could focus on was the recollection of the day Tom knocked on your door at 1 am to breakup.  

You were relatively busy that day from volunteer work, so you haven’t seen any of your friends the entire day—or Tom for that matter. Actually, you haven’t seen Tom in a few days. He would send texts periodically throughout the day but they were always short and most of the time, you always forget to reply. 

You figured Tom was busy with his own thing and both of you established early on in your relationship that texting—or lack thereof— shouldn’t account to your relationship, especially since both of you are equally bad at it. 

You didn’t think any of it since you were bound to see your boyfriend and your friends tomorrow for brunch anyway. He will have your undivided attention by then. 

So imagine your surprise when you heard a soft knock from your door at 1 am, only to find Tom in disarray. His eyes were bloodshot red, tears falling down his face. His messy curls were masked under the hood from his jumper. 

At first you were in panic, you thought that something terrible had happened to any of your friends—his family even. 

But as soon as Tom dropped to his knees and whispered, “I’m sorry,” you had a clear idea what was bound to happen next. 

It’s been silent for a while. The door was still open and Tom sat out in the hall with his back leaning against your wall. You did the same thing except you were on the other side of the wall that Tom was leaning on. 

You two were close enough to the door frame that you could hear each other, actually facing each other was a whole other thing. Tears kept streaming down your face as you kept your eyes closed and rested your head against the wall. 

At some point in your relationship, you prepared yourself in case this happened— that you would accept whatever happens between you and Tom. You didn’t exactly anticipate that it would happen so soon. 

“Was there someone else?” You asked quietly. It was the first time you spoke after Tom dropped to his knees. You hoped there wasn’t. In fact, you silently begged to yourself that there wasn’t someone else, because you knew that you couldn’t handle that. 

“No, no—of course not.” Tom immediately answers.”I could never do that to you.” 

It was silent again. You were starting to feel numb—you tried your best to gather your thoughts and forced words out of your mouth, but you couldn’t. 

“Are we not worth fighting anymore?” You practically whispered. It was a gamble— you weren’t exactly sure if Tom had heard it and you don’t have enough strength to ask it again. 

“Y/N,” Tom sniffled. “You can’t say that.” He placed his hand on top of yours. You had your hand resting on the floor and you didn’t exactly notice that it served as an invitation for Tom hold it again. 

You love Tom with all your heart. He kept dismissing it but Tom made you a better person. He made you feel like love can be expressed through different forms of things—not just words.

You loved him by exclusively making time for him. You went on museum dates where he would make cheesy remarks, saying that you’re the most remarkable piece of art in the entire place. You went on dates to watch football games—you never understood it but Tom was happy, so you were happy.

You loved him through your touch. You would often massage his back because he had been tirelessly working himself to the core. He didn’t ask for it but you knew it would make him feel better. Your touch didn’t have to be intimate—though you expressed it through that way too

You loved him through mindless actions. Almost every time you would stop by at the local cafe to grab yourself some coffee, you would always recite Tom’s favourite order on autopilot. 

You loved him through silence. Study dates were gems for you. Even if you didn’t talk for the entirety of it and even if you were the only one who studied for the most part and Tom was just playing on his phone, having Tom beside you was enough.

You loved him so much that it pains you to think that maybe you weren’t enough for him. 

“I don’t think I can fight for someone who doesn’t even want to,” You muttered bitterly. “Just answer the question, Tom.” 

He didn’t answer. All you could hear were the silent sobs that you two were trying to hold back. At this point, you knew you wouldn’t look at Tom. Your heart wouldn’t take it—it will crush you. 

“Are you not happy anymore?” Your voice cracked as you broke into a sob.

“Y/N—“ Tom squeezed your hand even more. You’re going to miss it, but you had to let go. 

“Tom, if I’m standing in the way of your happiness then we should end this.” You cleared your throat and pulled your hand away. There’s a ghostly feeling that still lingered from Tom’s touch. 

“Please, Y/N, let me explain—“ 

“It’s okay, Tom.” You whispered. “I understand.” 

“You know I love you, Y/N.” 

“I love you too, Tom.” 

“But—“ 

“But maybe it’s best if we end it, I know. I got it.” You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down from crying. “Maybe it’s better if we stayed as friends.” Maybe it’s better to realize that whatever you and Tom had were too good to be true—that your love will never compare to the love he deserves. 

“Do you want the truth?” You asked your friends, with tears forming in your eyes. You can’t even decipher how they looked at you because of the tears clouding your vision. 

Were they looking at you in pity? Empathy? Sadness? 

“The truth is—I’m mad.” You gritted the words through your teeth. This was the first time your friends had seen you like this. All of the pent-up sadness, aggression, and hurt you felt was starting to get the best of you. 

“I’m angry. I’m hurt.” You snarled, furiously wiping the tears from your face. “I’m angry at the fact that I can’t seem to be genuinely happy for Tom. I’m hurt at the idea he seems to be a better boyfriend for Nadine, that he constantly makes an effort for her.”

“I don’t even know if he even loved me the way that I loved him,” Your voice became quiet “and it’s selfish for me to think that way because I never fought for it—for us. That’s enough reason to keep me up at night.” 

That’s enough reason for you to wonder if you’ll be capable of loving someone so deeply again. 

PERMANENT TAGLIST: 

@quaksonhehe @dark-infernal-instruments @trustfundparker @emsma11 @tomshufflepuff @spider-babe @goodgirlgonetom @tabi-toast​ 

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland angst #tom holland x you #tom holland x fem #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland blurb #tom holland and reader #tom holland and you #tom holland imagines #tom holland x y/n #tom holland au #tom holland and y/n #the girl writes i guess #txmhoellandwrites

[p-artsypants]

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (7)

Till Then

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Well, it’s spooky season! You know what that means? OH BOY SPOOKFEST!!!

FF.net | Ao3 

--

This investigation was not going well. 

First of all, she hadn’t attended the funeral. Perhaps she should have, to keep up appearances, but she couldn’t stomach sitting through the service while knowing there were no bodies in the caskets. 

It was wrong. 

She gave poor excuses to Alya and Nino, and skipped it. Maybe if she had gone, she could have learned more, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t stand it. 

Later that evening, Ladybug made a visit to the cemetery where the family crypt was. She allowed Tikki to do the actual investigating. She phased into the dirt of the freshly buried, unmarked grave, and concurred, it was the same coffin from before, with only sandbags inside. 

Gabriel’s too, over at the crypt. 

“Not much else to glean from this place,” Tikki said sadly. “Where to next?” 

“Actually,” Marinette wondered. “I have a hunch. Could you check Emilie’s casket too? She’s been dead for a while, so I apologize if what you see is…awful.” 

“I’ve seen worse. I’ll take a look!” 

Marinette waited anxiously, biting into her thumb nail. She really hoped she was wrong. Really really hoped. 

Tikki reappeared, her brow furrowed in concern. “You’re hunch was right. Emilie’s is just sandbags too.” 

She groaned, dread bleeding into her bones. “Damn it.”

“Maybe they’re all together?” 

“At this point, I don’t know if I should even hope for that. Emilie has been gone for years. Wherever she is…I doubt we’ll ever find her, let alone Adrien and Plagg.” 

“We’re not giving up though, right?”

“Of course not!” 

Marinette knew she had a chance of answers at the funeral home. The director knew more than he was letting on, but she had asked too many questions as Marinette, and going in to interrogate him as Ladybug would probably put her identity in jeopardy. She’d have to think on that one, and try to find a way around it. 

Now for the ‘basement’.

Till then, my darling, please wait for me

Till then, no matter when it will be

Someday I know I'll be back again

Please wait till then

Since Felix had confirmed that the Mansion didn’t have a basement, she assumed the office building did. Nowhere else did Gabriel or Adrien spend a significant amount of time. 

While the workers were still on their vacation, she went in. There was still a secretary, though she was dressed in casual clothes, and the doors were closed to the public. 

“Hi Miss Dupain-Cheng. Working today?”

“Um, something like that. Organizing some stuff.” 

“Alright, well, let me know if you need anything. I’m just here to tell clients that we’re off for a while.”

Marinette smiled. “Thank you. Um...perhaps, do you know if there’s a basement?”

“Basement? Uh...there might be one. I’m not sure. The main elevator doesn’t go there.”

“Alright. I’ll look around then,” she smiled patiently and bid the woman adieu. 

The building was unsettling without anyone in it. Half the lights were turned down, and the only sounds were the hum of the air conditioning and her footsteps echoing in the dim hallways. 

Several years ago, when she had first started, she was given a tour. A tour that seemed so unimportant then, she was scraping for now. There was a back staircase, in case of fire. That much she could remember. 

The big iron door slammed shut behind her as she entered the stairs. There was a door with an Exit sign over it, the outside world on the other side. A set of stairs went up and around, to every floor above. 

But there was one more door. Labelled with a big ‘SS’ for ‘Sous-sol’. 

‘Basement’, in French.   

“Tikki! I found it!” She said to her purse. 

“Great job! Let’s get to the bottom of things!” 

Marinette screwed up her lips. “Pun intended?”

“In memory of Chat Noir, yes.” 

“That is what he would have said, isn’t it? God, I miss him so much.” But she decided not to mourn her best friend in the dank, spider-infested stairwell. 

Of course, the door was locked. 

“Nothing is ever simple, is it? I wonder who would have the key. Janitor? Maybe Gabriel has a set in his old office.” 

“Aren’t you forgetting your ultimate skeleton key?” Tikki asked. 

“...um, yes, apparently.” 

Tikki flew from the purse, and phased through the door handle. It clicked a moment later, and the handle turned. 

“Wow, you’re convenient. Remind me to ask for favors in breaking and entering more often.” 

“Anything for you, Marinette!” 

She felt along the wall, found a lightswitch, and turned it on. Deep below, a few scant lights flickered to life. 

And in the columns of flickering light stood silhouetted figures. Still, waiting. 

Marinette held her breath, afraid she had been caught. 

“Tikki…” She readied herself to transform the moment they moved. She was still in the dark, they wouldn’t have seen her. 

Seconds ticked on. They stood, never flinching, never so much as breathing. 

“Oh my god, they’re mannequins,” she breathed. “I mean, duh but holy shit that was terrifying.” 

She descended the stairs, one at a time, still being quiet, and keeping her eyes glued to the forms. 

They didn’t move, because they were plastic, and as she drew closer to them, she realized how fake they were. 

They weren’t even good mannequins. The paint was chipping and the proportions looked odd. 

“These go in shop windows, right?” Asked Tikki. “I’ve seen a few from your purse.” 

“That’s right. These look really old. I’m surprised they haven’t been recycled.” 

“Is this what Adrien wanted you to see?”

“I doubt it. What would mannequins have to do with anything?”

Tikki shrugged too, and looked around.     

It was the worst three hours of her life. 

But because Adrien had used what was presumably his dying words to tell her to look here, she scoped that place out thoroughly. She named all the mannequins, to try to take the edge off. It didn’t really help, but it made ‘James’ the eerily realistic mannequin that stood in the shadows a little more friendly instead of a murderer in waiting. 

There was nothing there except old clothes, rejected materials, and a whole lot of new friends that Marinette never wanted to see again. 

As Marinette pushed aside the 9th box filled with 70’s paisley shirts, she sighed. “I think...I think I’m looking in the wrong place.” 

“I agree,” Tikki said, her antenna drooping. “I think we should have found something by now, right?” 

“I couldn’t even find any inspiration down here.” 

In the corner of her eye, she saw something, and turned quickly. 

“What?” Said Tikki wearily, already knowing what was wrong. 

“Another freaking mannequin! I swear they’re moving when I’m not looking at them!” 

“They can’t do that.” 

“I know that, but my eyes are tired and my heart is on the edge, and coffee isn’t working on my brain anymore!” 

“I think we should leave then. Maybe try looking at the mansion again. Maybe there’s a basement that Felix didn’t know about.”

At that moment, her phone chirped with a message from Nathalie. 

Please don’t forget, tomorrow, despite it being Saturday, your presence is required at the Agreste Manor. Gabriel’s Last Will and Testament will be reviewed, and you have been named. Since Mr. Agreste is so famous, we have asked all beneficiaries to attend. Sunday, you have off.

“Well, looks like I have an excuse to go back to the mansion after all. Probably should get in there and explore quickly. I have no idea what’s going to happen to it in the wake of...well, you know.” 

“Someone is probably going to inherit it. Probably Felix now. He seemed rather friendly at the funeral. He might let you snoop.”

“Friendly?” 

“More than usual, at least. But who knows how long that will last.” 

“If I have to show my cards to investigate, I will. If Ladybug has to break in, I will. I’m not going down in silence.”

 Our dreams will live though we are apart

Our love I know we'll keep in our hearts

Till then, when all the world will be free

Please wait for me

True to form, she arrived the next day at the mansion. 

As she came into the parlor, where many people were gathered, Felix caught her eye. He jerked his head, gesturing for her to come sit by him. 

As she sat, she looked at the others gathered. She recognized Nathalie, of course, Amelie and Felix, and Mayor Bourgeois. There were a few other people she didn’t know. One she had seen at the company, but she couldn’t remember his name right now. 

“So,” she asked softly. “Is the lawyer going to read the Will out?” 

Felix scoffed. “They don’t do that anymore. We’re just all going to get a copy, and the lawyer will be here if we have questions. Normally, I’m pretty sure they mail it, but I heard that the Will is sealed so they wanted us to get it in person.” 

“Sealed?” 

“Meaning no one else can read it. Last Wills and Testaments are public records after death. Unless they are sealed.” 

“Uh. I didn’t know any of that. This is my first time being in a Will. Well, I think my dad has one, but he’s still alive.” 

“Good for you.” 

“That is—I mean—I wasn’t trying to—“ 

“Just shut up, Dupain-Cheng.” He chuckled. “You are so sensitive.” 

She just childishly stuck her tongue out at him. 

A moment later, Nathalie and a white haired gentleman arrived. 

“Hello everyone, thank you for coming. This is Dr. Nathaniel Grey, the Agreste family lawyer and executor of their estate. Now, everyone listed in the Will will receive a copy. Each copy has the same content, but for convenience, I have highlighted your name.” And she started to hand out the packets, calling out names as she did so.

Some of the strangers had the last name ‘Agreste’ so they had to have been related to Gabriel. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” 

Marinette held out her hand to receive the thick white envelope. 

“Oh Felix!” Amelie cooed. “Emilie left you her corvette! She loved that car, I know she’d be proud for you to have it.” 

“I’ve seen it. Beautiful classic car. I’m honored.” As much of an ass as he was, Felix sounded genuine in that sentiment. 

To not seem too eager, Marinette carefully opened the envelope. As she did, she tried to imagine what he would have left her. A share in the company maybe? Maybe a family sewing machine? Nothing much, surely.

She unfurled the sheet and wow that was a lot of pink. 

“What the hell?” Felix gasped, looking over her shoulder. He glanced back at his page, and frowned in confusion. “No offense Marinette, but what the hell?”

“I…I don’t even know…” She glanced over the assets willed to her. 

Gabriel left her the mansion.

Up until that moment, she had forgotten she was supposed to be looking for a new place after Nino and Alya got married. She had mentioned it to Gabriel once, off-handed, and he seemed to not really care. 

But if he left the house to her, could he have cared more than she thought? 

The mansion wasn’t the only thing he left to her, either. He left his share of the company stocks, as well as trusts and bonds. Marinette had become a multi-millionaire. 

“What’s the meaning of this, Dr. Grey!?” A woman shouted. 

The shout drew all attention to her. She was a rail thin, tall woman, with high cheek bones and blonde-white hair tied up in a bun. 

“What seems to be the problem, Madam Laurent?”

“I was left a small fraction of stock and my mother’s ashes, but this—this half breed harlot gets the entire estate!?” 

Marinette flinched, feeling guilty and wholly undeserving of Mr. Agreste’s gift. 

Thankfully, Nathalie of all people came to her aid. “Miss Dupain-Cheng has been working tirelessly and closely with Gabriel to continue his brand. She’s been named head designer for his company, and everything left to her is to help in that endeavor.”

As she and Felix looked over the list of gifts, she wondered how true that was. 

“But I’m his sister!” Said Madam Laurent. “I take precedence over her!”

“Not with a will, you don’t.” Dr. Grey explained. “Children are the only protected heirs in French law. The rest of his estate is his to do with as he pleases.” 

Marinette looked back at all the pink highlights. She began to wonder if they served a purpose in distracting everyone from the obvious. 

Adrien wasn’t on there. Not once. 

Although there are oceans we must cross

And mountains that we must climb

I know every gain must have a loss,

So pray that our loss is nothing but time

He couldn’t be disinherited from the Will, not under French law. And yet he was missing…like the Will had been drawn up with the knowledge that Adrien wouldn’t be alive once it was valid. 

Pale and shaking, Marinette turned to look at Felix. 

“Don’t let her get to you, Kid,” he nudged her, taking her appearance for still being put off by the woman. “Gabriel’s family has always been lower middle class, before he became famous. She probably just wanted a bunch of money…whereas most of it was my Aunt’s and it was returned to our family. Does that make sense?”

Marinette shook her head, and then whispered. “Adrien isn’t here.” 

He gave her a soft smile. “Yeah, I know. He’s gone, Marinette.” 

“No!” She shouted, then hushed herself as the others turned to look. “No, I mean…he’s not here.” She pointed at the Will.

Felix grew pale too, and poured over the Will himself. “No way…how…but—maybe it was an assumption. Maybe it was assumed that Adrien was going to inherit half anyway, so he made the Will in case something happened?” 

“Dr. Grey,” Marinette stood and walked to him. “How old is this version of the Will?” 

Nathalie gave her a sharp look, but didn’t comment. 

“Well, a little over a week, actually. Gabriel called me and asked to make some changes.” 

“And why isn’t his son in here?” She asked, darkly. 

Dr. Grey screwed up his lips. “You know, I don’t know. I told Mr. Agreste what the law was, and he said, ‘just write it up as if Adrien didn’t exist.’ I wonder if he knew what their fate was going to be.” 

Marinette tried not to cry. She really did, but she just clenched the document to her chest and sobbed. 

“Now now, my dear. Don’t be so blue.”

“Adrien isn’t a murderer! He can’t be!” 

“Does it really matter anymore?” The lawyer asked. “The truth of their demise will not be released publicly. Only a handful of people will know. I doubt anyone outside of this room, in fact.” He said it so casually, like nothing was wrong. 

“Didn’t you find it suspicious?” She demanded. 

“No,” said Dr. Grey. “You would be surprised at how many clients have second versions of Wills without a child in it. Whether it’s because they’re hoping something will happen, or they see their child going down a dangerous road. Or perhaps the child is terminally ill and the parent doubts they will survive longer than them. Regardless of the reason, I choose to not ask questions.” 

Marinette wished he had. 

Till then, let's dream of what there will be

Till then, we'll call on each memory

Till then, when I will hold you again

Please wait till then

“Now, did you see the conditions?”

“What?” She sniffed. 

“Here,” Dr. Grey pointed to an asterisk at the end of the mansion item. “This states that there’s a condition applied, and the condition will be on the backside.” 

Marinette wiped her face and turned the paper over. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng must reside within the mansion for ten years. Within that time, she may not redecorate or refurnish any room except for the ‘pink room’. Guests, spouses, and children are welcomed to join her, as long as she is the primary resident. If she is to go on vacation or an extended business trip, the house must be vacant, save for those who would keep it from disrepair. If Miss Dupain-Cheng fails to comply, the house, and all that is in it, must be demolished. It cannot be sold or gifted to anyone until the ten year mark passes.” 

Marinette just continued to stare. “I…that’s…really specific.” 

“More specific than I suggested, but it’s what Mr. Agreste wanted.” 

With a calm expression, but a heart in turmoil, Marinette folded her copy up. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Grey. If you’ll excuse me, I need a minute alone.” She took her copy and quickly walked across the lobby to her office. 

There, on her desk, was a vase with a bouquet of roses. She hadn’t been in here since before the funeral, but they looked fresh. No card though. 

She set the roses to the side, and unfurled the Will once again, laying it flat on the desktop. She poured over every item, not just Willed to her, but to everyone. 

Indeed, there was no sign of Adrien, but also no sign of his property. Did he have his own Will somewhere else?

There was the curious case of Nathalie, who was in the Will, but received only money and trusts. Not an inch of material property, despite her closeness to Gabriel after all these years. 

What did she know? What had she seen? Truthfully, Marinette was too afraid to ask. 

Tomorrow, she would visit City Hall and get the records of the mansion. Hopefully, there were some blueprints in there, and the hidden basement would be found.

Till then, let's dream of what there will be

Till then, we'll call on each memory

Till then, when I will hold you again

Please wait till then

#miraculous ladybug #ml #fanfiction #the ghost of Smokey Joe #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette #tikki #identity reveal #murder mystery #spooky

[jamielea81]

When We Were Young

Chapter 1

Description: Leaving the only home your daughter had ever known wasn’t part of the grand plan. But then again, sometimes taking chances can change your whole life. And you should know that, you’ve been doing that since the start.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Slight angst, maybe a curse word or two.

Word Count: 2,271

A/N: Super nervous about this one. As always, this is strictly for fun as I know nothing about the personal life of Chris Evans. This series takes place in 2018.

*Italics are internal thoughts*

**

This is it. This…is…it. Okay, deep breath. Plaster on that smile.

“We’re almost there,” you sing-songed.

“Mom…” your daughter Ellie groaned.

Turning your head to the side, your co-pilot was currently nose deep in a book.

Better than her phone.

She’s a great kid and you really couldn’t complain. At fifteen you were pulling away from your parents as were most of your friends. It had been the two of you for so long that you were closer than ever. She didn’t keep secrets from you and you didn’t keep any from her. That had been your deal for years.

“I’m hoping we beat the moving truck there. Would hate to pay them to sit around,” you said eyeing the clock on the dash.

“It’s a moving truck and you don’t exactly have a light foot,” she replied, tucking in a bookmark and setting her book on her lap.

“What are you implying Ellington?” Smirk ever-present in your voice.

“It’s just that you tend to speed mother dear. When we were on the open roads in North Carolina that was one thing, but I don’t think you’ll get away with that in Boston.”

“Just wait until you start driving. You’re going to be worse than me!” you laughed. “But your probably right.”

“Don’t forget to sign me up for classes. You promised after the move you’d enroll me.”

“I know and I will. Let’s just get the school tour and the first few days of classes settled first. One step at a time,” you replied, giving her a soft smile.

Where did the time go?

“And are you ready?” she questioned.

“Ready for what?” you asked, small frown appearing on your lips.

“You’re new job. The new house. It’s an entirely different part of the country. It’s a lot,” Ellie sighed out. “Even I know that and I’m the one that wanted this change.” She placed her hand over your right hand that held the steering wheel.

“I’m ready.” You nodded your head because you really were. “This is for you, baby. But a little part of this is for me too. Change is good,” you said shrugging your shoulders. “That’s what they say right?” You gave her a questioning look which she chuckled at.

“Absolutely, mom,” Ellie agreed.

**

Despite your concern, the two of you made it to the townhome before the movers. The car was unloaded and food ordered before they even pulled up.

All of your furniture had survived the move, but now that you had it in the house, the beach vibe really wasn’t matching with the old brick row home. If your savings weren’t mostly depleted, you’d consider purchasing a new living room and dining room set. Only one box of miscellaneous knickknacks was damaged beyond repair from the move up the coast. According to your daughter, it was just an excuse to go shopping.

Ellie was tucked away in her new room organizing her clothes, promising she’d actually go to sleep in the next thirty minutes. It was a big day for her and you as she would tour her new school. The school specializing in engineering was the reason you were here. While Ellie didn’t inherit the social awkwardness you experienced in junior high and most of high school, she was also incredible smart. How your beautiful daughter turned out so well rounded only being raised by you was a bit of a mystery, but you thanked your lucky stars every night.

When Ellie came to you ten months ago with a glittery pink folder filled with the school’s brochure, a list of courses she planned to take, a breakdown of tuition cost, nearby neighborhoods, and a recommendation for one of her teachers, you knew she was serious. She had been talking about Harvard since she was nine years old when her school had a special speaker that had mentioned graduating from the esteemed university. She reminded you that when she did start her college career there, because she knew she’d get in, it would be a lot easier on you if you lived locally. Sometimes she was too smart for her own good.

Reaching out to a of couple old NYU classmate who lived in Boston was the easy part. Getting your small two-bedroom bungalow solid was the tough part. The house sat on the market for two months without so much as a nibble. The two of you got to work painting every room, replacing light fixtures, baseboards, and outlets. It paid off in the end as your house was in escrow a month later.

While you liked having a detached home, it wasn’t in the budget in Boston or in any of the surrounding suburbs. Your old classmate Hillary, who was happy to reconnect really steered you toward a row home. After searching Google for months, you found a rental in the town of Belmont that was conveniently located near Ellie’s high school. And just like that, you were saying goodbye to the only town she had ever known.

Wine. You needed wine if you were going to stop worrying and get some sleep yourself. If only you could find a wine glass. Digging through the one of three boxes labeled “dishes”, you gave up your search when you came up empty after the first box.

“A coffee cup will do.”

Filling the mug three quarters of the way full, you headed back to the couch, resting your feet up on the cushions and thought about how your lives were going to change. Ellie was excited for a new city and school, but you were sure she also held onto some anxiety on the inside as she tended to do.  

When you were three months pregnant, you moved to Wilmington North Carolina with your college classmate Peter who was nice enough to offer you a place to stay. You certainly couldn’t go home to Kentucky. Not when you were pregnant and single. Not that you wanted to anyway. Wilmington is where you built your life for the last sixteen years and you missed it already.

You grew up in a very structured home. Middle child to wealthy parents who weren’t shy about how much they had. They had goals for you and for the most part, you obeyed. Piano lessons, cello lessons, dance, although, that one ended shortly after you started. Private schools, tutors, math camp, really anything that would help you succeed. You did well in school because you worked hard. Not that you had a choice really. College and then back home to work for your father’s company. No doubt they had a short list of potential husbands handpicked for you by your sixteenth birthday. You’d be engaged by twenty four, married, by twenty five, first child by twenty seven. It wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted to plan out the rest of your life, not have it planned out for you. Having a child on your own terms was very much a part of your plans.

**

Leaving work early after only two weeks at Hayward Financial was not on your calendar for the day. Two appointments with new clients had to be canceled with new ones set up for the following week. Receiving a call from Middlebury Engineering Academy that your daughter missed third and fourth period was most certainly not a call you expected to get. She loved school. Always had perfect attendance except for that one year where she got very sick with the flu and had to miss three days. Missing class was more painful to Ellie than the illness itself. Maybe you missed something. Maybe she wasn’t as happy as she seemed. She already had a small group of friends but maybe they weren’t good kids. You slammed your hands on the steering wheel.

“Where are you Ellington Rae?”

You had already called her cellphone three times and texted her twice as much but she wasn’t responding. Home was your first stop but she wasn’t there. The coffee shop was next. It was a favorite for the two of you, stopping there at least four days a week. Unfortunately, they hadn’t seen her. The pizza place, sandwich shop, frozen yogurt kiosk, library, that clothing boutique she had been begging you to take her to since her friend Carmen had mentioned it, all turned up empty. On the verge of tears, you pulled back into your driveway for the second time that day and called your best friend who not only felt a thousand miles away but actually was a thousand miles away in Wilmington. This was the hard part about moving somewhere new. You hadn’t met the neighbors, hadn’t introduced yourself to the parents of Ellie’s friends, barely knew her teachers. You had never felt more alone than you did at that moment.

“Gwen…” you said, voice barely holding on.

“What’s wrong? Shit. Give me a second, I’m going to step outside,” she said.

You got out of the car, walking up the stairs with the phone attached to your ear and your bag in your other hand. You pushed your shoulder up to hold the phone in place while you dug for the keys.

“Okay, tell me what’s going on.

“It was a mistake coming here,” you sobbed, dropping the keys on the kitchen island. “I miss Wilmington.”

“Oh babe. You love it there. You already told me you do,” she sighed.

“Not anymore. We’re coming home. I just need, um I just need to get out of my lease. We can stay with you right?”

“Always. But that’s not going to happen. Now tell me what’s bringing this panic on.”

**

“I can do this. Just act like you know what you’re doing,” Ellie said to herself, taking a big breath, straightening her shoulders, and walking out the door.

Leaving campus after second period was a lot easier than she thought it would be. Between the hustle and bustle of the hallway, watching the exits apparently wasn’t a thing teachers did. She walked three blocks from campus and ordered an Uber. The app was already on her phone from when her mom’s car got a flat and they decided to get lunch rather than sit around the repair shop. Her mom would be mad at her, but this was worth it and she would apologize for it later.

Her driver dropped her off in front of the booming convention center. She’d always wanted to go to one of these things, just never figured she’d be ditching school to do it. The building was massive with an impressive architectural roof. The engineer in her was beaming, but she wasn’t here for that. No, she was on a schedule. This was her one chance and she wasn’t going to blow it standing outside. Walking past the dozen or so smokers, she made her way inside the convention center, making a stop at the registration table to grab her credentials. While most attendees lined up early to be let in as soon as the doors were open, Ellie was not the average attendee.

Checking her phone for the time, she saw the dozen or so missed calls and texts. She was going to be in so much trouble when she got home and she honestly hated herself for making her mom worry. Ellie had an hour before she could line up for the one photograph she purchased months ago. Deciding to kill time in the vendor room seemed like the best option. Maybe she could buy something for you to make up for giving you wrinkles at an early age.

After browsing for some time, Ellie settled on two matching beaded bracelets in your favorite color for each of you. Maybe when you finally forgave her, you’d wear them and go to brunch like the two of you enjoyed doing back in Wilmington.

Combing her fingers through her hair for the fourth time, Ellie leaned to the side to check the length of the line once more. There were maybe twenty to twenty five people ahead of her, so she knew it would go fast. But if she had to hear how hot Chris Evans was one more time, she was going to scream. Ellie had rehearsed what she was going to say a million times in her head, but she wasn’t sure if she’d be able verbalize the words. An opportunity like this wouldn’t happen again, at least not one this easily.

She was led into a room with two other girls not much older than herself. They were here together and couldn’t stop giggling. Chris said hello and both said hello in unison causing Ellie to sigh.

“How do you want to pose for the photo?” Chris asked.

“Could we both hug you?” one of the girls asked.

“Yeah, that would be okay,” Chris replied, giving them each a smile which only caused them to giggle more and Ellie to roll her eyes.

After the girls said goodbye, two more people were ushered in the room behind Ellie. The assistant urged her forward to a smiling Chris.

“Hi sweetheart. How would you like to pose for our photo?” Ellie gulped in reply. “Don’t be nervous. How about I just give you a side hug?”

Ellie nodded her head as Chris wrapped his arm around her waist. She turned her head to face him, seeing that he wasn’t looking at her, but at the camera.

“You’re my dad,” she exclaimed.

Chris whipped his head to the side to face her. “What?” he whispered.

“You’re my father.”

Chapter 2

**

Tag List: @tanelle83​ @pinknerdpanda​ @allaboutthebooz​ @estillion14​ @panicfob​ @patzammit​ @heartislubbingdubbing​ @collinsstanharbour​ @twittytelly​ @linki-locks11​ @ab-baybay​ @rda1989​ @impalaimages​ @jesseswartzwelder​ @rainbowkisses31​ @xostephanie​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​ @xxloki81xx​ @thenormreedus​ @firstangeldragonranch​ @soitmightgetweird​ @maeleeme​ @denisemarieangelina​ @rvgrsbrns​ @icanfeelastormbrewing​ @velvetwonderbucky​ @kitkat1690​ @smilexcaptainx​ @suppu97​ @dangerouslovefanfic​ @dwights-new-plague​ @kelbabyblue​ @sweetlittlegingy​ @chrisevansforever​ @evansxxx​ @twittytelly​ @southerngracela​ @bitterstar88​ @squirrelnotsam​ @kitkatd7​ @lakamaa12​ @dontbetooobvious​ @straightforwardly​  @mariswritingforfun​ @imaginesofdreams​ @anat2507​ @captnstarryeyed​ @chrisevansfanfic​ @capstopavenger​

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x single mother reader #chris evans x you #chris evans reader insert #chris evans fan fic #chris evans fanfic #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Wolf, Bat, & Rat || Ariana & Harsh

TIMING: During Sweet Dreams POTW PARTIES: @notsoharsh & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Ariana and Harsh run into each other while looking at knives. No wrong assumptions are made and no rat kings show up in the store. 

Humans and their fucking birthdays. Why did they even make such a big deal about them? Well, maybe when they only had about forty of them to look forward too, they were more important. Harsh didn’t care much about his own, he had forgotten when it was some hundred years ago. It didn’t matter. He kept track of the years in a vague sense, but after two hundred had gone by, the precise number was less and less important. The gap between 29 and 30 seemed much bigger than the one between 262 and 263. But Kaden was closer to the former, so he needed some kind of present. Something nice, something he could probably use to kill people. That’s what hunters liked, right? Harsh didn’t really know where to start. He had picked the store at random. Their stuff looked relatively high end, decent knives at least. The door at the bell rang, new customer probably. Harsh let his eyes drift over. Huh, she looked kind of young to be checking out weapons, but… she could be a hunter, they started young. He didn’t pay her much mind, instead keeping his attention focused on the knives lining the wall before him. This would be a lot easier if he had any idea where to start. “I wish these things had better labels,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. 

 If how things were going lately was a sign of anything, Ariana was about 95% sure she was cursed and she was almost positive the mimes had something to do with it. Every time she actually needed to use all the random shit that seemed to be popping up around town lately, it conveniently vanished from her pocket like she was in some sort of nightmare. Sure, she had other assets she could rely on, but she couldn’t just casually turn into a wolf in the middle of town. Or maybe she could. It’s not like she’d be the craziest thing anyone was seeing. There was another man over by the knives, but she mostly minded her business looking over the non-silver knives until she heard him speak. She looked to him with an amused grin on her face and joked, “You mean, you can’t tell what type of metal it is just by looking?” She picked up one of the ones in front of him and ignored the mild irritation from the silver before placing it back down. “Are you looking for something in particular? I’m no expert, but I have a decent enough idea of what I’m looking at.” 

 Oh shit, this kid actually knew something. She probably was a hunter then. Harsh gave the blade another look. It did look kind of silvery. God, he needed to be better about this. He had never really cared about the kind of wood stakes were made out of as long as they weren’t pointed his way. But he should. He flashed her a sheepish smile and shrugged. “They all kind of look the same to me. I go more on the weight and feel. Knives aren’t really my area, I’m looking for a friend. He’s got a birthday coming up and he’s really into all this stuff.” Harsh gestured to the wall, which was almost entirely covered in hunter tools. Really, he should have been more careful walking into this place. They didn’t have a wall for stakes, but he wouldn’t be surprised if there were tons in the back just waiting for slayers to ask. “What about you? Is this where cool kids hang out after school now?” She looked young… ish. He had never been great at guessing human ages even when he was one. She was sort of small, but that could mean anything. Maybe high school? Middle school age? That was probably a weird thing to ask. There weren’t any parents trailing after her waxing on and on about silver and cold iron, so she was probably at least old enough to walk around town without a babysitter. When did they stop babysitting kids now… twelve? Maybe she was twelve. 

 Judging by the lack of knife knowledge, Ariana felt herself relax a bit as she realized this man was decidedly not a hunter. Especially not a werewolf hunter. While her luck with hunters and winning them over was going, odds are the ones shopping for knives would be plenty eager to stab her. Which was something she largely preferred to avoid. She laughed a bit and said, “You’re valid. Do you know what type of knives your friend normally goes for? What does he like besides knives? Some of the engravings really give extra personality.” It dawned on her that Kaden had a birthday coming up pretty soon. She was, after all, nearly done with the final touches on his gift. What were the odds this random guy was friends with Kaden? He looked like he was maybe about Kaden’s age, but it was hard to tell. She’d still probably pick something she knew Kaden would probably like and hoped it wasn’t going to a werewolf hunter who would actually use it on her. Or one of her friends. She refrained from sighing as she picked up another nice looking knife that slightly irritated her skin. The remark about after school made her laugh a bit. “Oh yeah,” she joked, “Knives are the new makeup because why should your looks be the only thing that kill?” 

 Glancing at the selection, Harsh carefully picked up a blade. It was… very shiny. Great. Wait, the label there said silver. That might be good. He cast a glance at the kid. If she was a hunter, she would probably know what he was after as soon as he tried to get specific. “I think he’s a fan of silver or iron. It’s tough, he’s got a lot already, but that’s a good point. Maybe I could get one of these engraved for him. I should get one with stripes, he would hate that,” he said, with a soft laugh as he set the knife back down. Maybe he was going about this all wrong. Kaden had knives, he had weapons. And lately he seemed… less than enthusiastic when they talked about hunting. But what the hell else did hunters need? “You mean killing a guy with eyeliner isn’t enough now? Damn, kids have it rough these days,” he said, shaking his head. He picked up another knife, faintly trying to test the weight of it. It felt even, nice and balanced. That was probably good, even if he wasn’t sure what the hell it was best used on. Maybe he should just get Kaden something he could drink instead. “You here for knives too? Or are you more of a crossbow person?” He glanced at the kid again, she seemed nice enough… probably harmless. Or as harmless as any hunter ever was. If she was one. Hunters really needed to wear nametags or something. 

 This man was clearly going for hunter metals which wasn’t the most comforting thought, until he mentioned the stripes. Ariana grimaced at the thought of stripes and how she had almost been stuck with them. You ghost one mime on Tinder and suddenly they were all out to get you… or maybe they realized she also ate one of them once. Not that it really mattered. “Silver or iron, huh? And stripes… someone who likes silver and iron knives, but hates stripes. Wouldn’t also happen to be grumpy and French, would he?” Was this one of Kaden’s friends? If she helped pick a knife for Kaden, it was a lot less likely to end up in her own side. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but her brow raised in question all the same. She picked up another one of the silver ones despite the minor rash beginning to form on her hands. It had some nicer designs along the handle though she wasn’t sure how much Kaden really cared for aesthetics outside of his hair and pies. The smile that thought started only grew as this man joked around with her. “I know, it’s a tragedy… or maybe not, I’ve never been great with makeup. Knives are a little more straight-forward.” Not as much as teeth and claws, but they did the job. And were a lot less obvious. She handed the knife over the man and made sure to not show her now slightly irritated palm. “Nah, I was actually looking for the candy store,” she said with a smirk before she gave the real answer, “But yeah, never know when you’re gonna get attacked by a mime or some shit in this town. I can throw a hell of a punch, but… better safe than sorry. And yes, I do know how to use a knife. Both for cooking and as a weapon.” She realized they were having a pretty good back and forth, so she added, “I’m Ari, by the way.” 

 French? Harsh blinked. It was a small town after all. A smile snuck onto his face as he nodded. “He is. Although, I think he’s faking, I speak French better than he does. I bet he’s Canadian French,” he said, voice dropping slightly, as if conveying a deep secret. So she knew Kaden. That figured. Well, as far as hunters went, he wasn’t so bad. Huh, the more he looked at this kid, the more she kind of looked like Kaden. Shit, how old was Kaden? If this kid was twelve… Kaden could’ve had a kid young. Humans did that sometimes. Her not being all French was weird, but maybe she grew up here. Shit, why didn’t Kaden ever tell him he had a kid? “Oh yeah, the mimes are a real hazard, gotta keep an eye on them. Y’know, the first time I ever met Kaden, we got attacked by one. Good times.” He took the knife, testing the weight. It seemed fine too. Maybe a little unbalanced. “I’m Harsh, nice to meet you. I don’t think Kaden’s mentioned you before, but I get it. Probably doesn’t want you hanging around his hunting buddies. Do you take after him?” If she was a hunter, she was still dangerous, even if she was just a kid. Maybe her mom was normal though. That would be just like a hunter, train them young even if they don’t get the hunter powers. 

 Making fun of Kaden? Ariana decided she liked this man already. That paired with the fact she could practically hear Kaden cursing in French at the thought of this whole conversation. It brought a devious grin to her face as she agreed, “You know, I always knew his French accent sounded phony. And he does talk about poutine a lot.” Another knife caught her eye as it had a nice leather cover for the blade. She picked it up and it reminded her eerily of one of Celeste’s which probably meant it was good though it wasn’t the most comforting thought. Clearly this guy knew Kaden was a hunter though, why else would he be gifting him knives for his birthday? Still, he didn’t seem ready to use one of the knives on her and didn’t quite have a feel for them so that pointed to the conclusion that he probably couldn’t detect her no matter how many times that fun little paranoid thought popped right on up. “That sounds like the worst first meeting ever, but for Kaden, that doesn’t surprise me. I think we’ve both pissed the mimes off at this point. Talk about silent but deadly.” Then it came, he indicated he was one of Kaden’s hunting buddies and boy was he fucking right. Kaden didn’t want her hanging around his hunting buddies. Probably because a good chunk of them would want to kill her. And wait-- did this Harsh guy just ask if she took after him? Did he think Kaden was her dad or something? How old did he think she was? Actually, this probably wasn’t a bad rouse to keep up. “Nice to meet you, Harsh,” she said brightly, maybe even a little too much so, “You know Kaden, that sounds about right. He can be a little protective. But yeah, you could say that I take after him. We’re both pretty good at taking down beasts… and mimes. What about you?” Way better for this hunter to think she was a beast hunter than a werewolf, right? 

 “Right? He’s definitely just from Quebec.” Kaden was going to hate this. Harsh couldn’t stop grinning. This kid was pretty okay. He had never cared much for kids one way or the other. They weren’t really an option for him personally and a lot of them kinda seemed annoying, but Ari was alright. And she seemed to be buying the hunter thing so far, so that was a big plus. “It wasn’t great. The mime looked just like him. Worst date ever. Uh, not that it was a date. Cause dating Kaden would be gross.” That was close, good save. It hadn’t been a date, not really. Harsh had maybe been angling for that beforehand, but Kaden hadn’t gotten the hint. And it was old news anyway. Plus, his kid probably wouldn’t want to hear about that. Better to move on and just not talk about that. “I’m alright with mimes. I do better with bloodsuckers. Which is why I’m a little lost here with the knives. I usually stick to stakes. And usually it doesn’t matter too much what kind of material those are made out of.” There were a few exceptions to that, as he had learned. This whole ‘fake slayer’ thing took a lot more research than he would have expected. He had to actually sound like he knew what he was talking about. Such a pain. He picked up another knife. Looked like silver too, with a little wolf etched into the hilt. That seemed offensive somehow. Maybe Kaden would like it. “He’s a good guy, I feel like I should get him something nice. But you know him better than me. Do you think he already has enough knives?” He probably did. What else did Kaden like? Maybe something obnoxiously French. Harsh frowned, brow furrowed as he tried to think. It was hard with that soft, weird noise coming from the back of the store. Something was squeaking up a storm back there. He glanced over the counter. “Do you hear something?”

 “Someone better update his Yelp reviews,” Ariana quipped in response. The smile on her face only grew. Even when he wasn’t around, there was something fun about messing with Kaden. It was probably all the French swearing. Then, here eyes widened like saucers when Harsh said the word date. Kaden had gone on a date with this guy? What? It dawned on her she didn’t actually know how long he and Regan had been dating, but it was definitely as long as she had known him. Clarification soon came albeit in a manner that wasn’t the most convincing, but she’d take it at face value. The moon knew she didn’t always say the right fucking thing. “Oh yeah, the fucking mime twins. Those were the worst. I had to e-,” she cut herself off quickly and tried to recover, “Fight my mime twin, too. She wasn’t cute. But hey, Kaden’s not totally gross. He makes good pie. Still mimes are not a fun way to meet.” The last bit came out a bit rushed as she literally almost told a hunter that she ate her mime twin. Ate. Not stabbed or shot. Ate. A very distinctly werewolf thing to do. Good going, Bennett. There was a slightly puzzled look on her face about her knowing Kaden better but she decided to go with it. “He does enjoy a nice knife though I think the wolf may be a little too… not in good taste,” she noted biting back any hint of anger the knife made her feel, “He really likes baking, too. And flannel. I think a knife fits though-- for your friendship with him since you know, hunting buddies. Gifts aren’t so much about what they are as much as they’re about who they remind you of.” A chorus of squeaking caught her off guard and her head whipped over to make out what the sound was as she caught wind of an animal-like smell. “I definitely hear something,” she said as she followed the sound as she heard a scream, “Oh, what the fuck?” Was that… a bunch of rats? That seemed to be morphing into a larger, scarier rat? “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we’re in a knife store,” she said, gripping the knife she had in her hand still as she lunged toward the rat monster.

 Why had he said it like that? In front of Kaden’s fucking kid too. It didn’t matter that Harsh had maybe thought the meeting was a little more than it actually was. That was so far in the past. Kaden was his buddy, against every rational thought and hint of self preservation he had. And now here he was, chatting with his daughter. When the hell had his life turned into some kind of bullshit sitcom? But it probably wasn’t going to have a great season ender if they ever figured out the real reason he could never grab a round of drinks down at the local hunter bar. “Shit, you had one too?” Maybe that was a family thing. “I killed Kaden’s. Which was… kind of horrifying.” Harsh found himself frowning, a little annoyed at how that wasn’t quite a lie. Which was fucking strange. He didn’t actually care about Kaden. That soulless gaping void inside wouldn’t let him. But there was no thrill in the rearview mirror, no rush at the thought of taking out something that even looked like a hunter. Hell, talking to this kid, there was no urge to take the knife in his hand and see if it worked just as well on hunters as it did on wolves. That should be there. But… nothing. The idea was actually… not pleasant if he let it sit there. Weird. He was getting soft in his old age maybe. “Yeah, no on the wolf then,” he said, setting the knife down. “Flannel might be good. You think they have any plaid knives?” The squeaking was getting louder and weirder until the mound of twisting, shrieking rats burst in. Oh. Gross. It figured even the pests couldn’t just be normal here. “Shit--” This kid was definitely a hunter. Someday he would hang out with someone who’s first instinct wasn’t to launch themself at the closest source of horror as soon as it walked into a room. Oh well. Harsh snatched up the blade he had just set down, rushing after Ariana. He slashed, cutting through a few rats twisted up in the growing snarling mass. But some of them were way more than rat sized. One nearly Ariana’s size leapt at her. Harsh moved without thinking, taking a mouth of sharp teeth to the arm. “Fucking rats--we can’t stab all of them. There’s gotta be something--”

 “Yep,” Ariana said matter of factly, “And damn, talk about a first meeting. At least you got rid of his mime.” She was pretty sure Celeste had also encountered Kaden’s mime twin. At least from what she was able to gather from her sister. It was just a relief to be past the point where everyone had their own murderous mime twin out for blood. Stripes and murder looked good on no one. Briefly, her focus shifted back to knives and she laughed at the idea of a plaid one, “A flannel knife, now that’d be unique. Maybe they have a flannel cover for one? Or maybe you just get one engraved to say ‘putain’ along the handle or something.” All talk of knives was gone now as she found herself lunging toward a… pile of rats? Even with her sharp senses, it was hard to get a read on how this rodent mob was moving. Every way it jerked was erratic and had a tendency to take shelves down with it. Great. At least Harsh was following given he was a hunter. A hunter and a werewolf could definitely take on a bunch of rats magically tied together, right? As a rat leapt toward her, she found Harsh intervening and her grip on the knife in her hand tightened. They seemed to move together with purpose, but so chaotically she couldn’t keep up with their next move. She took a step back, kicking one on her way for good measure, “I mean, we could stab all of them, we just might also end up scratched to all hell,” she said incredulously, “I’ve never seen something like this before, but maybe, I know Kaden used fire on a hedgehound before. Since there’s so many, it may be more effective than, well, sta- Ow!” Apparently the rats didn’t like her idea and were nipping at her ankle. The one time she didn’t wear high topped boots. She lifted her foot up to stomp on the ones at her foot, “Fuck off you stupid rat,” she grumbled as she refrained from letting out a more animalistic sound. A wolf was not about to be taken down by a bunch of rats. She was a wolf, for fuck’s sake. For good measure, she kept her knife drawn. “You got a lighter? I’ve got some spray deodorant in my backpack if the- I swear on Post Malone’s life if you don’t stop trying to bite my feet I’m going to turn this joint into a rat barbecue.” 

 It was probably better to leave out the part where a second weird mim Kaden had walked in the door just after the last one was dispatched. That made him sound a whole lot cooler anyway. If there was a way to be cool when fighting some kind of horrifying mime clone. Harsh certainly hadn’t felt cool at the time. He also very much did not feel cool now. The rat that had sunk its teeth into him was a persistent little fucker, taking at least three sharp stabs before it finally let go and dropped to the floor. Jerking back, he kept the knife in front of him slashing at any of the vermin that tried to leap at them. “Yeah, I’d like to look for a plan B. There’s too many of these fucking things.” Should he be swearing in front of her? Whatever, Kaden cursed like a French sailor, he probably wouldn’t care. So not the time to worry about that crap. Kids seemed more desensitized to that now anyway. She probably heard a lot worse at school. “Fire? That could work. Hang on.” As luck would have it, he did have a lighter on him. Harsh didn’t smoke much, not breathing made it sort of hard, but it never hurt to have a light and a few extra smokes on him just in case. Plus, it made him look cool. Aesthetic was important, even if he couldn’t see himself in the mirror. He fumbled at his jacket pockets, finding the lighter and pulling it free. “Here, this should work.” Even as he said it, he couldn’t stop glancing around, looking for something bigger than a knife. There was an axe on the far wall. It probably wouldn’t do much more than the blades, but maybe they could hack the mass of rats apart if the fire didn’t take care of them first. 

 Anyone else visiting the shop had long since cleared out. Ariana could hardly blame them. She would much rather be far away from whatever the fuck his rat atrocity was. It was hard to keep track of its movements as tails, claws, and fur scurried around her. Which was bullshit. A pile of rats attacking a wolf. While Ariana didn’t necessarily consider herself to be inherently better than others, it really wasn’t too much to ask that rodents and produce knew their place in the food chain. It took a concentrated effort to keep her claws in place and not accidentally go a little wolf-y in front of this hunter guy who thought she was a hunter. At least she could still stab the little shits and she did as they lunged toward her again. “Too many is an understatement,” she grumbled as she just barely dodged more tiny yet surprisingly fucking sharp teeth. “Hanging on here but quicker we get some fire the better,” she said as she kept swatting at rats with her knife. Once the lighter was out, she grabbed it and directed, “Watch my back for a minute.” She fumbled around in her backpack momentarily before pulling out the spray can filled with deodorant she had on her for rainy days. Here goes nothing. She held the lighter up far away from her and carefully aimed the spray nozzle toward the slew of rats charging her. “Harsh, keep your distance,” she said quickly and confidently before she pressed down on the spray nozzle causing a large frame to hit the rats… And singed her fingers, but that hardly mattered. A storm of squeaks erupted through the shop followed closely by the pungent smell of burning rats. She stood her ground and tried to concentrate the flame toward the rats, but some of the fliers and carpet were decidedly also toast. Literally. It didn’t take too long for the squeaks to fade and the rats to turn to ash. She turned to Harsh as she let out a sigh. “Something tells me we should probably ditch the scene before cops and firefighters get here.” 

Of course a hunter kid would know how to make a homemade flamethrower. Not that Harsh was complaining. Hell, he should have been taking notes. He ducked back, staying well clear of the flames. They did the trick, quieting the squeaking a little gruesomely. If he were human, the smell of burning rats probably would’ve turned his stomach. Grimacing at the pile of ash, he nodded. “Yeah, don’t really want to stick around to explain this. C’mon, lets head out the back.. Less questions that way,” he said, already making for the door. It looked like whoever was supposed to be running the store had headed out when the rats made their way in, leaving the back door wide open. Either that or… maybe the rats ate them. Probably better not to think about it. He shot Ariana a grin. “It was cool meeting you. I’ll see you around, yeah? Hopefully… with less killer rat piles next time.”

#wickedswriting #harsh #wolf bat and rat

[catflowerqueen]

This is for you, @citrus-chickadee

Party Crashers Part 1

“My Dear, are you all right?”

The Grass-type blinked, the sight of Celebi waving a hand in front of his face dispelling his thoughts. “Hm? I’m sorry… did you say something, Celebi?

Celebi sighed in exasperation, crossing her arms and plopping down next to him. “I asked if you were all right,” she repeated. “You seem more distracted than usual… even considering what day it is.”

Grovyle winced at the reminder, briefly flicking his eyes in Dialga’s direction. Ever since the dark future had changed, he and Celebi were welcome guests in Dialga’s home. The Temporal Pokemon had even become a part-time employer of sorts, strange as that was given their history together. But today they weren’t there to receive any jobs; today was—or would have been, if she hadn’t disappeared—Laura’s Birthday, and it had become a tradition for Grovyle and Celebi to visit Dialga on the Temporal Tower Pinnacle to try and cheer him up. Despite everything that had ended up happening, Dialga still blamed himself for Laura’s ultimate fate.

Usually one or two members of the Sableye Gang came as well, but today they were all busy with other tasks. Dos, Trois and Seis had legitimate excuses, at least. Dos always honored the day by placing a new portrait in the Memorial Garden near Laura’s grave, and he had gotten a late start on painting this year’s addition due to a recent illness. Trois and Seis couldn’t make it because they were busy fixing their house since the roof had collapsed after a Castform decided their front yard would be the perfect place to teach his kids about weather changing moves—despite the fact that New PIT Base had training grounds conveniently located near the guest housing—and one of them became a bit too enthusiastic about the move Hail. But the other three—along with Dusknoir—weren’t there because they were trying to avoid the sadness.

Dusknoir was always conveniently “busy” whenever this date came around, and this year he had decided that it was absolutely vital that he go on a week-long scouting mission to—of all places—the Oran Forest. Cinq, Un, and Cuatro insisted they go with him to “protect him from danger.” Again, this was the Oran Forest they were talking about. If those guys weren’t doing this as an avoidance tactic, then Grovyle would eat nothing but Grimy Food for a week. In any case, it would probably be a few more days before they returned.

“Sorry, Celebi. I was just… thinking,” Grovyle finally replied.

Celebi giggled. “I can see that, my dear… What were you thinking about?”

Grovyle hesitated, looking towards Dialga’s depressed form again and weighing whether it was really worth it to upset him even more over what was probably a stupid question. In the end he decided that his desperate need to know the answer—even if the chances that it would be favorable were likely very slim—far outweighed the probability of pain. So he went ahead and asked, “I was just wondering… Dialga, are you really sure that Laura isn’t ali-with us, anymore? Somewhere out there?”

Dialga, who had perked up slightly at being addressed, winced and slumped even lower to the floor. He didn’t give a verbal response, but it was pretty clear from his body language that the answer was “yes.”

Celebi frowned, feeling troubled. “My dear… you haven’t thought about that possibility in years. What makes you think of it now?”

Grovyle shrugged, “When I went to Laura’s grave this morning to pay my respects, I was interrupted by this really weird visitor.”

“Oh? Weird in what way?”

Grovyle frowned, concentrating on bringing the memories back to the forefront of his mind before explaining, “Well, at first he didn’t realize where we were and tried to pick a fight with me over the flowers I’d picked for her,” he paused here to roll his eyes in remembered annoyance, “but then once he realized that we were at a grave… and especially once he realized whose grave it was… he was completely devastated. Like we all were, at first, you know? As if… as if he hadn’t known she was gone and it was a fresh wound.”

“That is strange,” Celebi agreed. “I mean… we’ve spread that story around enough that he should have heard it from somewhere…”

Grovyle nodded before furrowing his brow, realizing something. “Actually… he might not have.”

When Celebi—and Dialga, if only briefly—looked over in surprise, Grovyle explained, “I didn’t even think about it at the time, but… he was a celebi. He might not have heard it if he came from far enough in the past,” Grovyle paused and frowned as he suddenly realized something. “Which… actually makes how he behaved after I told him the story even stranger.”

“HOW DID HE BEHAVE?” Dialga asked, his attention riveted for some reason upon hearing the visitor’s species.

“He seemed…relieved. As if… well, as if he was worried that she had actually died from something like… I don’t know… age or illness, I guess. Something common.”

Celebi shot up into the air. “Wh-what?” she spluttered. “B-but that doesn’t make sense! I mean… okay, if he was from far enough in the past, then, yes you’re right, obviously death by ‘disappearing as a result of changing the future’ wouldn’t have crossed his mind… but it was still a grave. So why would he feel—” she came to a screeching halt as she realized something else. “…Actually, if he was from that far in the past… how would he even know who Laura was to get upset that she’s no longer with us?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Grovyle admitted. He frowned thoughtfully for a moment before theorizing, “I suppose he may have been thinking of a different Laura, but…”

“WHAT DID HE LOOK LIKE?!” Dialga suddenly demanded, derailing Grovyle’s train of thought.

When Grovyle didn’t answer—being too startled by the wild look in Dialga’s eyes and how forceful the question had been—Dialga calmed his tone slightly and tried again. “LET ME CLARIFY… DID HE HAVE ANY SORT OF DISTINGUISHING FEATURES, OR DID HE JUST LOOK LIKE AN AVERAGE CELEBI?”

“…He was wearing a few odd accessories, but otherwise he looked normal,” Grovyle finally answered. He felt slightly confused when it caused Dialga to seem crestfallen, but before he could think of something to cheer him up he remembered another detail and added, “Well, unless his odd eye color would classify him as a different type of shiny celebi than Celebi here.”

“His eye color?” Celebi asked, cocking her head in amusement at the possibility that Grovyle had now been acquainted with two shiny pokémon of her species.

“Yes. His eyes were golden.”

Dialga pulled in sharp gasp before sitting straight up. “GOLDEN?” he repeated frantically, his eyes widening when Grovyle nodded in assent. “BUT THAT WOULD MEAN…” he trailed off, his gaze moving towards the Time Gear pedestal. He frowned and began to “mutter” in thought. “BUT IF IT REALLY WAS HIM, THEN WHY WOULD HEARING ABOUT HER MANNER OF DEATH MAKE HIM RELIEVED? UNLESS…”

He trailed off again and let his eyes become distant. Grovyle and Celebi glanced at each other, feeling slightly worried and wondering if they should go to the Oran Forest and fetch Dusknoir to help them decipher his master’s odd mood… or to help them subdue the Temporal pokémon if it turned out he was going crazy again. But then they jolted when Dialga finally came back to the present, threw back his head… and laughed. They then seriously considered going to get Dusknoir, since the laugh sounded far too joyous given the date.

“GROVYLE… CELEBI…” Dialga suddenly said, turning back towards them and causing them to jump. “I HAVE A JOB FOR YOU.”

Grovyle and Celebi blinked in confusion before their eyes widened in comprehension. “A… job? As in… right now?” Grovle asked, stunned.

“Is… is something wrong?” Celebi wondered aloud, sounding very concerned.

“NO, NO… NOTHING IS WRONG. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING…” Dialga paused to smirk. “BUT IT IS STILL VERY IMPORTANT THAT YOU DO THIS.”

“…Okay…” Celebi said, still sounding unsure. “What do you need us to do?”

Dialga nodded happily and jerked his head, opening a dimensional hole to his right.

“I NEED YOU TO TAKE THIS DIMENSIONAL HOLE BACK TO THE PAST AND OBSERVE WHAT LIFE WAS LIKE IN THAT TIME PERIOD.”

Celebi cocked her head and placed a hand near the edge of the hole. She closed her eyes in concentration, focusing on finding out the date it would lead them to. When she had it, her eyes snapped open in shock.

“But this is… today’s date about four years after Team Rainbow took the Time Gears to Temporal Tower!”

Grovyle’s jaw dropped. “Wha…?” he turned to Dialga. “Why would you want us to go to then?” he demanded.

Dialga smirked again and gave a shrug. “I TOLD YOU: I WANT YOU TO OBSERVE WHAT LIFE WAS LIKE. FOUR YEARS SHOULD BE ENOUGH TIME FOR THINGS TO HAVE SETTLED DOWN SINCE THE CRISIS AT TEMPORAL TOWER, BUT THAT DOES NOT NECESSARILY MEAN THAT YOU WON’T FIND ANYTHING… INTERESTING, TO REPORT.”

Grovyle frowned. He didn’t like how suspicious Dialga was acting…

“BESIDES… LAURA IS NOT THE ONLY FRIEND YOU LEFT BEHIND WHEN YOU DRAGGED MY FAITHFUL SERVANT DUSKNOIR BACK TO THAT DARK FUTURE, CORRECT?”

Grovyle’s eyes widened. “Paula…” he whispered before looking away, slightly shame-faced. “That’s right… she’s probably missing Laura too…”

Celebi slapped her forehead. “I can’t believe I never thought of travelling back to see her before! She probably thinks we’re dead as well!”

“EXACTLY,” Dialga said, giving another grin. “WHICH IS ALL THE MORE REASON TO GO BACK FOR A QUICK VISIT.”

Grovyle glanced back at him once more with a frown before sighing and rubbing his temples. “…Okay, I give in.” He straightened up, transitioning into serious mode. “Do you want us to go now, or do we have time to pack first?”

“Oh, my dear, you’re so paranoid!” Celebi chided, rolling her eyes. “Why would we need to pack if we’re merely going to observe?”

“It’s always good to be prepared,” Grovyle cautioned. “Besides, I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but the last time I went to the past I was labelled a wanted criminal.”

“I’m sure they would have repealed that by now.”

“You don’t know that… and there’s also the fact that—h-hey! Wait a minute!”

Celebi, tired of Grovyle’s attempts at making excuses, grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the Dimensional Hole. “Don’t worry so much! I’m sure everything will go splendidly!” she assured before—and without any warning—shoving him in. She waited until his surprised yelps and screaming faded away before turning back towards Dialga with a wide smile.

“We’ll give you a full report when we get back!” she told him before she remembered something. Her smile became mischievous when she added, “Oh! Make sure that you thwack Dusknoir and the sableye on the back of the head for being such sillies again this year if they return before us, okay?”

Dialga chuckled. “I WILL BE SURE TO DO THAT. HAVE A GOOD TIME.”

Celebi gave a salute before flying into the dimensional hole. Dialga watched as it flickered and closed, and then he settled down near the pedestal to allow the new memories of the past that had just become available to him to catch up and merge with the ones already in his head. He gave a soft, happy sigh as the image came to mind of a treecko with brilliant, rainbow-colored eyes smiling at him in greeting when he descended to the Hidden Land to see how she was coming along with repainting the murals…

“I HOPE LAURA WILL LIKE HER SWEET SIXTEEN PRESENT…”

--------

Grovyle groaned as he sat up, feeling sand shift beneath his claws (and internally wondering if that meant he’d ended up travelling back to a beach yet again), and shook his head to dispel the fog caused by the time travel. He looked around, locating Celebi—who, annoyingly, didn’t seem to have suffered any ill effects from the time travel like he had—and shooting her a weak glare. But she was too busy admiring the waves (well, that answered that question…) with wide, excited eyes to notice, so he quickly gave it up and settled for a soft sound of annoyance.

This caught Celebi’s attention and she turned to him with a big smile on her face. “My Dear Grovyle! You’re finally awake!” she exclaimed with glee before flying up and twirling in the air. “Isn’t this beach just amazing?” she gushed.

Grovyle chuckled minutely at her antics. “Yes, it is quite nice… but you’ve seen beaches like this before, remember?” he reminded her gently.

“Well, yes… but those were future beaches. This is a past beach! Just think: Laura and Paula may have played on one just like this when they took breaks from their exploration work!”

Grovyle tilted his head thoughtfully and looked more closely at his surroundings. “Actually… I think this is the beach they played on,” he said. “It looks like the one near Treasure Town, at any rate. What’s more…” he trailed off, looking up and squinting into the distance “…that outcrop of rock over there looks distinctly like a sharpedo, does it not? So that must be Sharpedo Bluff, where Laura, Paula, and I stayed for a while before retrieving the Time Gear from Treeshroud Forest.”

“Oh?” Celebi asked, flying a bit higher to get a closer look. “You’re right! It does look like a sharpedo! So that means that the Wigglytuff Guild must be nearby! That’s where Paula will be… right?”

“Most likely,” Grovyle agreed. But then he frowned slightly as a few other possible scenarios flitted through his head. “It’s been a few years, though, so she may have moved on by now.”

“But they’d probably know where she went if that was the case, yes?” Celebi asked, coming back down to hover at a more reasonable level. “Besides… the other members of the guild are your friends too, right?

Grovyle’s frown deepened and he crossed his arms, shifting over to look at the waves. “…I wouldn’t really call us ‘friends,’” he told her truthfully. “The only other member of the guild I really had the opportunity to talk with was Wigglytuff.”

Celebi pouted briefly before grinning again and tugging his arm. “Well now’s your chance!” she insisted.

Grovyle shook his head in amusement as he allowed her to lead him. “Now who’s the impatient one?” he teased. Celebi blushed and declined to answer.

Grovyle shook his head again and barked out a short laugh before something along the path caught his eye. “Hold on a moment, Celebi,” he requested, stopping in place. “This wasn’t here before.”

Celebi obligingly dropped his arm, turning back to look at what he’d seen. It appeared to be a building. It was a bit on the small side, but that just gave it an air of coziness. There was a colorful sign in front that read: “Rainbow’s Palette.” Celebi tried to look in the windows, but each one was blocked by blue-green curtains.

“Is it a shop?” Celebi wondered.

“It appears so,” Grovyle mused. “There’s a clay ‘SORRY, WE’RE CLOSED’ sign on the door…”

“Oh, I didn’t notice that,” Celebi said, floating closer to investigate. When she had affirmed the shop’s “closed” status, she headed back to Grovyle’s side… or at least, she was about to before she noticed another small structure slightly behind the shop. She tested the door, but it was locked. “Oh well,” she mentally shrugged. “We can always come back later.”

She zoomed back towards Grovyle and tugged on his arm again. “Come, my dear! The guild awaits!”

----------

Grovyle stared at the grate at his feet and swallowed nervously. He didn’t think the guild members would be hostile towards him or Celebi, but there was always the chance that they blamed him for Laura’s disappearance…

“Celebi… I think it would be best if you stayed behind me.”

Celebi rolled her eyes, but did as he said. Even though he was too stubborn and prideful to admit it to her face, she could tell that he was nervous. If letting him take the lead would give him some peace of mind, then she would gladly do it.

Grovyle stepped onto the grate. He took a breath and opened his mouth, preparing to call down and ask permission to enter the guild, but his words quickly died in his throat when the gates suddenly opened. He frowned, his deeply ingrained paranoia beginning to rise at how easy that had been. He cautiously poked his head around the corner of the door frame and scanned the enclosure for any danger. When he saw none, he glanced back at Celebi and silently jerked his head, indicating that she follow. She rolled her eyes again.

Grovyle cautiously climbed down the ladder, his frown deepening when he reached the bottom and saw that the second floor was empty.

“…Something’s not right here,” he muttered quietly. “I know it’s midday and most of the apprentices should be out exploring… but even so, the guild shouldn’t be this empty…”

“…Do you think something’s wrong?” Celebi asked in a whisper. When he nodded, she frowned. “But Dialga said that everything was fine!”

“He may have been referring to the ‘big picture,’” Grovyle reminded her. “It wouldn’t be the first time that he—did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Celebi asked, blinking as she watched Grovyle crouch low to the ground and slink over to the second ladder.

“I thought I heard something moving on the floor below us,” Grovyle explained, peering down the hole. “But it’s too dark to see…”

Grovyle suddenly nodded decisively and stood up, moving towards the side of the ladder. “Be prepared for anything!” he warned before foregoing the ladder in favor of leaping directly down the hole—thereby putting him in the optimal position if he needed to immediately launch an attack once he reached the bottom. Celebi—slightly startled by the sudden leap—quickly flew down after him.

---------

The members of the guild, meanwhile, who had all assembled on the bottom floor of the guild for Laura’s “surprise” Sweet Sixteen party were hurriedly scrambling to find good hiding spots so that they could surprise the Birthday girl as much as possible when she and Paula finally made it over. They weren’t actually anticipating being able to surprise her very much, though, since they’d told her repeatedly of their plans over the past few days. But it had been a necessary evil considering that the last three times they’d tried to throw her a surprise party without warning her first she’d freaked out and either fainted, attacked them, or attacked them and then fainted—which was never a good way to start a celebration.

“Are you SURE it’s them, Diglett?” Loudred asked in as quiet a voice as he could manage.

“Who else could it be?” Diglett whispered back as he popped out of the ground and hurried to get into position. “Everyone in town knows that today is Laura’s Birthday and that we’re throwing her a surprise party.”

“Meh heh heh… Including her,” Croagunk snickered.

“Shush!” Chatot ordered. “I think I hear them!”

There was silence for a few moments, and then the guild heard a light “THUD!” followed by a… soft fluttering sound? They could just barely see the outlines of two pokémon in the dim light, and when the one in front took a cautious step forward…

“SURPRISE!” they all shouted, jumping out of their hiding spots as the lights flicked on. “HAPPY—GAAH!”

They were cut off by a sudden barrage of attacks and had to immediately duck back into their hiding places to avoid getting hit.

“You really think I’d fall for something like that?” they heard a gruff voice—which, while it did sound sort of familiar, definitely did not belong to Laura or Paula… especially considering it was male—demand. “That has got to be the worst trap ever—and trust me, I’ve seen some pretty bad ones.”

“Uh, My Dear? I think you need to take another look around… I really don’t think this was a trap,” came another voice. This one was feminine, but it didn’t sound like it belonged to Laura or Paula either…

“What do you—” the first pokémon began sharply before breaking off. There was a momentary pause before, “—oh,” he finished lamely, presumably because he’d finally gotten a good look at the room and seen the party decorations, which were now likely ruined from his attack. “Uh… My apologies?”

“Wh—Your APOLOGIES?!” Loudred demanded indignantly, though he still stayed hidden in case the crazy party crasher decided he wasn’t through attacking yet. “You just ATTACKED us!”

“It was a misunderstanding, I assure you.”

“Hm… Seems like you cause a lot of those whenever you travel back to this time period, don’t you?” his companion giggled.

“I—Last time was not my fault Celebi, and you know it!”

Wigglytuff frowned. “‘Celebi?’ ‘Time traveling?’” he repeated. Then he blinked as he realized why the voice sounded familiar. “Friendly-friend Grovyle! Is that you?!” he asked, his voice full of hope as he sprang up from his hiding place.

“WHAT? GROVYLE?” the others repeated in shock, jumping out to see for themselves.

Sure enough, there, standing near the foot of the ladder and glaring at his companion—who appeared to be a… shiny celebi?—was Grovyle. The same Grovyle who had first become known to the guild for his theft of the Time Gears. The same Grovyle who hadn’t actually been stealing them, but was, instead, trying to collect them to save the world from becoming paralyzed. The same Grovyle who wasn’t supposed to exist anymore because of the fact that the world had been saved from that paralyzed future!

Grovyle dropped his glare and slowly turned to face the room. “Er… Yes,” he said, gulping and giving a somewhat nervous wave. “H-hello Wigglytuff. It’s… good to see you again.”

“Hello everyone! My name’s Celebi!” Celebi suddenly introduced herself with a big smile. “It’s so nice to meet you! My Dear Grovyle has told me so much about you!”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Friendly-friend Celebi!” Wigglytuff greeted, running over to shake her hand. “Paula told us all about you too!”

“Oh really? Did she say nice things?”

“Of course! She told us all about how you helped her, Laura, and Grovyle find the Passage of Time and—”

“Squawk! W-wait a moment, Guildmaster!” Chatot interrupted, wings fluttering in agitation. “Aren’t you the least bit curious as to how these two are here when they’re not supposed to exist anymore?!”

“Hey, hey! Or why they didn’t come back sooner to let us know they were alive?!” Corphish added.

Celebi took the liberty of answering. “Well the first answer is a bit complicated, and the second is, ah…” she cringed in embarrassment and began twiddling her thumbs nervously. “…W-well, it took a lot of time to rebuild and get the two opposing histories to stabilize with each other, so we just, uh… never actually thought about it until today! Tee hee…?”

“Well, golly!” Bidoof exclaimed, seeming oblivious to the dumbfounded silence afflicting the others. “What makes today so special?” he wondered.

Grovyle—who had been staring perplexedly at Celebi’s interactions with the denizens of the past—glanced over at him and quirked his lips into a sad grin. “Well, there were a few reasons,” the Grass-type said vaguely, deciding not to tell them that today would have been Laura’s Birthday for fear of making them upset, “but the main one is that Dialga—”

“Oh my gosh! Dialga is involved?” Sunflora suddenly panicked. “He’s not going crazy again, is he? Eek! That would be terrible!”

“No, no, no! It’s nothing like that!” Celebi assured. “He just thinks that enough time has passed since the crisis at Temporal Tower that things should be settled down here, and he wanted us to come observe how everyone was getting along and make sure you were all doing fine.

“Phew…” Sunflora sighed, feeling greatly relieved. “You had me worried!”

“Meh heh heh… You seem very close to Dialga, considering that he spent ‘years’ trying to kill you…” Croagunk mused.

Grovyle winced. “I suppose it is a bit odd when you put it that way,” he agreed. “But… well, it’s complicated. When Celebi said that we had been doing a lot of rebuilding, she wasn’t just talking about the tangible things.”

“Besides, Dialga isn’t really so bad when he’s not being influenced by darkness,” Celebi added. “He even suggested that while we were here we should pay a visit to some of our old friends!”

Wigglytuff cocked his head. “Oh, oh? You mean like Paula and—oh! This is perfect!” he suddenly exclaimed clapping his hands together with excitement. “Here we were all thinking that there wouldn’t be any surprises today… but you two will be the best surprises ever!”

Grovyle blinked and shared a glance with Celebi, “I beg your pardon?” he asked, feeling a rising sense of trepidation.

“Oh my gosh! You’re right, Guildmaster!” Sunflora gasped, clapping her leaves to her cheeks when she came to the same conclusion as Wigglytuff. “She’ll never see it coming!”

Suddenly it clicked with the remaining guild members. “OH! RIGHT!” Loudred exclaimed before turning towards Diglett. “How much time do we have before they’re supposed to GET here?”

But before Diglett could answer, the ringing of a bell echoed through the guild, signaling that someone was at the gates.

“…Apparently none! Everyone, get into position! It has to be them this time!”

Grovyle and Celebi looked on in befuddlement as everyone began scrambling for a hiding spot. Corphish noticed them and scurried back over. “Hey, hey! What are you two doing? You’ve got to hide!” he chided, pushing them down to crouch behind the ruined food table. “Now stay there and keep quiet!” he ordered, rushing off to dim the lights again before hurrying to find his own hiding place.

The duo from the future was left bewildered, sitting in the dark, and Celebi leaned over to whisper, “Grovyle, is everyone in the past always this strange?”

“If they are, I certainly didn’t encounter it last time I was here,” he whispered back.

“Shush! No talking!” Chatot ordered, causing them to quickly silence. Although, that might have been due more to the fact that they could hear quiet voices coming from the floor above them. Voices that seemed very familiar…

“…maintain that I wouldn’t have fainted if they hadn’t been acting so weird leading up to it.”

“Okay, fair point. But still… did you really expect that they would just let an excuse to party slip by?”

“Considering that I outright said I didn’t want one? I kind of hoped they would.”

“Oh come on, you know deep down that you enjoy that stuff just as much as they do.”

There was a pause, and Grovyle could practically hear the grin in the voice when the second speaker interpreted her companion’s silence as an unwilling agreement and said, “But anyways… you won’t attack them this time, right? I mean… they did warn you they were going to do this.”

“…I can make no promises that if they all jump out and yell ‘Surprise!’ I won’t—”

Just then the lights came on and everyone, except for the duo from the future, who were still trying to puzzle out the identity of the voices, jumped out and yelled, “SURPRISE! HAPPY SWEET SIXTEEN, LAURA!”

“Laura?!” Grovyle thought, stunned, but feeling a sudden surge of hope pouring through his soul. “Did they just say—?!”

He shot up from his hiding place, and his jaw dropped at the sight of Paula standing slightly off to the side of the ladder, sheepishly rubbing her neck under the scowl of the familiar-looking treecko who was standing beside her.

“Did they just say Laura?!” Celebi, who had also shot up at the mention of Laura’s name, gasped in joy.

At the sound of the voice the treecko stopped scowling at her partner, who was now slack-jawed with shock, and whipped around, her rainbow-colored eyes wide with a strange, yet perfect, mixture of disbelief and hope.

At the sight of her eyes—eyes which he would recognize anywhere—Grovyle drunkenly staggered forward a few steps. “L-Laura…?” he whispered hopefully, tears threatening to fall.

“G-Grovyle…?” the treecko—Laura!— whispered back, just as hopefully, as she too took a few timid steps forward, tears forming in her own eyes and slowly rolling down her cheeks.

At the sight of his long-time partner crying—actually, finally, crying—what little composure Grovyle had left completely shattered and his tears overflowed. The salty liquid blurred his vision as he ran forward and scooped Laura into his arms, twirling her around in joy before hugging her tightly. “Laura… you’re alive! You’re really, actually… alive!” he laughed out in a happy mantra.

“Grovyle, Grovyle, Grovyle!” Laura chanted back just as joyfully as she fiercely returned the hug.

---------

Eventually the duo calmed down enough to be able to at least partially focus their attention on something besides each other, and the group sat down to catch up and try to figure out how this miraculous reunion was possible. Of course, Grovyle was still reluctant to let Laura out of his sight, so he made to sit as close to her as possible and hold one of her hands so tightly that it was just shy of being labelled as a death grip. Despite being at an age when such displays of affection were usually very embarrassing, Laura wasn’t complaining. Instead she was reveling in the contact.

“I just can’t believe you’re really here…” Grovyle murmured for the tenth time, giving Laura another tight hug. “You even got your eye color back!”

“Yeah… and that’s not the only thing she got back… Grovy. Meh heh heh…” Croagunk mentioned mischievously.

Grovyle cringed at his old nickname and scowled down at Laura in betrayal that she had shared it with her friends… before he blinked suddenly in realization and his eyes widened at the implications. “Wait a minute… you got your memories back too?” he exclaimed incredulously.

Laura nodded. “Most of them,” she clarified. “I’m still missing a few, but considering who I am…” she trailed off with a shrug, as if to say that the situation wasn’t unusual or worrisome in the slightest.

Grovyle immediately noticed the jewelry she was wearing and couldn’t help but ask, “Isn’t that the bracelet you told me was a gift from your goddess? It looks a little different, but…”

“Yeah, it’s the same one,” Paula confirmed. “Apparently it was still stuck in that keyhole in Relatia’s Cave when she found it.”

“I finally found the letter you left there for me as well,” Laura added.

“It was still there? How odd,” Grovyle murmured, frowning in thought.

“Why is it odd? You already admitted that I was right about the cave!”

Grovyle winced in embarrassment and scrambled for something to save face, “Ah, W-well… uh… that may be true, but… um…”

Corphish couldn’t take it any longer. He understood that this was a very emotional time for everyone and that it was only natural that Grovyle and Laura would want the chance to talk since they hadn’t seen each other in years—not to mention the fact that Laura now had more of a context to work from—but he had a very important question to ask that had been pressing on his mind from the moment he saw Grovyle and Celebi in the world of the past. “So… hey, hey!” he suddenly blurted out. “I know you said the answer was complicated… but I’ve just got to know! What did happen to that whole ‘pokémon from the future have to disappear when they change the past’ deal?”

Celebi looked over from where she was sitting beside Grovyle and Laura and fondly watching their interactions. “Well… we did disappear. But only for a few moments,” she explained. “We were surprised too, but Dialga told us that someone who was ‘higher than himself’ brought us all back.”

“Wait… everyone got brought back?” Paula asked with a frown. “Including the pokémon like Dusknoir and the sableye?”

“Yes. They were all still alive—if only barely, considering what we had just gone through—when you and Laura changed the past, so they got brought back too,” Grovyle affirmed, causing mixed emotions among the assembled.

“…How are they doing?” Laura asked quietly, looking up at Grovyle with worry.

Grovyle gave a sad, soft sigh, “As good as can be expected considering that we all thought you were dead.”

Laura winced and opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could get the words out Loudred interrupted with, “Wait, wait, WAIT! You thought she was DEAD? Why would you think SHE was dead when EVERYONE ELSE—including the BAD GUYS—came back?”

“It isn’t as if that was our first assumption,” Celebi defended. “When Laura didn’t reappear on Temporal Tower’s Pinnacle with us, at first we figured that she had just reappeared in the past. But when we asked Dialga, he said that you hadn’t, Laura… and then when he couldn’t see you anywhere in the future… we had no choice but to assume the worst.”

“So… where were you all those months, Laura?” Paula asked, confused. “If you weren’t here… and you weren’t there... then…?”

“…I don’t know,” Laura admitted quietly, biting her lip and still feeling upset about all the worry she had caused everyone. “The only thing I remember about that time is what I told you when I woke up after you and Bidoof found me on the Beach.”

“…Could you repeat it for those who weren’t there at the time?” Grovyle asked, a brow raised expectantly.

“Uh… It was something about colors and… loneliness? I think?” Paula obliged. “There was more, but…”

“‘Colors and loneliness?’” Grovyle repeated in surprise. “Hm… That sounds a bit like Dusknoir’s original theory...”

Chatot blinked. “Squawk! What?!” he demanded. “Dusknoir’s theory? Since when do you listen to him?!”

Celebi ignored him, choosing to question a different part of Grovyle’s thoughts, “But didn’t Dialga say that was unlikely?”

Grovyle shrugged, the motion a bit awkward considering the precious bundle he was still holding in his arms, before replying, “Dialga isn’t perfect. For example: He didn’t even bother to double-check Laura’s possible location, and it turns out that she did show up back in the past. Okay, granted, it apparently took her a lot longer to reappear than it did us, but still… and then if you take into account what I told you about that meeting with Palkia…”

He trailed off when he heard a small “Um,” from his lap and looked down to see that Laura was frowning up at him.

“What was Dusknoir’s theory?” she asked.

“He thought that, considering you aren’t actually from the paralyzed future—a fact which, along with your age, you neglected to tell me!—you had been transported back to where he originally took you from,” Grovyle explained, still feeling somewhat annoyed, even years later, that she had kept what he considered vital information from him.

The guild members and Paula’s eyes widened and their jaws dropped at that bit of knowledge, but Laura simply blushed in embarrassment. “W-well it didn’t seem that important!” she weakly excused herself.

“It didn’t seem important that during our entire journey you were just a little kid?” Grovyle asked incredulously.

“You were a child for part of it too!”

“It didn’t seem important to mention that all your knowledge about time and theories on the world of the past came from PERSONAL EXPERIENCE?!”

“Well it’s not like I experienced it for very long…”

“It was still experience!” Grovyle hissed in exasperation.

Laura opened her mouth to retort again, but she was cut off by Sunflora frantically waving her leaves in a “stop” motion and saying, “Oh my gosh! Wait a minute! Laura, what did Grovyle mean when he said you weren’t from the paralyzed future?!”

Laura’s face drained of color and she stammered, “I… uh, w-well…”

Upon hearing Laura’s distress, Grovyle took a deep breath, calming himself down before explaining, “Apparently Laura wasn’t actually born in the pokemon world; she was born on Earth—the human world.”

Unfortunately, he was drowned out by the voices of everyone else exclaiming, “WHAT?! LAURA YOU WERE BORN IN THE HUMAN WORLD?!” with jaws dropped.

“But was Dusknoir right, Laura? Did you end up back home?”Celebi quickly cut in, anticipating that someone would soon ask a frantic question demanding further explanation.

At Celebi’s question Laura’s face took on an uncharacteristically hard look—complete with a bitter scowl—and she turned away, crossing her arms. “That place is not my home,” she said emphatically. “Yes, I may have been born there, and, yes, I may have spent the first few years of my life there… but that place has never been my home!”

Grovyle looked down at her, several choice memories suddenly coming to mind like pieces of a puzzle, and his eyes widened with a sudden, horrifying understanding. “Laura…” he tentatively began, “were your guardians really that bad?”

Laura sighed sadly, dropping her arms and glancing back up at her old friend. “Grovyle,” she quietly said, “life in the paralyzed future was a paradise in comparison.”

Everyone stared at her in horror, but, upon seeing that a few mouths were opening and correctly assuming that their owners were about to ask for more information, Laura quickly continued, “In any case… I don’t think I went back there. If I had, then Relatia would have told me when she visited here during the whole fiasco when the Time Gears were losing energy.”

Grovyle nodded in agreement. “Yes, that does make sense—” he suddenly paused as her words caught up with him. “Wait… WHAT?! That goddess of yours actually came here?! When did—? Wait. What was that about the Time Gears losing energy?!”

Laura winced, “Uh… It’s a long story. But you don’t have to worry about it! She and Mason assured us that the problem was fixed, so…”

“Who the heck is Mason?” Grovyle demanded.

“Oh!” Laura exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with happiness. “Right, you wouldn’t know him! He’s—”

But she was cut off when there was a giant flash of light in the room, leaving a familiar, golden-eyed celebi in its wake.

The celebi’s eyes roamed around, and a huge grin split his face when they finally located Laura (internally questioning why she was holding the hand of a strange—yet vaguely familiar—grovyle, but deciding he could wait until later to figure out the reason since she didn’t seem to be upset or in danger). “Surprise!” he yelled, opening his arms for a hug. “Happy Sweet Sixteen, Laura!”

“Mason!” Laura cried out in delight, all but wrenching her hand from Grovyle’s to accept the invitation of the celebi’s open arms.

Grovyle, for his part, was stunned that the sudden presence of this stranger had so quickly and effectively cut short his reunion with his old friend—who he’d thought had been dead for the past four years or so—and began to feel pangs of jealousy gather in his heart. Pangs which only grew stronger when Croagunk playfully elbowed him, teasing, “Meh heh heh… In answer to your question, Grovyle… he is Mason.”

(By the way, Mason was, indeed, the celebi that Grovyle alludes to fighting with earlier in the day. The reason he’s so upset about the flowers is that his plan for Laura’s birthday present was to make her a giant bouquet of Treasure’s Desire flowers. In preparation for that, he planted a bunch of seeds and time-traveled far into the future, so that he could ensure that the flowers would be the pinnacle of flowery perfection. Unfortunately, when he finally reached the spot where he’d planted the flowers... he found evidence that they’d been cut. He tracked down the source and found--you guessed it--Grovyle. This, among other things, is why he spends many of the next few chapters in a state of annoyance with him--and Grovyle has his own reasons to be annoyed with Mason, in turn, as soon as he figures out who he is. Laura, meanwhile, is mostly oblivious to their annoyance with each other (or is at least pretending to be), in part because they’re trying to hide their animosity from her. Celebi is genuinely oblivious, and wouldn’t really care one way or the other. Mainly she’s just distracted by the novelty of the situation and getting to explore everything the town has to offer, though. She may or may not be the one to let slip to the others about Duskull’s relationship to a certain Dusknoir. I’m still undecided on that front, though, as that bit of information might be better served coming to light/getting mentioned by someone at a later time I have in mind.)

#pokemon mystery dungeon #explorers of sky #the world's treasure #writing #fanfiction #spoilers #massive spoilers

[lostinshawnsmemory]

Figure You Out: Chapter 2 - Shawn x African OC

A/N: First of all I wanted to say a massive thank you to everyone who liked the first chapter. I got so many nice comments and great feedback, it made me emotional. I love these characters and I’m happy that you do too. Thank you to @vnv21 and @rulerofnocountry for reading my drafts

PS: There isn’t a specific song attached to this chapter but I’ve created a playlist that I’ll link at the bottom of each chapter, rather than linking each song.

Word Count: 4.0k

Warnings: None

MASTERLIST

Series Masterlist

Fic Playlist

SHAWN’S POV 

Did he stalk her Instagram? Yes, yes he did. ‘Everyone does it though’ he thought to himself as he picked up his phone for the umpteenth time. 

He wanted to know more about her, but her Instagram didn’t give much away. From what he could tell, she loved photography, music, food, and travel and her friends claimed she was hilarious, but there was nothing there to tell you what kind of person she was. As ridiculous as it sounded, he wanted to get to know her. ‘You’re never going to get to know her if you don’t talk to her.’

He met new people all the time and could tell when there was more to them than meets the eye and this was definitely one of those cases. They hadn’t spoken for long but there was something about her. She had a lot more going on below the surface. 

He tapped the arrow icon in the top right corner of his screen, then tapped on the new message icon and searched for her name. Before he could lose his courage he typed out a simple message. 

*Hi T. I hope you got home safe.*

Then he deleted it before he pressed send. Something about messaging her like that felt off. ‘She’d think it’s weird considering we just met.’ 

It had to be something worth starting a conversation over. He ran his hands through his hair. ‘You’re overthinking it, Shawn. Just let it occur naturally.’ With that, he locked his phone and put it on the table. 

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

As she was getting ready the next day Tolani recalled what happened the night before. She was lucky she didn’t have a hangover when she woke up considering the fact she drank a lot more than she meant to. ‘You need to be more careful’ she scolded herself. Her thoughts soon turned to Shawn Mendes. Her friends had grilled her to no end on the ride back to their dorm. “I can't believe you were flirting with Shawn Mendes!” Nicole screamed. Tolani looked in the rear view mirror and gave the driver an apologetic smile, which he returned. 

“I wasn't flirting with him.” 

“Yeah right” Desire scoffed with an eye roll. “The two of you were deep in conversation and giggling for at least 45 minutes. Definitely looked like flirting from where I was standing.”

“Did you at least get his phone number?” Nicole was almost vibrating with excitement. “This is literally like something out of a fanfic!” She placed her hands in her heart and squealed.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but this isn’t fanfiction and no, I didn't get his phone number.” She conveniently left out the part where she had given him her Instagram. ‘It’s not like it's going to go anywhere.’ She thought.

“How could you do this to me?” Nicole wailed. “You're supposed to be my friend.”

“No seriously. You fumbled the bag on this one cause he was seriously into you, I could tell.” Desire added. 

Tolani gave a non-committal grunt and spent the rest of the car ride with her head leaning on the window, deep in thought. ‘So what that he has my Instagram? Nothing is going to happen.’ 

The sound of her phone brought her back to the present. It was a reminder that she was taking a tour of the campus and registering for classes today. She also had a text from her mum wishing her good luck and asking her to call when she had time. ‘I’ve got to remember to do that.’

It was only then she noticed the notifications and stared at her phone in shock. Shawn Mendes had followed her on Instagram. What she didn’t expect were the hundreds of comments on her photos asking who she was and why Shawn followed her. ‘I did not see that coming. Even though I probably should’ve.’ No messages from him though. For a split second Tolani felt a stab of disappointment. She had gotten her hopes up based on what everyone around her was saying. ‘Tolani you need to get over it. Nothing is going to happen.’  She looked down at her phone again, the sheer amount of messages and comments made her uneasy. ‘I can’t deal with this right now.’ She stuffed her phone in her pocket, picked up her bag and walked out of the door. 

The campus tour was exactly what she needed to get her mind off things. York University was huge, much bigger than she thought and it was going to take weeks to get her bearings. It also didn’t help that all her classes were on the other side of campus. ‘Guaranteed I’m going to get lost more than once.’  she thought. 

Meeting her personal tutor while registering for classes wasn’t as nerve-wracking as she thought. He was an older man who asked her questions about how she was adjusting to living in Canada and gave her advice about starting university and living in a new environment. After their conversation, she felt a lot more at ease about this new chapter in her life.

On her way back to her dorm she couldn’t help but take a photo of the library and put it on her Instagram story captioning it ‘Home for the next 4 years.’ With a smile, she has put in her earphones and walked back to her dorm. 

While she was walking, Tolani felt a tap on her shoulder. She flinched and whirled round in surprise to see Kyle standing in front of her with a lopsided grin. “I’m sorry I scared you.” He said with an apologetic look on his face. “It’s just that I called you a few times and you didn’t answer.” 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t hear you.” She pointed to her earphones that were still in her ears. 

“What are you up to?” 

“Oh, just taking a campus tour, need to make sure I can find my way around.” She gestured around her. 

“I can give you a tour if you don’t mind?” 

“Yeah. That would be nice.” She smiled politely. “Thanks.” 

The two set off as Kyle showed her even more of the campus than she would have been to explore on her own. He told her that his older brother had studied at York and he spent a lot of time here visiting him. After a few minutes of somewhat awkward silence, we turned to her. 

“Desire told me that you weren’t happy about the lion comment last night.” 

“Yeah. It wasn’t funny. Comments like that are ignorant and offensive and I don’t appreciate them.” Her lips twisting in disapproval.

“I’m sorry. I made you feel that way. Can we start over?”  

“Sure.” She replied. The two continued their tour, then walked back to their dorm. 

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

Back in the safety of her room Tolani let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She was exhausted from all the walking and wanted nothing more than to lay in bed and listen to music. First, she needed to call her mum. 

“Tolani!” 

“Hi mum.” She smiled at mum through the camera. ‘Thank God for FaceTime.’ 

“Ba wo ni?” (How are you?)

“Mo wa dada” (I’m fine) she replied slipping seamlessly into Yoruba. 

“How was registration?” 

“Good. I’m all ready for classes to start next week. It’s exciting but also incredibly nerve-wracking.” 

“You have nothing to be worried about.” Her mum replied. 

Even though they hadn’t been on the phone for long, it felt good to talk to her mum. Being away from home was never easy and adding the fact that she was almost 10,000 miles away and in a completely different time zone didn’t help. 

“Tolani I want you to enjoy your time there but I also want you to focus on your work. Okay?”

“Yes Mum.” She replied in English. Her parents were very much work oriented. Everything else was a potential distraction. Tolani understood that it came from a place of love but it was sometimes difficult to open up to them. 

When the phone call ended, she was about to toss her phone on her bed she noticed another Instagram notification. It was hard to see in the midst of the comments still flooding her Instagram, but it was undeniable.

*Shawn Mendes replied to your story.*

Shawn: Pulling a Hermione I see?

‘A Harry Potter joke. Wooow’ she thought as liked the message and typed out a reply

Tolani: Harry Potter jokes. Is that what we’re doing?

She put her phone down and waited. Two minutes later he responded.

Shawn: They are the best type of jokes.😁

Tolani: Are they though… because I can think of at least 10 other jokes that are better than that one 🙄

Shawn: Maybe I could hear them one day.

That message stopped her dead in her tracks. Was that attempt to ask her out or was she reading into the message too much? She was confident that they weren’t flirting at the club but upon reflection maybe they were. 

Tolani: Was that an attempt to ask me out?🤨

Shawn: Yes and No. More of me seeing if you were open to the idea of me asking you out, rather than me actually doing it. 

Tolani: So I’m taking that as a yes. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Even though it wasn’t in person, the conversation flowed easily. Tolani wouldn’t have said that she was bad at talking to strangers but she was definitely on the introverted side of the scale. 

Shawn: I guess you could say that.

She didn’t know how to respond to that. He wasn’t asking her out but letting her know that he wanted to. ‘Would I say yes if he asked me out? I don’t know.’ She flinched as her phone vibrated in her lap. Her heart leapt into her chest as she opened the message from him. 

Shawn: Would you like to go out for coffee sometime? That was me asking you out btw 😉

Tolani: Like a date? 🤨

Shawn: Ideally yes, but it doesn't have to be if you don’t want it to be. We could go as friends 😊

Tolani: Are we friends?

Shawn: Let’s not label it right now.

He was definitely flirting with her and she wasn’t sure how to react to that. She could picture his smile and the way his eyes seemed to sparkle. He was definitely attractive so that wasn’t the issue. ‘There’s no harm in getting coffee as friends right?’ 

Tolani: I’d love to get coffee.

Shawn: Is it a date?

Tolani: Let’s not label it right now.

Shawn: Using my own words against me. Why do I feel like I’m going to regret that?

Tolani: I can guarantee it 😉

Shawn: Are you free tomorrow? There’s a really cool coffee shop we can go to called Early Bird on Queen street.

Tolani: I am. How about 11 o'clock? 

Shawn: Perfect. Meet you there?

Tolani: It’s a date. 

Shawn: What happened to no labels? 🤨

Tolani: I’m blocking you now. 😂🤦🏾‍♀️

Shawn: Haha! See you tomorrow T.

She stared at her phone in shock. She had a coffee date with a famous pop star. One that she knew nothing about. ‘A google search won’t hurt right?’ 

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

Tolani was running late. She’d gotten on the wrong bus and was headed in the wrong direction before she realised what was going on. Luckily she was able to find her way to the coffee shop but was fifteen minutes late. 

The coffee shop didn’t take long to find. It felt warm and inviting as she walked in. With white-brick walls, marble countertops and the addition of greenery, it was the perfect minimalist café.

He was seated towards the back on his phone, completely engrossed in what he was looking at, so much so that he didn’t notice her till she spoke. 

“A pop star sitting all alone.”She said with a smirk “Aren't you scared you’ll get mobbed?” 

He turned to face her and she was struck with how good looking he was. Photos and terrible club lighting really didn’t do him justice. She couldn’t tell what colour his eyes were that night, but she could see now that they were a golden-brown and much like that night they were sparkling. He had an angular face with a strong jaw but also rosy cheeks and a soft demeanour. His hair was curly and pushed back from his face save for an ‘S’ shaped curl on his forehead. ‘How ironic.’ 

“I like to live dangerously.” He quipped. 

“I’m sorry I’m late.” She apologised. “I’m still getting used to public transport here. Ended up in on the wrong bus going in the wrong direction.”

“It’s okay T.” He flashed a smile. “Although I did start to think you stood me up.”

“Not gonna lie I considered it.” 

“I don’t think my ego would ever recover.” He chuckled. “I didn’t order yet because I wanted to wait for you, but I have been getting weird looks so there’s that.”

The pair went up to the counter and ordered their coffee. Shawn ordered an Americano and Tolani ordered a latte. 

“So…Harry Potter jokes…” Tolani gave him an inquisitive look as she took the seat opposite him dropping her handbag by her foot. “Of all the conversations starters, why that one?”

“Well, you posted a photo of a library, York University right? I could tell from the location tag.” After she nodded he continued. “And that was the first thing that popped into my head.”

“So you're a Harry Potter nerd.” 

“If by nerd you mean I absolutely love it, then yes.” He nodded. “You?”

“Meh.” She shrugged. “It wasn't a part of my life growing up so I have no real attachment to it.”

“What?!”

“I mean I’ve seen the movies and they’re good, don’t get me wrong. I can see why people like it but it’s not for me.” 

“Could’ve sworn everyone loved Harry Potter.” he said absentmindedly.

‘Not in my African household’ Tolani thought. 

“Indulge my ego for a little bit,” Shawn said after a few minutes. “Did you seriously not know who I was the other night?”

“You looked familiar but I couldn’t place your face till my friend told me your name and mentioned Stitches.” 

“Really?” he looked genuinely surprised. 

“I guess your music isn’t super popular back home” she shrugged as she took a sip of her drink, flinching at the heat. 

“Where is home?”

“I’m from Lagos in Nigeria”

“The only Lagos I’m familiar with is in Portugal.” He looked at her apologetically. 

“I’m not surprised.” Of all the things she expected from Shawn Mendes, Nigerian geography was not one. “If you didn’t know the Lagos in Portugal I’d be disappointed seeing as you’re Portuguese.”

“How did you know that?” He looked at her quizzically.

She shrugged casually “You’d be surprised what you can find on google.”

“You googled me?” Shawn exclaimed. She expected him to look surprised but he looked somewhat excited. 

“I had to! Stranger danger and all that.” 

“And what did google tell you?” He leaned forward a curious look on his face. 

“Everything. I know your address, bank account details and social security number.” 

The look of surprise quickly morphed into one of amusement, as he started laughing. His laugh was contagious and sure enough, Tolani was laughing as well.

“Might as well go home since you know everything there is to know.”

When their laughter subsided, they both looked at it each other, the awkward silence felt like another person was sitting at the table  until Shawn spoke

“What’s Lagos like?”

Tolani thought about her hometown and got a small twinge of homesickness. “Lagos has… the most incredible vibe, it’s one of the most vibrant and chaotic places but you learn to thrive on that chaos. And I may be biased but it has some of the best food and nightlife ever.” 

She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone and showed him a photo that she took. 

“That’s Lagos. Well, one photo of it I took in a moving car”

“As far moving car photos go, that’s pretty good” Shawn said taking a sip of his coffee. “How does it compare to living in Toronto?”

“I haven’t been here very long but I’m loving it so far. Lagos and Toronto are really different, it’s really hard to describe but the energy is different here. And I like that, getting to experience new places.”

“That’s one of the things I love about what I get to do. Seeing new places and meeting new people.” 

“Tell me about that.”

Shawn told her about touring. He’d just finished touring in Europe and was home for 3 weeks before starting the North American leg of his tour. He told her about the energy in each city, and what made each one different. 

One thing stood out to her as he was speaking and that was the way he spoke about performing. She could tell just from his description that he loved what he did more than anything. He was gesticulating wildly while telling a funny story about how his best friend Brian got hurt.

She took it all in, cataloguing his mannerisms and the excited way he talked about the most minute details.

“I’m so sorry! I’ve monopolised the entire conversation.” He pressed his lips together clearly displeased.

“Trust me I don’t mind.” Tolani started tapping absentmindedly on the rim of her coffee cup. “Listening to you talk about touring is way more interesting than me going on about my life.” 

“I’m going to have to disagree. I asked you on this date to find out more about you. So let’s hear it.” 

“What happened to no labels?” She said with a wry smile and a raised eyebrow. 

He narrowed his eyes like he could tell that she was deflecting. “I only said that to make feel more comfortable about this.” He gestured between them. 

“Who said I was uncomfortable?” She crossed her arms across her chest. 

“I’m sorry… I just, I-“ he stuttered.

“Shawn, I’m kidding” she placed her hand on his. 

She could see the slightly skeptical look in his eye so she steered the conversation towards a more comfortable territory, music. 

“SO apart from Stitches, I’m not that familiar with your music. What songs would you recommend I listen to?”

“How about all of them?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I think they’re pretty good.”

“I don’t know why people think you’re humble cause to me it’s the opposite.” she said playfully rolling her eyes. 

“People think I’m humble?” 

“I told you. Google… and Twitter. People LOVE you on Twitter.”

“We never actually talked about what you found during your Google search.”

Tolani narrowed your eyes. “You really want to know?”

“Trust me I really do.” he nodded. 

“There may or may not have been something about Grammy nominations, 3 number 1 albums and performing for the Queen of England. I have to say, it's insane that you’ve achieved so much. “ she gave an approving nod. 

His face lit up. ‘He must really care about my opinion.’

“Okay, to answer your question, it’s a harder question than you think.” He strummed his hands on the table deep in thought. “While I think you should listen to everything, you should definitely listen to Lost in Japan, Where Were You in The Morning, In my Blood, Memories, Why and Bad Reputation.”

“Are those your favourites?” 

“Yeah. I feel like those songs encompass who I am as an artist.” 

“I’ll listen to them and critique them later.” 

“What about you? All I know is that you like Kanye and that your best album opinion is wrong.” 

Tolani rolled her eyes. “I'm not getting into this argument with you.” 

“Only cause you know you’ll lose.” Shawn feigned a cough. 

“I’m not falling for it.” She said adamantly shaking her head.

“Okay,” Shawn replied holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Apart from Kanye, what else do you listen to?” 

“Honestly. I’ll listen to anything, but afrobeat has my heart.”

“Afrobeat?”

‘Of course, he doesn’t know what it is Tolani.’ she mentally smacked herself. “Afrobeat is one of the most fascinating genres because it’s made of other genres specific to the African continent like Fuji music and highlife, while combining it with more western genres like funk and jazz.  It’s something that transcends music, it’s way more than that.”

“How so?”

“It’s directly linked to history, culture and to a way of life. It sounds ridiculous but you don’t just listen to it, you feel it, you live it, you experience it. It’s hard to explain.”

She looked up to see him looking at her. “Hey. You’re looking at one person who understands what that means. I hope you could play it for me at some point.” 

“I haven’t decided if I like you enough yet.” She replied. “Sharing Music is a big deal. You can’t rush these things.” 

“Wow, you’ve really hurt my feelings.” He held his heart pretending to be heartbroken. “What am I supposed to do now?” 

”You’re not funny.” 

Shawn pouted and at that moment Tolani started giggling uncontrollably and didn’t stop even though she was gathering looks from the people around her.

“Your giggles say otherwise.”

“And there is the aforementioned ego.”

Before he could say more, his phone rang. He gave her an apologetic look before answering the call and talking to someone named Andrew. Tolani took that moment to check her own phone and answer a few messages. She was surprised by how much time has passed. It was already 12:45. ‘We’ve really just spent the last hour and a half just talking. Wow’ 

She could hear Shawn wrapping up his conversation. Telling the other person that he would call as soon as he could. 

He ended the call and turned to her. “I’m really sorry but I have to go. I have a very minor crisis I have to deal with.”

“It’s fine don’t worry about it. I’ve got to head back soon anyway.” She gave him a small smile and reached for her bag. 

“Do you want me to give you a lift? My car is not far from here.” 

“It’s okay. Gotta get used to public transport remember?” 

“Before you go, can I have your phone number? I didn’t get it the other night.”

“I clearly remember you asking for my Instagram, but seeing as you’re being extra specific this time. You can.” 

The two exchanged numbers and only then did it dawn on her that she had just given her phone number to one of the most recognisable people in pop music right now.

“I guess this is goodbye.” Tolnai said as the two stood outside the coffee shop.

“For now. I’ll definitely ask you out again.” 

“How do you know I’ll say yes?” 

“I don’t, but it’ll be interesting to see.” 

“Bye Shawn!” she rolled her eyes playfully and started walking away. 

“Bye T!” 

She was glad she was walking in the opposite direction so he couldn't see her smile.

SHAWN’S POV

As he got into his car, Shawn couldn’t stop thinking about his date. He mentally cursed Andrew for interrupting but the potential scheduling conflict was something that needed to be dealt with before it caused a bigger problem. 

Seeing her today made her even more endearing, but he knew he had a long way to go before he could say that he knew her. ‘There’s definitely more to her than meets the eye.’ She was introspective but had an incredible sense of humour, something he was sure a lot of people didn’t get to see. 

He could tell from the way her eyes glazed over when she talked about her hometown and her love of afrobeat, that both were incredibly important to her and he hoped she’d open up to him about it one day. 

His phone rang, the sound echoing in the car. He pressed the call button on his steering wheel and the sound of his manager’s voice filled the car.

“Hey Andrew.” 

“Hey Shawn, again sorry about the interruption.” 

“It’s alright.” He sighed. “This has to be sorted out.” 

“You sound frustrated. You okay?” He heard the concern in the older man’s voice. 

“Let’s just say the phone call came at a bad time.” He let out a humourless laugh.

“Something I should know about?” 

“Not right now.” 

“Okay back to the matter at hand. You’re in LA for 4 days and GQ is requesting an interview for the new single, but it’s on your day off. Are you good to do it in the morning or would you prefer over the phone?” 

Shawn drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Morning sounds better. That way it’s done and dusted.” 

“Sounds good. I’ll keep you posted if anything changes.” 

“Thanks Andrew.” Shawn ended the call and his mind immediately went back to Tolani. There was something about her but he couldn’t figure it out. ‘I guess we’ll see where it goes.’ he thought as he drove home back to his apartment. 

Taglist

@bugheadfanatic @eve134340 @sean-mendezzzzz @rulerofnocountry @thotmendes @shawnssnack @shawnase @momenraul @justbeingoceana @tisvanessa @petit-funsize @shawnsvalentine @song-bird-shawn

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes x poc #My writing #shawn mendes x woc

[ivalice-tifalucis]

Found a forum about Take That, also found some interesting discussion

Now it’s 4AM in the morning, I slept too much for past couple of days because of some flu and the medicine makes me drowzy and moody all the time and sleeping was very tempting. I should’ve finished my essay so I can get this one subject to more than a ‘B’ so I can still retain my dream of going to Netherlands this year. But here I am searching non-important things (or at least maybe it’s important for my curiosity), and tried to google if there’s any existing Take That forum. My standard is high with mygnrforum which is a super active and long term versatile fan forum of Guns N’ Roses, I even manage to find myself some friends there. The whole website is even made and funded by fans, active discussions from all age, nationalities, and genders, and even there was a time when Axl Rose decided to showed up to everyone’s surprise. But hey, obviously GN’R is bazillion times bigger than TT. I just saw their concert of same shit they’ve been singing for 35 years with terrible mickey mouse voice of Axl’s and people still went lit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that I finally see my favorite rock band. It just hanging around with old fans give me sense of cynical for the band.

Anyway...

I went to thread that is talking about Odyssey. You may check it here: http://www.buzzjack.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=209704&st=440

The thread is actually meant for both Robbie and Take That fans. I found nice thread that talked about Reveal and even gave me snippets that I haven’t even seen before since I was too poor to buy Reveal. But what I want to talk about in Odyssey thread is the view of this person who definitely this kind of annoying GB Army you will find a lot around Thatters group or social medias comments sections. Try to start from the link I gave you. Here this person talks about the BBC Documentary.

Tl;dr the cynical side of Thatters and that for this lovey-dovey band, in the eyes of some of their fans they still are one of the most controversial band.

“Saw it  There were some tears involved here as well, but of boredom, unfortunately. Absolutely NOTHING new whatsoever and nothing of substance and, on many occasions, it felt like the Robbie and his backing singers documentary. The era starting with 2006 was almost brushed off, because, of course, Robbie wasn't there - most of the moments from this era were the ones with Robbie in it-, we had the neverending Jason eulogy, but nothing to actually celebrate the members that really carry Take That. And I realized another thing that pissed me off - in almost all the recent performances, Robbie had the silver jacket, to make sure he distinguished himself from the others - God forbid someone mistook him for just a member and he didn't take the center of the stage. I guess that, on a very superficial level, the documentary will do its job, it will sell the album, but I see it as nothing more than that - just a promo trick, without real substance. I hope one day we get a documentary that brushes off Robbie's coming and going and the boys' constant "guilt" over it and the Jason "I'm happy to enjoy the money I've made off the back of TT, but without TT" and actually concentrates on what Mark, Gary and Howard have been doing. I know I sound bitter and I'm probably blowing things out of proportion a bit, but, seriously, is it too much to ask, as a fan, to have one episode that doesn't involve Robbie? Gary's documentary with James was so much more fun and deep, at the same time. This looked just like a label-ordered film, with no other purpose than filling some pockets. I was really disappointed. And I didn't understand what was the whole thing of including their mums in this documentary if they gave them 2 minutes and didn't get anything of substance out of them? We got more time with the same old fans that appear everywhere and say nothing interesting. It would have been more interesting to just have 2 fans that actually had some stories to tell; the same for the mums - considering how crazy it got in the 90s, they'd have had a ton of stories to tell - they probably talked amongst themselves, but nobody was smart enough to include the stuff of interest in the documentary. Sorry, just because I'm a fan, I'm not gonna praise everything they do, especially when it's so shallow. Rant over “

I mean a documentary released close with release date of their Greatest Hits album obviously not for commercial purpose related, right? People already complain that it’s going to be only TT3 doing Greatest Hits tour and she wants this documentary only about TT3. I agree though that maybe there should be more Take That mums and less fan stories maybe. But I think she doesn’t understand that ‘We’ve Come a Long Way’ is not like ‘For the Record’ or ‘Look Back Don’t Stare’. The purpose of this documentary is celebrating and look back but with brighter light on their career in the past 30 years. Don’t expect bunch of guys look pissed and depressed in this one.

And when I say she’s definitely GB Army, just read it how she reacts around the other person who is more leaning to Robbie. 

“Take That have been a UK (almost) only act since especially after Progress. Boy or Manbands do not sell well in the rest of Europe. It is not down to them only. The music taste is different. Robbie maintained his solo fanbase in Europe different to the UK more than TT. He sells out stadiums still. Progress was the unification all time height. Gary never sold well in Europe. And in the UK in the comments on FB, Newspapers etc (aside of the usual hate comments every public figure gets) you see that his political direction and the tax issue hurt his image. Robbie coming and going makes some people happy, some unhappy as you also realize in the comments even in this thread. But what really took mojo away is Jason leaving. And the miss of huge ballads. However, as long as they sell tours, even if it is for the live moment rather than TT - it is good for them as it pays millions in their wallets. In 10 years there might be a full reunion and then the Progress effect will set in again”

And this GB Army lady thinks Gary has no political direction. Then do tell me why people mocking him as Tory. I don’t understand UK politics. I always roll my eyes when I found random comments like for example at Kit Harington, sometimes he got called Tory too and ffs the dude never say anything about his political views, the reason he got called Tory is probably people mistaken him for being blue blood because he is the nth descendant of an Earl and married to Rose Leslie, whom her uncle is an Earl. But then again, it’s even written on his wikipedia page with article related, Gary did stated he supported David Cameron.

Oh this GB Army lady again...

“To be frank, I understand certain fans liked Jason and miss him, I personally don't. I'm probably one of the few people who don't acknowledge that "intelligence" and "wisdom" the others are talking about - that's probably because I saw really intelligent, academic people in the person of my professors and I know how that truly looks. I guess Jason strived to be intelligent and he probably read a lot, but, imo, he had no real in depth view of anything. I'm not saying, by any means, he was a stupid person, just that he wasn't any more intelligent than the others. I agree with you, though, about his contribution to the band - even if it was only for the moral of the group, he was good for them. But he chose to leave, he wasn't kicked out, so I don't see why the boys have to always go out of their way to acknowledge him - if "fans" attack them for this, then they're idiots. The interviews the boys did in November clearly showed they are annoyed of always being asked about Jason and Robbie - that's why I find this documentary to be more of a "guided" one - they said exactly what people expected them to say, regardless of how they actually feel.“

“As I've said, I agree that both Jason and Robbie's contributions had to be acknowledged, that's indisputable. What I'm saying is that Robbie's presence in the documentary wasn't necessary, given all he's done to the boys. He could have left them have their moment. I truly, truly despised him when he referred to them as "my business brothers". He's clever when it comes to distorting reality without many people noticing it. Maybe the III and Wonderland eras weren't as successful as the previous ones, but, given the context, it's no wonder. They were still successful and it was all down to Gary, Mark and Howard. 30 years of work and did anyone actually acknowledge these eras? Even Odyssey was brushed off. So, I have a problem with the program being called "We've come a long way" while we're only presented the beginning and some of the middle. Oh, and funny how Robbie uploads his new single on yt precisely the day the documentary airs! How convenient! “

There’s also some talking about TT downfall, how they can’t sell as much as they used to. Personally, I wanna know too from this side of the story, long term fan all the way to the 90s. And tbh their problem is also every musicians for all time and all place problem. Even Gary acknowledge this. They’re an old act. And that’s ok. Kinda agree that they made some bad decisions on songs and singles, but to me it’s related to the first problem. I stand with all the 5 lads so I don’t think Robbie came and left and changing the dynamic has something major to do. I agree that they’re lacking huge ballads now, but I still enjoy their newer songs tbh, The Jason one is quite intriguing though.

“I agree about the impact of Jason leaving. He may have been quiet on records but from what I could see he was --Robbie and Gary aside-- the next most popular member since they reformed. (**) I think Jason represented 'the good guy' and humble aspects more naturally than the others and this gained him droves of fans. He is very intelligent, including emotionally intelligent which made him relatable with everyday members of the public. The other four are nice though in my opinion you could tell Jason was truly sincere. Of course he is also the only member not involved in any tax issue and possibly took moral issue on this. I once read he still banks with his local co-op.”

IMO, this part is even interesting

A (dylandog): “I actually feel for Howard. A few months ago he bumped into the 'elusive Jay' on Kensington High Street and they had a brief chat. Apparently that was the first time Jay had see Howard's two children. Howard has also posted some lovely heart felt posts about Jay - who has completely cut the boys out of his life. I genuinely think that Howard is upset by Jay's decision to not only walk away from the band, but also their friendship.”

B (GBA lady): “That's exactly what I'm thinking, dylandog. Howard and Jason seemed to be very good friends during the TT years and Mark, well, he seems to be friends with everyone. I'm not including Gary on this one, although, back in the 90s, they said themselves, it was Gary-Howard-Jay, on one side, and Mark-Robbie, on the other side. I can understand - to a certain extent - Jason's decision to quit the music industry, but I don't get why he had to also quit his friendships. Howard was the one who said, during an interview, that Jason doesn't even reply to their emails anymore.”

A: “Jay was always the one that struggled with the limelight so to some extent it wasn't a surprise that he was the one to jump ship. I also felt that he was, to put it bluntly, rather work shy.  I think they probably understand/accept his decision to leave the music industry, but I agree with you, they must be hurt and confused by his actions to cut them out of his life. I know if a friend I'd spent many years with did that to me I'd feel very hurt. It does make me wonder what an earth went on? Was Jay appalled by their involvement in the tax scheme or was it something else? Whilst I understand Jay has his own life and friendship groups to completely erase them from his life is drastic to say the least. “

B: “I don't think it has anything to do with the their tax scheme. I doubt he even knew what the boys did with their share. Jason's finances are managed by his brother, the boys' by someone else. I don't see them sit down and talk: "oh, did your lawyer/accountant make you sign that paper regarding that investment?". I really trust Gary when he says he had no idea what he was signing - if he had any suspicion back then that it would be something that would backfire, he'd have pulled the money out immediately and payed the tax to the State, just like he did when he found out what it was all about. BUT, in the eventuality that Gary and the others lie and they knew they were doing something morally questionable and Jason was aware of this and this is the reason he left the band, then shame on him! He isn't a saint, he's done his fair share of morally questionable things in life - at the end of the day, using fans for sex is way more wrong than making an investment that doesn't break any laws -, so he wasn't in any position to judge. Just like all the others, he did alcohol, he did drugs, he used people for his own pleasure.....he really had no foot to stand on when it came to this. He is enjoying, after all, a life of doing nothing off the back of others, limelight shy or not. I sincerely hope that is not the reason he quit the band. If it were, his mum being in the documentary would look very weird.“

Then another guy came...

C: “I don't understand the talk about Jay like he is a bad guy here when this is probably the main reason why he quit the band, to stop stangers being judgmental on him. What's wrong with him dating young girls or older girls (Catherine Tate wasn't exactly young when they were dating)? He is single and should be allowed to date whoever he wants. And if he decided to quit because of the tax thing then I don't see any problem. People has different values in life that hold dear to their heart. Anyway, all this was just you guys' speculations (not even truth) and you still manage to use it to talk down on him just because he is not your favorite. Jason has never been a fan of technology since when he was in the band so I see no reasons for him to change after he left the band. Being of grid is so Jason that I don't know why everyone would be surprised. I have a lot of old colleagues that I was close to when I was working with them but never bother to keep in touch. I still like them but they are not my priority at the moment. There are so many levels of friendship and Take That is definitely a unique one.”

A: “I'm sorry you see it that way BadHabit. I in no way meant to be dismissive of Jay or suggest that he is a 'bad guy.' If you read my post I do say I miss Jay and for me they were at their best as a four piece. However, it's not unfair of me to point out that he had few leads, which I think is a shame by the way,because he's my second favourite vocalist in the band, or that he had very little input re song writing. The forum is for comments and opinions and unless we're looking at facts such as sales figures, then of course it's merely conjecture. My point was that I didn't fully understand the intellectual label given to Jason. Of course he can 'date' whom is wishes, regardless of their age, I don't think I suggested otherwise, but simply made an observations that he appears to have been photographed with much younger women on a number of occasions and therefore falls into that stereotype of older man/ younger woman. By the way for balance Howard is married to a much younger woman as well.“

B: “In regards to Jason dating younger women - although I couldn't care less about his private life (as long as his private life doesn't affect TT's image/reputation/connections)-, I do believe it's morally wrong for a 40+ old man to be dating 20 year olds. No, a person doesn't have the right to date whomever they please. In some countries, it's legal for 80+ year olds to marry young girls, some are still kids - based on the mighty principle that "one can do whatever/whomever they please". Just because it's not illegal, it doesn't mean it's not wrong. Plus, it's just disturbing to see an almost 50 year old - or is he 50 already? - jumping from woman to woman - he's either interested in settling down, in which case he should be dating just one person -or he's not interested in a family life, in which case he shouldn't be dating at all. I could understand it to some extent when all the boys were teens or in their early 20s, but now it's just ridiculous. I know you all live in a "liberal" thinking country, but I have the feeling nowadays abnormalities are being perceived as normal, which is soooo wrong. It's not right that any person on this forum be made to "retract" an opinion based on a system of values, just because others' fan bias. Like dylandog said, nobody believes Jason is "a bad guy", but that doesn't mean he's a saint either- he's just showing signs of immature and questionable decisions. Every single member of this band has been criticized for various choices they've made in their lives, why would be Jason exempt from the same treatment? He actually had it pretty easy going while he was in the band. For all his questionable public appearances, he never got the 10th amount of the slagging Gary did for simply existing.“

*sigh* now I’m getting some pattern that the older you are as a fan of an act, the cynical you are.

If anyone manage to read this until this part, please let me know your thoughts. Especially about Jason because tbh even I still confuse about his mindset.

#take that #tt5 #tt digging

[bambyeol]

Radio FM (For me.) (final)

disclaimer : i can’t link the first part because Tumblr removes my fic from the searches if I link the first part ughsduashdihidas 

pairing/s: DJ Jaehwan ! x OC  

genre: angst, fluff , song-fic 

summary: DJ Jaehwan composes a song for a heartbroken listener not knowing he was the one who broke her heart.

“That was the greatest show yet. People never run out of heart-fluttering stories to tell, don’t they?” Jaehwan raved, still basking in the energy he said the show gave him. Agreeing with his previous statement and acknowledging his efforts, you nod.

“Thank you, Yeonrin.” he said in such an endearing tone as you two waited for the elevator to bring you down to the ground floor.

“You can stop thanking me, Jaehwan. You know I needed you too.”

Jaehwan gave you an exaggerated look as though he was unspeakably flattered. You wanted to hit him in the head playfully but decided against it, knowing that the simple gesture will open up gates and bring back feelings which were otherwise already thrown away. But were they really? Why does your heart keep beating this fast, then?

At a nearby convenience store, you both decided to stop for a drink before walking to the subway station on the way home, a routine that the two of you naturally got into.

“So..Jaehwan. You and Gayoung.” Trying to sound as casual as you can, as though this was simply a talk over a drink with a friend, you asked him.  “How did things go?”

“Still going. Can you believe it?” Jaehwan took a sip from his drink and giggled. “It’s been a full decade.”

You just smiled and listened to the rest of his stories with staged interest. Them going to the same university. Graduating together. Finding jobs as close as possible to one another and finally, what hit you the hardest, them finally moving into their own quaint apartment. “It’s small,” he says. “But it’s our own and it’s perfect.”

A perfect home for their perfect love story.

And here you were -  the shattered bystander.

The past week’s episodes were filled with first love stories, fluttering proposals, touching reunions. Not a single heartbreak story ever since he started the show. You thought this was quite odd. Where in the world were the other people who had their hearts broken like you did?

And then an idea crossed your mind. One that had more of a personal motive. Your mind has been tugging at you ever since you met Jaehwan again. Was it that you wanted him to know your side of a decade-old tale? However futile the effort may be? Or was it because, seeing him again, you thought it was the sign of another chance?

None of this matters.

At least, you’ll finally have a song especially written for you. At least, it was by him.

---

“He was a high school acquaintance who had a passion for music like no other person I knew at the time. We did not know each other until senior year came along and even then, we didn’t have the most pleasant of first meetings. But eventually, I found myself admiring his talent and his determination. We talked sporadically throughout the year, bonding over his songs and music in general. Right when I thought he felt the same way about me, he confessed to a girl. With my favorite song of his.”

The office floor was dark and silent except for a desk lamp shedding its yellowish glow on the far corner of the room and the sound of you typing away inside your cubicle. As is common when you had some extra work to accomplish, you stayed back, asking Jaehwan not to wait up for you as he had to do his own preparations for the next day’s show.

You read your entry again and again, making sure it was exactly at the line between vague and excessively specific. Despite wanting to get your message to him, you weren’t exactly sure if it would be to your convenience that he knew it was from you. You simply wanted to hear from him since your connection, if it could even be called a connection, was so abruptly interrupted.

The block of text stayed in your screen for what seemed like ages as you swiveled in your office chair again and again, as if the continuous turning would help you muster the courage to click the button.

And though it felt ridiculous, feeding audience content to your own show, you clicked send and shut your laptop without second thoughts.

----

Jaehwan entered the broadcast room the following evening with his forehead creased in deep thought. Right then and there, you thought he figured you out. But when you asked him why he came in looking like he had the world on his shoulders….

“I’m just internalizing. The story today is quite...heartbreaking, for once.” So he did read it, and he actually chose it. Although, there were no signs of suspicion in his features.

Quite heartbreaking. An understatement. In your case, anyways.

You heaved a sigh, but whether it was a sigh of relief or a sigh to brace yourself for what was to come, you had no clue.

“Yeonrin, 2 minutes.” a colleague got your attention and you sat down in your chair, trying to pull your mind back to work.

“Jaehwan-ah, all set?”

“Yep.” he pulled in his chair, positioning his face directly in front of the mic.

Within the two minutes before the start of the show, he went through the mental list he had: the lyrics he wrote, the chords of the song, and the advice he wanted to give. Contrary to what you thought, that moment ten years ago did cross his mind by the time he finished reading the entry. However, he simply acknowledged the similarities between the confession and nothing else. He never considered that his own confession resulted in the heartbreak of another.

“Our story today is a bit different from the content of the past week. A love that was stopped by a sudden confession. You listeners may be wondering ‘Huh? But confessions usually start up a relationship, don’t they?’” He started, putting on a silly voice which was supposed to mimic the audience.

You almost laugh as he struggled to keep the atmosphere appropriate to today’s story. Kim Jaehwan’s antics can be really out of place.

“That’s not wrong, dear listeners. But the said confession, sadly, was not directed to our letter sender. Yes, the hidden love that blossomed in her heart was not returned. And she witnessed someone she loved confess to someone else.”

He proceeded by reading the very words you wrote the night before, and it seemed like you were back in that cramped and humid broadcasting room on that last day as he uttered your story from his own mouth.

“Before I sing for this sender tonight, let me give my two cents. It is possible that you invalidated your feelings after such confession happened. But you had every right to those feelings, being human. Do not despise yourself for hanging onto them. But now, time has passed and both of you have your own stories to write. Acceptance will come with time and distance.”

And with that, he introduced his song, started strumming his guitar, inducing a melancholic tune.

Park Ji Min - Hopeless Love

I know there’s no hope, so every time I look at you It’s so hard, because I love you so much It hurts so much when you say I’m just a friend I’m standing outside the line that I can’t ever cross

It hurts but why can’t I turn away? This hopeless love In your eyes that look at me, there aren’t any feelings that are like mine It’s such a sad thing to know your heart

He finished the song and for a few seconds there was a resounding silence inside the broadcast room, all of the employees, bosses and assistants alike, had expressions as if their own hearts were touched by the music they just heard.

Jaehwan looked up from inside the booth and you stood up and moved your chair so that your back was to him. You had no assurance that your face did not completely mirror your heart.

Soft applause finally filled the room and Jaehwan wrapped up the show with his signature closing credits as you were left to organize the thoughts running through your head while pretending to be occupied by the control buttons.

Acceptance, time, distance. You’ve got the latter two taken care of, what with you having been away from him for a decade. But acceptance.

It felt hopeless.

---

It felt like the world was mocking your plea for closure, a stab to your desperation when Jaehwan’s song for you, “the anonymous sender”, became a big hit, ranking number 1 in the most-searched on Naver and opening up petitions for a complete song.

Several agencies winded up getting interested, sending their offers to Jaehwan to be under their label to which he dutifully declined, opting to use the radio station instead as means of publishing the full version.

“Why’d you reject the offers?”

“Oh. It would be better if it would be under the radio station still. Besides, I don’t want to make money out of someone’s heartache. That song was for her alone.”

“Oh.” you remain silent, pondering on his words, heart beating rapidly uncontrollably. You tuck stray hair behind your ear, “I’m sure she agrees.”

You look up. For sure, if Jaehwan just met your eyes then, he’d know. You were willing to let it slip, to finally come undone, to lay down the secrets you kept for 10 years.

Even if it meant a rejection was on-hand.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he busily rummages in his bag until he grabs a hold of a thin white envelope. A little too fancy, with the embossed gold patterns, and the emboldened letters.

You are invited to…

“Right. I’m sorry what were you saying again?” Jaehwan faces you, the white envelope bound to be passed to your now opened palms.

You didn’t know when you unfurled your palms as if you were expecting it.  You shake your head before staring at the envelope.

“No. It’s nothing…”

“I wanted to invite you,” he starts. Every word after that became heavier. It was like quicksand - the more you tried to move, the more you sunk into that feeling of helplessness.

“We’re going to get married. I mean.. I wanted us to get married first before we moved together, but being a musician was tough. But now, with my job and how the show’s a success, there’s nothing hindering us anymore.” he swung his arms animatedly, a mixture of embarrassment, joy and most of all endearment.

“Really. You always save me, Yeonrin. More than being my guardian angel. The more I think about it, you’re our guardian angel.” That was the finishing blow. Your heart was crushed completely, tears just a word away from spilling.You look down, regretting sending your story for the first time.

“That’s why, I’ll really appreciate it if you will come. You’re someone special to us. “

But I wanted to be the one special for you. You thought grimly.

“I can’t.” you reply immediately even before you could form a tactful rejection to the invitation. “Ah. I mean…”  you scramble for a reply, and a stray tear falls across your cheek.  You wipe it off immediately hoping Jaehwan wouldn’t have caught it, but he did and he reached for your wrist in concern.

“Yeonrin?” he asks softly. You swat  him away, retreating into a fetal position and the tears didn’t stop. He bends down, rubbing your back though unsure why you suddenly bursted.

Kim Jaehwan always can’t read the atmosphere for the love of God.

“I’m sorry,” you croak.  “I can’t.”

“No. No. It’s totally okay. I mean, you don’t need to come if you can’t,” a flustered Jaehwan replies still missing the mark.

With one deep breath, you momentarily pause the tears on your eyes.  “I can’t wish you happiness, Jaehwan.” You half-smile.

“Not back then, and definitely not now. I’ve always.” your arms folded atop her knees. “I’ve always, really, loved you.” you confess.

He freezes, “How long?” It was the only thing he could form despite the multiple questions rounding up his mind.

“Senior year.” you reply curtly, sniffling.

“Why didn’t you..” his question was left hanging, but you understood

You laugh mirthlessly, “How could I? When you beat me to it and confessed to Gayoung. I really thought that you liked me too. I guess that what we were was just confined in that broadcasting room. Similar to what we are now.”

“I sent that story.” you open up. “The one whose song became a hit, but even until now, all that I am is just a guardian angel. A person who leads you to where you wanted to be. “

His lips were pressed into a thin line. It hurt him that you endured everything, but he knew where his heart laid.

It will never be with you.

“I’m sorry.” he concludes

You nod understandingly.

“Thank you.” you bite your lips and muster up a smile. “It may have taken 10 years, but you finally sang for me.”

He nods, hands delicately removing his touch from your back until it’s beside him again.

--

Although many have requested for a full version of the song, Jaehwan did not sing it anymore and it was soon forgotten.

On the night of his wedding, you received an anonymous email with an mp3 file attached.

To my guardian angel...

-fin-

a/n : i will never be not sad over this fic :< my friend and I long completed this fic and I just really forgot to update it. I”M SO SORRY BUT THIS IS ALSO HARD TO READ FOR ME WITH THE HEARTBREAK. wanna one is disbanding soon also :< i’ll miss them dearly but writing for them has been such a gift. I remember typing in the middle of the night, fueled by their songs (and Day6 of course) . I wish to continue writing for them before they disband, but in the case that I won’t be able too, this mini author’s note will serve as a thank you for all the readers who read my fics. For all your support, and for all your patience as I continually break my promise of “i’ll post it soon” . Thank you for staying ;-; . Thank you for all your kind words. It’s been a great pleasure to write for you all.

#wanna one #wanna one scenarios #wanna one imagines #kim jaehwan scenarios #kim jaehwan imagines #kim jaehwan

[irwnsrcses]

ghosting out || luke hemmings

requested: no

word count: 3.4k+

synopsis: too young & too dumb to know things like love, but when you get into an ‘we almost dated’ relationship, you can’t help but learn a few things about the other person. all of the little things that luke just hopes the next guy will love and cherish like how he should’ve.

a/n: this is my first piece of writing after not being active for like over a year! so i am so sorry if things are a little bit rusty and i am so sorry if i took way too long to get into the angsty bit. this was inspired by ‘ghost of you’, this poem? text post? and this movie scene.

credits to the photo owner. i just cropped it down.

masterlist // writing prompt list

Music was playing to fill in all of the little empty gaps of silence in between all of the chatter that was happening around the room. People crowded almost every single inch of space yet there was still enough room to move about freely. Laughter and smiles were on majority of people’s faces whilst drinks ranging from a champagne flute to a light cocktail in their hands. It was a weird ‘listening’/album release party for the new 5 Seconds of Summer album considering no one was listening to the album itself, more like mingling, though that didn’t mean no one was paying attention. 

As the boys were walking around, saying hi to potential business partners and future songwriters for even the next album, it couldn’t help but be weirdly overwhelming for one of the boys. Luke finished off one of his drinks that was designed and inspired specifically by the album; the Valentine cocktail. He respectfully nodded his head as he finished off one conversation with a stranger that he feels like he should remember their name, but by the end of the night, he wasn’t even going to bother. 

 The blonde man walked over to one of the couches provided by the venue, running his fingers through his hair and rubbing his face to try and keep himself awake. He groaned softly, wanting nothing more than to just go home and sleep as evident from his tired eyes. 

 “You alright?” 

 Luke turned his head and found Ashton sitting on the arm of the couch, patting his shoulder as a sign of comfort but also slight worry. Luke gave the drummer a small smile, nodding his head and waving him off. “Yeah yeah, don’t worry. I’m fine. I’m just a little tired that’s all.” 

Ashton nodded his head as well before gently squeezing the guitarist’s shoulder. “Well don’t worry, the party is going to end soon. Let me know if you need anything okay?” The younger one smiled once more as he nodded his head again. “Yeah don’t worry, Ash. I will.” 

With the drummer walking off, Luke let out another sigh and just decided to lean back in his spot and scroll through his phone to pass the time. As he quickly liked random photos that were appearing on his instagram feed, he hears his name being called. He looked up and his eyes widen at the sight of her standing just a few feet away from him. 

She somehow managed to look the same and yet even more amazing from when they last saw each other. A wide smile appeared on his face as he quickly got up and walked over to her, embracing her in his arms. “Holy shit, hey.” He greeted, chuckling softly. 

The girl wrapped her arms back around him and giggled softly, happy to see the man after a period of not seeing his face. She pulled away from their embrace, smiling up at him. “It’s so good seeing you again! Congrats on the album, I listened to it earlier and it sounded absolutely amazing.” 

Luke couldn’t help but blush at her compliments. He could never really take compliments well, especially when they came from her. It might just be his own humble nature or just him not always 100% believing in his own creative abilities, but it was nice to hear his work being appreciated and actually valued.

“Thanks (Y/N). I honestly didn’t even know that you were coming.” 

“Oh, Michael invited me.” 

“… Did he now?” 

Luke looked up from her and conveniently saw Michael not to far away from him, but too far to actually have a conversation with him. Michael looked up and saw Luke and (Y/N) standing together to which he proceeded to give the taller blonde a sympathetic smile. Luke pulled a face of annoyance and mouthed ‘why?!’ towards the other, only to be replied with Michael shrugging his shoulders and signalling that Luke shouldn’t be focusing on (Y/N) and not on him. 

Luke clenching his fists before quickly looking back down at the woman in front of him and gave her an awkward laugh, before she noticed anything. “It’s great to see you again. It’s been a while.” He said with a small genuine smile. ‘I am going to kill, Michael after this.’ He thought to himself.

“Yeah, it has been a while. Like a year or two?” 

“Wow, how time flies.” 

“It sure does.”

It was weird having small talk with her when before, they would use to have conversations that would span over countless hours and covering almost countless topics that either held meaning or were just pure conversation fillers that lead to funny moments and sayings. To be standing in front of her and having a normal conversation with her was incredibly cathartic; emotional, overwhelming and yet so comforting at the same time. In a strange way, Luke missed that about her, or at least just even being around her. 

“You still writing?” he asked with curiosity. “Actually, I am. Kind of interning for a music label and like working out my own song writing style.” Luke’s smile grew bigger, feeling somewhat proud of her for taking the chance to further pursue her dream. “Hey that’s amazing, congratulations.” 

Just before (Y/N) could say anything, Luke’s smile flatten as a random guy appeared by (Y/N)’s side and kissed the temple of her head, just how he use to back in the days. She turned her head and smiled at the guy, giving him a quick peck ‘hello’. 

“Oh, Luke. This is Jason, a guy that I am seeing. Jase, this is Luke.” 

“Oh... Hey man.” He leaned over and respectfully shook the other male’s hand, though he couldn’t help but feel a little bit upset at the fact that she moved on. 

“Oh, Luke! Hey! I heard so much about you! (Y/N) is so lucky to have such a good friend like you in her life.” Luke bit his lower lip, hearing that term ‘friend’ as a term to describe (Y/N) and Luke’s relationship. Though Jason wasn’t completely wrong, he wasn’t completely right too. They were friends… are friends, but they did have a moment where they weren’t completely just friends.

He remembered almost every second of their time together as they both danced around the line that spilt between friendship and relationship and to say that they were together would be false, though saying that there was nothing there at all would also be false. That weird position of ‘we almost dated’ was complicated and left both of them, or at least Luke, so many questions that were left unanswered and so many ‘what if’ scenarios that will forever torment him till the day he dies. 

“Yeah well, I am the lucky one to even have her in my life.” Now it was (Y/N)’s time to blush, especially with Luke’s eyes looking at her with such intensity that only she knew the underlying meaning to his words. Clearing her throat awkwardly, she turned her head and looked at the man that was standing by his side.

“Hey I’m gonna go to the bathroom for a little bit, you two boys chat.” 

Both of the men watched her make her way to the ladies bathroom until they were both left alone. Both letting out an awkward laugh, Luke showed Jason to the couches where both of them could sit and ‘chat’, as she had previously put it. 

“So… how did you meet (Y/N)?” Luke asked, slightly dreading the details of their new blossoming relationship. 

After a while, (Y/N) appeared out of the loo and started to look for both Luke and Jason, hoping that she could continue catching up with the blonde rockstar. Returning to the spot that she left them both at, she was disappointed to only find Jason sitting down at the couches. Furrowing her eyebrows, she sat down next to Jason. 

“Hey where did Luke go?” 

“Oh, he decided to go home. Said something about being really tired and all. But we did talk about you though.” 

A look of confusion fell upon her face, hearing about their boy’s topic of conversation. 

“Me? What did you guys say? Good things I hope?” 

“Of course, love. Only ever good things about you.” Jason chuckled, placing his hand on her thigh as a sign of endearment. “Though I can tell that Luke really does care about you. Weirdly enough, I guess he is a little bit protective of you, cause he kinda gave me a list of rules to follow if I were to stay with you and wanted to get serious with you.” 

(Y/N) jerked her head back in surprise as her confusion continued to grow. “Rules? What rules? I’m a person not a toy.” She said, getting defensive over why Luke would say such a thing, especially to a guy that she was currently seeing and interested in. To a certain degree, she was offended. Was Luke holding a grudge against her? Was he trying to ruin her future happiness?

“Babe, I know you’re not. I don’t know why he told me. I guess, maybe to help me not screw up as much?” She let out a sigh, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “Okay fine, what did he say about me?” 

“Well, Rule 1) Don’t ask her to be feminine. She will defy almost every single stereotype that you grew up with and learnt about women and if you try and get to fulfil it, it’s not going to be pretty. …” 

Luke’s POV 

“Rule 2) Don’t let her drink over three glasses of anything. (Y/N) is honestly the biggest lightweight I have ever met, and as small as she is, she will get aggressive and possibly beat someone when drunk.” Luke advised, chuckling softly at the memories back when Luke and her would go out partying and the amount of times Luke had to carry an intoxicated (Y/N) over his shoulder or give her a piggyback ride back to his apartment. 

“Rule 3) When you go to any café, don’t order a coke or any juices. Drink coffee instead. She has this weird thing where the only thing you should drink at a café is coffee, and if you wanted to drink a coke, you should’ve gone to McDonalds.” Luke remembered one of the first few times that Luke and her had gone out together and even though Luke wasn’t much of a coffee drinker, (Y/N) forced him to be a coffee drinker. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why he has gotten to dependant on the caffeine, because of her influence. 

“Rule 4) If she hits you, act like it hurts and when it does actually hurt, act like it doesn’t.” The amount of times (Y/N) has hit Luke’s chest or pushed him away in any sort of fight whether it was playful, sober or intoxicated, she always managed to find a way to hit him. At first, he found it incredibly annoying that she always had to hit him, especially since in his eyes, it made her seem like a child throwing a tantrum, but he just learnt that (Y/N) wasn’t that vocal about her feelings. “She’s weird in the sense that, she doesn’t know how to voice her emotions, that’s why she will hit you. But don’t be offended by it. It’s just her.” Luke added, giving Jason a weak smile. 

“Yeah, I kinda noticed that. (Y/N) doesn’t really like to talk, does she?” “No, trust me, she does. She will talk your ear off; you just have to be patient with her. “ Luke sighed, looking down at his hands as he continued. 

“Rule 5) Her favourite song is Robot by The Sam Willows, which by the way, listen to The Sam Willows. They are her favourite band and even if you don’t like them, if you don’t try, you’re done for. When she is having a break down, hold her in your arms, kiss her forehead and tell her to breathe whilst you hum Robot under your breath. Show her that you are there, no matter what.” 

“Rule 6) Make sure you learn fencing and squash, especially squash. I have no idea who plays that game other than middle aged men, but don’t be fooled. (Y/N) will seriously kick your ass at it and it won’t be fun.” Luke said, letting out an airy laugh as he shook his head. “My god, dude, the amount of times I got my ass handed to me by her whenever we played.” He chuckled, looking at Jason. 

“Okay this might be weird but don’t be alarmed but, Rule 7) be prepared to go to jail sometimes. She will put you through so many journeys and adventures that somehow; you will be the one who ends up in a holding cell and not her.” Luke saw the horrified look on Jason’s face, making Luke chuckle again. 

“Hey, man, don’t worry. She will bail you out, no matter what. I think she gets a weird kick out of. Letting you out, though that does come with a warning that she is not afraid to let you sleep in a holding cell for a night or two.” Instantly, Luke remembered when somehow on a night out when he was trying to look after (Y/N) at a nearby motel, Luke got arrested because other visitors grew suspicious of a ‘too sober’ man making a sudden booking with a passed out girl on his shoulder. After spending a night in a jail cell, Luke remembered from that moment on to book a hotel room before hand, just in case. 

“Rule 8) If she says she’ll kill you, don’t take it lightly. (Y/N) is the strongest and most stubborn person I have ever met. She is definitely a character who can certainly hold her own. Don’t try and assert your dominance over her because trust me, it will be the worst decision of your life. And besides, it will make you feel better.” 

“Rule 9) If her feet hurt, exchange shoes with her. It does not matter if she is wearing heels or flats, change shoes with her, even if that means you will have to go bare foot.” Luke remembered the countless nights out where if (Y/N) wasn’t drunk and passed out that she would complain so much about how her feet would hurt in her heels but she would refuse to walk barefoot around town as she didn’t want to see tragic, so the next best thing would be for Luke to go barefoot whilst she wore his shoes. The first few times, Luke felt completely embarrassed, but as time went on, he grew to learn that he would do anything for her, even walk in heels for her. 

“And finally, you should already know this but she is a writer. Not because she is good at it, but I mean, she is, but she doesn’t think she is. (Y/N) only really writes cause she thinks it’s just a time filling hobby. Encourage her to write, whether it will be a random song, a random story paragraph or a poem. No matter what, always encourage her to write. Even though she doesn’t know how to vocalise her feelings, she definitely knows how to put her feelings from pen to paper. She will draw you into her world or art and poetry and immortalise you among the stars that she creates in her own mind. You will never die, which also means that if you can’t ever figure her out, read her writing. She’s good. Really fucken good.” 

Luke gulped, swallowing down the lump that suddenly appeared in his throat after talking and mentally reminiscing so much about (Y/N) in his brain. He looked at Jason who seemed to be taking Luke’s advice genuinely all in. “You seem like a really nice guy, Jason. Treat (Y/N) well because she deserves the universe.” 

Feeling himself get emotionally drained, Luke cleared his throat and gave Jason a small smile. “It’s getting late and I should probably go. Tell (Y/N) that it was nice seeing her again. I’ll see you around.” 

The blonde singer got up from his spot and immediately b-lined it to the exit, avoiding his band members in his path. It’s been a while since Luke has felt this emotional, especially over (Y/N) and it was suddenly overwhelming him. Now he definitely wanted to go home and sleep. 

Quickly calling an Uber back to his place, Luke sighed, sitting in the back seat as he just watched all of the neon lights of Hollywood fly by. Giving his Uber drive a quick smile and a nod thank you, Luke got out of the car and quickly made his way inside his home. The faster he could just get out of his party clothes, have a nice shower, the faster that he could go to bed and sleep the night away and also sleep away even running into (Y/N) and her new boyfriend. Luke made a mental note to kill Michael in the morning. 

The blonde turned on his shower, feeling that he deserved a nice hot shower to wash away the awkwardness and the tension that seemed to grow inside of him after tonight’s events. As the water cascaded over his hair and his body, Luke didn’t realise how much (Y/N) still had effected him even after a year or two of not seeing each other. It was like her ghost was still there following him, but he grew so immune to it that he didn’t realise that she would still be there with him until she actually was standing right there in front of him. 

When they were ‘together’ Luke wasn’t that much younger than her and yet after being with her and going through all of the twist and turns of a ‘maybe’ relationship, it somehow hurt him the most whilst teaching him the most. He somehow managed to know every aspect about her, every little detail and yet he could never crack the one where she would let him actually be with her, or maybe that was Luke’s own fault, believing that being at the height of his career, he shouldn’t be in anything serious. Or maybe they were both just too dumb to realise that letting each other go would be one of the hardest things either one of them would have to go through. 

As Luke relaxed during his hot shower, he could hear someone constantly ringing his doorbell and knocking on his front door. The more the knocks echoed, the more Luke thought that whoever was behind that door was ready to kick it down. Furrowing his eyebrows, he quickly got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, annoyed that someone was acting as if it was an emergency to see him at this hour. 

Luke opened the door, ready to yell at his night visitor before he realised that it was (Y/N) standing on the other side. 

“(Y/N)… ummm… what are you doing here?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. Did you really tell Jason all of that about me?” 

“… yes.” 

“Why?” 

“… because he deserves to know what kind of girl he is up against. A person who is so smart and so wonderful that whoever meets you will never be the same because you’re not like the rest. Because, he is a nice guy who shouldn’t feel the pain of losing you like I did.” 

Tears slowly filled her eyes as she looked at the man standing in front of her. As if it was a natural reflex, she hit his chest, shaking her head. “You’re so annoying when you read me like that.” 

Flinching slightly at the hit, Luke chuckled softly, looking at her, feeling awfully nostalgic at that little hit from her. “It’s cause you let me read you. You let me in.” 

 She let out a shaky breath, shaking her head once more. (Y/N) quickly stepped forward and held Luke’s face in her hands as she brought him down to kiss her in the middle of his doorway. The kiss was short but sweet and everything amazing in between. It was the spark that lit up Luke’s stomach feeling something as soft as her lips against his. 

“My god, you’re annoying.” 

“I know…” 

“Don’t you ghost out on me ever again.” 

“Okay.”

tag list: @lukesuwu @ashtonsunshine @5sos3stan @babylon-cal @thiccassluke @lukes-sunglasses @valentine-luke @dankpunks @tothemoonmikey @ghostoflu @calumincolor @cashtontrash

#5sos #5sos imagine #5sos one shot #5sos angst #luke hemmings #luke 5sos #calum 5sos #ashton 5sos #michael 5sos #ashton irwin #calum hood #michael clifford #5sosfam #luke one shot #luke hemmings imagine #lrh #writing #5sos preference #damn it's been a hot minute #mine

[roseymoseyberry]

The Prime’s Intended (2/?)

What’s up, its your girl Rosey with some more of this hot mess, now with a Friend(tm) and bedtime cuddling!

(also these chapters will generally be a tad shorter than my usual multichapter fics since I kinda want to keep each chapter to one general topic/situation. Also because it gives me more time to write more of it, haha. This one is especially so but it didn’t fit with the first chapter or with the next, so here it is. Just a little calm before the storm.)

Title: The Prime’s Intended

Series: TFP post-war AU where Optimus didn’t die

Ship(s): Optimus/Ratchet

Tags/warnings: Big Awful Public Wedding AU, Established Relationship, outing a relationship without consent, and just a lot of dealing with bullshit from paparazzi/media/etc. Mentions of sticky interfacing, but none on screen

Fic Summary:

“A photographer spotted us leaving your quarters this morning.”

In which paparazzi out Ratchet and Optimus’s relationship, their PR consultant plans them the biggest and most extravagant public wedding they never wanted, and Ratchet has to deal with suddenly becoming the Prime’s conjunx-to-be.

Chapter Summary:

“So, which one actually came first: the photos or the proposal?”

| Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

“So, which one actually came first: the photos or the proposal?”

“How did you get in here?” Ratchet grumbled, ignoring how Arcee was making herself comfortable on the edge of his desk to focus on the datapad in his servo. The two-wheeler shrugged.

“You’d be surprised the perks that come with reminding mecha that we were on Team Prime together,” Arcee replied. She managed to hook a digit over the top of the datapad and push it down so that Ratchet had to look at her, and Arcee’s gaze didn’t hold any humor despite the tone of her voice. “So. Do I owe you my congratulations or my condolences?”

Ratchet ex-vented slowly and finally laid the datapad down.

“Well, I’m hiding in my office and haven’t accepted any appointments, so I think you can guess at the kind of day I’m having.”

Arcee considered him for a moment before nodding and saying, “I figured it was the photos. You two never seemed like the ceremony type, and no offence but you’re just not fit to be a celebrity.”

Ratchet blinked slowly.

“You’re not surprised that we’re together though.”

“Are you joking?” Arcee rolled her optics and crossed her leg over her knee. “Ratchet, we all knew about you two. The way you looked at him was about as subtle as a punch in the face.”

Heat bloomed in Ratchet’s face as he scowled and snapped, “That’s not true.”

“Well, also, Bee did walk in on you once and confirmed our theories.”

Ratchet groaned with embarrassment while Arcee snickered, gracefully lifting her legs high enough to not hit anything as she swiveled around so she was sat on the edge of Ratchet’s side of the desk. “Relax, Ratchet. It’s sweet, and frankly you both deserve to have somebody. But all of this…” She trailed off, waving vaguely, and Ratchet nodded his agreement.

“It’s a steaming pile of slag, but it’s what we have to do.”

“My condolences then,” Arcee said, her servo patting Ratchet’s forearm.

“Thanks.” It was only half sarcastic.

Arcee’s servo grasped his arm then and her optics hardened as she added, “Don’t be afraid to call up the old team if somebody needs to be dealt with or something done, alright? You know we’ll take care of you. We’ll even make sure it can’t be traced back to you.”

Ratchet gaped a bit before saying, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Arcee smiled with an almost feral affection.

“Speaking of, you know who took those photos?”

And, for the first time that day, Ratchet felt his lips curl into a smile in return.

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

“Did you receive the schedule that Spinmaster sent?”

“Yes,” Ratchet grumbled as he tugged Optimus towards the berth. The medic had been waiting in the Prime’s quarters for hours, no longer trusting the security of his own. Optimus had finally arrived much, much later than he should have due to all his work being delayed by the announcement. Once all the Public Relations nonsense had been done, Optimus had returned to things that actually mattered since being a Prime didn’t make him a magician who could make the waiting paperwork disappear. “He seems to be enjoying himself.”

And making their lives somehow even more complicated. With a tentative ceremony date a month away, nearly every day over the next week had at least one meeting about some detail or another to discuss and plan, and no doubt the weeks after would fill up just as much. Considering one of the meetings was labelled ‘Centerpieces’, Ratchet doubted his preference for something small and simple would even be heard.

Optimus tiredly hummed his agreement.

“We never had plans of our own and we both have more important matters to focus on,” Optimus explained as he fell heavily on the edge of the berth, vents wide open in a low ex-vent, “so I gave him the task of planning it. With our input and permission, of course.”

“Right. And I’m sure he won’t take that and run wild with it.” Ratchet pushed at Optimus’s shoulders until finally the Prime lay out on his back. “I’m surprised he picked such an early date.”

“That was my doing, actually,” Optimus admitted as he shifted so his legs swung up onto the berth before reaching out for Ratchet. “I assumed that it was best to get this over with as quickly as possible.”

With practiced ease, Ratchet took Optimus’s large servo and crawled onto him to sprawl out across his torso. Ratchet still sometimes missed Optimus’s old frame, with his narrow waist and gorgeous hips. But changing to a cybertronian alt-mode had at least streamlined the sharper corners of Optimus’s now hulking frame, and there was something comforting about recharging atop his lover, to feel the gentle whirring of slowly quieting systems and the vibrations of his spark.

And, truthfully, Ratchet had always liked large mecha.

Ratchet grunted in agreement as he settled himself. “And less time for Spinmaster to do anything too insane.”

Optimus’s chassis rumbled with an otherwise silent chuckle.

“Convenient, isn’t it? Almost as if I planned it that way.”

“Clever fragger,” Ratchet praised. Then, after a moment, he quietly asked, “Should I have been there? At the announcement?”

“No,” Optimus answered immediately, one of his servos moving to stroke Ratchet’s lower back comfortingly. “I mean no offence, but it would have been worse if you had.”

Ratchet ex-vented heavily as he gave a little nod. “I know. But that meant you had to do it alone.”

“But you’re here, aren’t you?” Optimus’s servo drifted up over the medpack on Ratchet’s back to stroke the back of Ratchet’s helm. “While this situation is particularly invasive, we have weathered far worse things together. So long as I know I will be able to return to the arms of my old friend, I will manage.”

Ratchet’s spark warmed, though he still pushed up enough to rest his chin on his arms and look down at Optimus. “You say that, but I know you, and you’re always taking on more than you should without asking for help.”

Optimus’s optic ridges lifted slightly as he replied, “A failing we share.”

There was no denying that, so with a huff, Ratchet just insisted, “Promise to at least try to tell me if you need something.”

“Only if you promise the same for me.”

“Brat,” Ratchet grumbled, even as he leaned into Optimus’s servo as it cupped his face.

“I think we’re both a bit too old for that.” Optimus’s free servo grasped Ratchet’s and slowly brought it to his face, pressing a gentle kiss against it. “But I do mean it, Ratchet. Becoming a public figure is difficult and it’s only because I’m Prime that you have to endure it at all. Let me take responsibility for that by supporting you as you have supported me all these years.”

“I don’t think being outed as your lover is comparable to becoming a Prime,” Ratchet insisted despite the lingering frustration and helplessness that would not leave the edges of his processor. Optimus’s gaze did not waver.

“Ratchet.”

With a frown that Ratchet would swear wasn’t a pout, Ratchet ex-vented and said, “Fine. I’ll try.”

“Good.” Optimus gave his servo one last kiss before releasing it. “And since we’re being honest, you don’t happen to know anything about what led to a certain photographer posting a public apology, would you?” That startled a snort out of Ratchet and Optimus’s lips curled into an affectionate smile. “Who was it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ratchet teased as he stretched out again, nuzzling into Optimus’s chest, comfortable against his lover and surrounded by the blanket of their familiarity. “Now come on, we have a Primus-forsaken bonding ceremony to discuss bright and early tomorrow, so you should recharge.”

Optimus huffed an ex-vent that nearly sounded annoyed. Nothing serious, closer to a pout than anything.

“Wheeljack?”

“Don’t know.”

“Arcee?”

“No idea.”

“Bumblebee?”

“You really think they’d tell me? Especially now that they know who I recharge with?”

“You say that as if they weren’t already aware.”

That had Ratchet bolting upright.

“You knew?” he asked, optics accusing. Optimus shifted slightly under him.

“It would have been near impossible to keep it hidden with such a small team in such a small space, so I had my suspicions,” Optimus started carefully. “And there was the time when Bumblebee walked into the medbay when we thought the base was empty--”

“How am I the only one who didn’t know about that? In fact, how did you know he walked in without me knowing?” Ratchet demanded.

Optimus’s optics strayed towards the ceiling.

“You were rather occupied at the time so you wouldn’t have seen him.”

Ratchet’s optics shuttered offline as he groaned, “I was sucking your spike, wasn’t I?”

“I recall it being my valve actually, but yes.”

And somehow, out of the mixture of emotional exhaustion from the day and embarrassment and the sheer ridiculousness of this revelation, Ratchet laughed. It was all just so absurd.

And then his frame was caught up in Optimus’s servos and arms and Ratchet found himself on his back, pinned under the sheer bulk of his lover as Optimus kissed his lips, his chin, his neck—

“Optimus! We have to recharge!”

“And we will soon enough.”

Laughter bled into breathless moans.

And when they finally settled down to actually recharge, Ratchet felt more at ease than he had all day.

It would be just one month. Surely they would make it through just fine.

#maccadam #fanfiction #optiratch #I just *clenches fist* love these old gays #also back at it again with my incessant need to get their friends in the fic #let! couples! have! friends! #anyway i really need to update my fic list now haha

[beanie-beebo-writes]

It follows

Series Summary: Reader is running from financial problems and his/her studies, will they catch up with him/her? Charlie's close friends (none other than Sam and Dean) go to check up on the reader due to Charlie becoming worried for him/her. Trouble pursues, as the reader wants to keep silent about his/her struggles.

Warnings: Brief description of panic

Masterlist

Chapter 16

Three knocks pounded on the door, instantly waking you from a deep sleep. Your eyes quickly snapped open; none of your surroundings were familiar. You spiraled into a panicked state and began to hyperventilate, completely unaware of the movement around you. Frantically you started to yank yourself out of what seemed to be a hotel bed. Before you could move further, a large pair of hands softly, but firmly framed your face. Looking up, you met a pair of green eyes.

"(Y/N), you're safe, it's okay." The attractive man said calmly, searching your face for recognition.

As you began to fully wake up, you took in the room and slowly recalled the past 48 hours. You sighed and pulled Dean's body closer to yours without hesitation. He tensed up for a moment, but relaxed into your embrace willingly. Before you pulled away, he briefly rubbed your back and smiled reassuringly. Realizing what you had just done, you blushed furiously.

"You good?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, uh, I'm good." You replied quietly.

You turned to the sound of Sam and another man talking, who you could only assume was Bobby. At the sight of your attention, they stopped conversing with one another.

"(Y/N), this is Bobby Singer. He was the one who called us during the night." Sam introduced.

"So this is (Y/N)? The one who decided to tag along with you?" Bobby asked.

"Uh, yeah." Sam said.

"I'm sure you two tested her, correct?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, of course. We made sure to do it while she was out the other day." Dean said.

You turned your head at Dean with a look of pure fear, nowhere near knowing what they could have possibly meant by that. All three men returned your expression with apparent confusion.

"I thought you said (s/he) was helping you." Bobby said.

"(S/he) is." Sam said.

"Well then how about you explain that look on (his/her) face." Bobby retorted.

You gulped, still not knowing how to explain the situation without it sounding unsettling. They all stared at you as you briefly pondered, waiting for your response.

"I- I watch a lot of horror movies, I kind of know a thing or two." You lied.

"Bullshit. Horror movies don't teach you this crap. Now, how about you tell us the truth?" Bobby said as he strode towards you.

"I don't think you would like the truth." You admitted.

"Tough, because we ain't going anywhere until we know what's going on." Bobby said.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. "You know how Charlie is my best friend, right guys?"

"Yeah..?" The brothers said in unison.

"Well, she introduced me into this book series a long time ago, called Supernatural-" the three hunters groaned "-and before you label me as a creep, I'm not another Becky Rosen, I swear. I don't want you like that, at all. If anything, you guys... inspire me. When I was going through shit, I wished I could escape with you. I wished I could handle things like you did; I admired you. I didn't want to tell you at first, because, well, I expected this. I didn't want to freak you out. Hell, I didn't even know you guys were aware of the series' existence, and I didn't want to be the one to put that on you, " You explained, not allowing yourself to look at any of them.

Unbeknownst to you, all three of them were not disappointed in the slightest. They exchanged glances with one another before deciding to respond.

"That actually... makes sense. I'm.. honored." Sam said.

You looked up in confusion. "...What?"

"I've never really had someone look up to me like this, ever. And now that I know we could be inspiring others.." Sam said.

"..It means you help more than you realize." Bobby finished, looking them square in the eye. "You boys are heroes, and I've been telling you that since day one."

Flabbergasted, Sam and Dean shifted and looked around; it pained your heart with sympathy. You couldn't help but wonder if those books were almost serving as an autobiography, based on how touched they were.

"Alright, I think we have more pressing matters here, so maybe we could return to this later?" You suggested.

"I agree, let's stow it until this hunt is solved. Now," -Bobby clapped his hands together- "Where are we headed?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By nightfall, the four of you set out towards the wooded area, where the Kumiho had been reported numerous times before. You and the Winchesters lead the way in the Impala, while Bobby followed in his rusty pickup. As you hoped, the area was absent of anything but wildlife when you arrived, which would make the search less difficult.

"So, you have a plan how to exactly trap this thing?" Dean asked as he closed the driver side door.

"What, you think I'm gonna haul my ass up here without a decent plan?" Bobby asked.

"I didn't think you would." Sam said.

"Thank you. Anyway, I figured, it's basically a spirit, right? So I looked at some spirit entrapping and banishing spells, and I found a few things. I mean, this isn't your average Casper, but something is bound to work on it." Bobby said.

"Go on." You said.

"Lore says that the most common ways to lure and trap a spirit are with lengths of string, and a jar with certain types of incense, which I have both of." Bobby informed.

"Like a God's eye or a witch bottle." Sam said.

"Exactly. So I think we should try to lure it into the container and have someone keep watch over it, at least until the Kumiho transforms back into a human." Bobby said.

"Sounds like a plan to me." Dean said.

Bobby handed out the materials, which were conveniently and loosely packed into the small jars. Each of you were also sure to grab a heavy duty flashlight and your cell phones before you headed towards the edge of the dimly lit park.

"Can I tag along with Dean this time around?" You asked. "If not, I don't really care."

"Uh yeah, sure." Bobby said.

"Cool. So how are we going to give out a signal?" You asked.

"We have phones, I think that should be good enough for one." Dean answered.

"I think so too;" Bobby said, "be sure to keep your eyes open."

"Will do." Dean said as you split off into different directions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey Dean?" You asked, crunching through the foliage.

Dean briefly turned around, but made sure to continue walking. "Yeah (Y/N)?"

"Back at the motel, I didn't really mean to put you guys on the spot there, you know." You said.

"I know (Y/N), I know you couldn't really help that. Bobby can be like that sometimes, trust me." Dean said.

"Okay… Um. How did you find out about those books, anyway? I mean, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I just-" You stopped him and turned him around. "-I wouldn't want a series written about me either. I'm just curious, that's all."

Dean looked around before setting his gaze back on you, making sure they weren't being actively hunted. "Is it like a stalker thing or something?" You asked quietly with anticipation.

"No, uh, it's nothing like that." He said. "It's actually a long story, that you may or not believe."

"I mean, the story itself is real, right? There isn't much crazier than that." You said.

Dean awkwardly shuffled his feet, careful to not make too much noise. "Yeah, it's real, down to the last detail."

"I'm sorry, I won't pry-"

A twig snapped somewhere in front of you, silencing any thoughts but of the task at hand. You simultaneously turned to the source of the noise and silently communicated to one another. The forest suddenly seemed a little too quiet, but of course, that could have easily been you. Turning around a thin tree that blocked your view, you jumped back at the close proximity of a doe. Dean chuckled quietly at your reaction before firmly placing a hand on your shoulder. You sighed in relief and surveyed the area, to see if there could have been anything else to blame the noise on.

"Ugh, how long have we been in here for anyway?" Dean asked out loud, pulling out his cheap phone.

You peered over at the digital numbers on his screen. "Almost two hours… Does it normally take this long?"

"Not really," -He scrolled through his contacts until he landed on Sam- "I think I'm gonna give Bobby and Sam a call."

You stepped forward a few steps to give him some privacy, even though he wouldn't likely mind you listening in. It gave you a chance to observe the area anyway, as well as making the situation less awkward for yourself.

"Yeah?" Sam answered audibly.

"We've got nothing over here, how about you two?" Dean asked into the phone.

"Same as you, dead silent."

"We're gonna head East then I think, I saw some more woods on the drive back yesterday."

"Be careful, alright?" Bobby added, apparently overhearing the conversation.

"Of course Bobby." Dean said, flipping the phone closed.

"What do we do now?" You asked as you walked back over to him.

"We're gonna search in the woods I spotted when we flew out of here yesterday, since it's close by. You still up to tagging along?" He asked.

"Of course, I'm not letting you do this by yourself, even if you are Dean Winchester." You said.

Just as Dean had said, not too far down the road from the last location was a wooded area of similar size. The only difference, was the surrounding environment. Dean parked the car; you looked out the window at what resembled the beginning of the countryside. The previous area was more urbanized, unlike where you currently sat.

"Stay together, just in case if it decides to pop up in here." Dean said as you both made your way to the forest.

"Obviously." You said.

The large field that lay in front of the line of trees was lightly dusted with frost, almost like a warning of what could be waiting for you. Putting action over thought, you shook off the slight cool air and fear, and barreled into the dark forest. You were around halfway in when you realized the vibe had definitely changed. You made a move to stop but instead almost tumbled into Dean, who beat you to it.

"You feel that?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I'm not surprised you felt it too." You said.

"Stay close." He said.

You nodded and continued to quietly trek through the dark trees; a small clearing instantly appeared into your fields of vision. Just as you were about to comment on the irony of it, you froze at the sound of multiple branches crunching to your left. You prepared for the worst and tightly gripped the contents you would need, Dean followed suit. And then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw it, a beautiful woman emerging from the depths of the shadows.

#spn fanfic #spn x reader #spn reader insert

[carrotcouple]

KICKS DOWN DOOR HELLO LOVE MAY I PLEASE REQUEST TAEJUN MEETING EBISU IT CAN BE MODERN AU OR CROSSOVER OR WHATEVER YOU WANT I JUST WANT TO SEE YOUR TWO FAVS INTERACT THANKS FEEL FREE TO ADD MORE OF YOUR FAVS IF YOU WANT

Ebisu did a lot of head dives. He fell on his face a lot and usually in public places. He was used to it. Of course it never got any less embarrassing, but he had learned to deal with it. His disasters were usually low scale and only freaked his close friends. Ebisu’s greatest disaster was probably when he fell down a long line of stairs and had crashed into a poor old lady who dropped her shopping bags and all of the fruits and vegetable rolled across the ground - or splattered in the case of the tomatoes - and then some rich and popular person was tripped by one of the rolling cucumbers. The fight Yato had picked with the guy when he had started screaming at Ebisu was burned into Ebisu’s memory.

All in all, he didn’t really create natural disasters as Hiyori liked to accuse him of - that was Kofuku’s job. But this…this was the kind of disaster that left them all gaping and he and Kofuku were burning with second hand embarrassment for the poor guy.

Yato and the group that entailed ‘his friends’ had been invited to some kind of resort and things had been going pretty well for Ebisu, actually. He had only tripped eight times that day and he had broken only two things. Achievement of the week. Kofuku had been on her best behavior too and while she gave off a terribly ominous aura, she hadn’t done anything yet.

That was when Ebius’s attention had been drawn to a male with long hair in a half done bun. His hair was grey but not the kind of grey that came from aging. He looked younger than all of them except Kofuku and Hiyori - Yukine hadn’t been allowed to come. He was awkwardly trying to fend off a tall burly looking guy who looked very vicious. Judging by the way that others were looking at him, it seemed that the one in the wrong was the grey haired male. A red haired girl walked forward and calmed the situation with a handful of words and the grey haired male looked relieved before he stepped backwards and conveniently tripped.

Ebisu could almost see it in slow motion, the male fell backwards and the tiny firecracker in his hand went sailing to the fire. It hit and then set off but then landed on a straw overhanging that provided shade for a bench. The straw overhanging lit on fire and the girls sitting on the bench cried out and moved away. The grey haired male stared in horror as a glass one of the girl’s was holding went flying and landed very accurately into the fire. It exploded and roared and the grey haired man who was the closes cried out as his bag lit on fire. More fireworks went shooting off into the sky and luckily they only went up into the sky. The male tossed his bag and tried to find a way to get water, but he only tripped again and fell face forward into the pool.

Everyone was instantly up and getting water to put out the fires.

“That was…” Ebisu said blankly.

“I feel so bad for the poor guy.” Kofuku said with a small grin which didn’t really convince Ebisu of anything.

Said ‘poor guy’ was still floating face downward in the pool, probably hoping that he could drown himself right then and there. Ebisu had been there.

“I’m gonna go see if he’s OK.” Ebisu got up and approached the male floating in the pool. On normal days Ebisu wouldn’t dare to even start a conversation with someone new with intentions that weren’t work related. Perhaps he the klutziness displayed by the other had already worn away any jitters that Ebisu might have experienced. Ebisu bent down at the side of the pool. “Hey, you OK there?”

The grey haired male raised his head and Ebisu was startled by the pure misery on his face.

“I’ve done it again, haven’t I?” He wailed in distress.

“Well, at least we got a fireworks show out of it.” Ebisu said with a nonchalant shrug. “Did you get burned or anything?” Ebisu asked.

“No, I’m fine. I think…” he mumbled and then lowered his head back towards the water again.

“You should still have someone look at you. Why don’t I help you out and take you to one of my friends who’s a doctor?” Ebisu suggested. The other looked back up at him, the misery still evident on his face, but the shock of being helped after the calamity he had caused was overtaking that emotion. Ebisu helped the other out without falling into the pool himself and Hiyori quickly checked over the other.

“Well, I think you’re fine, since you went into the pool instantly. Just be sure to put a new band aid on that cut when it needs to be changed.” Hiyori smiled at him.

“There you are, you stupid noble!” A harsh and young voice shrieked shrilly and Ebisu fell out of his chair. OK, so that made it nine falls that day. A tiny boy with a feather clip in his hair marched over. “I’m sorry you had to deal with him, is he hurt?” His voice was harsh and the grey haired male winced but Ebisu could see the concern in the boy’s eyes.

“He’s fine. Has everything been settled?” Hiyori asked with a smile.

“Yes.” The younger boy told her. “Thank you for taking care of him. He’s a mess and always manages to create a disaster.”

“I can relate.” Ebisu and Kofuku piped up at the same time.

“Well, in Kofuku’s case, she creates the disasters on purpose.” Daikoku said.

“Well, at least now he has friends. I’m Yun and he’s Kan Taejun.” Yun said with a grin.

“Kan Taejun? As in the second son of Kan Soojin, the weapons industry head?” Hiyori cried out.

“Ugh, can we not talk about that?” Taejun groaned.

“Taejun’s been labelled family failure and is kind of estranged from the family because he wants to start up an organization to help people in need.” Yun explained.

“I didn’t ask you to say that.” Taejun hissed at Yun.

“No biggie, everyone here has something going on!” Kofuku beamed. “For example, Ebisu was thrown away by his parents because the doctors said his development would be slower than others.”

“Kofuku!” Ebisu snapped.

“What? I can already tell we’re all kindred spirits about to become the best of friends, might as well get the ugly stuff out of the way first!” Kofuku snapped back at him. “Anyways, you don’t worry about this disaster Taejun kun, Ebisu here almost gets killed by buses thrice a week!” Kofuku beamed brightly and Taejun just kind of stared at her with a horrified look on his face. Ebisu face palmed.

Why were these people his friends?

“Ah, Ace set the tree on fire!”

“Luffy, get down from that tree this instant!”

“But Torao said that if I-”

“Someone stop Boa! She’s having a panic attack!”

Hiyori made a face.

“Someone tell me Yato isn’t over there.”

“Oh, he’s definitely there.” Daikoku deadpanned.

#sunny writes #well this was a ride #unfortunately i couldn't write much ebi and taejun interaction #ebi made his effort #and something tells me taejun wouldn't be able to find the words to speak #to someone as imposing looking as adult ebi

[lalunangel]

I guess there’s this song.. and one more by him that I heard and I was hooked... back then my ideas on love were negative. I knew what my mom and dad did and I thought love was dead. The first boy I had ever been in love with cheated on me with a thuggish girl.. told me I was too soft.. said I wasn’t worth the year and 9 months he spent with me. In a weird way I wanna day it broke me but I didn’t have a song to put it to.. other than “I’ve given up on you by Real friends.” It was the only way I could identify it being over. I’m sure I cried over him. I’m almost positive I still had hope I was capable of loving rightly. Every guy after him though was just a game.. and they always cheated on me and I’d move on like it didn’t happen. My first abusive relationship happened when I was 12.. he would hit me and I accepted it but I knew I didn’t love him. I dated Angel C.. and he’s the one who made flowers bloom in my head and heart... then when we were freshman he did what he did and I think it was the first time I was actually sad I lost someone romantically. I moved on and played games with other boys. Andrew V.. used to hit me and emotionally abuse me and manipulate me into feeling like I absolutely needed to isolate myself. He shows me Chance the Rapper but I never correlated the music with him. I didn’t love him I just loved the freedom I felt with him... and the fear probably excited me back then because I hadn’t experienced anything. I was 15... going on 16. I dated De... and that was just a poor excuse but this was during the summer where I got to experience freedom for real.. my mom gave me up. Dropped me... and I got to skate all day and night and I spent days with him. I knew I wasn’t in love but I know that when I think about him “Let it go by James Bay” plays in my head.. he’s the silent breeze that creases your face. Makes you wanna chance the sun or stars.. he makes living feel like the spiritual feeling exists. But he’s not a good lover. He’s a friend and that’s it.. until he can find another emotonally depending human just like himself.. a level of clingy I can’t reach.. but never in his life would he hit me. The next big I dated was my current boyfriend Guillermo.. it didn’t last because we were together the whole school year but after May ended I realized he wasn’t going to text me back so we just fell off. Never actually said it was over but both knew we were done. I dated Tyler.. Tyler was scary and worse than any other boy I had dated.. on purpose made me feel small and spat me out and chewed me up.. hurt me.. actually.. when I think about him I feel cold.. like although we playing during that summer.. I was stuck in winter with him.. “Bloom by The Paper Kites” was probably the only song I felt but not because I felt love... I felt like love was far away and distant from me.. and that it was leaving me in a nasty haze of craze.. I wanted to be something to him but the more I tried the less interested I became.. he said that I should’ve killed myself a lot. Wouldn’t let me text anyone. Always on the phone even when I was at school when it finally came back around.. I shook under the pressure of him.. I was walking on eggshells but I didn’t do much else.. I called it off one day and blocked him. I got texts from our mutual friends saying how I owe him. I owe no man a damn thing especially when I’ve given my fucking all. I was the beautiful ripe age of 16 when I made that choice. I won’t put his name in this for personal reasons but my ex.. I dated him before I got back with Guillermo.. but we broke up because he cheated on me with her. And I didn’t have the energy. So “I don’t love you anymore by Real Friends” was his song. I would play it every time he sat next to me or made excuses to try and touch me. Someone told her he cheated on her with me and i was livid because it was the opposite but I just decided whatever they chose to say is what will be. He told her sorry as if he actually did it that way but never apologized to me. But I kept it bottled. I dated Guillermo again once I was 17

There’s still no song to match the love or the break up. It was mutual yet again an understanding but I know I would cry to the sad songs on the radio and on my phone but none of them were actually reserved for him. So.. I dated Dominic. I know I dated way too much for someone so young but I was still trying to test waters and see if my affection was real.. or if I was just like my mom. “Flower (Acoustic) By Vanna.” Was his song.. I had fallen in love with him quickly.. I hadn’t even noticed at first. But once I heard this song I cried because I knew that everything was biased and placed around him. I loved him. I was too young and too foolish. I don’t like people who try to fix me so when we broke up... I didn’t have a song for him. I just said “I don’t want to say I loved you enough to waste my time” but I did. I loved him so deeply.. he cheated on me too and I didn’t feel much towards it. It meant nothing. Senior year I dated my ex. I didn’t listen to music as much. Actually I would only play “Relax and focus” music.. it had scared me. I guess this time around I had decided that “I know it’s over By The Smiths” was the song I wanted to put labeled on out “love” but I wasn’t sure if I had loved him still. It was just convenient. He cheated on me yet again and I took some time from dating. I just hung out with my friends.. I guess this is when I found “Ocean of Stars by Demxntia” and I had wanted to be in love with someone so much that this had its own happiness around it.. but all yeh boys asking weren’t worth the ache and I wasn’t about to be stupid again. So I had given myself time and only hung out with people inside and outside of school.. Guillermo quickly became my favorite again.. we’d do homework together and laugh.. and we’d see movies.. take naps in his car. Go out to eat. During lunch we’d go check on his dog and mine. I didn’t realize that it was going to happen but one day while he was walking around market street with me he held my hand quickly and said “I have to tell you something” and I still didn’t have a song to dedicate to this poor boy.. at least not yet.. “Another you by Of Mice and Men” played one day while I was crying for my dad.. and i realized I wasn’t crying over him anymore... I was crying over you. I dated that ex again.. the stupid fool in me expected it to be okay and work out but it didn’t.. and I dated Dominic again but you could never love these people.. ever again.. after the ache.. and i realized although I had lived dominic undoubtedly I didn’t love t-him in that way. Then I found “The words I should’ve said by Demxntia” and I had thought about you.. Guillermo.. and I realize all these songs I’ve dedicated to other boys hadn’t even been the words I wanted to give them.. they just were the words I couldn’t find in myself to give to you.. they were the awkward declarations I couldn’t give to you yet because we never broke each other.. but the time we did... I did regret it. I loved you. This was the first time we left and it wasn’t mutual or understood- it was angry. The only time I had felt hurt by you. I didn’t need to give you songs back then. Didn’t need to label you or stamp you.. you were my forever and I should’ve saw that.. you were the only decent one.. all the love songs I gave them were songs I wanted to scream at you.. and when we finally started talking again... I felt so relieved.. I didn’t think things would go back to normal but when they did.. when you said you loved me.. I couldn’t be anymore grateful. I know it’s late and I’m making a stupid music post about my dumb history.. but I took so long to figure out who I really am. Way too long to figure out if I was able to love or not.. and I have.. and I carry them with me always but I sometimes skip the songs because I don’t accept broken hearts anymore. I just want to feel like I exist in joy... and you’ve done that. And I’ve worked hard to get here.

#music

[the-light-in-her-eyes-story]

Part 12: The Diner and The Motel

The next night passed very much like the one before, the two walking mostly in silence with intermissions of chit-chat. When it became too dark to see Adriane once again illuminated the night. The further they went down the mountain, the more sparse the trees became, and instead of lush forest bushes the terrain became inhabited by desert shrubs and cacti. As the sun began to rise they approached what appeared to Dane to be the edge of a sprawling desert town. 

“Welcome to Palmcaster,” Adriane announced, voice airy like a tour guide. “This suburban city is home to just under 200,000 ‘vibrant’ souls and is beloved for its chain restaurants and remote location, perfect for delinquents on the run from the law.” She smiled at Dane, gesturing around as though she was pointing out historic monuments you couldn’t pass up. 

Dane found this less funny than Adriane seemed to because the idea of being a wanted individual still left a sour taste in their mouth. Nevertheless, the idea of sitting down to a warm meal was incredibly enticing, and they eagerly followed Adriane into town. Near the outskirts they came across a diner. Using their reflections in the windows they both tried to dust off their clothes and smooth down their hair, Dane’s being more puffy than usual and Adriane’s decently knotted. They headed in, Dane following Adriane. Adriane went off to find a booth while Dane looked at the local newspapers sitting near the front. Apparently the city was celebrating its 95th birthday this year since it had combined from two neighboring cities that, over the years, had encroached closer and bled into one another until it made sense to officially become one. Stomach growling, Dane tore themselves away from the article and joined Adriane in the booth.

When the server came over, Dane was quick to order a burger, fries, and a glass of water. Adriane, hood up, sunglasses on, fingerless gloves concealing hands that were nervously tapping on the table, mumbled “same” when the server turned to her. 

The waitress looked a little put off by this brusqueness from what looked like a moody teen, so Dane quickly explained, “sorry, my friend has a migraine, thus the-” and gestured toward Adriane’s hood and sunglasses. 

“Oh, I totally get ya, honey,” the woman said endearingly, putting a hand on Adriane’s shoulder. Seeing the girl visibly tense up, she withdrew her hand and went to go put in their order, telling them she’d also bring some coffee. “That’ll fix your head up right quick.” 

As Dane ate ravenously, Adriane picked at her food, mostly sticking to the warm mug the server had brought her. She was sitting with her shoulders slumped, leaning against the inner corner of her side of the booth, one foot on the bench with her knee up. Beneath the sunglasses Dane could just make out that Adriane’s eyes were alternating between darting around to being clamped shut. She held the cup of coffee with both hands, tapping impatiently on the edge of it with her fingers. In the few days Dane had known her, they had never seen her look so uncomfortable. 

“Are you okay,” Dane asked quietly, not wanting to draw the attention of the other patrons, happily chatting at nearby booths. 

“Yeah.” Adriane said quickly, looking around at the others in the room. 

“You… don’t seem okay,” Dane said nervously. They weren’t sure if they were reading Adriane right, or how far to push Adriane to get an honest answer.

She just shrugged and brusquely responded with, “you try living in almost complete isolation, then suddenly jump into a busy diner.”

Dane mumbled “sorry,” and reached for their glass of water. 

Looking briefly at Dane and seeing that she had said something rude, Adriane added, “just give me a bit and I’ll adjust. People are just loud and chaotic and being so close is… overwhelming.”

Dane nodded and they finished their meal in silence. As their plates emptied they realized that they had overlooked something when they had eagerly marched in. 

“Hey Adriane,” they whispered, “I don’t have any money… Do you?”

Adriane smirked. “Nope.”

“What are we gonna d-”

The server walked up with the check, interrupting Dane’s question. Their eyebrows raised as they started to mutter random noises, unsure of what to do. 

Adriane briefly glared at Dane, then took the check from the woman, looked at it, and immediately handed it back. As the server’s hand touched the check, a subtle golden light seemed to snake from Adriane’s hand to the lady’s in a split second. She smiled and said “thanks you too! Take care of yourselves!” before walking away to tend to the other customers. 

Dane, eyes still wide, turned to Adriane in shock. “What did you do,” they whispered. 

Adriane smiled slyly and jerked her head toward the door, gesturing that they should leave. Outside, Adriane started walking down the street, hands in her pants pockets, and Dane jogged to catch up. 

“What did you do??” Dane pushed again.

Adriane shrugged irritatingly, smiling at Dane’s concern. “Made her think that we paid in cash and left her a nice tip.”

Dane gaped at Adriane. 

“You’re not seriously judging me?” Adriane said, less amused and now slightly annoyed. “The alternative is we don’t eat and leave town. Would you prefer that?”

“I guess not… but isn’t it stealing?” Dane asked sheepishly. They felt more like a criminal than they had this whole trip. At least before they hadn’t actually done anything wrong.

Adriane shrugged again, flippant. “I guess.”

They walked down the sidewalk for a while as Dane wrestled with their guilt. In the early afternoon they walked up to the entrance of a motel. 

Adriane turned to Dane, “Look, if you want to survive and travel with me you’re going to have to be okay with a lot of morally iffy things. If you can’t be okay with that, then you need to leave.”

Her expression was hard, unempathetic, and deadly serious. Dane’s internal debate had not yet reached a conclusion, but the idea of having to fend for themself in the middle of an unfamiliar city was terrifying. They froze, trying to think but finding their mind to be blank. 

Sighing, Adriane walked into the motel, letting the door close behind her. Dane watched it close and tried to take a few steadying breaths. This isn’t the time to hyperventilate, they reassured themself.  Just because you’re breaking more laws today than you could have ever imagined breaking in your worst nightmare that doesn’t give you an excuse to panic. Remembering that the whole reason they were in this mess was because they broke the law when they crossed into Downtown helped them laugh and break out of their frozen state. They took one more deep breath, then headed inside.

Adriane was waiting at the front desk, and upon hearing Dane walk in just gave them a little nod in acknowledgement. Dane joined Adriane at the desk as the receptionist came out from a back room. As soon as he was within a few feet, Adriane stared at him and a golden mist floated from Adriane’s outstretched hand to the man’s mind. Dazedly, he grabbed a set of keys labeled “112” and handed them to Adriane. As the two left he waved, wishing them a good stay. 

“You could have at least talked to him,” Dane grumbled. 

“Didn’t see a point. It wouldn’t change the outcome.” Adriane said, casting a sideways glance at Dane. “Oh, and in his mind he rented the room out to a local father and son whose house is being renovated, just in case someone comes asking about us.”

Dane thought that was pretty smart, but didn’t feel any desire to gratify Adriane with a compliment. Arriving at their room, Adriane unlocked the door and walked in. Dane caught the door before it closed and followed. It was a basic room with two beds and a bathroom. Looking at the shower, Dane realized it had been days since they’d bathed. Without saying anything to Adriane they went on in, washing their clothes in the sink and hanging them to dry while they showered.  Their mom had always yelled at them for taking such long, hot showers, but right now Dane wasn’t thinking about how much water they were wasting, or if there would be any hot water left for anyone else. Dane wasn’t thinking about anything at all. They just let the warm water wash away the dirt and stress. After what was probably an hour they finally dried off, realizing that there was no way their clothes were going to dry amidst all the steam. They stood, wondering for a moment what they should do, eventually realizing that their only options were to wear wet clothes or a towel. Despite their modesty’s screams of horror, they decided to go with wrapping a towel around themselves, then exited to find Adriane laying on one of the beds, legs crossed and arms bent with her hands beneath their head. Her eyes were closed. Dane shifted their stance into a tip-toe, trying to not wake her up. 

“I’m awake.” Adriane said, eyes still closed.

“Oh, sorry. I just thought…”

“Nah, just easier to read the people in the other rooms when there’s less distraction.”

“Read the other people?”

“Yeah,” Adriane said, turning her head toward Dane and opening her eyes. Blinking, she hesitated for a minute at the sight of Dane in a towel. “Uh… yeah. I was just sensing who was here, their motives, et cetera. What happened to your clothes?”

“I showered,” Dane explained, embarrassed. “And I washed my clothes, but they’re still wet… obviously.” 

“Ah.” Adriane said, gesturing a hand toward her bag. Golden tendrils shot from her hand to the bag, unzipped it, and pulled out a pair of jeans and a black shirt, which then shot over and hung in front of Dane’s face. “I think we’re roughly the same size. You can wear these for now.”

Grateful, Dane stepped back into the bathroom and changed into the clean clothes. Then they hung their clothes in front of the AC and laid down on their own bed. Laying contentedly for a little while, Dane realized that they were a little thirsty again. Adriane suggested they go check out the mini convenience store the motel had in the lobby. 

“Just tell the guy to charge it to the room.” Adriane said, making no movement to show she intended on coming with Dane. 

Begrudgingly, Dane went to the lobby and grabbed a few bottles of water and granola bars. Waiting for the receptionist to come out, they took a look at the newspaper rack. The top was the local newspaper they’d seen at the diner, but beneath that was the newspaper for the whole region. The front page made Dane drop everything they were holding. The article was titled “Massacre in Downtown,” and a large photograph covered the majority of the front. The picture showed what used to be the street outside of Adriane’s building, but it was now practically a crater. Littered about the wreckage of rubble and debris were countless bodies, broken and bloody. Dane hadn’t really seen the aftermath of Adriane’s retaliation, and had apparently blocked it out of their mind. They could feel their heart hammering in their ears and felt like they were about to throw up. 

“Let me see that.”

Dane jumped at the sound of Adriane suddenly appearing behind them. Their lips moved soundlessly, lost amongst the confusion and grief. 

“I felt your distress and thought you might have been under attack.” Adriane explained passively. “Now let me see that.”

Dane handed the paper to Adriane, hands shaking. Adriane soundlessly skimmed the article before letting out a long exhale and tossing the paper back on the stack. 

“They’re calling it an explosion, set off by ‘wanted criminal and accomplice,’” she laughed bitterly. “They’ve got a very vague description of us in here, but its so clearly censored that its pretty laughable. Obviously the police want us caught, but don’t want the public to know that I’m anything more than a normal criminal. They even described me as having ‘light blond’ hair! At least they said I’m to be considered ‘armed and dangerous,’” she laughed again, running a hand through her snow white hair. Dane couldn’t see what was so funny. It was one thing to know that people had died, but it was another to see the death and destruction. 

“Let’s get back to the room,” Adriane said, grabbing the dropped food and water. She led Dane back and once inside, sat Dane down. “Look, they attacked me. You know that.”

“But you could have changed their memories or perception or whatever it is you do,” Dane sniffed, eyes wet with unshed tears. 

Adriane shrugged. “I guess. But that woulda’ been less fun.” A dark grin spread across the girl’s face that sent a chill down Dane’s spine. Dane moved away from Adriane and sat in silence for a while. 

“How did you end up like this?” Dane asked finally.

“I don’t know.” Adriane said, smile faded from her face. “The magic just kinda… happened one day.” 

“You’ve never tried to find out why?”

“Nope,” Adriane started, initially flippant. Then, sighing, she conceded, “It took me a while to get a handle on my abilities… not that I have a perfect grasp on them. I’d hoped that maybe you’d know something about Eloise that would explain it, but now I’m not so sure. Its not like there’s a handbook about my situation. From what I know, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one like me.”

Dane nodded. 

“And who am I supposed to ask? Its not like the Fey give out their phone numbers for social calls.” 

“I guess not…” Dane said, then a thought bounced into life in their mind, “BUT, Eloise did think she’d found areas where the veil between the Fey realm and our world were weakened. Maybe if we went to one of those areas you could communicate with one of them?”

Adriane had straightened up at this and whipped off her sunglasses, intensely staring into Dane’s eyes. “There’s weak areas in the veil? And Eloise knew where they were?” 

Dane nodded.

“You better not be making this stuff up,” Adriane warned.

“I’m not! I assumed you knew about these places!” Dane exclaimed. 

“I’m not omniscient…”

“Okay, well, there’s one up north that’s known as Fey Buttes. It used to be a volcano or something named Sutter Mountain… I think.” Seeing Adriane’s incredulous glare, they added, “it’s been a while! Sorry I don’t have a perfect memory about all of history! Anyway, it’s a giant mound in the middle of fields and there’s been a lot of sightings there, and its a hotspot for Fey energy and plants, like fairyweed. It’s been investigated a lot and is one of California’s major energy sources…”

For once, Adriane looked at a loss for words. Finally she regained her composure and said, “I’ve had this dream for a while now of a large mountain peak in the middle of flat, barren land. I assumed that I had made it up, but I’ve felt this weird familiarity whenever I see it in my dreams.”

“That sounds like Fey Buttes! How can you have dreams about it if you’ve never been there?”

“I told you, there’s some things I know that I shouldn’t,” said Adriane contemplatively. “I need to go there.”

She looked up at Dane, “I can set you up with a place to live if you’d like, and a job or cash probably.”

“What?” Dane asked, confused.

“I have no expectation that you’ll come all the way to the Buttes with me.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cus this isn’t your fight.” Adriane stated, tone flat and emotionless.

This time, Dane was the one that shrugged. “It’s not like I can go home. And I don’t necessarily want to stay here either.”

Adriane nodded. “Okay. Then we have quite a journey ahead of us.”

“Can we sleep here at least tonight, though?” Dane asked, unable to hide the note of pleading from their voice.

Adriane’s corner of her lip twitched as she nodded. “Get some sleep. We’ll start preparing for the trip in the morning.”

“One last thing.” Dane said before making any movement toward bed. Biting their lip and taking a steadying breath they continued,  “if I’m going to be traveling with you I need two things. First, an assurance that you won’t hurt anyone, including me, unless it’s a life threatening situation, I guess.”

Adriane hesitated, then nodded. “And second?”

“Second, I need to know exactly how you got your abilities.”

[sweetnestor]

Story of Another Us | Week 7, Part 2

university au, platonic af, now on ao3!

warning: suicide mention

previous chapter

Play the scene over again

I woke up to find myself in the familiar setting of my bedroom. I felt disgustingly groggy, bringing the ball of my hand to rub my eye. When I removed it, I just saw smudges of black and gold, and I sighed. I fell asleep with my makeup on, which meant I had a million new zits to treat.

Once I crawled out of bed, I realized that I had fallen asleep in the clothes from yesterday as well. I remembered The Tube, and that I was with Jack. It was definitely my idea to bust out the alcohol, and now I was struggling to remember what exactly happened.

I heard him laugh in the living room. I wondered why he didn’t sound like a hungover mess, but then I remembered that I was the biggest lightweight in the world. I wondered if he remembered what we got down to last night.

I spent a good amount of time in the bathroom, washing off yesterday’s makeup and also puking. That was mainly why I never drank: I hated throwing up. I was always afraid of getting out of control and giving myself a hangover. Well, today that fear was my reality. You could imagine how shitty I felt in that moment. To top it off, Mother Nature decided to pay me a visit. Wait, it gets better. The box of necessary items I had under my sink was empty. I really shouldn’t have woken up at all today.

I didn’t trust myself at all to use toilet paper as a temporary substitute while I went to the convenient store down the street. But at the same time, I was too embarrassed to call Mark or even ask Jack to run the errand for me. Or… would I rather risk getting an awful stain on my jeans in public? What’s worse, embarrassment in front of one person or many people?

“Jack?” I called, hoping to god he wasn’t recording.

I opened the bathroom door and peered my head outside. I saw Jack enter my room, looking as rugged as I felt.

“Morning, Baller!” he greeted.

I smiled nervously. “Hey,” I spoke slowly, giving away how I felt. “Could you do me a big favor?”

“Of course, what do you need?”

Sheepishly, I reached my arm out of the bathroom, holding out the empty box of pads to him. “Could you run down the street and get me more of these?” My cheeks went completely red.

He took the box, examining the label. “Specifically this? Like, this brand and everything?”

“Yes please, if you don’t mind. I’m picky about my lady products.”

“Yeah, I’ll get them for you. Need anything else? Painkillers? Chocolate? Ice cream?”

I got even more sheepish. “Chocolate ice cream?”

“You got it!”

“Thank you so much, you’re an angel!” I called as he walked out of the room.

I physically relaxed once he was gone. One, because I was getting what I needed, and two, because Jack was really casual and sweet about it. Not that I wasn’t expecting that, I was just relieved that we were on the same level of closeness.

As that thought passed through, I remembered the conversation we had at The Tube. It was fuzzy, but I knew it had something to do with us being together as more than friends. Thinking about that made my stomach sink. Did I ask Jack to get me sanitary pads so comfortably because he’s my boyfriend now?

My stomach sank further. It was honestly a ridiculous thought, but my mind was never rational. I tried to remember more of last night’s discussion, but it was too fuzzy and faded. More reasons why I don’t drink alcohol.

What if I betrayed Mark? What if I went completely against all of my morals? Not only would I have cheated on my boyfriend, I would have cheated with one of his friends! And to think I went so easily with Jack when I didn’t want to at all with Mark! It just made me look that much more suspicious!

My phone dinged suddenly, making me jump. I really did not remember turning on the ringer. Today really was crazy. I left the bathroom to grab it off my nightstand and went straight back, discovering that I had a text from Mark.

“Good afternoon :p how you feeling? Need anything?”

My heart was racing unnecessarily fast. What could I say?

“Nope,” I typed. “Jack’s getting everything I need right now.”

And I hit send without even thinking about it. More like, I didn’t want to think about how it sounded because then I really would have freaked out.

Jack returned rather quickly, probably knowing how dire my situation was. He knocked on the door, and I reached my hand out to grab my necessities. He told me my ice cream would be in the freezer, and I thanked him multiple times, underlying anxiety running through my veins. He seemed to be acting normal, maybe he was avoiding the situation too.

Once I finished in the bathroom, I tried to distract myself with other things. Mark hadn’t texted me back, which only added more to my suspicions of betrayal. I didn’t have a video to film today, and I obviously missed my classes for the day. Not that I would be able to sit in a classroom with Jack for a period of time, much less the car. Everything felt wrong.

It took some time for me to work up the courage to leave my own bedroom. In my own damn apartment. Anxiety is a bitch.

I saw Jack sitting on the sofa, watching one of the Harry Potter movies on TV. I made my way to the kitchen before we could even make eye contact, though. Still, he asked me to join him from where he was sitting. I groaned internally as I grabbed my ice cream from the freezer, but I did as he requested anyway. At least we’d be watching a movie I could easily get invested in.

“You feeling okay?” he asked when I sat down.

“I’m fine,” I replied, pulling the cap off my tub. The irresistible urge to word vomit was coming up, however, and I couldn’t hold back. “Did we sleep together last night?”

For a second, Jack didn’t look at me. But then he turned, utterly bewildered. “No! What? Why would you think we did?”

Word. Vomit.

“I don’t know! You were so nice to me when I woke up y sentía rara y habíamos hablado sobre de ser un pareja y quien sabe que! Y mi ansiedad me pone paranoica y estábamos todo borrachos y no sé! No sé!”

Jack was still looking at me in shock. “I didn’t catch any of that, but I can tell you that we didn’t do anything last night! Mark picked us up, remember? There was a song playing in the diner, and you were telling me how much he hated it, and then he walked in. Don’t you remember?”

Nothing rang a bell. “But he left right after he dropped us off, didn’t he?” My mind was still trying to make me believe that I would actually betray my boyfriend.

“He left this morning. He and Ryan brought your car back from campus!” Jack reassured. “Bella, I promise you I’d never do something like that. You’re Mark’s girlfriend, and I have a girlfriend! We were only a little tipsy last night, it’s not like we were out of control.”

I sighed heavily, taking in a big spoonful of ice cream. Jack was still looking at me in thought.

“Or… do you feel guilty about the conversation we had?” he asked gently. “Was what we talked about something you’ve thought about before?”

I shook my head. “No. The shippers just got to my head, along with the alcohol. You’re my friend, I see you as my friend. My only friend that isn’t my boyfriend.”

He smiled at my statement. “You’re my friend too. And, speaking of your boyfriend, should we tell him about that little talk we had?”

“Maybe we should keep that to ourselves,” I said. “I mean, I didn’t tell him about that extensive conversation we had about One Direction. It’s not worth mentioning.”

“Okay. I won’t say anything either.”

I don’t know why it was so easy to talk to him. Things were just comfortable with him. I actually felt better, almost secure with what we had. It was no wonder why people looked up to him. He understood, and he gave off good vibes. That was what made it so easy to speak my next thought:

“Can I tell you about how and why I got into makeup?”

~

“For as long as I’ve been on YouTube, I never hid the fact that I’m bisexual. I was open about it from the start because I’m proud of it, and honestly, I don’t see a lot of bi representation in entertainment or the media. I think it’s important to have that, I know my fifteen year old self would have really needed to see that, but um… yes, my fifteen year old self.

“I came to terms with my sexuality at that age. Literally, as long as I can remember, I had a strong affection for girls as well as boys. I accepted that during my sophomore year of high school. Things in my life were so different at the time, so the first people I wanted to tell were my parents. It went well, it was fine… until I had my first girlfriend.”

I paused, pulling myself together before I could start bawling.

“It’s just… mindblowing that some parents will pick their religion over their child. I started having panic attacks and my own mother told me it was the devil possessing me and that’s why I was having ‘unholy’ thoughts about women. Needless to say, the rest of high school was hell. I was having panic attacks very often, and I had no idea what anxiety was or that I was experiencing it. I don’t know how I ended up thinking like this, but I thought that panicking for up to forty minutes everyday was normal. I thought everyone had shaking hands, or that it was normal to be afraid of making phone calls. I thought everyone felt these things I was feeling, but we weren’t allowed to talk about it.

“Anyway, makeup. Around my senior year, things at home weren’t any better, so I started avoiding going there for as long as I could. I was killing time at Walgreens because I was too anxious to ask my friends to hang out. Again, thought that was what everyone did. So I’m walking around the store, and I see this Wet n Wild eyeshadow palette. It was called ‘Spoiled Brat’ and the colors were black, pink and silver. For some reason, I just fell in love with it and bought it. I felt good about the purchase, and I started playing around with the colors. I mostly used the black and silver to reflect how sad I was at the time, and I wore it because it made me feel good. Like, everything sucks but at least my eyes look dark and edgy.

“So I graduated and moved out of my parents’ house. That was almost six years ago, and I haven’t spoken to them since.” I shrugged, emotions stuck in my throat. “I’m okay with it. Anyway, at one point I came out as bisexual on Facebook, and to put it shortly, I ended up removing all my family members. The second I knew they said something against my sexuality, they were gone. Or they just stopped inviting me to things, and quietly made their message clear. After putting up with my parents, I just didn’t want anyone to have a say in who I am. It was hard having to leave them behind, because up until then, I did have a decent relationship with my family, but not one of them wanted to understand me. And to me, that’s not family.

“Uh… time went on, I started going to cosmetology school, and I fell in love for the first time. That relationship ended, and I pretty much spiraled. It wasn’t just that particular breakup, it was everything. See, I was with this girl. She was amazing, but she hadn’t come out to her family, and they were… like my parents, but worse. We broke up because she was terrified of her parents finding out, and while I understood that, I was in a place where I wouldn’t let people tell me that liking girls was wrong. So after that, I was just alone. Here I was, bisexual and proud, but I was alone. My family didn’t want me back, and all the friends I had were her friends and they didn’t want to talk to me anymore. And I was still having panic attacks and bouts of depression, and I felt like that was killing me. I wanted it to kill me. I started thinking about suicide, and I planned it out, and set a date.” I looked down, tears finally falling.

“Then, one day. One fucking day I was browsing online, looking at makeup, and I found this thing called a ‘Chocolate Bar Palette.’ It piqued my interest and I placed an order. The delivery date was a few days after my date… so I put it off just to try this palette. Then it was a lipstick, then a contour kit… I kept pushing my suicide date just to try all these makeup products. Next thing I know, it’s twenty fourteen, and YouTube University is announced.

“It got better. I found my current boyfriend at YTU, and he makes my world easier and happier.”

I could help but cry even more. I couldn’t believe someone as dull as me was here now. I couldn’t believe I was still alive.

“Okay, okay…” I sniffed, wiping the tears away. “So what you should take from this video is first, there’s no shame in who you are. It’s a long and hard process, but you deserve to be happy and proud of yourself. Second, there’s no shame in reaching out and getting help. It took me years to finally see a therapist and it’s really benefited me. And finally, there’s no such thing as a dumb reason not to kill yourself. You are worthy of a good life, you need to stay and see what life has to offer. When I was twenty one and crying in my studio apartment, I didn’t think I would be here now! And I’m not saying I’m one hundred percent okay either. Recovery is an everyday thing, and I know all of you going through dark times right now are strong enough to make it. I promise you it won’t be like this forever. We’ll do this together. I love you all so, so much, and thank you for watching.”

_______

next chapter

#jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticeye x reader #jacksepticeye x oc #markiplier x oc #markiplier x reader #sweetheart writes #soau #now yall know about bella #i have many plans for her #for her and jack and for her and mark #yall dont know whats coming

[hjernepromp]

Forget me

You really have no idea how close you are to having to plan a funeral for your own child, do you?

Before you yell at me for posting this on Facebook, and I know you will because you did it before and you will do it again and tell me to talk to you if I’m so unhappy even though you already know you won’t actually listen to a word I say, and because you adopt the “yell first, talk never” policy, know that I can set the restrictions to this post so I control who can see it. Don’t worry, I would never dream of ruining the facade of this ever-loving family you constructed to show the public.

Even now, I know you will refuse to read or understand this and still yell at me or give me the silent treatment because you view this as a betrayal of your trust, even when there wasn't even a trust in place to begin with. There hasn’t been for a very long time.

Did you know that when I was still working in EY 2 years ago, I was so mentally distressed I spent my days in tears and my nights crying myself to sleep while contemplating the best ways to die? The times I drove home from work and fantasized about driving the car off the flyover or crashing into the lamp post. You don’t, because the only conversations we had were "I'm awake" and "I ate dinner".

And because I plastered a smile on my otherwise emotionless face when you visit.

Do you know that the reason why I am still alive today is because I thought of how my mother and grandmother will react to the news if I had died?

You don’t, because in your mind, I am a selfish person who does not care about anything other than myself.

Did you know I came back to this place I couldn't wait to leave years ago because I couldn’t bear to spend another living minute rushing for deadlines and feeling useless for not being able to cope with my work because the managers thought I seemed efficient and therefore showered my with work that I was not even capable of doing?

You don’t.

Did you know I came back thinking I would be loved and supported for everything I do as long as it doesn't hurt any living beings?

I was wrong.

I remember expressing my wish to apply for a cabin crew position perhaps a year after I came back. Someone in this household scoffed and told me, 'why do you even bother coming back?' This was the first sign that I wasn't welcomed back home.

A sign I blissfully ignored.

Do you remember a couple of months after I came home, I got yelled by OB for asking if I can use the shower before he does? You never knew I spent the following days considering going to the condo and jumping off the ledge. The only thing stopping me was the thought of Loki and Toby wandering the streets because I knew no one would keep them if I wasn't around anymore.

You shouldn't wish for them to be gone. They are the only ones anchoring me to this world. Without them, I would have killed myself a long time ago.

Do you know how the way I was brought up in this household by being repeatedly told I am useless and should be ashamed of myself for not having good grades in school affected me these days?

You don’t.

You make fun of me for not having friends.

Do you know why? Growing up, my father repeatedly told me, ‘no one will ever like you. Even your mother doesn’t want you.’ All just for not being academically good. I remember once when my parents came to pick me up from my piano lesson. The teacher told you things about my progress. I remember walking out of the piano centre, walking down the stairs with my ears pulled by my own father, telling me I am an embarrassment.

Despite all that, do you remember forcing me to put on a performance every time someone comes visit because you want to appear proud of me even when deep down I know you only did it to boost your own ego so people praise you for being good parents?

Everything you forced me to do, you made me hate it.

You lost me when you conveniently turned deaf and blind when I was chased around the dining table and whipped for 44 times until I had scratches on my face by my very own father. Just for almost failing my test at age 10.

You lost me when you did nothing when my father threatened to beat me into a pulp for taking off the seat belt too carelessly that it flung onto the car window and chipped it. OB saved me. He hid the cane.

He saved me. You lost me.

You lost me when you turned a blind eye on things like these.

"Not helping someone in need was akin to being complicit. Standing by to watch a child being beaten or starved was almost the same thing as doing the beating and starving yourself."

You are as much an accomplice as the perpetrator.

Do you remember slapping me because I didn't finish my homework?

Do you remember beating me because I went over to the neighbour's house to play? And now you wonder why I don't have friends. I wasn't allowed to have friends. I was conditioned to be alone since I was a kid.

These are the things I remember from my childhood. I don't remember anything else. These are the things that have burned themselves into my mind, erasing everything else.​

Do you know I don't have a best friend or anyone to tell things to because I don't fit in? I never did. I am always being reminded by the voice from the past that any friends I make will leave me for new friends because no one will like me.

Because they always do.

I can't even talk to my own family because I am an outcast. Anything I say will be used to belittle me, turned against me to make me feel even worse. Everything I do is always wrong.

No, not always.

I remember the happiness on your face when I found the Louis Vuitton handbag you thought you lost. I remember the smile on your face every time I bought you your favourite ice blended chocolate from McCafe.

Everything else I do never made you happy.

Do you remember me expressing my wish to go back to study as a veterinary technician? Do you remember what you told me? You told me I was too old to go back to study. In your heart of hearts, you believed I am too stupid to ever succeed because I wasn't academically good. Do you realise when YB told you he wanted to study further, you told him to go ahead? Do you ever realised how biased you are?

I thought if I weren't allowed to study as a veterinary technician, the least I could do is try on my own to make lives better for animals around me.

Acquaintances who knew I adopt cats think I am a good person. People who knew I take in strays to neuter them think I am a good person. They think I saved those animals. They are wrong. Those animals saved me. But they are still proud of me for doing this.

No one in my family is. Family is supposed to be the biggest supporter of a person. But no one in my family is ever proud of me.

All of you think I wasted my own money and time for a nuisance. All of you think I am doing something useless because it does not profit me or my family. And all of you think I am going to keep the strays because I love cats, even though I kept reassuring you I will be releasing them once they are well enough to go back to the streets.

You kept asking when they are leaving. I kept explaining.

You never listened.

You kept implying I am going to keep them. I kept saying no.

You never listened.

Saving those cats gave me a purpose in life. Knowing I made their lives better gave me a purpose in life. Take that away from me, I have no purpose in life. I have nothing to live for.

One day soon, you will barge into my room in the early hours of a morning, yelling at me for being lazy and I won't budge. You are always angry at me and most of the time, I don’t even know why. Is it simply because I exist? You will get mad and yell some more, grumbling about how I am good for nothing, how I should sleep early and wake up early like you because people shouldn't be able to choose the way they live their lives. They should follow the way you choose for them because you always know what's best.

Because you are always right.

But I will never wake up.

You will discover me, cold and stiff. Not breathing. My heart not beating.

I hope then you will realise how fucked up I have become over the years.

I hope you realise I never escaped the childhood trauma you helped caused.

I hope you realise how I was still mentally trapped in the past.

I hope you realise all the yelling and screaming in the household almost every day weren't helping. They made it worse sometimes I hear those voices in my head.

I hope you realise your mistake when you said, 'everyone wants to live, but these people want to die,' every time you see news about people committing suicide.

Suicidal people are not selfish. The world is just bleak. No one cares. No hope left. There is no point in living when all we do is create more problems for other people who are happily living. Do you realise how hopeless a person must feel to be attracted by the prospect of death?

I hope you realise I might still be alive if parents actually care about the mental well beings of their children instead of self-labelling them as crazy and tell them, 'don't say stupid things.'​ every time they express their wish to die.

When I —when, not if. Maybe not today. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe some days later. You will never know until it’s too late. But I will. I assure you, I will— kill myself, I don't want a funeral. I never did understand the need to exhibit a person's dead body for people who never really cared to pretend to cry over and even worse, to take a photo of the dead body to share it onto their social media accounts for likes. I don't need relatives who never cared pretend to care when I'm gone. I don’t need relatives who despised me pretend to be sad when I’m gone.

I don't want a coffin. Don't bother spending an obscene amount on coffin when you never cared when I was alive.

I will also save you the trouble of advertising in the newspaper, because I don't have close enough friends who need to be notified of my death.

Dump me into the ocean. Let me feed those starving sea creatures as one last good thing contribute to the environment.

I will be alone. Like I always was.

Nothing will change.

Forget me. Like you always did. Like everyone always did.