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beccascribbles · 4 years

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hey hey hey!! would i be able to request yamaguchi, kageyama, tendou, and tsukki (and maybe possible akaashi and kuroo) with their friend (whom they have a crush on) who was in an abusive relationship in the past and they want to confess to them 🥺 this happened to me and i need my cute bois with fluff 😌

a/n - hey! i didn't do akaashi and kuroo because i actually ran out of ideas. sorry about that! i hope you enjoy and that it's fluffy enough 😊

it was painfully obvious this boy had a crush on you

the flushed cheeks when your shoulders accidentally brushed, the way he would sometimes stumble over his sentences

a part of you wished he would confess already, though the pining looks he sent you were sweet enough to still your impatience

however, yamaguchi had no idea how he would confess

coupled with his fear of rejection, he also knew that your last relationship had been hard on you, the emotional abuse at the hands of your ex enough to make you fear that level of intimacy with another person

so, he began to compliment you, little throwaway comments that would mean nothing to the ordinary person but meant the world to you

"how are you so clever? it took me forever to work out that equation"

"your hair looks really pretty like that"

sometimes it was just a simple "you look beautiful", delivered with his characteristics blush and a quick moment of eye contact before his darted away

these little words of affirmation, his constant need to check you were alright, gradually drew you to him

yamaguchi gave you comfort, security, so one day, while you were sat beside him on the sofa, you told him as much

"tadashi, you make me feel so safe and secure. thank you, for everything"

"it's fine. you don't have to thank me for doing something i want to do," he explained, slowly reaching out to grab your hand. he gave your fingers a light squeeze. "i really like you, y/n"

you blinked slowly, a grin pulling at the corners of your lips as he looked at you nervously. for some reason, despite your smile, he feared the worst, pulling his hand away

you reached out, clutching onto it desperately

“don’t pull away, tadashi,” you begged, voice soft. “please”

“okay,” he replied, fingers once again tangling with yours. his gaze was fixed on your face, on the soft smile to your lips as you looked at your intertwined hands

that look was all the confirmation he needed that, in that moment, you felt the same

there was no knowing where this new chapter of your relationship would lead, but you were both willing to turn the page and find out together

sometimes he can come across as quite an emotionless or cold person but this isn’t really his fault

all his life, volleyball has been the one consistent thing that he has been able to love, though it has ultimately been at the root of all his problems

therefore, when he finally realises that he does have feelings for you, he’s going to be very weary around you, likely fearing that if he gets too close, you will abandon him

this fear is fuelled by the way you would sometimes flinch away from his touch

the action has nothing to do with him personally. it’s just a lingering emotional scar from your past relationship, one that makes you fearful of his innocent touches

kageyama is observant. he knows you shy away from his touches. he knows that you went through a rough relationship last year. he comes to the conclusion that you don't want to date anyone for a while, so therefore he won't pursue anything

but this decision doesn't put a stop to his growing feelings for you, that fierce spike of protectiveness he feels, the need to be near you overwhelming him all the time

each of these feelings wear down on him until he finally decides to confess (after googling the best way to do it and going to his senpais for help)

he approaches you holding an armful of food, chocolate, sweets. you name it, if it was on one of the many websites that he purused for two days, he has it

the items are dumped rather unceremoniously on your table. he clears his throat awkwardly and steps back. "these are for you"

his hands are clasped behind his back, and he is rocking back on heels as he waits for your reaction. your head tilts up to look at him, meeting his deep blue eyes

"um, what's this for?" you question, poking innocently at a chocolate bar

"i like you, y/n"

the words are said so bluntly that it really shouldn't have made your heart flutter. but, it's been so long since someone has told you something like this, it warms your heart

"tobio"

you say his name softly, on an exhalation of breath. he hurries to speak his next words, cheeks flaring red as he avoids your gaze, terrified of the rejection

"we'll take it slow. we don't have to do anything you don't want. but, i promise i will care for you and never hurt you"

his words make you pause, blink slowly up at him. finally, a small smile pulls at your lips. he returns it hesitantly

"okay," you agree. "we'll try it"

he's overwhelmed with the need to hug you but, knowing it could make you uncomfortable, settles for grabbing a chair so he can sit at your table, giving you his presence but not his touch

and you are grateful for him, for his understanding. you know he won't push you and that trust is what allows you to trust him, at least a little

he was there for you in the aftermath, a constant figure, a person you could turn to who could give you the comfort you craved

therefore, when he realised he had feelings for you, he would be very hesistant to tell you

not only would there be a risk of ruining your friendship, there is also the risk of you feeling uncomfortable to know he thought of you in that way

it would probably take a while for him to confess (he won't do it until he is sure you are in a better mental state and less likely to reject his feelings)

throughout his period of waiting, he acts no different with you, still the fun-loving tease

if you were paying attention, you probably could have picked up on him having some feelings for you as he made every excuse to spend time with you

he'll finally decide to confess after he sees your first genuine smile

you were sat together on the grass for lunch and he had caught you looking at him with the brightest smile on your face

this had immediately caused him to perk up, flashing you an enthusiastic grin, which caused you to look away in embarrassment

"why are you embarrassed?" he questioned, that same smile still tugging at his lips. "that's the first time i've seen you smile like that in a while, and it's a very pretty smile"

"shut up, satori," you stammer out, hand going up to hide your face. it's been a while since someone has so obviously complimented you

"please look at me, y/n," he begs, though he makes no move to pull your hand away, staying in the same spot he was originally sat in. "okay. you don't have to. i would have preferred to say this to your face but i like you. a lot. i have for a while now"

it's these words that cause you to finally look at him, eyes slightly widened as you process what he just confessed

you choke on your next words. "you like me? why? how?"

"because you're perfect in everyway"

the words come out with no hesitation, making it clear to you how truthful his statement is. those words warm you but it is his next ones that make you realise how much you like your friend

"we don't have to do anything about my feelings now. we'll take it slow. i just wanted you to know that i like you"

"i think i like y/n" are the words he utters to yamaguchi, who is sat cross-legged on the floor opposite him, a magazine open in his lap

tsukishima is rarely open and honest with his feelings so the words shock yamaguchi to the point where he has to shut the magazine he was reading

yamaguchi looks at him, almost urging him to repeat the words. but tsukishima is stubborn

"i'm not repeating myself. you heard me"

he then puts his headphones on and blocks out yamaguchi's questions. probably walks out of the room at one point just to get some peace and quiet, despite the music destroying his ear drums

though he is a snarky and sarcastic arse most of the time, you know he cares. he wouldn't be your friend if he didn't. however, he's never made a playlist for you before

he walks over and just puts the headphones over your head, and just tells you to listen

most of the songs are soft, romantic, a way for him to express his feelings without speaking them out loud

you just stare up at him, kind of confused but touched all the same. tsukishima rarely shows affection so the fact that he spent his time on a whole playlist speaks volumes

"thank you," you say, smiling up at him almost shyly. a part of you hesitates, almost fearful that if you admit to returning his feelings he will suddenly change

"you're thinking about that idiot, aren't you?" he says, arms crossing over his chest as he looks at you. you nod, embarrassed to be caught. "i'm not the same as him. our relationship would be completely different. for a start, we'd be equals"

that playlist he made for you quickly becomes your favourite comfort music as it reminds you that someone cares

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hoyaanae · 3 years

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My thoughts and all the things I love about Lovely Us (2020)

This drama really surprised me with how good it was written and made despite already knowing that this is highly rated by my cdrama mutuals. First ep right off the bat made me laugh and cry. The following eps kept the flow really well and established the characters and their relations. Before I know it, I'm already in love and attached to the characters and everything about this drama. It's very charming, calming and heartwarming to watch. The acting, writing, execution, ost, and production are well-done.

Set in 2007, this is another drama with nostalgic vibe that will remind you of your childhood and probably teenage years as well of your old neighborhood and the people you used to hang out with when you're younger. Even though I'm kinda fed up with childhood friends to lovers trope by now, this one did it the right way. Romance is slowburn but the buildup isn't slow at all. The main cp are so cute despite the daily bickerings that you just can't help but root for them to be together. It also have unrequited love trope where you'll see the character continuously root for that person and not expecting anything in return. There's no antagonist/evil characters in this story, just your feel-good slice-of-life drama with a touch of teenage romance in it.

Another strong point this drama have is the friendship and family dynamics. The five main leads have such amazing and solid friendship and their chemistry with each other is very natural to watch you'll wish you have the kind of friendship they have. It's endearing how their respective families are friends with one another and the parents have absolute trust with their children even allowing them to stay in closed room, have overnight at their house without adult supervision and even go to outdoor camping sharing one tent. It's refreshing to see how they showcased different parenting styles in each household and the parents aren't portrayed as someone controlling, instead they understand and communicate with their children. There's even one case wherein a parent realized he's doing it wrong so he asked for advice and help from his son's friend in order to get closer with his son.

Unlike other dramas, this one never drags out misunderstandings and touches the issue in the most heartwarming way that it never felt annoying or frustrating to watch, instead I became emotional at those moments that I can't help but shed a tear or ugly cry.

The characters are funny, full of mischief but sweet and thoughtful on the inside. It's a delight to watch them get together and have their little meetings, bicker and help each other out.

The ost will surely stay on repeat in my playlist for the next few days or weeks even. The song choices fit the mood so well and I find myself heavily lss-ed with the opening song. The song "Can I See You Tomorrow?" gives off the ultimate nostalgic vibe and reminds me of one ISWAK ost.

What really stood out to me the most are the moments in each ep wherein a certain character will narrate his/her thoughts about love, life, and family. They're beautifully and oftentimes poetically written matching with flashback scenes that made the dialogue even more heartfelt.

Here are some of the lines that are deeply engraved in my heart because they are beautifully written and will really go well as book passages:

"Once people become parents, their memory begins to become biased. They always remember they are their children's most reliable parents, but often forget that they are also children loved by their own parents. When they are waiting for their children to come back home, they forget that their own parents are also waiting for their return in a similar mood."

"The audio frequency of the sound when a snowflake falls on the water surface is over 50,000 Hz. Because it falls beyond human being's hearing range, this snowy day is still so quiet that it seems I can only hear my own heartbeat and that it seems there is only me and the person in front of me on this planet with a population of 6.6 Billion. I hope this world can be noiser so that I can pretend that I've never discovered this secret."

"They think that the probability is just 0.01, so they put on the emperor's new clothes, trying to hide their affections with magic. But affections are not that easy to hide. Even if the probability is pretty low, it will be revealed at a certain moment. So on that rainy night, while looking at her back, he found that the most obvious evidence of falling in love with her was the feeling of easement in his heart and the smile on his face when he looked at her."

"You think nothing will change as time flies by. But this time, the moment you let go and turn around, some things completely changed. The sun went down and before it rises again, some people will leave you forever. We always thought that there would be a big ceremony to say goodbye, so we keep waiting for a warm hug, a refreshing drink, and a heartfelt goodbye, but in the end, we realized that most goodbyes in our lives are all silent."

"At that silent corner in my mind, there are a number of weird illusions. For example, can I become Alice who enters the wonderland with White Rabbit? For example, can I become the little girl who enters the forest with Totoro? For example, is there some special switch in this box which can teleport me? No, none of them exist. There's no flying dragons or knights, and I'm not the heroine of some comics for girls, either. However, the only thing I'm sure about is that this escape greatly shocks my world. My palms would sweat, and my sight would be indistinct. Then my view becomes narrower and narrower until there's room for only one person in my eyes. After a long time, I know such a moment is named adventure, in which the one in your eyes is irreplaceable."

"The familiar chirping of cicadas on summer nights, the familiar bear doll who must lean by the lamb, the familiar lovely girl who frowns even when she sleeps, and the 17-yr-old time wrapped by the sense of familiarity never seem to have changed. The only difference is that when I look at the familiar him, I feel a flurry and uneasiness that I have never expected."

"There are many new days like today. Today, he holds my hand. Today, he holds me in his arms. Today, he carries me on his back and runs in the street in the early morning. Many days with him like today will eventually become my unforgettable past days. I'll remember days like today for a long time."

"Friendship means so much to us. It brings us close, and makes me flinch, so sometimes we just tell ourselves that as long as we're together, I can be just a friend of hers. But the taxi that I failed to catch, the phone calls that have been hung up, the time that's flying and my restless heart are telling me eagerly that in this world, both love and friendship are important. Every detail related to you is reminding me that we can't be just friends. So when it's still not too late, I have to tell you the things that I want to tell you as soon as possible. Huang Chengzi, I like you."

"In this world, it seems like all wishes have a guardian. Wishing wells, shooting stars, the aquarium's white whale. They're all hiding in the corners of the universe caressing the sorrow of loving someone alone. It's just that the god of happiness can't bless everyone out there. They let some people be happy and their wishes come true, and let some be sad, but they can't admit how sad they really are. The feeling of being in love is like a butterfly gently flapping its wings, that stirs up a hurricane in people's hearts. The second you realize it, then there's no escape."

#如此可爱的我们 #Lovely Us #Cdrama #Lovely Us cdrama #cdrama review

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justcallmefox89 · 4 years

Text

Truth or Dare Part 5

Tension builds in the House of Lamentation, and one relationship grows as another falls apart. Arianthi finds out the brothers have been keeping a secret from her.

NSFW - penetrative sex, unprotected sex

TW - Possible TWs for those who have suffered from physical abuse.

Written from the perspective of my female character Arianthi.

I’m adding a different mood playlist to each installment of this series, just songs that I listened to while writing and feel embody each part of the story.

Hey Violet - Like Lovers Do

Post Malone - I Fall Apart

Tom Odell - Another Love

LP - Too Much

Hozier - Better Love

Mammon and I stare at each other for what seems like forever, but in reality can only be a few seconds. Seeing him cry triggers all my usual instincts.

Protect him, hold him, make it better.

I try to move away from Diavolo but he sleepily tightens his hold on me, and I watch as Mammon slowly closes my bedroom door. I stay still and listen as his footsteps steadily fade, a slow crack forming on the one piece of my heart that Mammon hasn’t already shattered.

Diavolo nuzzles the back of my neck. “Something wrong?”

“No. No it’s nothing.” I relax back into his arms.

I don’t owe Mammon anything, especially not after tonight. Just enjoy having Diavolo in your bed.

“Well, if you’re still awake I obviously didn’t do my job well enough earlier.” Diavolo skims a large hand down my stomach and between my thighs while he lazily rocks his hips against my ass. “Let’s see if I can improve on that.”

He roughly pushes two fingers inside me; I’m wet with arousal and his earlier release and he uses that to his advantage, pushing in and out, making me even wetter for him. He slides his other arm under my shoulders to palm my breasts and hold me tight to his chest. He removes his fingers and brings his hand behind my knee to slightly raise my leg, then slowly slides his cock deep in my pussy.

Despite our earlier session it is still a tight fit, and when he lowers my leg it becomes tighter still. I’m deliciously sore, pain edging along with pleasure as we melt together. His hand comes to rest on my lower stomach, pressing our hips tightly together as we sleepily rock against each other. His thrusts are slow and shallow, but still manage to hit all my sweet spots.

Diavolo flutters soft kisses up my neck to my ear. “You feel so good....how do you feel so good?”

I loll my head back against his shoulder to allow him access to the other side of my neck. I feel his soft lips again, then the sharpness of his fangs as his nips at my neck, marking me as his. I moan and raise a hand behind me to tangle my hand in his hair, attempting to pull him even closer. The only sounds in my room are our mingled sighs of lust and bare skin meeting bare skin. I feel my orgasm coming on, unfurling like silk low in my abdomen. One last thrust from Diavolo sends me over the edge and my pussy clenches around him; he follows immediately, shooting spurt after spurt of cum deep inside me. It mixes with his earlier release and runs down my thighs, my body unable to contain all of it.

He pulls out and rolls me on my side to face him, putting one hand between my thighs to collect his cum on two fingers. He swipes them slowly over my lips, coating them.

“Kiss me.” The low growl is an order I immediately obey, and he licks along my lips before his tongue meets mine, and we share the taste of our mutual release.

He breaks the kiss after a few moments, then wraps his arms around around me, cradling my head against his chest. He rests his cheek on top of my head and presses a kiss into my hair. “Good night princess.”

I wake up several hours later, still in Diavolo’s arms. I can hear the persistent buzzing of my D.D.D. on my nightstand. I free one arm and snag it, thumbing open the home screen. 56 new messages and 11 missed call. I scroll through them; they’re all from the brothers, minus Mammon.

You missed breakfast are you ok? Will you be joining us for lunch? Please answer the door, we’re worried. Please come down for dinner.

I throw the D.D.D. away from me as hard as I can and it lands on the carpet with a thud.

“Nobody you wanted to talk to?” Even though his voice is thick with sleep I can hear amusement in Diavolo’s question.

I stretch out lazily next to him and shake my head. “Just the boys. I missed breakfast and lunch. They’re worried I’m going to turn my room into a bunker.”

“Don’t you think you should let them know you’re ok?” Diavolo’s eyebrows draw together in worry.

I reach out and smooth away the wrinkles in his forehead with my thumbs before pressing a light kiss there. “If you keep frowning that way your face will get stuck like that.”

He chuckles as he reaches out and catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “You’re adorable, but I’m not letting you get away with not answering.”

I sigh. “I’ll eat dinner with them tonight. Right now I just want to keep being with you.” I laugh. “And take a shower.”

Diavolo grins at me. “I don’t suppose you could be persuaded to allow me to join you?”

I gasp in mock surprise. “I would never deny my prince anything!”

He bites his lip. “Your prince, hm? I do like the sound of that.”

He growls and rolls over on top of me, pressing kisses all over my face, my neck, my chest. I attempt to retaliate and we wind up tangled in the blankets, giggling and breathless.

“Ok, but seriously. Shower time.” I smile at him and sit up. I swing my legs over the edge of my bed and wince a little.

Diavolo is instantly by my side, frowning with concern. “Are you ok? Did I hurt you?”

I brush away his concerns with a smile. “Just a little sore from last night. You are significantly.......larger than anyone else I’ve been with.”

He gives me a cocky smirk, then sweeps me up in his arms, bridal style. “Well since this is all my fault allow me to pamper you a little.”

He carries me into my bathroom, and sets me down on the sink. I wait for him to start the shower, to get the water temperature just right. He picks me up again and gently sets me under the warm stream of water before stepping in behind me. “Let me wash your hair.”

I wet my hair then obediently turn my back to him, sighing as his strong fingers work through my hair, gently pressing against my skull. He helps me rinse, then repeats the same process for my conditioner.

“Ok, your turn mister.” I pour some shampoo into my hand, while he wets his hair. We run into a problem when I go to lather his hair. “Ok, you’re going to have to bend down because I can’t reach you!”

He rolls his eyes at me with a smile and bends down so I can shampoo his hair. I take my time, gently scratching his scalp with my fingernails, enjoying the soft feel of his hair. We take turns soaping each other’s bodies, sneaking soft kisses and touches in between.

“Stay right here.” Diavolo gives me one last kiss before shutting off the water and stepping out of the shower. He quickly towels off, then wraps the towel around his waist. “Now come here.”

He holds out a towel and I step into his embrace. He softly towels me dry, wrapping me up tight when he’s done. He grabs an extra towel and my hair brush before picking me up again and carrying me back to my bed. He sits on the mattress, settling me firmly in his lap before softly drying my hair and gently brushing it free of tangles. We don’t speak, the silence comfortable and easy.

Diavolo hugs me from behind when he’s finished. “As much as I hate to say it, I do need to return to the castle.”

I slide off his lap. “Let’s get dressed then and I’ll walk you out.”

I pull on a pair of jeans and a white hoodie while Diavolo gets dressed in his clothes from the night before.

I start to walk to my door but he catches my elbow and pulls me to a stop. “Are you still sore?”

I shrug. “A little bit.”

Diavolo turns his back to me and bends down a little. “Climb on. No walking for you while I’m still here.”

I laugh as I put my arms over his shoulders and he reaches behind to grab my thighs, lifting me up and holding me effortlessly.

I kiss the top of his head, still laughing. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy about you,” he instantly replies laughing along with me. He walks out into the hallway, still laughing while I kiss the top of his head over and over and tickle his neck and his ears. We round the corner and bump into Asmo and Beel.

“Oh. Hey guys.” I give an awkward wave, looking down over Diavolo’s shoulder.

“Uh hi.” They reply in unison, matching expressions of surprise on their faces.

“Well. We’ll be going then.” Diavolo gives them a nod and brushes past, continuing our journey to the front door. The second we’re out of sight we both start laughing so hard he almost drops me. He sets me down gently when we reach the door.

“Are you sure you’re going to be ok here?” he asks, reaching out to hold my hand.

“I’ll be fine. There’s six other people to act as a buffer, and then after dinner I can go back to hiding in my room.” I smile at him, reaching up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss. It’s soft and lingering, neither one of us wanting to part. I eventually give his chest a small push. “Go on you, Barbatos is probably worried.”

Diavolo drops one last kiss on my cheek. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Later on that evening the seven brothers and I gather around the dinner table in complete silence. Belphie takes Mammon’s usual place beside me and Mammon sits at the end of the table, staring at his plate, scowling when our eyes happen to meet. The air is heavy with tension that even Asmo, chatterbox that he is, can’t break.

He eventually settles on me. “So Arianthi, what was Diavolo doing here? You guys looked like you were having fun.”

Lucifer shoots a look at me. “Diavolo was here? Why didn’t you come get me Arianthi?”

I busy myself pushing fried bat wing around on my plate, refusing to look at him.

“He wasn’t here to see you.” Mammon’s voice is icy and I’m afraid to look over at him.

Asmo realizes his mistake a moment too late and immediately begins copying me, studiously examining his plate. Lucifer is now frowning at me, displeased and confused.

Keep your eyes down and you will live through this. They can smell fear.

“Tell him human. Tell him why Diavolo was really here.” Mammon’s voice again, mocking now. I stubbornly refuse to raise my head. “He wasn’t here to see ya Lucifer, because he never left last night. Stayed with the human all night, ain’t that right?”

Lucifer sucks in a sharp breath. “Is this true? Were you sick again? Is that why he stayed? You could have fetched me, there was no need to trouble Lord Diavolo.” His voice is concerned, and I’m ready to crumble under the pressure and admit everything when Mammon lets out a low, cruel chuckle.

“She wasn’t sick. She was too busy fucking your precious Lord Diavolo’s brains out to be sick.”

I snap my head up and Mammon’s eyes meet mine, sparking blue fire, equal parts rage and pain.

Something inside me snaps and I slam my fork down on the table.

“Oh? We’re making it that kind of family dinner? Well that’s just fucking fine with me. Hey Mammon, those witches you have pacts with? How come you were still fucking them up until a few weeks ago?”

His face visibly pales. “How did you know about that?”

“I didn’t for sure until you confirmed it just now you hypocritical ass! But there were nights when you didn’t come home, marks that you didn’t have before......”

I notice none of the other brothers look surprised by this little revelation. I didn’t think it was possible, but the tiny pieces of my heart shatter a little more.

“You all knew didn’t you? You all knew and nobody told me.”

They all have the good grace to look ashamed before Mammon starts in. “It wasn’t their business to tell. Wasn’t any of your business either!”

My mouth falls open in shock. “None of my business? None of my GODDAMN BUSINESS? You’ve spent the past five months glued to my side, flirting with me, sleeping in my room almost every night. We’ve kissed Mammon! I care about you! I thought you cared about me. I deserved to know what was really happening.”

He slouches lower in his seat, glaring at me. “I didn’t owe you anything. You were probably fucking Diavolo behind my back the whole time too.”

There’s a collective gasp around the table and my vision goes red. “Does your asshole ever get jealous of the shit that comes out of your mouth Mammon? You know better than that. You KNOW me. You know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Mammon gives an incoherent growl and flings his dinner plate against the wall. “I thought I did. But ya really are just like every other human. Worthless.”

He pushes back from the table and in a few seconds we all hear the front door slam.

I rub my hands over my face, surprised when I pull them back and they’re wet. I’m crying and I didn’t even realize it. The remaining six brothers are staring at me with a mixture of pain and concern. My hands are shaking and my chest is tight.

When I finally speak my voice is low. “Was it funny? Seeing me fall in love with him while he was sleeping with them? Did you guys laugh about it when I wasn’t around?”

“Arianthi.....” Beel looks like he’s ready to cry along with me.

“It wasn’t like that, I swear it wasn’t,” Levi pleads with me.

“He really does care about you,” Asmo says. “We do too. We just couldn’t........there’s a lot you don’t know.” He trails off and bites his lip, eyes begging me to understand.

I huff out a low laugh. “No, I get it. You don’t owe me any loyalty. I’m just some worthless human.”

“Arianthi,” Lucifer begins.

I stand up and walk away from the table quickly, before breaking into a sprint, refusing to hear what he has to say. I throw open the door to my room, quickly shoving clothes into a bag.

I can’t stay here. I won’t stay here. Not with them.

Once the bag is full I zip it up and open my door. The brothers are all standing outside my room. I roughly shoulder past them and start for the front door.

“Arianthi? What are you doing?” Satan sounds alarmed.

“Where are you going?” Belphie asks, struggling to keep up with me.

“Anywhere but here.” I don’t slow my pace.

“Why are you taking a bag?” Levi is practically in tears.

“Because I’m not coming back.”

“What do you mean?” Asmo and Beel are in tears.

“Exactly what I said.” I open the front door and Lucifer’s hand closes in on mine, pulling me to a stop.

“Arianthi, you can’t go.” His voice is no-nonsense but soft, trying not to anger me further. “It’s dangerous for a human to wander around the Devildom after dark.”

Too late for concern motherfucker. I shake off his hand. “Don’t you dare touch me. Don’t you ever fucking try to touch me again. Any of you.”

“At least tell us where you’re going to stay,” Beel pleads.

“With Solomon.” I turn and slam the door behind me without looking back.

Despite saying I was going to stay with Solomon, my feet unconsciously make a path towards the Demon Lord’s castle. I stand outside, debating what to do when the door swings open, Barbatos standing in front of me.

Diavolo pops up behind him. “Arianthi? Did you walk here by yourself? It’s dangerous out..........” He trails off as he gets a closer look at me. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Diavolo,” my voice cracks as I try to fight back tears. “I need you.”

Wordlessly, he steps forward and wraps his arms around me, pressing my head against his chest. He hands off my bag to Barbatos as I break down and sob into his jacket.

I spend the next two months staying with Diavolo and avoiding the brothers. Anytime we run into each other at R.A.D I turn and walk away, Diavolo often accompanying me as a buffer. When Lucifer comes to the castle to discuss student council business, Diavolo lets me know ahead of time so I can shut myself in our room.

Evenings are spent going on dates or exploring the Devildom, then coming home to make love. Diavolo becomes my anchor and my protector, slowly patching together my broken pieces. We have an easy, playful relationship and our time together makes me genuinely happy.

I have yet to get the rest of my things from my room in the House of Lamentation, and Diavolo insists he can replace anything I’ve left behind. I refuse. I know he’s trying to be kind, but I want my things. One night while he’s in his study, deep in paperwork, I grab a bag and set out. It’s late enough that all the brothers will either be out or in their rooms, giving me a perfect chance to grab what I want out of my room.

In and out. There and back.

It takes me barely any time to get to the House of Lamentation, and I sigh in relief when I see most of the lights are dark. I cautiously crack open the front door and listen carefully. Once I’m sure there’s no one close by I ease inside and slowly make my way to my room. I see a light on in the kitchen and debate trying to sneak past.

More than likely it’s Beel. If I’m quiet he’ll never notice me.

I take a few seconds to hype myself up and then start to creep past the kitchen doorway.

I’m almost clear when I hear something rustle behind me. “Oi! Who the hell-!”

I spin around and see Mammon staring at me.

“Oh.....it’s you,” he sullenly says, looking me up and down.

Something tightens in my chest as I look at him. He’s wearing a pair of low slung pajama pants and holding a bottle of water, hair ruffled from sleep.

“I’m just here to get some of my stuff. Then I’m gone.” I hold up my empty bag in explanation.

Mammon snorts. “Go on then. Wouldn’t want ya to keep Diavolo waiting.”

I roll my eyes and turn away, not willing to engage in another verbal sparring match with him.

I hear him heave a sigh behind me. “Wait. Dammit Arianthi, wait!”

I stop walking but don’t turn around.

“We need to talk. Can ya stay a minute?”

I stand still, debating if I’m strong enough to deal with him right now.

“Please stay. For me?” His last request is barely a whisper but it breaks down the rest of my defenses.

I follow him into the kitchen and lean against one of the counters. Mammon stands in front of me, eyes firmly locked onto the floor. We stay in a silent stalemate for a minute before Mammon opens his mouth.

“I wanna apologize for the stuff I said the last time we were together. And for what I said at your birthday. I didn’t mean any of it. I was just so angry and hurt......and ya didn’t deserve any of that. I shouldn’t have said it. I can’t take it back so all I can do is apologize. You’re the last person I ever woulda wanted to hurt.”

I stare back at him in silence. My heart is ready to forgive him, telling me to throw my arms around him and promise to never leave him again.

My heart is a dumb bitch.

“Ok.”

When he realizes I’m not going to say anymore than that Mammon bites his lip, hesitating. “Can I ask ya something?”

I nod.

“When I saw ya that night, with Diavolo, was that...” His voice shakes. “Was that the first time?”

“Yeah. Yeah it was.” I pause. “Can I ask you something now?”

He nods slowly.

“Did you ever care about me? Or was everything we did just....... I don’t even know.” I throw my hands up in frustration.

Mammon’s head snaps up, blue eyes wide and full of tears. “Of course I did! You’re.......you’re special. I loved spending time with ya, and when ya kissed me I thought my damn heart was gonna stop.” He blushes furiously.

I bite into my lower lip, hard. “If that’s true-”

“It is!” Mammon interrupts me.

“If that’s true Mammon, then why were you still having sex with other people? If you cared about me so much then why not try to be WITH me? You know that’s what I wanted.” I choke, trying to fight back my tears.

Mammon looks down at the floor. “Ya wouldn’t understand,” he mumbles.

“What? What wouldn’t I understand? Tell me what I wouldn’t understand!” My voice gets higher and I’m shaking with anger. I don’t want to be mad at him, but I can’t help it.

“Ya really wanna know?” His voice is starting to match mine in volume.

“Because I had to forget about ya! I knew I was never gonna have ya! You were gonna haveta leave at the end of the program, and that’s not if ya didn’t figure out how much of a scumbag I was first. So I kept fucking those witches so I could keep my mind off of ya!”

He’s crying now. “Ya know why I finally stopped?”

I shake my head; I’m crying too, hurt and angry that he thought I would do that to him.

“Because I couldn’t keep pretending they were you! I couldn’t keep rutting inta someone thinking about ya and then being disappointed when I opened my eyes! I decided I was gonna take a chance, try to be with ya....really be with ya. But then I saw Diavolo lookin’ at ya that night, and I knew he wanted the same thing I did. And I knew if it came down to a scumbag like me or the literal prince of the Devildom you’d choose him. Ya woulda been stupid not to.”

He sighs and wipes at his tears. “And then the story with Solomon came out and ya did that stupid dare where ya kissed Levi and I just........I just lost it. And I just wanted to make ya hurt as bad as I was.”

His eyes meet mine, begging me to understand.

I understand exactly what he’s saying and my heart breaks for him all over again. “I never would have done that to you Mammon. If you had said you wanted to be with me......I wanted to be with you so, so much.”

Something like hope flickers in his eyes before it’s snuffed out by something darker. “Wanting me didn’t stop ya from fucking Diavolo that night though, did it?”

I’m frozen to the spot, feeling like I’ve been plunged into an icy bath, then anger flares up.

“Fuck you Mammon,” I hiss. “You hurt me. Maybe that doesn’t excuse what I did with Diavolo but you treated me like garbage. You broke my heart. He was there for me. So fuck you and your bullshit, because I’m over it. I fucking hate you.”

I spin away from him and move towards the doorway.

Something yanks me back hard by the arm, and slams me against the counter. The muscles in my back and my arm are screaming, and when I look up Mammon is in his demon form, wings spread, staring down at me. He keeps his grip tight on my arm and lowers his head until we’re eye to eye.

“Ya fucking hate me huh?” He growls, low and dangerous.

I stare back at him, refusing to answer.

He gives a deep chuckle. “Always so damn stubborn aren’t ya? Well, you’re gonna have to get over hating me because I fucking love you.”

I barely have time to register what he’s saying before he brings his mouth crashing down on mine.

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hanamuranobuyuki · 3 years

Text

About the Amanda, Jyushi, Jiro, Love, Life series

Today I thought I would try to give a little bit of insight to the ongoing series right now. It’s surprisingly been a couple of months since I began this journey, and with how much I have planned to write for this, it will probably take a few more until I’ve written all that I have planned out. With the sheer length of these works it does take a long time, so I might have forgotten about a loooot of stuff, but I’ll try to list off the things I remember quq. If you’re interested in reading some of these backstories, you can after the line break^^

For those interested in reading the series as it gets updated, you can read it here! I hope you enjoy this!

To be completely honest, I should have been done with this little excursion after writing Amanda’s Journey to Bringing Jyushi Happiness. I thought that this much was enough, and I was having low confidence issues as to whether or not things were likable, if they were in character (or somewhat at the very least...) and the list could go on forever.

But ideas kept popping into my head and what was supposed to be disjointed scenes out of everyday life for Jiro and Jyushi as they manage a long distance relationship after only being together for a day turned into Closing the Distance Between Us..... quite comical if you ask me considering the word count just got longer from there *cries into the distance*

But to tell you the truth, I’m happy I continued this journey despite the challenges. I feel like the way I’m progressing through this is giving it a more complete story that embodies the “circle of life and love” I imagine thanks to Amanda’s existence. This is also the reason why I named the series the Amanda, Jyushi, Jiro, Love, Life series. It’s a circle of connections, founded by Amanda, and it branches off into love for Jyushi and Jiro, which betters their life and/or changes it drastically from what it could have been. So with that kinda pushed out of the way, lemme tell you about some good old background info.

1. Amanda’s Journey to Bringing Jyushi Happiness is not my first Jiroshi fic

... it’s just the first one I’ve completed. After being immersed in the Hypmi fanfic archives and devouring the sweetness that is Jiroshi I started thinking about things I could write. The first one came in the form of Jyushi wearing red lipstick, which to this day I don’t know if I’m making it fluff or more explicit but I was hooked on the idea and... stopped writing 500 words into the work. The second one came in the form of An Outrageous Circumstance. I wasn’t surprised about Buster Bros making an appearance in my strange dreams, but after reflecting on it I realized I could use this and switch Jyushi with me in the dream plot. I fortunately did manage to finish writing that, so if you’d like to read that, you can here.

Amanda’s Journey to Bringing Jyushi Happiness was born from the concept that Amanda has more of an importance to Jyushi’s life than ever imagined. I wondered, what would happen if Amanda had a soul and supported Jyushi? And from there this was born. Initially I was content with leaving it as it was since I didn’t know just how much power I could give Amanda, but they grew on me so much okay? I practically love Amanda as much as I do Jyushi and Saburo. I can’t produce them tho aha... having Amanda as a support person is one of the best things I could write for Jyushi. And I hope people can enjoy this as much as I have.

2. The soulmates concept is mostly forgotten about 90% of the time for me.

Whenever I write more installments I forget that this is kind of a soulmates au, based on the fact that Amanda can see the fated linkage between Jyushi and Jiro. I always imagine this is kinda like a semi rewrite of canon world but at the same time it’s like it’s own little world quq. But whenever I have to stop and think about how much fluff I need to add and just sequential things like that... the soulmates concept come out. I guess I do have to thank myself for actually remembering about it every once in awhile XD

But I will mention that this fate concept will come out more in some of the newer installments. I have prewritten something a little more into the future that heavily talks about the fated pair deal. I hope you’ll look forward to it!

2.1. Why is Jiro the only one that has a fated string?

I wrote this specifically in Amanda’s point of view. If anyone had a fated string, Amanda would believe this person to be Jyushi’s fated partner, because their duty is to look over Jyushi and make sure he receives the happiness he deserves. Amanda cannot see the fated strings of anyone else in the world, because Jyushi is all Amanda truly cares about. Think of it as a special gift Amanda was gifted by the gods for their journey to giving Jyushi his happiness.

From here, I don’t know what else might be important, but I’ll list off some other things that might’ve been written in notes and other things like that.

3. Jyushi has “graduated” high school.

Jyushi’s school circumstances are kinda strange now that I think about it. THINKING ABOUT IT LOGICALLY, Jyushi should be a third year in high school at his age of 18 (or at least... I thought so lmao). Instead, I’ve given him a job and a life outside of school lol. So I’ll just say Jyushi got into school a little earlier than he should have thanks to his parent’s frequent travels abroad. He was raised by his grandmother most of the time, whenever his parents couldn’t stay in Japan. Around middle school, Jyushi transferred to a middle school that was closer to his grandmother’s residence, rather than feed into the middle school his elementary school was joined with, so then the commute from his grandmother’s residence wouldn’t be as problematic.

Amanda was born around this time, and they got to witness the extremely difficult times Jyushi faced. When Jyushi’s grandmother passes, Jyushi moves in with his aunt and uncle who lived in the next town over. Feeling bad about being a nuisance when they were planning on having a family, Jyushi finds a high school with a boarding plan so he doesn’t have to inconvenience them any more than he did. Along with these plans Jyushi also found part time jobs that were allowed in accordance to the school rules. This is where he finds his passion with making music, which is more than just listening to it and singing in general.

Jyushi was fortunate enough that he had his own dorm. Most of that reason came in the form of his “eccentric personality” which came out a lot whenever he was nervous. He had classmates who talked to him, but he didn’t really have friends. With that said and done, Jyushi quietly progressed through school and quietly graduated around his 18th birthday. He was already set with a job though, with the label he is currently under giving him a contract whilst in his third year of high school. The company officially advertises Argo Kishii Gakudan, and Jyushi becomes the lead singer who produces everything on his own. They gain popularity almost instantly thanks to the copious amount of lives they have done.

Technically, Argo Kishii Gakudan was already a couple years old however. They were made up of Jyushi’s upperclassmen that recognized his talent for music, Takeru, Jun, and Keisuke. You will see more of them in Side N. But because they were so small, and had to pay for all their bookings and everything on their own, going out to share their music, even when they were a hit in their frequent live houses, was nearly impossible. Thanks to the backing of their label, Argo Kishii Gakudan was able to perform around the country and do tours. The fateful one that brings Jiro and Jyushi together is their first one to Ikebukuro.

Jyushi in the current day doesn’t have many opportunities to see his mother and father. They’re successful in their own respective companies, and it shows in the way they send copious amounts of money to Jyushi whenever they can’t meet. Jyushi never has used it though, instead saving it and using only his own earnings from his contract and his previous part time jobs.

Sooo that’s my sorry attempt to document the reason why Jyushi doesn’t attend school lmao. And maybe a little insight on Argo Kishii Gakudan lol.

4. Room settings are soooo difficult to envision, especially whenever they’re different from whatever it is you’re looking at

When I started writing Side: I, and even before when I was writing the ending of Closing the Distance Between Us, I didn’t have the image of Jiro’s room to refer to. How I imagined his room was somewhat drastically different, and thanks to that, I ended up not really giving much of a description to those fics. As of today though, I wrote some hefty descriptions of Jyushi’s room because it’s building up on the imagery I had, in combination to Jyushi’s room in ARB.

You’ll get to read it in the next fic I post from this series. Hope you look forward to it!!

5. Music kinda defines a lot of my inspirations to adding to this series

I listen to music all the time while I’m writing. As a result, there are times I get sidetracked based on songs that come to the shuffle. When I wrote Amanda’s Journey to Bringing Jyushi Happiness and Closing the Distance Between Us, I shuffled a lot of the Hypmi music into my playlist, with a focus on Moonlight Shadow XD. But then I started writing Side: I, and then I came across a really inspirational song when I watched a Men’s Rhythmic Gymnastics routine. While I don’t really associate with the story this song was for, I love this song enough I played it on repeat for like. 80% of that fic entirely.

There’s a couple lines where Jiro thinks about how some romantic music would be playing in the background if it was a drama of some sorts, and this song was a tribute to the fact I was listening to one song... almost entirely. Please listen to it here.

For Side: I-02, another song was put on replay for a little while as well. I made mention of it in the upload post I did for that fic, but I’ll list it here as well.

I hope you’ll give these tracks a listen one day!

7. Some references kinda inside the fics.

I guess I’ll wrap up this mini list of nonsense by mentioning some things I’ve added into these fics based on inspiration from other things or just in random I guess.

Amanda’s Journey to Bringing Jyushi Happiness: I didn’t know how a love at first sight type of story with soulmates au would work out when I wrote it. I was inspired to write the arcade portion of the date because 1. I wanted to write a kiss segment. And 2. I thought arcade dates would be enjoyable XD.

Closing the Distance Between Us: I never expected this would be in sequential order, like I think I mentioned earlier. I intended on this being more like texting and messaging moments between the two while coping with their long distance relationship. Because of this... I... I don’t really know. I didn’t have an excuse to write this XD I just loved the two and my inspiration was the fuel that was this series? Ahahaha XD

You, Me, and Summer: Side I: a lot of romantic feels fueled this fic, among other things. I was inspired to write a whole lot on Jyushi’s hair routine bc of the tsunami season voice lines on ARB. When I did write this, I was also watching a sports anime called Bakuten. It is a Men’s rhythmic gymnastics anime, and it was what I mentioned when Jyushi watches the anime with Ichiro. The game that they all play is the Game of Life, more or less. I played a few games from the game boy edition just to get a grasp on the game ahaha. But the reason why I added this game was because the ARB event that ran me over with Jiro and Jyushi SSRs. They were event scout SSRs... and the fact that I was drowning in Jiroshi feels only to have MORE thanks to official content even if they weren’t in the same team just made me internally scream and dance all night long.

These two... destroyed my account in more ways than one. I’m now technically a Jiro and Jyushi stan rather than a Saburo and Jyushi stan bc Saburo or Ichiro on that matter never come home. But thanks to this I had to play enough to rank on two accounts. Thus... the one month delay.

Side I-02: because of this event, I decided that they should okay their own human sized Life game. I had to give tribute to the event that wrecked me aha. When I was writing this, I drew something on the side as well. . . And while I’m not sure I like it anymore, I thought I’d share it as well.

One hour of watching the sun rise and not being able to sleep led me to drawing this prototype on a whim. And because I’m a fan of drawing Jyushi’s wardrobe... I thought it would be fun ahaha XD I am a newbie still when it comes to digitally drawing but I am happy at how this turned out!

Finally, I will make mention of the haunted house. While hopping through logs on pixiv, I came across some log that showed how Jiro and Jyushi are scared of scary things, but Jyushi is like a sobbing mess and Jiro is just flat out scared. And later, I heard Jiro react negatively to a horror movie in ARB. When I heard this, I couldn’t resist the temptation! And since technically, Jiro and Jyushi don’t know more about each other than you would think, I thought it was a good opportunity to get them to know something else about them.

Sooo... I think that’s all I can think of right now! I hope you enjoyed learning about some of these small tidbits I could remember when I started working on this series. There’s a lot more to this you can look forward to, and I hope you look forward to it!

I will also apologize in advance for the sheer amount of mistakes there may be. I am my own beta, and I’m usually finishing these up at 5am like clockwork XD whenever I hit a slump in my writing, or miraculously reach the end of this series, I will make sure to clean them up I swear TTuTT thank you for understanding QuQ

If you have any questions, you can ask me here! I’ll try to get to them as quickly as possible. Thank you for taking the time to read this!

#hypnosis mic #aimono jyushi #yamada jiro #jiroshi #amanda-jyushi-jiro-love-life talks #behind the fic #please let me know if you wold like to learn more about any of these fics as I’m uploading them!#I do hope this is enjoyable for you to read!#Thank you for your support QuQ

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

Text

What makes me human [Cyberpunk! America x reader 10]

Wordcount: 5,809 Rating: T for strong language and mild violence “Can’t you see that none of this is real? You’re living in the past, dumbass! It’s all a dream! If you don’t wake up soon, you’ll regret it!” Chapter synopsis: Half-dead, Allen falls into a strange realm of existence. It's nothing he's seen before, but it feels awfully familiar. He soon learns he's stuck in the past, and it's all in his head. He'll do whatever it takes to wake up and save Alfred from his demise he once played a part in. The reader is referred to as she/her.

Songs to listen to while you read (in order as found in playlist): 2049, Ghost in the shell - Original mix, Something about us, Cloudy day, L, The voice in my head. I have indented song titles throughout the chapter so you can change accordingly. Starting now:

2049, Ghost in the Shell - Original mix

“His condition is stable. He’s in a coma, but he’s gonna be fine.”

“A coma? For how long?”

Where were the voices coming from? Was there one person or two people speaking? He couldn’t tell. But his interest quickly changed to another subject.

Am I dead?

With whatever brain activity he had left, that question was the only thing he heard repeating in his head like a broken record.

He couldn’t see anything, let alone feel anything as he drifted into an abyss of nothingness. In fact, it was so empty, he couldn’t even say it was darkness he was engulfed in. Just nothingness. Was this what people experienced before walking over to the other side? Or was he going to be stuck here forever? Allen couldn’t tell. Not when there was no concept of time in this strange realm of existence, anyway.

His eyes shot open. It took a few moments for his vision to adjust, but he came to realize he was sitting in his car. Huh. Was that all a dream? Whatever it was, it had escaped his mind so seamlessly, he couldn’t remember anything. Leaning forward to peer out the window, he was greeted with an onslaught of neon lights. Neon signs, holograms, and posters surrounded him from all angles and heights. At least that told him he wasn’t far from home. Turning to the front, he attached his hands to the wheel. Now, to get back.

If he drove around for a few minutes, he’d surely pinpoint his location relative to Arthur’s auto shop. Revving up the engine, he heard it purr to life. As a small grin stretched over his lips, he pulled out of the cul-de-sac to move to the main street. “I missed you too.” He murmured, never letting his gaze stray from the road. Eventually, he made it to a familiar intersection. Before he could pass through it, he stopped and found himself staring at what looked like a police chase coming to an end.

A helicopter hovered over a car stopped in the center. Over the fierce thumping of its blades, he heard a grungy voice barking out orders through a loudspeaker. He couldn’t make out what it was, but it didn’t look like they were followed. Not when the occupants in the vehicle were immediately shot upon stepping out–collapsing to the ground after a rain of machine gunfire blew them apart.

“Jesus Christ…” He mumbled under a frown. “Poor bastards.”

After they all dropped like flies, the helicopter took off in another direction. And just like that, they were gone.

The police in Twilight city were ruthless as always. Quick to action, and yet, just as dismissive. But it wasn’t his business. So long as he played his cards right, he wouldn’t have to deal with them. Making a right turn, he breathed out a sigh as he made a detour. He never liked using alleyways. There was no saying if he’d run into a couple of weirdos in places like these. Speaking of weirdos, there was a couple of men huddling around a corner. It piqued his curiosity to see them so interested in whatever it was they surrounded. Or more accurately put, who they surrounded. A girl. Slowing to a stop behind a tall bundle of crates, he leaned over to the right to get a better look. She was shaking in her boots, and her lips were trembling as she struggled to respond to the questions thrown at her. And how old was she anyway? 10? 11?

“That doesn’t look good.” Allen narrowed his eyes.

He climbed out of his car.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket, he approached the group slowly. But when one of the men took a hold of her shoulder, adrenaline surged through his veins and he burst into a sprint. When he got close enough, he grabbed said man’s shoulder before throwing his fist back. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Punching him square in the face, he sent him hurtling towards the ground.

Immediately, his cronies responded by pouncing on the newcomer for giving one of their buddies a black eye. After a few minutes of violent tousling, he managed to beat them all into submission.

Leaving them groaning and wincing in the dirt, he gave his hand a rough shake. Phew. He hadn’t had a good fight in ages. Giving his bottom lip a light tap to find a small blotch of red on his fingertip. And he won against three people too, escaping with only a busted lip. Before he could gloat about it, he glanced around to find the girl. Where did she go?

Assuming she ran away, he shrugged and moved back to his car. If she wasn’t here, then he wouldn’t be obliged to help her any more than that. But upon nearing his vehicle, he spotted a small pair of feet poking out from the back. Then, they proceeded to shuffle back to become completely concealed. Breathing out a chuckle at that, he rested his hands on his hips.

“I can see you.”

No response.

“You can come out now.” Making his way around the trunk, the child buried her face into her knees upon realizing she had been discovered. A light frown downturned his features at the sight of her shaking like a leaf. “Man, am I that scary?” He murmured, lowering himself to his knees. “Hey, kid. I’m not gonna hurt ya. I was just passing by. I promise I won’t do anything.”

She kept her face hidden, but her trembling seemed to calm.

“Well, if you’re not gonna say anything, I’ll be on my way. Just make sure to move out of the way so I don’t run you over.” Standing up on his feet, he turned his back to her. Before his fingers could do so little as graze over the car handles, a faint voice piped up.

“Wait!”

Allen grinned and spun on his heel. “Yes?”

She stood up slowly, but kept her head low to avoid his gaze. Without removing her hands from her pants, which she was clenching at, she opened her mouth again. “Could you maybe… Tell me where the train station is? I got kinda lost.” The way she spoke was soft, breathless even, and more so than Allen’s who just beat up a bunch of no-good-doers.

“The train station?” The redhead questioned. Not that he didn’t know where it was. In fact, it was only a few blocks down, but he had to think twice about sending a ten-year-old off to wander the streets around here. The same streets a police shootout just took place, and the same streets where she was approached by a couple of hooligans. “How about I drop you off? I’m not in a hurry. I dunno if you wanna walk around by yourself after what happened.”

He said it before, and he’d say it again. This city was an absolute shithole.

“R-really? But I’m not sure…” The enthusiasm faded as quickly as she lit up. “I don’t know you.”

“And I don’t know you either.” Allen hummed. “So you’re just as dangerous to me as I am to you. Sound fair?”

The girl furrowed her brows.

“That doesn’t make sense. You’re way older than me.”

“Oh yeah? I’m only eighteen though. Lemme guess, ten? Twelve?”

“Thirteen.” She answered, relaxing just a touch at the sound of his age. At first glance, one would have assumed he was in his early twenties, but she was relieved to know she was wrong. “Are you still in high school?”

The man blinked. Was she warming up already? “Nope. I finished nearly a year ago. But that doesn’t mean I sit around all day with nothing to do.” He opened the car door to the driver’s seat. “You’re lucky I was out and about to get your ass out of trouble. So what do you say we keep it that way?”

The ride there didn’t take long, much to Allen’s surprise. By the time his GPS revealed that they had arrived, he had slowed down near the curb in front of one of the tallest skyscrapers in Twilight city. Sliding the window down, he poked his head out to give his surroundings a gander. The blinding lights of the liveliest commercial center forced him to squint, but he could still tell this was the city center. And that only meant the residential lots were a little further down.

“You sure this is the right address? There’s nothing but malls and stuff around here.” He shouted over the bustle of people crossing the streets and pounding of music.

“No, this it the right place. I live right there in that building!” Climbing over to the side, she pointed at Matsumoto Optics.

Exchanging glances with the said building, then the girl, he gave his head a light shake. “What do you mean, you live right there? Nobody–” He paused, feeling dread settle in his stomach. “Wait a sec. What was your name again, kid?”

“(F/N) Matsumoto. My dad actually owns the whole plaza.”

He paled.

“Holy shit.”

Why did it feel like a gun was pointing at him?

Because there was one.

Whipping his head to the window next to him, he found himself staring straight down the barrel of a gun. While his heart broke out into a pounding frenzy, he came to notice that his whole car was surrounded by men in suits. Bringing out every kind of shootable weapon that existed, his blood ran cold at the sound of more than twenty firearms cocking at once. From every angle there was, he was aimed at by something. “Fuck.”

“Put your hands where I can see them!” One of the men demanded.

Allen threw his arms up. “Alright, alright!”

Glass shattered. A hand shot through the broken window and hit him in the back of the neck, hard. “Gh-!” It knocked him out immediately. Then, his unconscious body was dragged out of the car with next to no grace.

So much for following orders.

When he finally came to, all he knew was the throbbing pain in his neck, and the rope burns around his arms and wrists. Since they were tightly bound together, he could only blink away the fuzz in his vision. This day had to be the longest yet. All he remembered was waking up in his car completely disoriented, then saving a middle-schooler from a bunch of creeps. Where was this place? An office of some sort? How did he wind up here again? All he could do was speculate as he continued to kneel on the carpeted ground.

“My daughter told me you saved her from a group of ruffians.” A low voice began, forcing him to look up. My daughter? Did that mean he was Matsumoto? The Takahiro Matsumoto? The most powerful person on the planet? The person whose name he heard every minute of the day from slogans? His suspicions were confirmed when he found himself gawking at a beast of a man, who stood a little over six feet with a long gray beard.

Wait a minute, this guy was old? And this… Built? “If she hadn’t, you wouldn’t have woken up.”

Allen tensed.

“… Right. Well, I’m sorry for whatever I did. I didn’t know she was… A Matsumoto.” He breathed. “If I did, I would’ve let her ride the train herself. Didn’t think putting her in my car warranted a death sentence.”

“But you are alive, boy. And she is too, thanks to you.” The older man graciously responded, giving his head a firm pat. Then, he lowered his gaze to meet the other’s eyes. “I see an unwavering sense of justice from you. There were three men you had to fend off to keep her safe, and you only managed to let them hit you once.”

“…”

“You have talent.”

“… Thanks.”

“If you haven’t noticed already, I want to recruit you.”

The redhead had to do a double-take. Were his ears playing tricks on him, or did he actually say–

“You wanna… Hire me?”

Matsumoto nodded. “Like I just said. You have the skills to be a bodyguard, and we are in urgent need of one.” An ominous light glinted in his dark eyes as he opened his mouth again. “Did you ever wonder why there was a job opening?”

Allen gave a nervous laugh. On second thoughts, maybe laying low in Arthur’s auto shop was the better option. “Thanks, but no thanks. I was just lucky today, and I’m not a pro. I think you’re better off hiring somebody else–”

The other hardened his stare at him. “We have an elaborate training program to prepare you for your duties. I see no reason for you to reject.” With a swift flick of his wrist, he beckoned over a few men who had been standing on the sidelines. “These gentlemen weren’t half as good as you when they began. Now, they are the best any secret service has to offer. Their combat skills are impeccable, and their instincts refined to perfection.”

When he sensed he had fallen right into a trap, he wasn’t wrong.

“I wouldn’t imagine it to be hard for them to locate anybody residing in this city. Even your friend, Arthur, the British mechanic.”

Seeing that Allen was now at loss for words, he smiled.

“I believe it would be in your best interest to work for me, Jekyll.”

That same day he was recruited, his induction took place. And boy, was it a lot. By the time they had finished, night had fallen. Fortunately, he could treat himself to a hot dinner in the dining court before retiring to his room. He couldn’t say being given his own condo was unexpected, but when he stepped inside to become completely immersed in luxury, he was faced with a rude awakening. Up here where the air stretched thin over the blinking lights of Twilight city, he was reminded how out of place he was.

All his life, he was at the bottom. He grew up a street rat before he was taken in by a kind mechanic. And he taught him everything he knew. Never did he imagine he would ever be this high up in the clouds, working in a high-ranking position under a man comparable to God. And the longer he lingered on this reality, thrusted to him without his say, the hotter his eyes felt. There was no saying if he could go home again.

And that meant he wouldn’t be seeing Arthur anytime soon.

The next morning, he woke up the groggiest he’d ever felt in his life. Squinting at the window that happened to take up his whole wall, he was graced with a hot orange sunrise. It cast a pinkish haze over everything in his sight like a filter, but he was far too exhausted to appreciate the scenery. He checked his phone. 6:23 AM. Twenty missed calls and twelve text messages. Crap. He’d call him later. He needed to figure himself out first.

Giving his face a cold splash of water, he rubbed his eyes clean. Lifting his head to the mirror, he found himself staring at his reflection, which of course, stared right back. Did he always look this young? He snorted. What was he thinking? Of course he did. He was only eighteen, after all. Sliding himself in a dress shirt and pants, he finished off the look by throwing on a black blazer. Then, he gave his appearance a hard stare. “… Nope. This looks stupid.” Leaving the bathroom in a white tank and bomber jacket, he ventured out into empty morning halls to find the elevator.

Once he made it to the third floor, he began his journey to the training dojo. The walls were a beige white, the floors a polished wood, and there were shoji screens everywhere. He was washed over with a strange sense of déjà vu. But considering this was his first time here, that couldn’t be the right phrase. Jamais vu was more like it. He was here with the impression he’d never been before, but he somehow knew that was a lie.

And it was a gut feeling so strong, it was kind of eerie.

He couldn’t understand why he was feeling this way. And not being the thinking type, he chose to brush it off. He had enough to worry about already, so the last thing he wanted was to overthink a foreign environment. Maybe some exercise could clear his head— and that was exactly what he’d be doing today. His rigorous training program.

Entering a spacious room, he stepped inside to feel his shoes sink into soft tatami mats.

“Don’t even think about taking another step in here with those shoes on, Jekyll.”

A very rigorous training program.

***

Something about us, L

It had only been a few days since arriving here at Arthur’s, but you were slowly regaining your strength. With every new morning, you awakened with more energy than the last. Perhaps the small light of hope of seeing Allen do the same was what urged you to become an early riser. But like yesterday, and the day before, that hope was shattered at the sight of him unconscious in bed. He didn’t even move an inch.

Nearing his side, you lowered yourself to your knees and reached out to his cheek. Talking to him while he slept had become routine to you. You’d tell him about your day, everything you did, and all your conversations you ever had. If not, you’d reminisce the past so he wouldn’t feel left out. He never interrupted, and let you run off on tangents until you were sick of talking. “I really hope you wake up soon, Allen. I feel like… I’m talking to myself here.” Your voice was soft with a heart-wrenching kind of sadness, but you refused to linger on it.

After all, how could you expect him to wake so soon? You knew how strong he was, but it would be selfish to want something impossible. So you forced yourself to leave the room, figuring you would feel better if you focused on something else. Little did you know, someone had been lurking in the halls during your visit.

Alfred had his back pressed up to the wall outside while you dropped by, and he heard everything. And not even from just this morning. Everything you ever told Allen, he listened in on too.

He knew better than to infringe on your privacy, and hear things that were better off left unheard. But he kept finding himself hiding outside in the hall, doing it again and again—even Arthur had caught wind of it.

He heard footsteps clunking against the metal floor, but he never bothered to turn to it. Usually, Arthur would’ve kept on walking. But not today he didn’t. “If you like her so much, you should just tell her.” He’d murmur.

Alfred whipped his head to him with his eyes widened ever so slightly. But he visibly eased seeing it was just him. And rather than denying his claims, he tore his gaze away. “I can’t.” His brows were furrowed for creases to form between them. Arthur was almost taken aback, having never seen him so frustrated.

“Why not?” The Brit responded, resting his back against the wall beside the man. “It’s painful seeing you loiter out here all day. I’d say I felt sorry for you, but you’ve been eavesdropping on her for a while.” At the sound of that, the other’s cheeks flushed red. So his guess was right on the mark, after all. “She’s coming out right now. Might wanna make a run for it while you still can.”

“Guys?” Another voice joined, forcing the two men to spin around.

The mechanic bit back a snort. “Too late. I’ll be in the garage.” He whispered. Shooting you a brief smile, he turned on his heels to leave. “You two have fun now. I have lots of work to do today.” With that said, he disappeared to do exactly that, but not without a few chuckles under his breath. For the many years he knew the guy, he never found anything he wasn’t good at. There was nothing he couldn’t do. Looking over his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of Alfred with a hand on his neck, laughing nervously.

That perfect track record was finally ending, it seemed.

At least he wouldn’t have to watch him fumble around with his feelings for long. You and Alfred were planning to leave in a few days to God knows where, to do God knows what. Frankly speaking, he didn’t know what you were doing, hanging around such a shady guy like him. That was right. You two arrived with your bodyguard Allen, who was half-dead then, and barely clinging to life now. What the hell happened? Wouldn’t your father be concerned?

Maybe he’d ask Allen himself, if he’d awaken anytime soon, that was. For now, he’d stay on the sidelines and help Alfred repair his missing Mantis blades as he’d requested. He was restless without them, frequently interrupting his work with, “Are you done yet?” until he finished for the day. Arthur narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue, shutting the garage door behind him. Whatever you two had planned, he couldn’t imagine it to be legal.

***

Cloudy day

A few months had gone by, and he was finally getting settled in his new workplace. But there was no saying when he’d ever be forgiven for it. Not that he could even explain himself. What was he even supposed to say? I saved a girl from a bunch of creeps and put her in my car to take her home but she wasn’t just any girl and turned out to be the daughter of Matsumoto himself and now I’m being threatened to work for them because they know where you live. That surely wouldn’t fly. Especially when he went through all that just to be a glorified babysitter.

He just knew Arthur was buried up to the neck with work, now that he was alone. Breathing out a sigh at the thought, he rolled his head to the said girl sitting by a cherry wood coffee table, whose nose was buried in a book.

“You ever get bored reading stuff all day?” He began, stretching his arms across the backrest of the couch.

She shrugged. “Sometimes. But I have to study, otherwise I’ll fall behind.”

Allen nodded, stretching his lips into a flat line. “Fair enough. Well, I did just graduate high school, so if you need any help with… Math or whatever, just let me know.” Surely, seventh-grade level wouldn’t be too difficult for him.

“Mm… Thanks, but I don’t think you can help me with what I’m doing. This is like… College level stuff.” You gave him a sheepish smile, to where he gawked at you in response.

“Wow, you a genius or something?”

“I don’t think I am.”

“You’re just being humble, kid. It’s fine to be proud of yourself, ya know. ‘Specially now, cuz it gets kinda annoying when adults do it.” Allen grinned, hopping up from his spot to give her hair a ruffle. She could only hang her head to hide the embarrassed pout on her lips. Fortunately, their height difference let her do so.

“Thanks, I guess…” It was only when he pulled his hand away did she look up again. In her line of vision was a chest of drawers, and she reached out to point towards it. “Also, could you mind checking if my USB’s in there? I think I left it in one of the drawers yesterday.”

The redhead spun around. “Sure, no prob.”

Pulling out one of the compartments, he rummaged around random bits and bobs until he caught sight of said USB. Besides the connecter, the storage disk was fairly long and flat. This thing could’ve stored hundreds of terabytes of data if it could. That translated to hundreds of computers’ worth of information. Picking it up, he held it in his fingers to give it a brief study. Before he called over to you with his lips separated ajar, he found himself entranced by it.

But what was so interesting about something as common as a storage disk? For some reason, the small object in his hand resonated with him. It was… So familiar. As if he’d seen something like this before. Or perhaps, it reminded him of something he forgot about. Problem was, he didn’t know what. And it was a gut feeling so strong, he couldn’t seem to shake it off.

The voice in my head

That night, he was called to his superior’s office for a security briefing. Appearing through the tall double door, he walked in with his hands in his pockets. Situated deep in the room, and just by the window overlooking the blinking lights of the city, was his desk, and the man Matsumoto himself. His chair spun around to reveal a bearded man well into his seventies with a light scowl on his face. “I expect you to wear the uniform suitable for these occasions, Jekyll.”

Allen blinked before rubbing his neck. “Right, sorry. Forgot.” In all honesty, he considered showing up in a black tie and all, but it wasn’t the most comfortable fit in the world. “So, what’dya call me in for?”

The other clasped his hands together and gave him a firm stare. “Even in my company, you have moments of… Stepping out of line. Breaches of discipline.” He gestured to his attire, letting it do the speaking. “I may overlook some inconsistencies in exchange for your services, but there is one rule you must not break under any circumstances.”

Silence fell in the room so you could hear a pin drop. It gave Allen some room to think–to guess what his superior was going to warn him about. A secret basement that locked up human guinea pigs he wasn’t supposed to stumble into, perhaps? But that was ridiculous. So he stayed quiet, prepared to listen intently to the man. Surely, his guess was far from reality.

“There is a… Basement a few floors beneath the lobby.”

Allen froze. He’d heard this before.

Otherwise, how else could he guess that he’d say this?

“I keep my most prized possessions in there. Personal vehicles and upgrades. Nothing goes in and out undetected. So don’t even think about stepping inside.” He couldn’t believe a word he said, as calm and convincing his tone was.

Allen had an idea why.

He sensed something was off the minute he came here. It was all so obvious–the familiarity of the dojo halls, the USB, and even his face in the mirror. He’d seen it all before. Previously, he’d brushed it all off. But he couldn’t deny it any longer now that he had this conversation, a conversation he already had. So if his intuition was right, that meant he could guess what was actually in the basement. And there were no fancy sports cars to speak of.

He gritted his teeth as his tanned complexion began to pale. Then, his stomach began to churn.

“… Are you unwell?”

He lifted his head and shook it. “Nah. Just lost in thought.”

“You may lose yourself in the emptiness in your head as much as you desire, but not in my presence. If you don’t have any questions, you are dismissed.”

“Yessir.”

Turning on the spot to leave, a deep frown downturned his features now that he wasn’t facing him anymore. Something was terribly wrong. And he was about to confirm it. A couple of hours later when the whole building fell quiet, he snuck down to the basement floor through the elevator. And while he ran through the pitch-black halls to the door in the end, he couldn’t get this thought out of his mind. He’d definitely done this before, too.

Swinging the door open, he was greeted with a familiar stench of death. But he didn’t have time to gag. Running to the two pods, he never bothered turning on his night vision. He trusted his body and his muscle memories to guide the way. And it was the right call, because he found himself standing by the pods in no time. Lifting up one of the hatches to find a mummified corpse, he stared with an unreadable expression.

He wasn’t even surprised. And that was really telling, considering he would’ve vomited at the sight. But this only solidified his suspicions. This wasn’t new.

Nothing was.

Turning to the other pod, he fiddled around the latches for a minute or so before giving in. This one couldn’t be opened, not without proper authorization. Okay, this was new. He didn’t remember this pod being locked. So he jabbed his fingers into a couple of buttons, unable to resist his curiosity. He couldn’t leave any stones unturned. Thankfully, his rapid button smashing eventually did do something to reveal what was inside.

The glass that was previously fogged up cleared.

Inside lay a man. A blonde. His skin was flawless in save for the outlines of removable plates. He was a cybernetically enhanced individual, but not one he wasn’t already acquainted with.

“We put him to sleep for fifty years…”

“By the time he gained his consciousness, we turned him into a killing machine.”

“Even to this day, he remains my greatest creation.“

Fragments of his memory began to play in his head. All until he could remember the name of the sleeping figure. It was Alfred. And he had yet to wake up to go on a killing rampage, or in other words, the first time they’d ever meet.

Allen eventually retreated back to his condo. The first thing he did was go to the bathroom and splash cold water to his face. If he wanted to figure out what the hell was going on, he needed to clear his convoluted mind first. Either he was a psychic or stuck in another reality. But he wasn’t bright enough to be a psychic. And interdimensional travel wasn’t invented. Yet. So what could it be?

While he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his wet fingers, his train of thought was interrupted by a voice. And it sounded just like his, but deeper.

Glancing up to the source, he found himself staring at his own reflection in his mirror. But he came to realize it wasn’t him–rather, it was an older version of him. They had the same face, eye color, and hair, but the person who glared back at him had sharper features, and a more defined jawline. Unbeknownst to him, it was the subconscious of his present self.

“What the hell are you doing?” He hissed.

Slamming his hands against the mirror, the loud bang caused Allen to jump. “Can’t you see that none of this is real? You’re living in the past, dumbass! It’s all a dream! If you don’t wake up soon, you’ll regret it!”

Allen dug his hands through his hair, and before he could even question him, panic overwhelmed his system. Not that he needed to, because everything he was just told made perfect sense. “W-Wake up? But… But how?”

“What do you think genius? You have to die!” The other screamed. “If you don’t wake up soon, Alfred and (F/N) are gonna get away with the chip! You can’t let him put it in his head! The Soulkiller will destroy him!”

Fuck.

He felt himself tense up in all reality as more memories flowed back to him. That was right. He was in a coma after being stabbed by a katana. He remembered how desperate he was as he fought to stay awake, all so he could warn Alfred he was falling into a trap. But he failed, and wound up in another realm of reality. His dreams. And if he didn’t wake up soon, there was going to be hell to pay.

Shoving his hand into his jacket, he pulled out a gun.

Then, he exchanged wary glances with his subconscious, who nodded at him.

He cocked it. “If you’re wrong… And I die in real life…” It wasn’t like he had anything to threaten him with, though. “Let’s hope I don’t.” Sliding the gun into his mouth, he screwed his eyes shut. Then, he pulled the trigger.

Shooting up with a loud gasp, he finally awakened from the longest trauma-induced sleep he’d ever had. Almost immediately, he heard somebody else let out a scream of genuine fear. “Ah–!” By the foot of the bed he was laying in was Arthur, and he’d fallen right out of his chair. “Jesus fucking Christ! If I’d known you’d wake up like that, I would’ve sat further away!”

Standing back onto his feet, he was never fast enough to stop Allen from sliding himself off the bed. “Hey– watch it! You can’t move right away!”

“How did I get here?”

Arthur stepped back as his friend loomed over him. “Well–I’m not sure how you fell into a coma, but it was Alfred and (F/N) who brought you in.”

Thank god. “And where are they now?”

The other shrugged with a look of defeat. “I don’t know, honestly. All I know is they’re doing something dangerous. Alfred wouldn’t leave before I helped him install a new set of mantis blades.”

“Fuck!” He hissed, feeling his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. Bile was even rising in his throat as he reflected on the possibility that Alfred was already dead. “I was too late. I was too fucking late.” Shaking his head as heat accumulated behind his eyes, he paused for a moment, letting hot tears of frustration run down his face. Then, he gripped Arthur’s shoulders when he was hit with an epiphany. With the slim chance they only left recently, he still had time.

“How long have they been gone for?”

The blonde pondered for a moment, but the concern in his eyes never faded. “Only a week, give or take. Why? What’s wrong?”

Before Allen could breathe out a sigh of relief, he was gripped with a panic-inducing sense of urgency. “That means I can still save him!” If he remembered correctly, the Soulkiller virus needed at least two weeks before the damage became permanent. So if he could somehow find you both in seven days, he could save Alfred. “No questions. I’ll explain in the car! We have to find them as soon as possible!”

He would’ve been dead if it weren’t for him.

So in return for saving his life, he’d do anything to save his too.

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vanchlo · 4 years

Text

The Assistant / Chapter Forty-Eight, “I’m Home”

*Not my gifs*

Clickable Links:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

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- Read on Wattpad

Word Count: 7.6k words

Warnings: None

Music Inspo: Forever Like That by Ben Rector (click to listen)

SNEAKYYYYYY PEEK

His eyes find mine first and I can’t tell if the sage green is blurring because my eyes deceive me, or that his betray him. Within seconds, it seems that both of our eyes have made a mess of themselves with tears, his shed onto my hand when he brings it to his lips with a kiss. I’m certain that he could taste mine when I steal a kiss from his lips, and those that water his neck with them, sure to not smudge the sentiment that waits to become permanent above his heart.

“Harry Styles,” I giggle nervously with hot cheeks, shaking my head as I stare at the floor, our intertwined hands blocking my view ever so wonderfully.

“My Rebecca Ann.”

Lifting them, my eyes find him like they always so easily do, and so do the divots that fall into his cheeks. The three words that I feel like repeating over and over to him fall again from his lips in a hushed whisper.

I love him more than I did just a second ago. Again.

"When I’m with her, I feel happy to be alive. Like I can do anything, even talk to you like this. So, that’s what I think love is. When I’m better because she’s here.” - Boy Meets World

“Reckon ‘ve neva seen a sight mo’ beautiful in me entire life.”

“Sounds like you haven’t lived long enough then.”

“‘m serious, Becks, yer absolutely gorgeous,” I exhale all in one breath, and with so many others wanting to spill out and join. “Yer everythin’, bug.”

“Oh, hush.”

“Or else, what, Becks? You’ll make me be quiet? Hmm, ‘d like t’ see you try that one, babe,” I tease, letting my nose drag along her cheek and my laugh float over to her ears. “Reckon yer takin’ too long. ‘m an impatient bloke, y’know.”

It’s a tragedy to silence her lips budding with a bubbly laugh, but my, do they taste magnificent. Her smile does as well, and so does the song that ignites from my fingers as they run down her arms free of wires and tubes, albeit an annoying cast.

“Meant it, y’know, that yer so beautiful,” I whisper against her mouth, lifting my head to punctuate my words with a kiss on top of her head. “You look good and seems like you feel that way, too.”

“Mmmhmm,” she murmurs from below me, the corners of her rose colored lips curling into her cheeks.

The pink has begun to return to them and so has her dimple indefinitely. It doesn’t compare to the fluttering inside of my chest at the sight of her ocean eyes peering up at me, the flecks of gold glimmering in the light. Admiring her seems to grow better as if climbing a mountain, because next, I get to enjoy the familiarity replaced with her wavy hair pooled over her shoulders.

“I’m ready,” she exhales nervously, and the baby freckles dotting her cheeks blur in front of me. “Harry, don’t cry, or else you know that I will too.”

“‘m sorry, ‘m jus’ so bloody happy,” I laugh, finding it hard to stop my lips from quivering as I look at her - the familiarity of the jeans and hoodie hugging her body, the new purple Vans bright on her feet, and the flicks of mascara she insisted on wearing even though she doesn’t need it. “‘m so unbelievably happy that I get t’ bring ya home, bug. Finally.”

“Me too,” she croaks, a glistening tear falling into the divot of her dimple before collecting at her chin. They disappear from my view, both luckily and not, when she pulls me into her arms. I can’t complain about it, though. “Thank you. I could never say it enough for everything, Harry, you-.”

“Yer welcome, Becks, forever and ever. No need t’ thank me, I know ya woulda done tha same fer me.”

“I would have,” she whispers against my neck. I nod into her hair that my nose is smothered by in the best possible way, and it makes me wonder if you can overdose on the smell of orange blossoms and vanilla. It seems a happy drunkenness may come from smelling it, afterall.

It’s a feat in and of itself to leave her arms, but it shrinks in comparison to the relief I feel at wiping her tears away, unsure of the last time I felt happy to do this, or this happy at all.

“Shall we get goin’ then, love?” I ask her, thumbing at the imperfection in her cheek that could never be anything short of perfection to me.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Becks nods. “But, one thing first.”

“What’s that? I didn’t think ya wanted t’ spend anotha second in this place.”

“I don’t, but one last kiss is okay,” she smirks and quickly, I’m tasting the absence of melancholy and pain in her kisses. I know that they still sit there, somewhere near, but I choose to ignore them at this moment and to pretend that I can kiss her sadness away. “Okay, now, we can leave.”

“I know ‘ve been waitin’ too long t’ do so . . look at you being a superhero and e’rythin’, bustin’ outta here within a week . . Let’s bring you home already, bug.”

It’s rather hard to get used to - not one, but two things. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to how beautiful she is and I thought she was a sight when we left the hospital, but damn, was I wrong. She keeps doing that, proving me wrong, always has. I like it more now than I did in the beginning. Now, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets in her bed, it really is by far the best sight.

My glowing smile sputters and almost goes out completely when I sigh with a hand in my hair. I just had gotten used to the idea of her being in a hospital and trusting the nurses, and now here I am, her nurse. I liked the thought at first, but now that it’s happened and I’m here, it scares the daylights out of me.

What if I do something wrong?

What if I, of all people, hurt her - elbow her in the stomach in the middle of the night, mess up her bandaging when I rewrap it, or worst of all, mess up her meds?

It all frightens me when I know fully well that I should be the happiest person on earth right now to have her home. But after she got over her bout of sickness, I kept waiting for something else to happen, and I’m still sitting on the edge of that seat, waiting. I never saw the accident coming, but I want to expect the next one, as if I could ever stop something like that from happening. Pffft, I’m no superhero. I don’t know who I think I am, but I know that I want to be everything she needs, and yet, deep down I never could be.

“Harry?”

“Ya, bug? You alright?” I murmur, my hand falling to my side. “Ya need anythin’?”

“Eh, just for you to watch some FRIENDS with me,” she mumbles, cocking her body to look at me over her shoulder. The eagerness taut in her features melts away, and I straighten up, hoping that I didn’t blow my own cover.

“Alright, Harry?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine, Becks. Jus’ thinkin’ ‘m gonna hafta readjus’ me rules fer fallin’ asleep in the middle o’ watchin’ sumthin’ as we might both break that rule,” I quip, leaving my watch in the doorway to join her under the covers.

Worrying away at my bottom lip, I fail to ignore how that lie went over about as well as if she would’ve told it to me. I could be a good liar, but never to her, and the thought itself cements my insides with guilt.

Her laugh fills the dark with some light inside of me, and her famous toasty body nuzzles against mine.

“You’re sure?” Becks wonders aloud, and meeting her questioning gaze is overdue as I stare off into space.

“‘Bout what?” I reply, a V belatedly forming between my brows in wonder.

“If you’re alright. I’m sorry, but I don’t think that I believe you.”

“Oh, that,” I exhale with an ironic laugh that couldn’t be anything but sad. “Ya, I dunno if I believe meself eitha,” I answer at last, feeling much too sour to keep secrets from her that sprout into lies.

No, if I’ve learnt anything recently, it’s that life can flip you on your ass in a moment. I could lose her in a blink, and I very well almost did. The very last night that I want to be thinking is, ‘why did I tell her that silly little lie when I could’ve just grown a pair and told her the truth?’

“Harry, what’s the matter?” she speaks up, lulling the monsters away with her fingers scratching my beard. “I think you need a nap, you’ll feel better after some sleep, and in a bed.”

“No- I mean, ya. Yer right, but that’s not it.”

“What is it then? You can talk to me, love,” she says, and the sentiment weeds into my thoughts and greets my heart.

“I jus’ . . I wanna be enough fer you, Becks, and I dunno if I can,” I confess gently, avoiding her intimidating gaze and instead, entranced by her twirling that braided ring.

“Harry, where’s this coming from? Why do you feel that way?” Becks sighs sadly, and within moments, I wish that I’d never said a thing.

“Nevamind, ‘s jus’ tha sleep deprivation talkin.’ Ignore, silly ol’ me.”

“No, I won’t ignore what you said, because it’s not true,” she replies firmly. The prickly wrapping of her arm cast rubs at my jaw when she turns my head to look at her. “I can’t force you to talk, and I don’t want to make you do anything, but . . I’m here, Harry. You’ve said that loads when I’m afraid or losing my shit . . and I dunno, it grounds me.”

“Thanks,” I smile slowly, feeling the words warm up on my tongue. “I want mo’ than anythin’ t’ take care o’ you and ‘m over tha moon happy yer home, but . . ‘m afraid I won’t do a well enough job, or that ‘ll mess it up.”

“You won’t, Harry,” she assures me, leaving circles drawn onto my cheek that may be invisible to everybody else, but me.

“How d’ya know?”

“Because you’ve shown me how good you can take care of me, especially this week, and the whole two and a half years I’ve known you, Harry Styles,” she insists, leading my eyes back to hers. “I know you’ve told me it a hundred times, but I think it’s time you heard it too - everything is going to be okay. I’m okay, and you’re going to be okay.”

I nod quickly, swallowing against a dry throat and feeling the slick swiping of her finger catch the tears. They don’t just stop there and proceed to drown her fingers, and then the fabric of her shirt when she drags me over to her and against her front.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she hums softly, zings of electricity left at the sight of her fingertips beside my spine. “This is the real scary part, huh? To come home and to act like everything is okay, and to return to real life . . I feel it too, it’s kind of suffocating . . but I know that we’ll get through this, taking care of each other. I’m not going anywhere, love.”

“Thank you . . fer stayin . . fer bein’ here.’”

“Always, Harry.”

“Always,” I murmur, gently breaking through the tangles found in his hair, falling like ribbons between my fingers. Licks of the vanilla and something musky waft from his hair when I press a kiss to the crown of his head.

I let my heavy sigh fall into his curls as my cheek molds to his skull, a hummed song escaping my lips. It sings itself while I drag my fingers through his hair until there are no more snarls or tangles to be found, and my fingers ache from drawing circles into his back. The sniffling and sobs have ended finally, replaced by gentle snoring. His chest rising and falling against mine brings a quiet peace to me, and only now can I let my eyes fall shut, unsure if I feel heavier or lighter now. All that time where I was trying to heal, and even now, I was numb to the fact that he was breaking at my side, further and further.

I hope that you’ll let me fix you, too, Harry.

Sunlight creeps in through the hastily drawn shades, leaving my eyes scoured with white patches in front of them. Blinking them away slowly, my gaze wanders to the covers I lay beneath and that take me a few moments to place. It all comes together, like puzzle pieces, as I watch my bedroom sharpen around me. I feel the smile tug at my lips when I find the tousled head of dark curls lying opposite of me. He’s more real than he was a second ago when his thickening beard rubs at the back of my finger, and his locks fall through my fingers. Creases form on his forehead and a light moan sounds from behind his lips.

“Shh, go back to sleep, it’s okay,” I coo against his hair with a kiss, feeling my smile widen when his arms come around my middle.

“So, this is real,” I whisper, tracing shapes through his Queen shirt, relishing the sleepy warmth he spreads across me. With a huff, my hands find new homes on his body and I let myself fall back to sleep, thinking of all of the other dreams I’d like to come true next.

Shoots and zings of pain awaken me the next time, followed by the creaking of the door and a different voice.

“Ree, you awake?” somebody whispers from behind the door, but when I see the shock of green hair, I wonder how I could forget that face for a second. “Hey, morning- well, for one of you. It’s time for your meds, and I made some brekky. You should have your pills with it, I can bring some in for you.”

“Morning . . No, it’s okay, I want to let him sleep. I think he needs it more than me, do you think you could help me up and out?”

“Sure thing,” she whispers, her pink bunny slippers making soft pat-pat noises on the hardwood floor.

“Sweet dreams,” I wish ever so softly into his hair smelling of Sundays baking with my gran. Regrettably, my arms jelly like from sleep slide away from him, and I inch towards the other side of the bed.

“That had to have been the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, it’s like living in a dream,” I remark with a happy laugh, exhaling when my bum finds the cushions of the sofa. “If you would’ve told twenty-four year old that I’d be waking up to Harry in my bed at twenty six, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me, I wouldn’t have believed you, either,” Skye giggles, setting down a plate in front of me with a soft clatter, accompanied by the tap of a glass of orange juice.

“Okay, Chef Robbins, how much do you think I can eat? I’m not bloody pregnant, now am I? I’m just injured, not eating for two here,” I quip, nevertheless picking up the fork and stabbing at a curd of scrambled eggs.

“Don’t you even, you need to be getting your appetite back. I don’t expect anything less out of you - eating all of this. You have every damn food group on this plate, thank you very much - Harry would be proud.”

“He would. What, did you blooming write up a food menu with him, or something?” I ask through a few bites of fluffy eggs.

“No, but we did come up with a list of groceries together, so I reckon that’s fairly the same.”

“You, go grocery shopping, since when?” I say, crumbs littering my fingers when I pick up the half slice of buttered toast, shoveling cheesy eggs onto them.

“Since your bloody boyfriend bullied me into doing it.”

“Hmm, I should’ve had him do that a long time ago,” I laugh, and it’s welcomed by the sound of her obnoxious one. “My bloody God, you’re going to wake him up with that honker of yours, you know that!”

“Whoops, I better shut up. I need you all to myself for a change.”

“Oh, hush up, you had me all to yourself for twenty years or so, reckon you can give me up for a little bit,” I jest, watching her wild bed head shake back and forth with her disagreement. “Also, when’d you become a cook? This is good.”

“It’s eggs and cheese, no duh it’s good and it’s easy. Is he going to have any? There’s plenty more.”

“I dunno, I want him to get some more sleep. The poor guy’s been sleeping on a sofa for the last week, for Christ’s sake.”

“Fuck,” she sighs, biting into her toast with a crunch, leaving grape jam on her lips quite adorably. “Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.”

“What?” I say, staring at the blobs of jam on her lips until I hear my name rasped from the other side of the room. “Harry. H-hi, good morning. There’s uh, breakfast if you want some.”

“Oh, thanks. ‘ll use tha loo first.”

“And maybe put a shirt on, or, maybe not after all,” Skye jokes under her breath, but loud enough for me to hear as I watch Harry disappear down the hallway enclosed by the kitchen’s back wall. Every inch of his sleepy body regrettably leaves my eyes, including the mess of bedhead on him, the lack of a shirt, and amongst other things, those green eyes that only relaxed when they found me.

“Shut up, you creep!” I retort, failing to keep my chuckle to a low hush when her contagious laugh does its magic.

“All I’m saying is that I’m not complaining about the new house guest,” she explains with a shrug of her measly shoulders, standing to her feet. “I guess I’ll give the happy couple some privacy and eat my brekky with Buffy in my room.”

“Yeah, you go and pout, and leave my boyfriend alone in the hallway.”

“I can’t promise anything!” Skye squeals, her slippered feet slowly becoming harder to hear.

“Mmm, when’d ya wake up, bug?” somebody else asks, but I was ready and noticed him the moment his tall body walked back into frame.

“Only a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, how’re you feelin’? Did you take yer meds yet?” Harry questions, rubbing at his eyes on his way into the kitchen, too far away for my liking.

“I’m fine, but sore. Skye woke me up in the middle of the night to take my meds then, and I’m just about to take some more. How fun.”

“Oh, ‘m sorry I missed ‘em last night, Becks. I thought I set an alarm on my phone,” he yawns, his drowned out voice accompanied by the scraping of the pan.

“Yeah, I turned it off after she had done it, because I wanted you to sleep. That’s why I didn’t wake you just now, you need to sleep more.”

“I know, but ‘m okay. I woke up and saw you weren’t there, and I couldn’t fall back asleep.”

“You’re cute when you’re all worried,” I joke, chewing the last bite of scrambled eggs as the sofa cushions dip underneath me. “And shirtless.”

“Oh ya . . sorry ‘bout that. I mean it when I say yer a li’l heater, Becks, and with all o’ those blankets, I must’ve gotten too hot and taken me shirt off sumtime,” he explains with a shake of his head, the bright flesh of the strawberry contrasting to his bubblegum pink lips that surround it. Okay, Becky, it is too early and my brain is too foggy to be having these kinds of thoughts already today. “Alright, babe?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. The strawberries just look so good,” I lie, picking up one and biting into the juicy fruit. I’m unsure of how to feel about the fib going over his head, but it’s whisked away when his cold toes playing footsie with mine instead nudge mine repeatedly.

“Pills,” he insists from across me, nodding to the foreign looking organizer sat on the coffee table before me.

“Yes, yes, Nurse Styles,” I exhale, leaning forward to grab them, but I stop when a tight pain radiates through my abdomen.

“What’d I tell ya ‘bout bein’ careful, love? Ya can’t push yerself too hard now. Are you okay?” Harry coos, dropping his fork onto the plate sat on his lap, making quick work of grabbing the case for me.

“I know, Dad.”

“Now, what’d ‘d say ‘bout all that bein’ stubborn shit . . huh?” he rasps, voice framed by the clicking and clacking of the case opening and pills shaking about.

“I know, I know, you’re just fun to tease.”

“We know that too,” he answers, setting the case aside and clearing his throat a few times until I look at him.

“What, do you not know how to use your words?” he only dips his head a little lower and sighs.

“Watch tha mouth,” he huffs jokingly, dropping the slew of pills into my palm with a nod to my orange juice.

“You never said anything about toning down the sass.”

“Didn’t gather that I needed t’, Rebecca Ann, ‘ssa given,” he replies with his seesaw like shoulders helping him talk, finishing off the last few bites of his toast.

With a groan, I pick up the heavy bottomed glass and between a few glugs of juice, swallow down the multitude of pills. I chase them down with a few more bites of strawberries and hash browns.

“That betta not be all yer eatin’, Becks,” Harry tuts from my side, scraping his fork along the plate to gather the last scraps of eggs.

“I’m done.”

“No, yer not. Ya can be afta ya have two mo’ bites o’ p’tatoes, a strawb’rry, and finish yer juice,” he instructs, pointing his fork at the various food items.

“Fine, Dad,” I grunt, returning the fork to my hands and doing as he says. “You know, I’d make some joke about how you’d be a good lawyer, or better yet, a good father being all bossy, if you weren’t getting on my nerves.”

“That means ‘m doin’ me job then,” he chuckles softly from his perch on the sofa. “Hey, where d’ya think yer goin’?”

“What, I can’t go pee without you having to know that too?”

“Sorry,” he barely squeaks, looking away sheepishly from behind me.

“It’s okay, just chill on the ‘hovering dad thing’ when you’re well, not a dad.”

“I wouldn’t hafta act like yers if ya did what yer told with a li’l less attitude,” he bites back sarcastically, and I wish that he could see my eyes rolling from this far away.

“I learned from only the best!”

“Hey!” his protest meets my ears just as I close the bathroom door with a giggle, sighing when I get off my dodgy ankle to relieve myself.

“How upset are ya with me?” Harry coos, a creak heard behind him as he shuts my bedroom door.

“I’m not upset. I’d just like a little more ‘friendly nurse’ and a little less ‘drill sergeant’ from you, is all.”

“‘m sorry, bug, but we know both yer ‘bout tha most stubborn person we both know,” he explains, daring a few fingers to stroke my cheek. “C’mon, open ‘em up, Ocean Eyes.”

“No.”

“Becks,” he drawls with a feisty giggle, dragging his nose down the expanse of my cheek. “Y’know ya can’t stay mad at me fo’ too long, ya’ve never been able t’.”

“Oh, wanna bet?”

“Rebecca Ann,” he whines, bringing forth a giggle from my lips at his beard tickling my neck.

“What, Harry Edward? I swear, we’ve known how to push each other’s buttons since the beginning.”

“I don’t disagree,” he says in that breathy laugh. “C’mon, let’s have a cuddle, babe. You can’t deny me.”

“Oh, wanna bet?” I chuckle, moving away from him, finding that this stupid arm cast of mine gets stuck everywhere and on everything.

“Becks!” he scoffs with the most offended look on his face when he leaves my neck. “Be nice t’ me, ‘m jus’ tryna love on you, bug.”

“I don’t disagree,” I quip, relishing in the eye roll I receive and fully deserve, and enjoying the happiness that trickles from my lips next.

“C’mere, li’l one, yer bein’ a li’l shit again, I think I may have even missed it,” Harry says, the bed dipping under his weight as he returns me to his arms, draping the covers over us. “My bug,” he coos, following the nickname with a slew of kisses to my cheeks.

I think I’ve almost made it, almost.

“Harry, would you stop it already?!” I groan, exasperated by the sound of shuffling items and the pew-pew of the spray bottle.

“‘m almost done, Becks.”

“That’s what you said half an hour ago, Harry! Ugh, stop cleaning already and come and watch FRIENDS with me. We both know you’re not really watching it when you’re cleaning, no matter what you say,” I sigh, flipping open the covers in invitation. He stands back up and his eyes cast over to me with a raised eyebrow. Both of mine inch towards my forehead in response, challenging him. “Harry Edward, I swear to-,” I wheeze, losing my control.

“You swear what, huh, Rebecca Ann?” he responds, at last setting down the rag and cleaning spray on my desk that has never sparkled or looked so tidy as it does now, along with the rest of my bedroom. “Huh? Talkin’ a lotta shit, aren’t we? I swear t’ God, yer all bark and no bite,” he continues with a smile, the overhead light glinting on his gold cross necklace laid over his Beatles shirt that, much to my dismay, he slipped on after a shower this morning.

“You wanna bet?”

“Ya, I do,” he says, his hands falling splayed onto the mattress in front of me. My God, is he a tease with those long muscular arms, and licking those rose colored lips.

Fuck.

I can’t hold back anymore and press on the back of his neck, losing my fingers in the tight ringlets of hair sitting there, smiling into the kiss.

“Hey, watch it!” he exclaims, pulling away quickly and sucking on his bottom lip that my teeth had just sunk into. “Bloody hell, remind me not t’ doubt you anymo’, you li’l shit.”

“Your little shit,” I correct him with a smirk, pulling him closer by the neck and trying not to laugh at the shocked look on his face.

“My, you are sumthin’, aren’t you, Becks? I betta watch out. I gotta strong one here . . atta girl,” his smile is the last thing I see before his lips return to mine. “Wait a second.”

“What? I wanted to kiss you some more.”

“Oh, stop whinin’, my li’l baby,” he titters, walking away much to my dismay and opening the door to my closet. “What have I found here, hmm? ‘s this a photo album o’ baby Becks?”

“Oh, you found that?” I giggle, yanking up the covers to my shoulders and enjoying my view of him crossing the room. There is just something else about a man in joggers, sigh.

“Ya, when I was cleanin’. Looks like me hard work paid off afta’ all,” Harry says, sliding under the blankets with me. “What’re you starin’ at me like that fer?”

“Nothing,” I sigh shyly, scooting over until my head finds his tummy and his arm finds the curve of my shoulders.

“What’re you blushin’ ‘bout, li’l one?” he giggles from above me, laying his arm over the closed photo album. I only find that he’s forgotten it when I dare to peer up at him, and his eyes are waiting on me.

“I just- I dunno,” I huff with my cheeks aching from shy smiles. “This is kind of all I ever wanted, give or take a few parts. Including the waking up to you shirtless in my bed, and looking all cute in comfy clothes.”

That breathy laugh sparks his lips into a smile again, followed by his bottom lip escaping to between his teeth nervously.

“I don’t disagree,” he quips, and this time, I actually groan at how cheesy he can be. “Really tho’, Becks, I wanted all o’ this too. I dunno what t’ do with meself now that I have it all - get t’ wake up t’ you in tha mornin’, take care o’ you, spend me day watchin’ FRIENDS with you, and now, lookin’ at yer baby pictures with you. I can’t wait t’ see what our kids are gonna look like.”

“Stop it, or I’ll cry again,” I croak, swatting at his chest, but it’s nothing more than a tap.

“I hope those are happy ones,” he whispers into my hair, and a small laugh joins the tears running over my lips. “Bloody hell, think I might spill a few as well. Look at these, were you tha cutest baby or what?” Harry sighs happily after opening the book to a random page, lifting it to get a better look at a photo of four-month old Robbie and me in matching Winnie the Pooh Halloween costumes. Looking up at him, something twinkles in his eye and in his cheeks where the dimples sit lower than ever.

I hope oh so badly that our babies have those dimples of his. Someday.

Until then, I’ll soak up these days of waking up to him, hopefully shirtless, and falling asleep together watching our favorite show, and wondering how it could get any better.

Every day seemed to run into the next, and in the best way possible, don’t get me wrong. I got to wake up to Harry beside me, toasty in my bed, and due to that, absent of a shirt and I was not complaining. No, siree. Some body parts still hurt quite a bit, but slowly they hurt less and less, and through that time we got our routine down. Pills three times a day and then twice, Skye helped me with showers, physical therapy three times a week, my ankle became more steady, I could stay awake for longer periods at a time without needing a nap like a growing puppy, and quickly, I was fighting Harry for the last sausage or cookie.

He was enjoying it too, I could just tell. I would bet a lot of money that he couldn’t be enjoying it as much as me, though.

To say that I didn’t get sick of him would be a lie, because oh, were there moments. First, there was his incessant cleaning to keep him busy, which luckily was remedied by his Zoom meetings for work that he’d take in the living room once a day while I napped. Secondly, I swear he watched me and closely as I ate, and it got annoying very fast. The naps and Zooms helped loads though, as did the few times he went home to grab different clothes, do laundry and the like, and go grocery shopping, but even then I missed him a little bit. As soon as he left because I got sick of him, I wished he would come back, and that’s how it went again and again.

The cold bites at my cheeks, sure to have left them rosy and wind chapped. Not quickly enough, the car begins to warm up and so do I.

“Alright?” he says with a warmth to his voice that curls around my icy bones. Turning in my seat, I find his lips pinker than ever as he rubs the feeling back into my arm, my free one. Nodding at him, he returns it before pulling the seat belt over him and checking his mirrors.

“Are you?” I ask, a few moments after he had begun to drive.

“Mmmhmm,” he responds, kneading at his lips once we arrive at a red light, briefly meeting my eyes but not holding them.

“You’re . . acting weird, Harry,” I say slowly, unsure of my words and how he’ll receive them. “I’m the one still getting nervous about being in a car, so what’s your excuse?”

“Nuthin’ . . ,” he insists, grabbing hold of my hand when the light turns green, twirling the bracelet around my wrist absentmindedly. “‘Kay . . I was wonderin’ if we could stop somewhere befo’ we go home. Y’know, if yer not too tired afta P.T. jus’ now.”

“No, I’m good- I mean, yeah, we can. Preferably, if I can sit down at this place you’re going after that workout I just had.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Harry grins, avoiding my prying eyes that search for a hidden meaning in his words. Narrowing my eyes, I squint at him, hoping that will help me to decode his answer, but I come up empty. Sighing, I look away, unsure of why he isn’t letting me read him this one time, but forgetting it after I remember how unbelievably handsome he’s looking with the beard and ochre colored beanie pulled over his curls. “Stop starin’ at me, woman,” he titters, and I only reply with a confused shake of my head.

Sighing, I pull my phone from my pocket and find the absence of new texts, still. A smile tries at my lips when I revisit my screensaver that I gloss over at times, a giggly selfie from bed with Harry. I trace the dimples in his cheeks and the smile pinching them before letting it fall back into my pocket.

The shelves of items and hangers of clothes don’t do anything for me, nothing jumping out at me to buy it, and so I wander on to the next little shop, a bakery. Soon, a gooey cinnamon roll occupies my time as I wait, wait, and wait.

“What’s taking you so long, Harry?” I grumble under my breath, finding a seat in the corner of my favorite little coffeeshop down the street. It feels good to get off my ankle that still bothers me at times. Setting down my hot chocolate, the cinnamon roll stills in my hand when I look up and find my familiar view.

If I look hard enough, the sun is streaming in through the windows and that Bon Iver song is trickling from the speakers again. The mystery novel is sitting in front of me, beside a half empty mug of coffee, and there he is. He’s making jokes with the barista at the front, arms folded over the tall flat surface where outgoing drinks are placed for pick up. My heart could do it again, race incessantly like a horse out of its gate, and I’d likely remain glued to this seat, unwavering but not unwanting.

Dinggggg!

Blinking, I’m jolted from the memory by a sound, and suddenly, the sun isn’t leaking into the coffee shop and he isn’t standing there, belonging to somebody else anymore like I had dreamt about last night. My nightmares sure are getting creative these days, drudging up old memories from last summer, the summer from Hell. They must be drying up if they have to resort to the time I saw him in this coffee shop after he’d starting dating somebody else, the day I felt shocked in my seat dying to say hi to him, but more afraid than ever. It feels like another person then, to be afraid to go up to Harry and to say hi, but that’s how it all was. It’s how it all felt, and how I was feeling. He felt like another person entirely and so did I, as if strangers.

Shaking my head and then grimacing at the slight ache that it still holds, I glance down at my phone to find the text that I’ve been waiting for.

sorry it took me so long bug. i hope ya found something u liked at one of the shops, or coffee, knowing u ;) i’m guessing ur at the coffee shop still from ur snapchat, so if u turn the left corner, and go down to the end of that block, you’ll find me there ;) see u soon baby

I can’t hide the smile that sticks to my lips as I leave with the cinnamon roll tucked safely into my hands, but it wavers when I come across the shop he speaks of. I double check and I triple check before finding his Range Rover parked a few yards away, telling me that this is the place. How odd, I think, as the bell tinkles overhead and the classic rock music greets me.

It only takes me a few moments to find him, waiting on a brown leather sofa in a waiting room of sorts, wringing his hands in his lap. Uh yeah, I can only think of one reason why, and no more than that. I can’t tell if the anxiousness painting his body worsens or remains the same when he spots me in the doorway, standing to his feet and taking my hand.

“Hey, that’s mine!” I exclaim, grabbing for the last bite of the cinnamon roll that he steals from me. “Harry!” I sigh, watching him feed it between his lips, but he leaves one last bite pinched between his fingers.

“Oh, ya want this?” he smirks, holding it out for me. I inch forward and am surprised with a messy kiss that tastes of cinnamon and sugar, sparking a song behind my lips. “Here, baby Becks,” he coos, feeding it to me at last before he tugs on my hand to follow him.

“Harry, what’s going on? Why are we here? Why are you here, or do I even need to ask?”

“I thought ya graduated top o’ yer class, so ya should know why we’re here, Ms. Lawyer. Use yer deductive reasonin’ skills, Becks - why do ya deduce we’re at a tattoo shop?”

“Harry,” is all I say, voice absent of anything and everything as I follow him down a short hallway, and into a room that resembles a doctor’s office. It’s not much bigger, but is a spitting image with the massage parlor looking black bed-table-thingy.

“Matt, this ‘s Becks, and Becks, this ‘s Matt,” Harry says, and a tall man turns around and shines his pearly whites at me. “He’s been doin’ me tattoos fer awhile now, best artist I know.”

“H-Hi, nice to meet you.”

“You as well, I’ve heard a lot about you over the years,” Matt responds warmly, waving over to a comfy looking black office chair against the wall. Harry has already helped himself to the massage parlor looking thing, and his North Face and jumper have found their way off of him, too. “I hear you’re the reason we’re here today.”

“Wait, I am? What?” I answer, eyes flitting over to Harry’s. I’m sure of the alarm that blazes in them, and the flames only grow higher when he lets go of my hand. I can’t say that they die down when he slides off his long sleeved shirt dotted with nineties Nickelodeon tv shows, showing the entire room his sculpted torso and inked arms. The sage in his eyes warms and he scoops my hand up again, squeezing it and rubbing hearts into the back of my hand.

“Ya ready t’ see what ‘m gettin’, Becks?” Harry grins ever so proudly, I don’t think that his grin could be any more shit eating than it is right now.

The moments follow and they pass as Matt takes out a piece of what looks like tissue paper on it with purple ink, the design obscured from my eyes. The last thing he does before leaving is to press it to the blank slate above Harry’s heart, and slowly peels it away, revealing the image to me at last.

His eyes find mine first and I can’t tell if the sage green is blurring because my eyes deceive me, or that his betray him. Within seconds, it seems that both of our eyes have made a mess of themselves with tears, his shed onto my hand when he brings it to his lips with a kiss. I’m certain that he could taste mine when I steal a kiss from his lips, and there are those that water his neck with them, sure to not smudge the sentiment that waits to become permanent above his heart.

“Harry, is that-,” I begin at last after pulling away from him, my hand falling from his cheek slick with tears.

“Mmmhhm, ‘s yers,” he answers with a definitive nod, several meanings encapsulated in his words, but I take with me only a few. My fingers trace above his skin the four numbers, ever so familiar to me. “Yer handwritin’, Becks.”

“Why 2024?” I wheeze, wiping away the lingering tears, knowing that they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. As I speak them, the answer rings behind my eyes, but I wait for his answer.

“‘Cuz,” he answers, like it’s ever so obvious, willing my eyes back to his waiting pair. “I know this year’s only started, and ‘s been a bit o’ a shit show t’ say tha least, but ‘s tha year that brought you back t’ me, and let me keep you. ‘ll be grateful t’ it forever, and t’ you, Becks.”

“I love you,” I whisper, not having decided to say the words and yet, there they are, spilling themselves to his ears.

“I love you, baby, mo’ than anythin’,” he giggles happily, a tear breaking free from his eye to course down his cheek. His beard is ticklish against my temple where his lips litter kisses and love, the reason those very numbers are about to become permanent right where his heart lives under his chest. “I found a grocery list you had written tha other day, and I dunno- I jus’ loved tha way you wrote tha year and how those numbas meant so much . . and mo’ importantly, I couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout how I wanted t’ forget all o’ this . . yer accident. So, instead o’ forgettin’, I wanna remember this bumpy start we’ve had, by this, havin’ yer writin’ on me fer me life.”

“Harry Styles,” I giggle nervously with hot cheeks, shaking my head in disbelief as I stare at the floor, our intertwined hands blocking my view ever so wonderfully.

“My Rebecca Ann.”

“Are we ready to get this show on the road?”

Harry nods at me with a questioning look, and I nod at him, squeezing his hand.

“Alrighty then, let’s do it,” Matt announces with enthusiasm in his voice, something that wanes inside of me at the prospect of seeing Harry in pain.

If he can do it, going through about as much hell as I did after that car hit me, then I can at least do this. The insane amount of flattery and the overwhelming love that radiates off of him as the tattoo gun begins to buzz, helps to soften the blow.

I love him more than I did just a second ago. Again.

It smells the same, and sounds like before. I welcome the familiarity, but a shy nervousness sits in the corner of my mind, and deep down, inside of my gut. An excitement tries to overtake it up there, and I wait on the sidelines to see what will happen.

The thought is whisked away when there’s a whisper of a touch against my temple, and my body bumps habitually into his, seeking safety. Blinking hard and looking upwards to my left, I find a smile waiting in those molten sage eyes.

“Alright, bug?” Harry coos, leaning down to press his lips to mine briefly. I nod in reply, waving my thumb over his jawline hidden in thick facial hair, a sight I never thought I’d see inside of these four walls. “Are ya ready t’ get back into tha thick o’ it, Becks?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s about time that you let me come back, I’ve been going mad sitting at home having nothing to do for the last few weeks, and especially since you’ve been back part time since last week,” I answer, the song he sings joining that of my own when his fingers brush against my ribs that don’t ache from his touch anymore, and his nose nudges at my temple that doesn’t hurt when I laugh too hard.

“Hey, I know that, but I wanted t’ make sure ya wouldn’t over exert yerself and yer arm ‘s still gettin’ all caught up bein’ in that cast fer awhile. Also, I rememba a certain sumbody practically forcin’ me t’ come back, I didn’t have much say over tha matter. Hmmm, I can only wonder who that’d be,” he jests, and all hints of my poker face run away from me as he raises his eyebrows at me. The very pair he let me have my way with the other day, which lasted about five seconds before he started whining, even though the woosey has fresh ink on him.

“I know, you’re still being Daddy Harry,” I sigh dramatically, its ending found in a deep chuckle that he elicits from my lips with a surprise bear hug. His laugh drips with molasses too, and I feel like this couldn’t taste any sweeter, my arms hidden under his blazer and nudging at his belt.

“I’ll manage.”

“I know ya will, ya always do . . my Becks. ‘ll be there t’ help too,” Harry smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of my head as the electronic number reaches to twelve above our heads. My head falls to the crook of his neck where it’s longed to be . . for such a long time. Years. His solid arms filled with safety lift from me and return once they wrap his violet blazer around me, and only do I close my eyes when his lips find a temporary home on the top of my head. “Y’know, I dunno what t’ call you now - mentee, colleague, girlfriend.”

“You can just call me either or, boss boyfriend,” I suggest, meeting his glowing green eyes while an electronic ding sounds overhead, signaling another floor passed.

“Sounds good t’ me, Rebecca Holte,” he hums, a corner of his mouth curled into his cheek and sharing that happy dimple with me. The chipped black nail polish teases at my sight when his thumb runs over the brand new scars dotting my cheeks that he’s healed with his kisses. “Ya betta make this one last fer a while now, we have a meetin’ right off tha bat,” he says firmly with raised eyebrows, but a smile teases at its corners.

Standing on my tiptoes, I lean forward and close my eyes, seeing the glinting flecks of gold in his eyes as I taste the honey on his lips. It’s hidden in the words that pass unspoken between our lips, cut short by the declarative beeps and the number sixteen waiting atop, seventeen just around the corner. With a giggle, I steal one last peck from his lips, and watch as he shakes his head after my wandering hand squeezed his bum.

“C’mon, you li’l shit,” he mutters with a roll of his eyes, adjusting the strap of his shiny, new messenger bag strewn across his chest. “Or would ya ratha I say, ‘shall we, Becks?” Harry asks, holding out a hand in front of us, and I nod.

“Let’s go, boyfriend,” I say with a large smile, catching the wink he gives me as our shoes click and clack on the marbled black tiling of the firm’s floors.

Now, I have.

I’ve really made it now.

I thought I had once or twice before, but this is it. I have it all, and more is on the way, and no longer are the dreams out of arm’s reach. No, they’re right there where I can touch them, and so is a very special one that won’t stop smiling at me, and I wouldn’t ever want to stop smiling at him.

Another thing I’m sure of is that I’d never want to stop listening to the song that flows from his lips, I could listen to it for the rest of my life.

THE END . . FOR NOW

Don’t miss Harry and Becks’ future adventures in the sequel to The Assistant, The Partner, coming soon! Until then, you can catch up with Hecky when The Firsts, an Assistant Blurb Series, begins September 14th at 12pm CST! Keep an eye out for the masterlist post for The Firsts, to be published soon! I could never thank all of you enough for reading and for sticking around this long with me. I am so excited to continue this series and for you to see what’s coming ;) See you in two weeks!

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thenovelartist · 5 years

Text

Everyday Ladybug

We get to share our pieces for the @kittylovezine ! Here was my submission. :D

Chat had a healthy fear of Mr. Dupain. He was a mountain. Hence, Chat always made sure that everything he did with Marinette was respectable.

Well… he already did that; Marinette deserved to be treated with the utmost respect. But with Mr. Dupain, Chat made sure it was known that everything he was doing with Marinette was one thousand percent respectable.

Particularly when his surprise for her eighteenth birthday included candles, rose petals, and slow music.

Much to Chat’s relief, Mr. Dupain grasped his shoulder and gave Chat his permission with a smile. But the warning grasp on his shoulder said another thing. That’s my little girl.

Chat hoped his smile wasn’t as strained as it felt. Noted.

The day of Marinette’s birthday arrived, and her parents and friends threw her one heck of a party. Adrien enjoyed the day but had to leave the party early so that “Chat Noir” would have time to set up the rooftop surprise. He took his time organizing candles everywhere, placing roses and their petals around them. With an approving smile, he looked over his work just as the sun began setting. When he determined everything was perfectly in order, he took the last part of his present and headed back to her house.

He landed on her balcony and gave her skylight a knock. She was quick to answer.

“Happy Bir—”

She tackled him in a tight hug before he could finish. The way her face nuzzled against his shoulder made his pulse sky-rocket while the way her body was pressed against him made it hard to breathe.

She sighed happily, and he couldn’t resist cocooning her in his arms right there. “Thank you, kitty,” she said. She pulled her face from his chest, only to set her chin on his collarbone and shoot him a smile that almost melted him into a big puddle of Chaton on the spot. “Are you coming down? Maybe watch a movie and let me kick your tail in video games?”

“As appealing as that sounds,” he said, “I actually have a surprise for you.”

Her eyes lit up brighter than the candles he’d set up that evening. “What sort of surprise?”

“I’ll have to take you to it.”

At this, her eyes widened again, this time with fiery curiosity.

“But first,” he said, unwrapping himself from her so she could see the garment bag in his hand. “You’re going to go put this on.”

She looked at the bag curiously, then spotted the Gabriel logo on it. Her eyes were back up to his in a heartbeat while her jaw was on the ground. “That better not be expensive.”

“Whether it is or isn’t is not something you get to concern yourself with.”

“Chat!” she cried. “We talked about this.”

“You talked; I listened.”

“Chat.”

“Princess, it brings me great pleasure to spoil you,” he said. “Indulge me.”

She looked at him, exasperated. “You don’t have to spoil me.”

“The fun part of spoiling you is that you don’t spoil,” he countered with a smile.

She sighed, knowing there was no winning this fight. “Do you want me to get ready or…”

He looked at her thoughtfully, then with great care, tugged out the ribbons holding her twin tails in place. From there, he fluffed her hair, causing a lovely little blush to rise to her cheeks. “There,” he said, cradling her reddening cheeks tenderly in his hands. “Perfect. Now, just go put on the dress, and we can go.”

“Okay,” she said, breathless. Slowly, she pulled herself away from him and retreated down to her room. “No peeking.”

“I promise,” he said, turning to look off her balcony. With that, he heard the trap door shut.

He waited patiently for her to finish, smiling when he heard her squeal of delight from her room. She must love the dress. He knew she would the moment he saw it on the rack of a photoshoot.

Sometimes, being the boss’s son had its advantages.

He turned around when he heard the trap door opening, and when she stepped out, he just about fell over.

She stood shyly, her eyelashes fluttering over her pink cheeks. “How do I look?”

He swallowed, begging his mouth to move and tongue to function. “Dazzling.”

Her blush deepened.

He forced himself to take a breath in an attempt to pull himself together. He still had to take her to her next surprise, after all. “And now, let’s be off, Princess. Allow this humble knight to abscond with you.”

She giggled, and it made his heart flutter wildly. “Okay.”

After telling her to close her eyes, he swept her up bridal style. She was quick to toss her arms around his neck and snuggle closer.

She was going to be the death of him one of these days.

He found himself surprisingly okay with that.

He bounded across the rooftops to where he’d set up her surprise. Carefully, he set her down. “No peeking.”

She giggled. “I promise.”

Smiling, he quickly hurried over to his speaker, turning on the playlist that he’d spent a couple weeks agonizing over. He made sure the candles were all still lit, then told her to open her eyes.

Her reaction was all he could hope for.

“This was…”

“The same balcony I brought you to,” he said. “All those years ago.”

She nodded. “With the surprise you had planned for Ladybug.”

He nodded. “But it’s all for you, now,” he said. With that, he extended his hand. “Dance with me, my precious princess.”

With a growing smile, she slipped her hand into his, allowing him to pull her nearly flush against him. “Of course, my noble knight.”

They danced an entire song before she spoke. “Chat.”

“Hmm?”

“Why me?”

“Why you?” he repeated, confused.

“Why choose me to pursue?”

He cocked his head, his brow furrowing. “What man wouldn’t?”

“You have Ladybug.”

“We’re just partners.”

“Still.” She paused to look up at him. “You were in love with her for ages. And now…”

He smiled, realizing where this was going. “Now, I’m here with you.”

She nodded.

“Because,” he said, picking his words carefully. “When I was ready to fall, you were there to catch me.”

Her brow knit together. “Ready to fall?”

His smile turned lopsided and easy. “Come now, princess,” he said. “You are this absolutely incredible woman who’d charmed many a man, akuma, and superhero. You’re a strong, intelligent, creative woman who cares so deeply for others. It’s really hard for a man not to fall.”

She blushed, hiding her face in his shoulder. “You make me sound like I’m some sort of goddess.”

He grinned, holding her close. “Sounds about right.”

She snorted in amusement. “I’m not that special.”

“Never say that again,” he warned with a whisper. “Because you are.”

Her cheeks turned red and her smile bashful. “Then tell me this,” she said. “What makes me so special to have caught the eye of a magical tomcat when he could have had Ladybug?”

“Maybe…” He paused to consider his words carefully. “Maybe this tomcat is growing a little tired of constantly having magic in his life. Maybe he just wants a girl who’s crazy amazing but grounding at the same time.”

“And that’s me?”

His eyes locked on hers, blue crashing into green with shocking intensity. She looked so open and safe… everything about her was so inviting, and he found that he wanted to divulge all his secrets to her.

It was her birthday, he reasoned. He could slip.

“Well, with as capable and creative and caring as you are,” he said, “You’ve become my everyday Ladybug.”

He watched as those words slowly sank in and hit her core. Her eyes widened.

He winked to confirm it.

With a grin stretching across her face, she reached up to cradle his cheeks. He leaned into her touch, his eyes drifting closed for the longest time. When he opened them again, she was giving him a look so warm it felt like home.

She felt like home.

“I’m glad you’re my kitty,” she whispered.

His heart was warm and light, and he felt like he could fly. “Dance with me, My Everyday Ladybug.”

She grinned, shifting in his hold to snuggle against him in an intimate slow-dance hold. “Just Ladybug.”

His eyes widened as his mind reeled with that information. And when she smiled, he thought every part of him would explode.

Somehow, he held it together long enough to smile at her even though his brain was hazy and foggy, and he couldn’t care less that he felt like he was so light he could float away. “Well, then,” he said, lovesick smile on his face. “I guess that just makes you my Ladybug, everyday.”

If there was a smile that could promise forever—for a marriage and family and life together—it would be the one she was giving him now. “I like the sound of that.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #marichat #fluff #romance #sweetness #kittylovezine

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swiftlymoniquesblog · 4 years

Text

Perfectly Confused Angel- Part 14

A/N: Welcome to Y/N and Castiel’s wedding! I’ve spent the last several days working on this chapter because I firmly believe these two deserve a beautiful celebration of their love! I LOVE this picture of Misha and I think this would be how Cas looks on his wedding day! Photos and music will be linked throughout the chapter for special effects so please use them and please send in feedback; I appreciate it!

Word Count: 5,000+

Warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF!! Mentions of pre and post wedding sex, mentions of a boner, slight mention of nervousness and anxiety

Previous chapter| Masterlist

Castiel’s POV

It had been several months since y/n and I began planning our wedding. For years, I saw how humans put on weddings. In most cases, they were big, with lots of people and they were beautiful, with elegance and class and very extraordinary, all the way down to the smallest detail. But when it came to me, I never thought about the celebration, let alone marry a human. Our prophecy states that an angel can fall in love with another angel but nothing about falling in love with a human. Maybe because it was unheard of, but what did that matter? I met someone, who had been there for me through everything, the good and the bad, and she loves me anyway, and I decided to marry her. Heaven takes that kind of thing very seriously; I take it very seriously. It just happens that my bride is a human, is that so bad? I didn’t think so and she didn’t think so and that is all the convincing we needed. I remember the first time I met y/n’s parents; I don’t think they liked me. Her father yelled at me for being an “older man messing around with my little girl” and then y/n explained that even though I looked older than she was, I would forever look like this and one day, she would look older than me. That blew their minds and I remember thinking how most humans lacked an imagination. And after a lot of talking, heated discussion, and crying, her parents finally came around to accepting the fact that their ‘little girl’ fell in love with an angel. It was very untraditional and that worried me, but y/n reminded me that our entire relationship was unconventional and that was why we loved each other. She was very against a traditional wedding; no church for the ceremony. No, she didn’t want a wedding anything as anyone had experienced before. And that’s what she got.

It was early in the morning, on April 23rd, I had ‘woken’ up, to see y/n was laying next to me still asleep. I watched her like I always did, but I was seeing her in a different light. She was going to be my wife in a few short hours and everything will be different. I am no longer just myself; I will fully be committed to someone else. That’s something a lot of people take advantage of these days but to me and y/n, it will be cherished for as long as we live. She begins to stir then, and I couldn’t turn away. I know how tradition goes, the bride and groom are not allowed to see each other before the ceremony but we already broke that rule by sleeping in the same bed as one another, so I figured, this was just another tradition y/n didn’t want to follow.

“Good morning, Honeybee. Happy wedding day,” I say as her eyes flutter open and she looks up at me, a smile making its way on her face.

“Happy wedding day,” she says. “You know we aren’t supposed to see each other before the ceremony, right? Well, I guess she does care?

“Well, yes, but I thought you didn’t want a traditional ceremony?” I ask.

“Not all traditions are silly. I happen to like this one for the fact that I can surprise you in my wedding dress and not looking like I just stumbled out of bed,” she says, as an insult on how she looks first thing in the morning.

“The surprise I understand but I think you look beautiful first thing in the morning,” I say, leaning over to kiss her shoulder.

“You’re just saying that because you’re about to marry me,” She says.

“No, I’m marrying you because I say things like that. And because I love you wholeheartedly and I want everyone to be apart of us becoming one,” I say, a blush forming on y/n’s cheeks.

“Then, let’s go get married!” Y/N says, quickly pecking my lips before jumping up to grab her phone. I remain lying in bed, watching as she started her ‘usual routine.’ The smile that begins to play, kicking her into full gear to prepare for the biggest day of both of our lives.

“It’s a beautiful night, we’re looking for something fun to do, hey baby, I think I wanna marry you.”

“Of course, this would be the song you play on your wedding day,” I joke to her.

“Hey, I’ve waited ten years to be able to play this song and to be getting ready for my own big day. This is a BIG deal for me, okay?” She defends herself.

“I know it is but you do know it’s on our playlist for the reception, right?”

“It doesn’t matter, Cas! I’m going to playing this song on repeat, all day.” I smile at my fiancé as she dances around in her underwear while she brushes her teeth and washes her face. I couldn’t wait to wake up this way every day.

We both begin to get ready, not really caring about the other seeing the other, because we haven’t begun the wedding stuff yet. But I couldn’t help but think that we were missing something rather important.

“Hey, babe?” I call to her, to get her away from looking at her dress in its bag in our closet.

“Yeah?” She calls back but stays where she is.

“Don’t you think we should have some breakfast first?” I call to her and I hear her gasp before she comes out of the closet.

“How can we eat when we’ll be stuffing our faces at our dinner tonight? And our cake!”

“I know Honeybee, but that’s not for several more hours.”

“Well, what time is it now?” She asks.

“6:30,” I say looking at my phone before noticing the stunned look on y/n’s face.

“Damn, we got up early!” She exclaims and we both laugh.

“Would that be because you’re excited for today?” I tease her, knowing she most definitely was.

“No, not at all. It’s not like I’ve been waiting since the day we first met when you came down here from heaven, to watch over my best friends or anything. Nope, no excitement here,” Her sarcasm is very strong; she watches too much Friends. I laugh and go to kiss my soon-to-be-wife. Funny that I can’t stop saying that I’m going to be marrying y/n. But I’d like to enjoy a few more moments with her as my fiancé. We’ll never be engaged again so why not make it last just a bit longer?

I grab the phone from the nightstand on my side of the bed and dial the restaurant downstairs. I order a lot of food, making sure to order plenty of coffee considering we both will be up for a long time today. Of course, we order a lot of food, but we don’t care. We have a long day ahead of us before we’ll get to dinner. Y/N had come back to bed, crawling right back under the covers and snuggling up to me, a lazy smile forming on her lips.

“What are you doing, silly girl?” I ask her, looking down at her, pushing some hair that had fallen in her face.

“I just want to stay in bed with you, as your fiancé, for long as possible. I want to cherish the feeling of being your fiancé forever,” she says, looking at me with big doe-like eyes.

“That is an important thing, but I can’t wait to enjoy the feeling of having you as my wife,” I say as I snuggle in next to her, wrapping her in my arms and turning the tv on. As she flips through the channels, finding something to watch, a knock on the door pulls me away, and a disgruntled groan falls from y/n.

“My warmth!” She cries as I answer the door. A man in a tuxedo enters the room with a cart full of silver-topped dome lids. He takes each dome off one at a time and I can hear y/n running in to see what I ordered. Waffles with strawberries and whipped cream, eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns; all her favorites. And two pitchers of coffee with tons of cream and sugar, just the way she likes.

“See, this is why I’m marrying you, Cas. You always know how to feed me,” she says in all sincerity but I decided to poke fun at her.

“Oh great, so I’m only good for food. Okay then,”

“Okay you know that is not true at all. You’re also good for doing laundry,” she adds, going a bit too far with her jokes.

“That’s it, you’re going to get it,” I say to her before I tell the waiter that he can’t bring us anything else. As he’s leaving, I turn to y/n, pick her up over my shoulder, her squealing in the process, and tossing her on the bed. Just when she thinks that was all I was going to do as ‘her punishment,’ I ferociously begin tickling her.

“Cas!” Y/N screams as my fingers work their way all around her. I smile, loving seeing her so happy but also so helpless under my prodding fingers. She had no way of escape but I soon let her go after she apologized.

“Alright, so now that I’ve laughed so hard my sides hurt, can I please eat?” She asks, poking her bottom lip out like that of a child.

“Save the puppy dog looks to Sam. You got nothing on him. And yes, let’s eat,” I say, earning a ‘bitch face’ and no sharing from y/n. Guess I had that one coming. Two movies and a shit ton of missing food later, it comes time to get ready for the ceremony.

“Do we have to? Can’t we get married right here? I mean, it’ll be pretty tight but it could work. Any everyone can just stay in their pajamas,” she says, trying out that puppy dog look again and still failing.

“Unfortunately, Honeybee, we cannot have a wedding here. Believe me, I’ve already looked into it. Plus, you have that beautiful dress you’ve been dying to wear and you’ve been eyeballing it all morning. It’ll look better in the lighting from the venue I’m sure,” I make up some excuse for her to get ready.

“I’ll see you in a few hours okay? You’ll be just fine. Your Mom will be coming to get you and all your bridesmaids soon, too. You go have fun and I’ll be waiting for you,” I say, giving her one last kiss for the next several hours. Granted, it was only 10 am, but it was a good half-hour to our venue and then we still have to get dressed and people still have to start showing up. And there was some talk about a few ‘last-minute’ gifts from the mother of the bride and her bridal party.

“Okay, I’ll be the one in the white dress,” she jokes and grins, proud of her funny self.

“I sure hope so. And I’ll be one of the many guys in a tux,” I joke back and kiss her again. I grab my suit out of the closest in its bag and grab my phone and other necessities for the ceremony. Y/N had already turned up the music louder and was back to dancing and shaking her ass, knowing I was still in the room. Man, what I’m going to do to that ass later on. I shake the thought and head down to the lobby. When the doors opened, Sam, Dean, and Jack were sitting around in the lobby.

“Well, it’s about time you came down here!” Dean exclaims, throwing his phone down on the chair, before standing to hug me; Sam and Jack doing the same.

“Sorry guys, y/n and I got a bit…distracted,” I explain but it came out very wrong.

“Ah, pre-wedding sex. Nice work buddy,” Dean said, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

“Not that it is any business of yours, but that wasn’t what I meant. I ordered a nice, big breakfast for the two of us and we were watching movies.”

“So, no pre-wedding sex?” Dean asked, for final clarity.

“No Dean, no sex right now. Tonight, yes, but again, that isn’t any concern of yours so let’s not talk about it again, shall we?” I say, trying to hide the red tint on my cheeks. The thought of sex with y/n as husband and wife was very exciting for me. In fact, it started getting a bit too excited so I quickly had to shake the thoughts out of my head but that was a difficult task. The Impala was brought to us from a young man, who seemed rather impressed with the classic car we took all our adventures in.

“Thanks, kid,” Dean said as he was handed the keys and we all climbed in, driving off to the ceremony location. Following the non-traditional theme y/n wanted, our ceremony was going to be held in a place where too many weddings didn’t happen. For some reason, she decided to set up an arch, laced with red roses, on the coast of New York City, with the view of the Brooklyn Bridge behind us. The chairs were white and tied together by a ribbon with bouquets of red roses at the ends. The aisle was white lace, stretching over the grass beautifully, and separating the bride’s family from the grooms. But, considering my family was angels, I wasn’t expecting too many people on my side. There was a table set up off the side where guests could write little messages to me and y/n. That was one thing she was insistent on having; a jar of messages for when we have our first fight. I had laughed, knowing we don’t get in too many disagreements but she was stubborn and said that once we’re married, we won’t always see eye-to-eye. I shook my head as she set the jar up, and trusted her ideas.

“Wow Cas, this looks beautiful,” Sam commented, taking in the sight before him.

“As much as I would like to take credit for this, it was all y/n’s ideas. She was very hands-on with all the planning,” I say, thinking back to when we began planning.

“So, what did you do then?” Dean asked, poking fun at me.

“I approved or denied things,” I said honestly.

“And she didn’t kill you?” Dean asks, now chuckling.

I laugh a bit too; y/n could get pretty bossy. But she wasn’t when it came to wedding planning.

“No, she was actually very laid back and she valued my opinions, even used some of them, too. We agreed on everything that you see here, as well as the reception and where to go on our honeymoon,” I comment.

“Oh yeah, I’m going to want to hear about that!” Dean said, wiggling his eyebrows and getting an eye roll from Sam and me.

“Come on, Dean, let’s go see what we can help with. Cas needs to get ready,” Sam said, dragging his older brother away.

“Party pooper, Sammy!” He moaned but his mood changed as soon as he saw a pretty blonde.

I shake my head and begin to head inside the room we rented out in a small, no-longer operating, brewery when Jack caught up to me.

“Hey, Cas,” He says, falling in step with me.

“Yes, Jack?”

“I was wondering about this wedding thing, what’s it for?” He asked, mimicking my eye-squint and slight head tilt I would do whenever something confused me. He was pretty good.

“Well, it’s a ceremony that all angels believe in and God himself, wants for human beings. It’s a way for a couple to make their love known to all they come in contact with. That also signifies the rings. We place them on each other’s hands as a way to show others that we belong to someone else,” I explain what a wedding and marriage meant to me.

“You belong to someone?” Jack quips, adding more questions to his wondering.

“Oh, that’s just a saying. No one has or should have possession over another person, or angel in our case, but they are tied to the other, in spirit and physically. That’s what the honeymoon is. Making their love physical and finalizing their commitment to each other. It’s very beautiful, really. And both y/n and I take weddings and marriages seriously, while a lot of humans don’t anymore. One of the many reasons I’m marrying her.” I say, smiling at the fact.

“That sounds wonderful, Castiel! I hope to find someone like y/n and marry her; you’re very lucky,” Jack says, a look of hope on his young features.

“I am Jack, very lucky. I don’t deserve someone like her but you bet I am going to cherish being her husband for the rest of my days,” I finish my speech on why marriage is important as I get dressed in my suit. When I’ve fully dressed myself, I look in the long mirror that stood in the corner and fixed my tie. I began feeling more human than I ever had since I landed on earth, my heart racing as I thought of the events that were going to conspire in a few short hours. It didn’t take me too long to dress, but I knew y/n was nowhere near ready. From my understanding of human women, they take a long time to get ready for any kind of outing, but weddings, I’ve been told, take a longer time for preparation and most likely, y/n has cried a few times. Her “team” of bridesmaids have been helping her get ready, dress, shoes, hair, and makeup. I imagine her nails are done with a design special for the day, and her toenails probably match, too. She takes events very seriously, making sure her nails matched. I can just imagine how beautiful she will look when she walks down the aisle to me.

“Cas?” Dean asks, knocking on the door and entering the room. “Dude, you look sharp. Ready to start the rest of your life?” He asks, throwing his arm around my shoulders.

“You have no idea. Is she ready now?” I ask, knowing it was nearing 5 pm.

“Yup, she’s finally stopped crying, her makeup is perfect; she’s ready,” Dean says, a small smile forming on her lips.

“Have you seen her? H-how does she look?” I ask, running my hand down my arm as nerves began to rack my body.

“She looks absolutely beautiful, Cas. You’re one lucky son of a bitch, if I do say so myself,” Dean grins, clapping his hand on my shoulder.

I smile to myself and feel my nerves getting stronger as the minutes pass by. She looks beautiful like I knew she would, but I can’t imagine just how beautiful she looks today. I wasn’t nervous because I was marrying y/n, I was nervous because I wasn’t sure I would be a good husband. I knew nothing about it, being an angel and all doesn’t really teach you anything about it, but from what I’ve seen for centuries from other human relationships, I think I have a good understanding. I follow Dean outside to where the groomsmen would line up, as we all waited for the big moment. Guests were starting to file in and I noticed everyone stopped by our table to leave us messages. That itself made me nervous too; would we really fight that much? These thoughts are running through my head but then the moment had arrived; y/n was coming.

Music began to play and everyone stood up, turning to the back to watch as the bridesmaids and groomsmen walked up the aisle. Y/N had chosen a rather untraditional song to walk down to me but it kept with the theme. It an orchestra version of a song called Love Story by one of her favorite artists. She had played both versions of the song for me as were planning and I liked it too. I had said it was the perfect song for us to start our lives together. Just then, there was a long pause between bridesmaids and I knew it meant y/n was on her way out. When she reached the aisle, my heart dropped into my stomach. Dean didn’t do her justice when he told me how she looked; she was stunning. Her dress was breathtakingly beautiful. Covering her chest and down to her stomach, was nothing but silver rhinestones. Then from the bottom, the dress spread out in front of her and the rhinestones fell in perfect line with the rest of the dress. There was glitter spread throughout the dress and the train that followed her was just as detailed as the rest of the dress. Her y/h/c was wrapped on top of her head, tied together with a braid and a small tiara sat on her head with a veil softly covering her face. I could see her smiling wide, to all the people who had come to see her and I knew she was loving her moment. Her Dad had escorted her up to me and I had begun to cry when I saw just how stunning she looked. I couldn’t believe she was mine forever.

“Hi,” I said to her when she stood just opposite me.

“Hi,” she answered, chuckling through her own tears.

“You look incredible, y/n,” I say, taking both her hands in mine.

“And you look very handsome, Cas,” she said, tears slowly falling from her eyes. As if on instinct, I went to wipe the tears away but she stopped me because I wasn’t supposed to lift her veil until after the vows. I remember her telling me that so I knew why she stopped me, without her telling me why.

The preacher had begun the ceremony with a traditional introduction but that was all for the traditional aspects of the evening.

“Y/N and Castiel have written their own vows and chose to read them aloud today,” y/n was handed the microphone first and spoke her words from a few notecards she had written earlier. They were beautiful and I took note that not one person was left with dry eyes. Then, she handed the microphone to me; not needing any guidance with my vows.

“Y/N, when we first met, I didn’t know a lot about love or what it meant to love someone so deeply, but when I came here to look after the Winchesters, I wasn’t expecting to see you or to have really anything to do with anyone besides Sam and Dean but then, you had come in the room, and instantly took a liking to me. There were a lot of things I’ve had to learn and you were the only one who was patient with me, the only one who stayed by my side when I had gone to the hospital and ended up having to stay for two weeks. You know how to take care of me when I’m injured, you know how to make me laugh when I’m upset, you know how to comfort me when I’ve needed it. There isn’t any other person I even like being around more than you; my favorite little person. I promise to always be there for you when life gets to be too much for you and I promise to always find ways to show you just how much I love you. I can’t imagine any life without you and I know now, I will never have to. I love you so much, Honeybee, and I cannot wait to start the rest of our lives together,” I finish my speech and after a few closing remarks from the preacher, the words I’ve been waiting to hear where spoken.

“I now pronounce you, husband and wife. Castiel, you may kiss your bride,” the preacher said. I took the veil and folded it behind y/n’s head and brought her close to me by her waist, and capturing her lips with mine; the first of many as a married couple. Cheers and applause had erupted around us but all I could focus on was y/n. If there wasn’t a reception to go to, I would’ve stayed here and kissed her for the rest of eternity but I knew I had to let her go. We smiled at one another, then to everyone around us, before locking hands and walking back up the aisle with everyone blowing bubbles. There were also a few machines that had released bubbles into the air to add more than enough for a bubbly theme. A princess style carriage was waiting to take us to our reception; another touch added by y/n. We climb inside and say hello to our driver, waving to our friends and family as we took off. I scoot closer to y/n and whisper in her ear: “Now I do love this dress but I can’t wait to take it off you later on.” Her eyes had widened, not used to hearing me talk so low and almost “dirty” as some people would call it, but I really didn’t care what others said. Y/N’s reaction was perfect, especially when my teeth had gently grazed her earlobe. She looked in my eyes, seeing they had darkened a few shades of blue but I turned to look away quickly. I had to leave her with a bit of wonderment as we had arrived at the venue.

Inside, there were Disney inspired decorations for the wedding. There are still things that make y/n a child at heart and I hoped she would never lose that. She was adorable when she watched Disney movies and I knew she wanted a Disney theme for the reception. Everything from the centerpieces to the utensils to the food we served and the cake, Disney was evident in everything. Most of the songs we played were Disney theme or popular classic rock and pop songs y/n had grown up with. We danced the night away, ate plenty of food and cake, had our first slow dance, and y/n danced with her Father. We took plenty of photos and videos were taken for us to look at later. A table was set up for gifts and another one for more message’s guests could leave for us. This time, they were advice about having a marriage and children or recipes for us to use later on. The night had gone without a hitch and I was finally able to call y/n my wife. As the night came to a close, I drew more anxious for the big night that was waiting for us behind closed doors. I could barely wait to take that dress off y/n and to physically seal our marriage but it felt as though the ending dragged on. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, it was time for us to go back to our room.

“Ready to go?” I ask y/n, who’s eyes had turned a bit darker themselves.

“Absolutely, husband,” she said husband in a lower tone, only for me to hear.

“Then let’s go, wife,” I say and pick her up, arms under her legs as I carried her all the way up to our room.

Another tradition y/n insisted on, was for me to carry her over the threshold of our room. I held onto her until I set her on the ground. Candles were lined everywhere, roses petals littered the bed, and music was softly playing. This hotel was really going all out for y/n and I and I couldn’t wait to take advantage of all it had to offer.

“Hey babe, can you help me with this zipper?” Y/N asked, turning her back to me so I could undo her dress.

I bring my hand up to reach the zipper right in the middle of her back and pulled it down slowly to show the lace panties she bought specially for tonight. The dress fell off her in one quick motion and she took the rest of her undergarments off. Turning to face me, her eyes stayed right on mine, and she almost looked angelic, much like some of my family members. I was surprised as many of my sisters and brothers showed up at the wedding but all left immediately after the ceremony. Y/N had gone to lay on the bed, moving the blankets and sheets out of the way and I stood, just watching her move. It was different seeing her naked before me as my wife than when we first slept together as just a couple. I was going to see her in this light all the time and it made the night, that much better. I walked over to her, hovering over her, and kissed her, my hands already going to work on her, hands running over her body and down to the places she was needing me the most. I got her completely ready before I had unclothed myself and joined her in bed. This time, was so much better than any other time and I loved it. The way our bodies moved with each other, fully becoming one, I cherished the moment but was pleased that I could do this for the rest of our lives. I get to love her every single day, both physically and mentally, and emotionally too. We were finally the same, destined to one another until our final breaths. As we both came down from our highs, we laid next to one another catching our breaths, before I looked over at her.

“I love you, wife,” I say, grinning like a madman.

“I love you, husband,” she says back and kisses me once more. I could get used to these new titles.

Tag List: @fandom-princess-forevermore @tloveswriting @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams @juju-la-tortue @thinkinghardhardlythinking @angeredcrow @to-my-beloved-fandoms-2 @markofdean79 @lilulo-12 @grace15ella @simpleb00x

#castiel #castiel angel of the lord #cas fanfic #castiel fluff #cas #castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel x y/n

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joeycupcakerichter · 3 years

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A letter he'll never read.

This is just going to be a incoherent mess of thoughts that I need to get out of my skull because otherwise they're going to drown me. so I'm gonna throw it under a read more and post it here so the thought can be out of my head and I can go back and reread whenever I start to feel like I'm losing control again.

Dear [him]

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know I've probably seemed obsessive and weird and I wish I could stop but I think writing this down, explaining it even though I know you'll never read it will help me process the feelings and move on.

I'm sorry it had to be you. I'm sorry that you were the one that caught me on a bad day and made me smile. I read too much into it. If I've ever made you uncomfortable in anyway, I'm so deeply sorry. There's some things that I think you need to understand about me that I think will help the two of us make sense of this and move forward.

My marriage was one built on trauma and distress. I was married to a man that loved the idea of me, not the person I truly was. He spent six years trying to shove me into a box that I didn't fit into, trying to make me into the girl he always wanted when he simply was not. It may sound ungrateful to say, but I was drowning in his attention but you have to understand that this was not the kind of attention anyone deserves. It was manipulative, it was guilt tripping, it was toxic in every sense of the word. He hated the things I loved and if he didn't start off initially hating them, he would quickly begin to hate them because they were associated with me. I know you're probably wondering what that has to with you and I promise I'm getting to it

The earliest date I have to tell you when this started was February 4, 2019. Yeah, you heard me right, two fucking years of this nightmare coping mechanism that you didn't ask to be a part of. February 4th was the day I created a playlist on Spotify because I was going to go to the gym. The first song on that playlist was Rev 22:20 by Puscifer because that's the song that every time I hear it, I think of you. The beginning of the song is enough to explain what I was feeling in that time.

Don't be aroused by my confession Unless you don't give a good goddamn about redemption I know Christ is comin', and so am I And you would too if this sexy devil caught your eye

I wanted you so badly. You represented everything that my current relationship lacked. You would give me attention, but only if I earned it. I was married at the time, so confessing my attraction to you would be something that you would have to not care if it sent you to hell. It was stupid, and I kept my mouth shut about it. I wasn't about to have an affair with you. I know I was already emotionally cheating on my husband, but I was not going to take the next step. I would just cling to this concoction of you I'd made in my head to cope with the misery that I was forcing myself to live with. It wasn't healthy and it DEFINITELY wasn't fair to you. You didn't ask to have someone develop an infatuation with you that you didn't want. I did my best to be cool and remember who the fuck I was but I know you knew. I deluded myself into thinking that you were interested, even if you couldn't pursue it. I think that made it worse.

Your trip and the jokes we made about it truly cemented this stupid ass infatuation into my brain. The thought of running away from my life with you haunted my dreams. In fact, there was one dream that I had that I still distinctly remember that plays in my head on repeat every now and then. We were at a party, you pulled me into the pantry and we were talking and you looked at me, confused, and said, "You know I like you, right?" I woke up immediately after, confused and with my heart pounding. This came shortly after you told me that your friend had backed out of the trip and you had an extra ticket, if I just got my passport. I didn't, of course, but I remember you telling me that I could sit next to you on the plane and rub your back as you puked into your airplane bag because you were afraid to fly.

I'm terrified that I sound insane and creepy and unsettling. I KNOW you were just kidding around but it was something I could cling to. It kept me alive when I was laying in bed staring out of my window wishing I had to courage to just jump. That was a lot to put on you but I comforted myself by reminding myself that you would never know. I would never ever cross the line of telling you how much that stupid little joke meant to me. You'll probably never know this, but you saved my life. And for that I can only thank you.

I'll never forget when you left, either.

I channeled the confusing feeling of loss and pain into a story that I'm still incredibly proud of. I won't bore you (or creep you out) with details, but you left two months after your trip and I did nothing but write. I wrote and I wrote and I wrote that pain away until I couldn't feel it anymore. It was gone. I fixed it all. I was fine. I barely thought about you. That initial hyperfixation was gone. You were gone.

Until you weren't.

A mutual friend told me that you were coming back and I thought my heart was going to erupt. That was when I stopped writing my story because I didn't need it anymore. You were coming back. I tried to remain casual, but that December when you were finally back, I could've wept with joy. It was sad, it was pathetic but you were back and everything was going to be fine. I had my coping mechanism back. We both know I can't help but look at you when you're near by. Even just a glimpse could make me smile. You were so soothing to me. You still are. It's illogical and it doesn't make sense, but whenever I talk to you, or even just see you I am simultaneously relieved and set on edge. I have to watch myself. I don't want you to know this creepy stalker narrative I'd unintentionally crafted. It wasn't even stalkery.

I didn't cross lines, I just wanted to talk to you, be around you somewhere that was an even playing field. I've only texted you when I absolutely had to. I couldn't bring myself to bother you. I put you up on a pedestal and didn't ask you for anything more. I wanted more, I craved that sweet validation but I wouldn't cross that line. We were work friends, if you could even call it that. We were coworkers that sat together on break all the time. Sometimes I would feel like maybe you could be interested but I would always reminded myself that just because I wanted you to be, didn't mean you were. I constantly kept myself in check. I barely even mentioned you to my friends and even when I did, you were the mediocre white guy at work. Hell, I still refer to you as that because I need to keep myself in check. You are not the end all be all of men. Believe me, I would let myself believe that if I didn't keep myself in check.

When the pandemic hit, you were gone again. I thought it was forever this time and I decided it would be okay. It had to be okay. I wasn't going back to work if you weren't going to be there and by all logic, you shouldn't have been. You were the reason I didn't hate my job. I liked talking to you for fifteen minutes at a time that much. It's silly, but it made everything better. I didn't need to date you. I didn't need to sleep with you. I just wanted you to be my friend and you had been. I thought that chapter was closed.

And then my husband left me. And I found out you were back again. Despite everything I'd figured, that you wouldn't go back for a third time, that you wouldn't even be able to, another mutual friend mentioned that you were back. And I was ready to run back into that hellhole's hateful arms to have you close and as my friend again. I couldn't talk to you outside of work, I didn't know what to say. I was scared it was going to come out wrong because things were different now. I was different now. I wasn't going to be married for much longer. I let myself stray into thinking maybe now could be different.

You gave my husband an instrument to fix and he left it and me here so I figured I could give it back to you, at the very least. I was gonna shoot my shot. "of course I remember you". Now I'm not sure if that was as flattering as I initially took it but you forgot and I cried. But I left you alone. If you had any of the same feelings I had, you wouldn't have. It was okay. You didn't have to match my energy. Mine was out of control and emotional, coming only a week after my husband left the state. I was a train wreck and I'm glad now that you didn't come pick it up. I would've embarrassed myself. I would've tried to tell you all of this to your face and it would've been a mess. It wasn't fair to you. It wasn't fair to me. I was in mourning, I was in shock. Just like most of the people I knew, you probably wouldn't have known what to say. What do you say to a woman who had been abandoned so easily and quickly? Awkward pity in my experience with people who weren't you. But I told you. You knew. That's all I wanted.

And now, I'm terrified that I'm becoming FAR too obvious. I wasn't subtle before, but I KNOW I'm not subtle now. I'm terrified of making you uncomfortable, or even worse, acting like Mandee. Becoming so overbearing and not picking up on vital social cues that would tell me that you didn't want me around. Every now and then, I'll forego sitting outside to sit with you but I won't do it every break. I don't want to seem like I won't leave you alone. I don't want to seem like a crazy woman who's obsessed with you. Maybe I still am, despite my best intentions, but I try so hard not to be. You don't owe me ANYTHING. And sometimes I get the vibes that I need to leave you alone so I do. And I resign myself to the fact that I ruined it because I couldn't keep my shit together.

My standards are so low right now, that you can talk to me first and I feel like maybe we could still be friends. Not a damn thing more than that. I can't stress that enough. Despite everything I've written here, it's not like I want you to sweep me off my feet and save me from everything. I just.... I want to be your friend. I want to actually know you other than anecdotal conversations.

I don't know how to finish this. It's pathetic, its cathartic and I just needed to get it out of me. I'm so tired of keeping it in and while I won't tell you, just writing it down helps. So thank you. Thank you for everything you don't know you've done for me. I'm sorry I let it go this far and get this... weird. Thank you again.

#nova trauma dumps #nova speaks #nova rants #tw: suicide mention #tw: suicidal ideation #ask to tag #if you were wondering where I get my Ted from this should give you a good idea #goddamn I wrote a lot about something that doesn't even matter #personal

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asbcblog · 3 years

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TOP SONGS OF 2020 WRITE UP!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6WDeuRMOV8neAhU2zd193d?si=lZ9gDIp0TsCCEOeCS7_QGw

1. I remember everything - John Prine

I was going to write an incredibly earnest and long review of this song that outlined just how much John Prine meant to me. I can’t really do it and I think this song probably says enough alone. With only a few chords he always manages to express all the little things that make love what it is, all different kinds of love. Long lasting, short moments, love with places, sounds, going places and staying home, endless family ties, and the often fragile but in the end tenable love between all human beings in the face of catastrophe. The pandemic stole a lot of things from a lot of people this year, including John Prine, but he will remain one of the greatest songwriters of all time and his songs will live on forever.

2. Dream Palette - Yves Tumor

I can’t drive but let’s pretend I’m driving, I’m in LA and it’s night time or something, my elbow’s out the window, don’t know why I’m wearing sunglasses, this song comes on the radio, I’m the coolest person alive.

3. Boylife in EU- Yung Lean

Not to repeat my review of Garden but when the chorus comes I feel like I’m on top of a really big hill and its pouring it down with rain and im screaming but this time its because of a no-deal Brexit.

4. Garden- Joseph Futak

My review was already used as part of Joe’s promo campaign and it said: “feel like im on top of a really big hill and its pouring it down with rain and I’m screaming when the drums come in x x”

5. Circle the Drain- Soccer Mommy

I like this song because I too, am often alone in my room, and I have also become obsessed with subtle breakbeats to an extent where people around me have become very bored of the subject.

6. The Brothers William Said- The Innocence Mission

I listened to this song over and over when I was travelling round London in January just after my birthday, it felt like I’d been listening to it for years, like it was in a movie I’d forgotten. It felt at the time like I was saying a lot of goodbyes, recognising that things weren’t really like they used to be.

7. On the Floor- Perfume Genius

Say it with me ladies: I CROSS OUT HIS NAME ON THE PAGE!!!!

8. Shameika- Fiona Apple

She may not believe it but I bet Fiona Apple looked tough with a riding crop.

9. Song for Our Daughter- Laura Marling

Everything about this is fantastic, mellow and bright at the same time. Every part is brought forward individually and no part of this song gets left behind. A stunning vocal from Laura Marling and purposeful lyrics set to a cinematically emotive instrumental. Pure magic as always.

10. Building site outside- Piglet

Not going to lie, I was in a very vulnerable emotional state when I listened to this song for the first time, but I think that makes it no less powerful and just, sad. The lyric ‘she smiled at me so much last time’ is just so simple and devastating that you forget this would’ve been on every indie film soundtrack from 2000-2008 if Piglet was an industry plant.

11. I wonder- Shamir

One word: EPIC

12. Crimson Tide- Destroyer

Listened to this every time I came on my period this year.

13. In the Dining Room - Joe Pera talks with you

Adam showed me Joe Pera when I really felt incredibly sad at the very beginning of this year. It’s a show that’s made me feel good, no matter the circumstances. This moment in the show made me smile, and I love hearing Gene come in a bit too early.

14. Stupid Love- Lady Gaga

Shakin my little booty in the kitchen to this x

15. Might bang, might not- Little Simz

Livid we didn’t all get to go to End of the Road and see all the hot dad’s loving Little Simz.

16. Fire- Waxahatchee

A truly insane vocal. I listened to this song on my way to work almost every day from September to December and fantasised singing back up at some kind of outdoor gig in the summer and it made everything significantly less bleak.

17. Hannah Sun- Lomelda

This song is too nice and genuine for me to say anything other than, “really lovely song :)”.

18. Scroll of Sorrow- Machine Girl, guayaba

Listened to this a lot this year while sitting on my kitchen floor staring into an empty oven, wondering if I was ever going to go to a party again.

19. Build a nest- Jeff and Ruby Parker

Have put this on in the flat because the guitar solo reminds me of everything my dad listens to at home. A really great piece of music that kicks off a really exciting album.

20. Kiss me thru the phone- That Kid

Ned said yesterday that he thought it was funny how much the original of this song is so foundational to hyper pop and I agree. Also I’ve started saying ‘Bitch’ like That Kid does every time I stub my toe.

21. Cuckoo- Sam Amidon

I am punting down a creek, looking in the branches that hang over the water for the bird that shall lead me to my next clue.

22. Places/ Plans- Skullcrusher

Used this song to comfort myself in moments where I also just don’t understand why I’m not famous.

23. Sweetjoy- Jam City

Finally….. HAIM for dudes.

24. Clean Living- Slow Weather

I saw someone listening to this on the side of my Spotify so I decided to give it a go and it was a fantastic decision. It’s mental that half of this song is an outro.

25. Summer All Over- Blake Mills

Along with the music video visuals and the dampened piano tone, this wins the competition for least summer-y song with the actual word summer in the title.

26. Ready Cheeky Pretty- CHAI

All of my joy this year has been brought to me by CHAI. I have nothing negative to say about CHAI. If you have anything negative to say about CHAI you’re gonna have to go through me.

27. Diaphanous- Land of Talk

This band was recommended to me by a guy I was trying to flirt with at rough trade east but everything closed before I could impress him by saying ‘I think they’re really cool’.

28. Anything - Adrianne Lenker

Anyone who has ever attempted to write a song with me knows how much I simply love rhyming. Seriously though, every thing rhymes, brilliant stuff. (It’s also such a brilliantly full and constant song that still manages to move and remain exciting from start to finish. I imagine this is partially due to Adrianne Lenker’s almost nursery rhyme- esque structure and also due to her beautifully colloquial approach to family dynamics.)

29. Blow- Dj Gigola, Kev Koko

This song makes me wish I was Jason Bourne- just wanna jump really far while something explodes behind me.

30. Money Can’t Buy- Yaeji, Nappy Nina

‘Well I’ll buy some Yaeji tickets, they’re for NOVEMBER, there’s NO WAY they’re gonna get cancelled’.

31. Only the Truth- Johanna Warren

When I first listened to this song I felt like I was floating in the ocean looking up at the stars as the drums came in on ‘what more can I do’. An incredibly beautiful and careful song.

32. Gasoline- Haim

2020 could probably be summarised with the phrase ‘WHY AM I NO LONGER IN CALIFORNIA? WHY DID I LEAVE CALIFORNIA?’ And this song is the 3 minutes 13 seconds seconds of escapism I needed to not topple into a full spiral.

33. Mapuu - Ic3peak

No one can convince me that Ic3peak are real people. They are a collective made up of child ghosts.

34. Don’t Worry- Bladee

Whenever I have an anxiety attack in the night I wake up and see Bladee’s ghost of the future over my bed, he says ‘Don’t worry’ and mumbles for a bit as I fall back into a peaceful sleep.

35. The biggest tits in history- The magnetic fields

The most relatable magnetic fields song imo.

36. Sand Castle- nijuu

Yujin is a genius and my answer is yes, I do want to just walk for a while.

37. Curl Up- Darren Hayman

Ned reminded me how much I used to love Darren Hayman, and both of them have been a pretty big part of my year.

38. When Will Death Come- Sarah Mary Chadwick

‘Wow, mental voice’ - Ned, while doing the washing up.

39. Dear Dad - Sylvie Wiley

‘But I didn’t cry, you’d be proud’ Sylvie, I’m weeping forever.

40. 34+35- Ariana Grande

Hehehehehehehehehe

41. Garden Song- Phoebe Bridgers

Phoebe Bridgers is a pretty unparalleled lyricist and this song feels like a disconnected series of thoughts that somehow all make sense together and come to create something that doesn’t build, but all just kind of sits? What I’m trying to say is that I don’t really know what she’s talking about but like, I get it.

42. Ringtone (remix) - 100 gecs, Charli xcx, Kero Kero Bonito, Rico Nasty,

I love the way it sounds like everyone got just one take and had to improvise all the lyrics but it still bangs.

43. Changer- Andy Shauf

Thank you lord for another album about a smaller than average man overthinking all of his social interactions with lots of lovely clarinet parts.

44. What’s your pleasure - Jessie Ware

My pleasure jessie? Probably just sitting by the fire with a tough crossword and a glass of merlot x

45. Slime- Shygirl

Shygirl’s series of singles this year made me even more livid that I had to take out my eyebrow piercing for my new job this year.

46. Sears Tower- Salem

Perfect halloween release.

47. Title track- happyness

Ned turned to me and said: ‘so is their new thing that they sound like Elliot Smith’ and I said: ‘and that’s a bad thing?’

48. Cross-sound ferry (walk on ticket) - Hamilton Leithauser

Have found unbelievable joy in chopping veg and shouting GREEEEEEEN PORT, NEEEEEEWWWW YOOORK alone in my kitchen.

49. Lowswimmer- Hailaker

I’ve loved hearing Jemima’s voice when I haven’t got to see her much this year. I normally take the piss out of the Hambledon line but I haven’t seen that this year really either. I guess we find sentimentality in strange places.

50. XS - Rina Sawayama

This song made me feel very decadent on those days where I didn’t wash.

51. Emily- Clem Snide

Let’s be more kind and brave in the face of it all.

52. Building a fire- Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy

P.O.V you’re doing bushcraft in the garden with your husband Bonnie Prince Billy and he’s here to protect you.

53. Asexual Wellbeing- Okay Kaya

This song absolutely bangs but I am truly bewildered by the way they singled out the line ‘if they could put a pulse into a spinach leaf, can they turn the two of us into a tree?’ in the production as if that was a true piece of genius. As I say great tune tho.

54. Anthems- Charli xcx

The soundtrack to couch to 5k

55. Never Better- Kitty Fitz

A SE London queen bringing us huge pop tunes in 2020. So so excited to see what 2021 brings us from Kitty, she’s gonna be a real force!

56. Deep in Love- Bonny Light Horsemen

This is such a delightful song which (mainly due to the time I actually got around to listening to the whole record) for me really rang in the spring. A beautifully recorded testament to the feeling of love getting stronger meaning you have a lot more to lose.

57. Malibu- Kim Petras

My song of the summer, made me feel like I was at the beach when really I was in Lewisham.

58. Like I’m Winning it- Girlpool

I’m so delighted that the turn girlpool have made this year is towards dramatic goth music with breakbeats. Their voices both sound amazing and they look simply incredible.

59. Azad- Frazey Ford

I have no idea what she’s saying as always but I love it.

60. Helio- Charlotte Dos Santos

I’m literally so excited for what Charlotte Dos Santos is gonna put out next. The production is fantastic and her aesthetics are flawless.

61. Lost in the Country- Trace Mountains

‘I checked my email twice as I cried’. Safe to say we’ve all been there this year amirite girlies x

62. Unfold You- Rostam

I hated this at first, I thought, what’s this lo-fi beats to study to shit, but it’s now my classic ‘I’m just gonna pop to the shops, anyone want anything? x’ song. Huge.

63. Oh Yeah- A.G cook

One of 2020s realisations is that me and A.G Cook kind of look like we could be cousins.

64. Can’t cool me down- Car Seat Headrest

I would like to personally thank will Toledo for giving me a tune that got me off my ass when I was too warm to do exercise this summer.

65. Take back the radio- Katy J Paerson

In love with Katy J Pearson’s voice and the way this song builds. Just pretty flawless and feel good in my opinion. I think she’s such an exciting new artist who’s gonna be around for a very very long time.

66. Good Woman- The Staves

‘I’m a good woman’… speak for yourselves.

67. A Little Love- Jack Francis

Feel like I’ve been singing this song for about 5 years! It’s amazing and I’m so excited about what Jack’s going to bring out in 2021, he’s a genius and also the nicest man on the planet.

68. Lullaby No.4 - Snailbeach

This song makes me feel like I’m being hypnotised on a haunted carousel in a very relaxing way.

69. Boyfriend in every city- Roma Radz

Sucks that she can’t see any of her boyfriends cos of covid :(

70. Jaja ding dong- Will Ferrell

Get back in there and play Jaja Ding Dong !!!!

71. Highway- Jonatan leandoer96

Man, would be pretty sick to have 20 boys outside the club but alas the clubs are dead and I’ve only regularly texted about 4 people this year.

72. De nadie- Kali Uchis

Felt v sexy listening to this for the first time in a Morley’s in Honor Oak.

73. Weird Fishes- Lianne La Havas

This album was a pretty triumphant return for Lianna La Havas and me teenage self simply couldn’t be happier.

74. Micro Creature- Aya Gloomy

Love that despite everything about this song telling me otherwise, that the artwork for this single looks like Aya Gloomy is just chilling in the fields by my family home in Hampshire.

75. Si Ella Sale- Bad Bunny

Better get on the duolingo now if I’m gonna know what this guy’s saying at Porto next year.

76. Through my sails- Mountain Man

Truly gentle reimagining of an already incredibly beautiful song, mountain man make every word seem new!

77.Christmas Day (get me outta this funk) - Baggio and Blue 5 Years- Bath days

In joint 77th place are two banging Christmas songs that have soundtracked a pretty bleak Christmas period and have made me feel pretty joyous in their ways, despite one literally being called Blue Five Years.

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sweetpea-sprite · 4 years

Note

13 for the angst, love your writing btw ^u^

“haha hey guys taking prompts :) will probably be really short haha :)” [writes 1400 words]

you didn’t specify a character/ship (which i did not say was a thing you could do because i forgot but for anyone reading this you can do that if you want lmao) so i chose esther because i love her and she doesn’t have enough development

i’ll probably post this on ao3 too? so look out for that

(ALSO THANK YOU ILY2)

(ALSO also my playlist decided to play hug all ur friends by cavetown as i was writing this and i nearly started sobbing. for the full experience please listen to that while reading)

edit: lol i put it under a read more because it was annoying me having to scroll through it i’m sorry

13. “If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”

It’s been… a day.

Between Oliver still being comatose when the day began, to fighting Vileheart for the second time (without Oliver, mind you), to Oliver waking up and defeating Vileheart with a new spell and a vengeance, Esther thinks she can safely say she hasn’t had this much emotional tax since the day her father tried to fight Shadar, who had subsequently decided to pay her a visit. The hardships aren’t over yet, however. They still have to trek through the Miasma Marshes for a second time, then it’s to Nevermore to defeat the Dark Djinn himself.

Oliver, having just woken from a coma (in which he found out his mom is dead forever) had been anxious to get going, even suggesting they start the journey the very next day. Esther doesn’t understand it, and clearly neither do Swaine and Drippy, seeing as they immediately help her to shut that idea down. They’re having at least one rest day, preferably a few. Oliver pouts, but otherwise doesn’t complain.

The Cat’s Cradle gives them a free room with three beds, and though Oliver is confused, the others take it with a sighed “thank you”. News of Oliver’s condition had spread quickly considering how tiny Perdida is, and after a week of staying there you get to know the townspeople, including the innkeeper, just a little. Swaine takes the bed nearest the door, Oliver the one next to his, and Esther takes the one on the opposite side of the room. Drippy, who had stolen a cushion from the inn lobby, throws it onto Oliver’s bed as Oliver tosses his bag in a corner. All of them start to settle in, lying on top of their beds quietly.

Five minutes of awkward silence later, Oliver sits up from where he was leafing through his Wizard’s companion without actually reading it, slamming the book shut and making everyone jump. “I’m going for a walk,” he says shortly, moving to do just that. Drippy moves from his cushion to follow, but Oliver turns around and stops him. “Mr. Drippy, you look exhausted,” he says softly. “I’ll be fine.” The two of them have a slight stare off before Drippy grumbles to himself and lies back down.

Oliver is almost out the door when Esther sits up too. “I’ll come with you,” she says decidedly, and Oliver turns to tell her what he told Drippy, but wilts under her gaze.

“Okay,” he says defeatedly, and Esther shuffles off of her bed and follows him out. Swaine says nothing, but watches them leave out of one eye. Drippy seems more relaxed with Esther going as well, and turns over just as she leaves.

They leave the inn in silence, the sun beginning to set over Perdida, giving them a pink-orange backdrop. Not as many people are out as before, and the two walk in an awkward silence through town, not quite sure where they’re going. “So,” Oliver starts, quietly. “…How are you?”

Esther’s quiet for a moment, before bursting into giggles. “How am I?” she says, between laughter, “I’m not the one who just got out of a magical coma.”

Oliver glances up at her, and smiles. “I guess not,” he says, laughing slightly along with her. “But… I did miss a week. Did anything interesting happen?”

Esther hums. She has to think about it, seeing as most of the past week had been filled with sobbing, and she doubts that’ll lighten the mood. “I learned a new song,” she says. “Raises defense.” Refrain, it’s called. She doesn’t tell Oliver why she learned it, of course. If Swaine had been punching a few walls while he had been out, that wasn’t her business. Making Swaine’s hands hurt less with every punch had been something she had been able to do to help, and god, had she needed it then.

“That’s really great, Esther!” Oliver says, beaming up at her. “I… know we’re all pretty tired,” Understatement, Esther thinks, “but show it to me tomorrow?”

“Sure!” Esther says, grinning. It’s like Oliver was never gone. “Oh! I thought of another thing. The other day, there was a visitor from Hamelin.”

“Really?” Oliver’s eyes widen.

“Mhm! It wasn’t Marcassin, but he sent his regards. He’s never been to Perdida, so he couldn’t cast Travel, and he had duties to attend to… Oh, and-”

They continue chatting as they walk out of town, Oliver of course waving to the guard as they go by, mostly about nothing, Esther catching Oliver up on the things he’d missed (which wasn’t much, considering the past week was her, Drippy, and Swaine realising how much their life had begun to revolve around Oliver), and for a moment it almost seemed like he’d never left.

…For a moment.

They sit on the grass near the edge of the cliff, near where Esther had found Swaine just that morning. There’s an area of the grass near them that’s been scuffed up from their fight with Vileheart, which Esther decides to ignore. Unfortunately, she only manages to do so for so long.

Oliver laughs. Oliver laughs, and it’s so stupid, but Esther hasn’t heard him laugh in what feels like years. Hasn’t even heard his voice in what feels like years. She’s just watched him as he laid perfectly, deathly still, not shifting an inch.

“Esther?” Oliver says, causing her to look at him. “What’s wrong?” he asks, and she wonders how he can say that when he’s… alive. She’s been staring at his still as a statue face for the past week, letting the hours tick by. She had almost forgotten what shade of blue his eyes were, and now that they’re open and awake and bright… it’s too much.

She attempts to swallow past the lump in her throat, and doesn’t succeed. “I’m fine,” she says, and winces at how pathetic her voice sounds.

Oliver shakes his head. “No you’re not. What’s wrong?”

Esther takes a moment to pull herself slightly more together, then says, “I just… you’re here.” She almost laughs at Oliver’s confused face. “You’re alive. You’re awake. I… we didn’t know if…” She sniffles, and sincerely hopes the implication was clear, because she doesn’t think she can keep talking.

The first tear falls from Esther’s eye and drops down onto her hands, bunched in her lap.

“Esther…” Oliver murmurs. “I… I’m sorry…” Esther lets out a choked laugh, inhaling as she tries to stop the tears from coming. He’s sorry? He isn’t the one having a breakdown because he’s back from the possible dead.

“Oliver,” Esther says, when she gets the slightest moment to breathe, “If you don’t hug me right now, I think I might fall apart.” As if she hasn’t already fallen apart, as if she isn’t currently falling apart.

Oliver immediately moves and wraps his arms around Esther, who hugs back with a vengeance as she starts actively sobbing, because Oliver is alive, and you’d think after repeating it so much it would become less remarkable, but somehow it hasn’t. Esther hugs Oliver tighter, and he returns it, shifting in order to hug her easier. They stay like that until Esther’s sobs turn into breathy sniffles.

“I…” Oliver sounds choked up as well as he speaks into Esther’s shoulder, sniffling slightly. “I’m not gonna die. I’m gonna… I’ll be here for as long as you need me,” he says, and Esther doesn’t like how he avoids saying forever, wondering what that means. She ignores it as she blubbers into Oliver’s shoulder.

“Promise?” she says shakily.

“…Promise,” Oliver murmurs, pulling away and facing Esther.

Esther realises Oliver’s crying too, though to a lesser extent than her. He smiles through his tears, eyebrows bunched together, and laughs quietly, sadly. He sniffs. “I swear to… to stay with you guys for as long as you need me.”

“…Yeah?” Esther says, ignoring the wording again. “You… you will?” She knows she already got a promise, but she really needs to hear it again.

“Yeah.”

“…Okay.”

Oliver moves back to sitting beside Esther, leaning his head on her shoulder. She leans back, and they watch as the sun moves below the horizon, and the sky gets darker. “We should probably go back to the inn soon,” Esther murmurs, and Oliver hums in agreement, but neither of them move to do so.

They eventually stumble back as the sky turns to twilight, and if Swaine and Drippy notice their tear tracks, they don’t say anything.

#ni no kuni #ni no kuni: wrath of the white witch #ni no kuni oliver #ni no kuni esther #ruby's art #writing prompts #hmm am i putting this in my estiver tag?#sure why not #estiver #oliver #esther

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39hystericalqueens · 5 years

Text

It’s A Hard Life (Brian May x Reader) Chapter 1

This series was written alongside a companion playlist. Each song on the playlist is related to a certain scene or moment within the story and while this fic can 100% be read without the playlist, it adds so much to the story to listen along as you read. Throughout this series, you will see numbers in parentheses within the text. Each number corresponds to a track on the playlist. For example, if you saw: (1), this would mean play the first track on the playlist before continuing on reading. Some of the songs serve to set the mood, some correspond with a song that is actually playing in the story, and some tell part of the story better than I can and so they help to drive the plot. I will say again that you don’t need the playlist to understand and enjoy this fic but I strongly recommend at least checking it out.

MASTERLIST

Chapter 1

Warnings: Some swearing

A/N: It’s finally here! The first chapter of my Brian May x Reader fic, It’s A Hard Life. I worked really hard on this so I hope you all enjoy! Additionally, I don’t have a taglist yet so if you like what you read please message me and I’ll be sure to tag you in all future installments.

Word Count: 4.8k (she’s a long first chapter)

October 1969

*beep beep beep*

It never ceased to amaze you how jarring the sound of your alarm clock could be. Loud and unrelenting, it was especially obnoxious this morning because it signaled one thing: the beginning of the week. Grudgingly, you rolled over to check the time.

6:45 AM

Ugh. In an hour you’d have to be in class, and not just any class. Professor Wesham’s Intermediate Music Theory course was taught at 8am sharp every morning five days a week. Professor Wesham was a rather vile man with a love for discipline, trick questions, and embarrassing his students in front of the rest of the class. He had no interest in being a professor and mentioned that at any moment he saw fit. Rather, he believed that music theory was a subject that very few could teach correctly, and so it was his duty as a musician to impart those teachings upon young students, no matter how much he hated it. If you could have you would have dropped his class after the first week, but for a degree in music performance, all levels of theory were required.

You looked over at the clock again.

7:02 AM

C’mon Y/N, gonna have to get up sooner or later.

With quite a bit of effort, you finally pulled yourself up and out of bed and into the first pair of jeans you saw lying on the floor.

(1)

____

“...so when we’re looking to find a mode of a scale we can look to the intervals for the answers. Each mode has its own unique combination of whole tones and semitones, so if you know the patterns you can accurately alter the scale…”

As expected, class that morning was hellish. A thirty-minute lecture on the basics of modes followed by another twenty minutes of history and you found yourself slowly drifting back to sleep. Your thoughts were soon taken over by memories of being curled up in bed this morning and fantasies of what you would be eating for lunch in a few hours.

Maybe spaghetti? Or soup? I could really go for soup today. With luck they’ll have that creamy tomato one that I love down at the cafe...

“Miss Y/L/N?!” Professor Wesham’s voice rang out through the lecture hall

Shit.

“Miss Y/L/N I asked you a question, but it appears as though you can’t be bothered to pay attention to what I’m saying this morning. Have you heard a word of what I’ve said?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but nothing came out.

“That’s what I thought. Can anyone else answer my question? Anyone at all? Or are you all just going to sit there and stare at me like a bunch of deadbeats?!”

Silence filled the hall and for a moment it seemed as though he was about to give up and move on when suddenly he yelled,

“Susie! What is the C Mixolydian scale?”

From the back of the hall, a faint voice answered,

“It’s the 5th mode of the F major scale, it follows the Mixolydian interval pattern of whole whole semi whole whole semi whole, and the notes are C D E F G A and B flat.”

“Correct.”

And with that, he moved on forward with the lesson.

I could have answered that, you thought to yourself, all the bastard needed to do was repeat himself.

You sighed and silently took notes for the rest of the period.

When class let out you made a beeline for the door, hurrying out of the building and down towards the green commons in front. You didn’t stop walking until you saw the sign for The Cafe. Located right in the center of the music department, The Cafe was your go-to spot. Coffee and pastries in the mornings, sandwiches and soup for lunch, and full-on dinner seven nights a week. Although technically open to the general public, the music students at Ealing had claimed the place for themselves long ago, and you had never seen it empty in your entire time at the college. Today was no exception. You pushed your way in and headed straight for the counter to order.

“One creamy tomato soup please,” you said to the woman at the counter, and with your table number in hand, you found a small booth in the corner and collapsed into it.

It had been a particularly difficult week for you. The new term just started a few weeks ago and already your professors were piling on work. Theory worksheets, composition assignments, and three new solos had all been handed to you in the past few weeks, and it wouldn’t have been so bad if you didn’t also have a job that demanded long shifts late at night. You worked at Selmer’s, the music store in town and, due to your schedule, almost exclusively worked the night shifts from 6 until closing at midnight. It wasn’t a bad gig by any means, in fact you really liked working there. You never knew who would walk through the door. One moment it would be a broke uni student popping in to buy new guitar strings and the next it could be a famous musician like Pete Townshend. Okay so maybe not Pete Townshend, but you had once sold Jim McCarty a set of drumsticks. It was your one claim to fame.

As you ate your soup you enjoyably became lost in your own thoughts, so much so that you didn’t notice when someone sat down across from you.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?”

The voice of your best friend Freddie interrupted your quiet contemplation. You loved him to death but sometimes he really had the worst timing.

The story of how you two met was actually quite funny. It was back in September of last year, the beginning of your first year of uni. The night before classes were set to start you had gone to a party and somehow ended up right in the middle of a game of truth or dare, only the rules had been altered slightly so that anyone who chose truth also had to take a shot. Being the relatively shy person that you were, you hadn’t taken many dares and as a result found yourself to be rather drunk.

“Alright c’mon Y/N,” said a guy named Greg (he was in your year and studying music as well) “you can’t pick truth forever.”

“Ok fine, dare”

“I dare you,” Greg continued, “to make out with Freddie.” He gestured to a man who appeared to be just as drunk as you were sitting across the circle. He laughed and said,

“Whenever you’re ready darling, I’ll just be over here waiting.” With a roll of your eyes toward Greg, you had crawled your way across the circle, straddled Freddie’s lap, and started to viciously make out with him to the best of your abilities in your drunken state.

The next morning you had woken up wickedly hungover and as you walked down the street to find something for breakfast you had bumped into none other than Freddie from the night before. He had laughed at the state of both of you (“we need to make sure that neither one of us ever drinks that much again!”) and offered to take you out to breakfast and the rest was history. It was definitely an odd way to start a friendship, but you two found that you just clicked together. His outspoken nature balanced out your tendencies to sink back into the shadows, and your level-headedness counteracted his love of making decisions on a whim. It really was, at least you two thought so, the perfect friendship.

“Hello? Y/N? Is anyone home in there?” Freddie continued as you looked up from your food.

“Hey Fred,” you said, coming to terms with the fact that your time for quiet contemplation was over. “What brings you down here? I thought you had a class way at the other end of campus this morning.”

“I did. And then I decided that I was feeling a bit peckish and could go for a bowl of The Cafe’s famous tomato soup, even if it is all the way on the other side of school. But this worked out perfectly, me running into you here, because I have something important to tell you!”

He dramatically reached his hands out and motioned for you to take them in yours.

“You know I have been following this band called Smile around for ages.”

You nodded.

“And you know I’ve been begging you to come out and see one of their shows with me”

Once again you nodded. At least once a month (if not more) Freddie would try and drag you along to one of their shows despite your efforts to tell him that rock concerts really weren’t your thing.

“Well recently I’ve started to hang around with them properly, them being the band, and we’ve become rather close. You and I both know Tim of course but it’s the other band members that I’ve really started to click with. We’re even talking about getting a flat together. They still won’t let me sing in the band, but that’s an issue for another day. What I need to tell you is that they’re playing a free gig tomorrow night right here at Ealing and you and I are both going!”

You opened your mouth to protest but Freddie kept talking.

“And don’t even try to get out of this one. I know for a fact that on Tuesdays you only work until 7, and I also know that you don’t have plans afterward because yesterday on the phone you expressed to me just how boring your week was going to be. So unless within the last 24 hours you have made plans to go out late on a Tuesday night after work, you have no excuse not to go with me to this.”

You stared back at him in disbelief.

“Alright Fred, you got me fair and square. I will go with you tomorrow,”

“Excellent!” he exclaimed, “I’ll be at Selmer’s to pick you up from work at 7 PM sharp tomorrow. Oh, this is going to be so fun!”

“Sounds like a plan,” and then you added, “And just because I’m going this time it doesn’t mean you’ll get me to go next time.”

“Fair enough,” Freddie said, “but you’re going to have so much fun tomorrow night that I won’t even have to ask you to go with me again.”

And with that he sprung up and made his way over to the counter to order some food, leaving you alone to wonder what on earth you had gotten yourself into.

——

The store was surprisingly slow for a Tuesday evening. Two hours into your shift and only three people had come in, and all within ten minutes of each other. To kill time you had started reorganizing the reed display, but quickly lost interest and for the past hour and a half you had simply been sitting behind the counter, listening to the old rock n roll music that played in the background, and thinking about nothing in particular.

(2)

🎵Without her I will be in misery (oh oh oh)

In misery (ooh ooh ooh)

My misery (la la la la la la) 🎵

As the song came to a close you heard the bell over the door jingle, alerting you that someone had just walked through the door. You craned your neck around the counter to see a guy with long dirty blond hair looking around frantically as though he had lost something.

“Hi,” you said, “Welcome to Selmer’s, can I help you find anyth-“

“Guitar strings!” he nearly shouted, “I need guitar strings!”

“Okay,” you said slowly, “do you have any idea as to which type of strings?”

“Oh shit...uh, I don’t know. The normal kind I guess? I just need strings!” he once again looked around frantically, eyes finally settling on the clock on the wall behind you. “Shit! I’m so going to be late!”

“Ok slow down a second,” you said calmly, “what’s all the hurry about? What, are you about to go onstage any second now?” You had meant it as a joke but to your surprise, he screamed,

“Yes!”

“Oh shit sorry I didn’t actually think you were- ok, um, so you don’t know the type of string but do you know what model the guitar is?”

“It’s uh...oh dammit I don’t know.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but what kind of guitarist doesn’t know the kind of guitar they play?”

“I’m not the guitarist,” he said, “I’m the drummer. Our guitarist broke a string like ten minutes ago so I ran out to grab him more while he helped the rest of our band keep setting up.”

“Ah, I see,” you said. “Well since you don’t know which kinds of strings he uses I’ll just give you some Fender 12 gauges. They’re pretty standard, I’ve got a lot of people who use them so hopefully that should be ok.”

“Yeah, those should be alright.”

You rang up the package and handed it to him.

“Thank you so much, you just saved our show.”

“My pleasure,” you said as you handed him the strings, “I hope these will work out for you guys tonight, and if not, well then you didn’t buy them here.”

He laughed at your comment.

“You’re funny,” he said. “Normally I would stay around and chat, maybe ask for your number, but I do kind of have to be going or else my bandmates will have my head on a spike. But it was great to meet you…uh….”

“Y/N,” you answered his unspoken question.

“Great to meet you Y/N, I’m Roger.” Is all he said before turning on his heel and sauntering out through the doorway. You could tell he was trying to maintain a cool, laid back composure despite having burst through your door in a panic not ten minutes prior. You laughed to yourself, wondering if you would ever see him again.

Looking at the clock you saw that it was eight till 7. Freddie would be here any minute. You got right to work closing up the store for the night. You were right in the middle of locking the window display cases when once again you heard the bell over the door ring.

“Hello darling I hope you’re ready for a concert!” Freddie’s melodious voice sang out.

“Hey Fred, just give me two more minutes and I’ll be ready to go,” you replied.

“I have been absolutely restless all day today thinking about tonight,” Freddie continued, “We are going to have so much fun!”

He made his way over to the counter and leaned against it, facing your back. “I really think you’re going to like their music,” he continued, “they’ve got a very real sound, none of that formulaic clean-cut bullshit.”

“I told you, Freddie,” you said, turning around to face him, “I make no promises as to whether or not I’ll like them. But they do sound quite lovely from the way you describe them.”

With that, you shut off all the lights, lock up the doors, and the two of you were on your way.

____

The concert was being held in the student center at Ealing, right in the middle of the campus. On a normal day the large open room was typically used for fundraisers, game nights, and a variety of other student-run activities, but every now and then the school would allow bands to put on shows. As you walked through the door you were immediately overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people packed into the room. All the tables and chairs had been pushed to the sides making it so it was barely possible to sit down, though there were a few people who had managed to squeeze themselves into a seat. You were about to follow their lead, your eyes fixed on an empty table close to the back, but Freddie grabbed you by the arm and pulled you both up to the very front.

“Do we really have to be this close, Fred? I can hear just as well from back there,” you said, gesturing towards the table you had so lovingly had your eye on.

“Darling we’re seeing a rock concert, not the symphony, it’s not just about being able to hear them. Watching them play and being right up in the middle of things is all part of the experience.”

You looked at him rather quizzically.

“Alright, but if I get my ears blown out tonight it’s your fault.”

“That’s the spirit! Now I’m going to go and get us both something to drink. I’ll be right back.”

As you watched your friend disappear into the crowd of students you turned to focus your attention on the stage in front of you. They had taken the small stage that permanently stayed in the back of the student center and never usually saw anything more exciting than experimental theater pieces put on by the drama students, and had completely transformed it into something out of a whimsical fever dream. Brightly colored metallic fabrics had been draped over the dingy, dust-filled curtain that hung behind the stage. In the center of the stage sat a drum kit with a giant red-lipped smile on the bass drum. To the side, there were two guitars on stands, a pretty standard bass guitar, which you recognized as Tim’s, and a guitar which you had never seen the likes of before. It was a bright cherry red color with a black pickguard and it was oddly round in shape. You had been working at a well-stocked music store for nearly two years now and had never seen any guitar that remotely resembled it before. To top it all off you saw that they had covered the lights facing the stage with different colored translucent films, further adding to the whimsical ambiance.

You know, this actually seems like it’s going to be a lot of fun. Dammit, Fred, why’d you have to be right.

You shook your head to yourself and began to look around to see if you could see Freddie anywhere when suddenly everyone started clapping.

The band was making its way onstage. On bass, there was Tim Staffell. He went to Ealing, studying graphic design, and was a good friend of Freddie’s. The three of you often went out together for drinks. You then looked over to see the man behind the drum kit and couldn’t believe what you saw. Sitting there was Roger, the guy you had sold guitar strings to mere hours ago.

“Ha!” You said aloud.

“What’s so funny?” Interjected Freddie, who had just appeared next to you holding two beers.

“I know the drummer,” you said.

“You know Roger?”

“Yeah,” you continue, chuckling, “I sold him guitar strings a few hours ago. He was in a right panic about it. Apparently, their guitarist broke one earlier and didn’t have any extras on hand.”

“Brian didn’t have any extra strings on him? That must have really caused a panic, I don’t think Brian has ever forgotten anything in his entire life.”

“I’m assuming Brian is the guitarist?”

“Yeah, and he’s bloody brilliant at it. There he is right there.” Freddie pointed to the man standing on the right of the stage. He was incredibly tall and lanky, with a head full of unruly curly brown hair and deep brown eyes. He was wearing black pinstriped trousers and a white top which he had accessorized with the most interesting looking fuzzy vest. He exuded the most peculiar combination of confidence and recluse, and as he stood there fiddling with his guitar you couldn’t help but think he was the most beautiful person you had ever seen.

You turned to say something to Freddie, but before you could get any words out Tim had started talking into the microphone.

“Hello Ealing!” He shouted. He was met with a resounding chorus of cheers and whoops from the crowd. “We are Smile!” More cheers. “You all know me, I’m Tim Staffell, over there on guitar we have Brian May, and back there on the drums is Roger Taylor. We’ve got a good set for you tonight, all originals except for a few, and we’re going to start with a song called Step On Me.”

At once they struck up an upbeat tune and it didn’t take long for the audience to start dancing and singing along with them.

(3)

🎵Know what I said when I saw you crying

Hang on that’s folly

I was weak in the head out to meet your lying

You’re just a bad memory

My life was going to be better

My why did I never ever see she’d step on me🎵

As you listened to them sing you couldn’t help but nod and dance along with the rest of the audience. Fred was right again, they really did have a sound the likes of which you had never heard before. Not only were their harmonies perfectly in tune, but they had an almost angelic quality to them that pulled you in, wanting to hear more.

“Well now look who’s actually having a good time,” Freddie said to you as they finished their first song. I knew you would like them.

“They really are something else,” you said, “although I would probably like them even more if I weren’t surrounded by so many people right now.”

Freddie laughed.

“I guess I’ll have to talk to Tim about getting you a private show then.”

They went from song to song, each one more enjoyable than the last, and while you tried to keep your attention from wavering, you kept finding yourself drawn to Brian the guitarist. Freddie hadn’t been lying when he said that Brian was bloody brilliant at what he did. You watched him easily play his way through several guitar solos, making them sound effortless, though with your musical knowledge (and by the look on his face) you could tell that they were anything but that. He played with a look of concentration on his face, never wavering except for the few times he looked up and out into the crowd. It was then, you noticed, that a small smile would cross his face.

All too soon Tim was at the microphone again, announcing that this would be their last song. You felt as if you could continue to listen to their music for hours and wished to yourself that the show wasn’t over yet.

“You all have been such a great crowd tonight,” Tim went on, “and so to finish we’re going to be bringing you everyone’s favorite: Doing Alright!”

If you thought you had liked the songs they had played the rest of the night, then you loved this one. It started out with a slow ballad, complete with more complex guitar work, but as it went on it morphed into hard rock with grit and feeling. You thought the juxtaposition of the two styles was a daring choice seeing as it would be easy to mess up, but they did it with such grace and style so that it completely worked. When the song finally came to a close and the band took their bows you joined in with the thunderous applause and cheering.

“Fred, I’ve got to say it: I really did enjoy myself tonight. It was a little loud and crowded for my liking but I think the music and the show were able to make up for it, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll come with you again.”

“Oh that’s wonderful darling! I knew tonight was going to be a success. But it’s not quite over yet.”

“No?”

“Of course not! You didn’t think you were going to get away without meeting the band, also known as my new friends. C’mon, they’re probably around somewhere outside packing up.”

You and Freddie fought your way through the crowds of students to get to the door and out into the night air. As Freddie had said, you found Tim and Roger sitting on the back of a van which you could see was full up of their equipment. Brian was nowhere in sight.

“Freddie! So glad you could make it!” Exclaimed Roger, standing up. “And,” he turned to you, “I don’t believe it. Y/N from the music store, why on earth didn’t you tell me you were coming to the show tonight?”

“Mostly because I had no idea this was your band,” you replied, laughing. “Freddie here has been after me to see and meet you guys for ages.”

“And,” said Roger, “what do you think?”

“Coming from someone who doesn’t tend to enjoy rock concerts, I thought you guys were wonderful. I did not expect to enjoy myself tonight as much as I did. I think you’ve really got something special here.”

“You flatter us too much,” said Tim, “if you keep talking like that we’re all gonna get big heads. And Roger’s is big enough as is.”

“Hey!” said Roger, but he smiled.

“So,” you continue, “Freddie said you guys are thinking about getting a flat together?”

“Yeah, Brian and I found this place up the road a little, Brian’s our guitarist by the way,” said Roger.

At the mention of his name, you could feel your heart flutter slightly in your chest.

“Freddie mentioned him,” you said, “Did the strings end up working out for him?”

“I thought they were fine, but Bri gets particular about these things. I guess they were the wrong brand or gauge or something like that. He kept going on about how he was going to sound awful tonight and his sound was going to be too abrasive.”

“Well yes, different strings are going to give you different sounds and I don’t know what he usually uses, but you guys sounded just great to me.”

Part of you desperately wanted to ask where he was right now, but you decided against it.

Against your better judgment, you had let Freddie convince you to stay around and talk with him, Tim, and Roger for a while longer. In that time you learned that Roger was studying to be a dentist at London Hospital Medical School, and Brian was over at the Imperial College studying, as Roger put it, “some sort of space physics.”

“He’s real into all that,” Roger continued, “but I can’t say the same for myself. I get good marks and all that, professors think I have a lot of ‘promise’, whatever that means, but a dentist for the rest of my life? I’m not sure I could handle that. Nah, I’m hoping to stay in rock n roll for as long as I can. What about you? You’re over at Ealing with Fred and Tim, right? Are you another graphic design nerd like these guys?”

“No, music actually. Nothing like what you guys do,” you added, seeing Roger’s face light up, “classical repertoire mostly. I play the flute.”

“You any good?”

“I suppose that’s a matter of opinion. Personally, I tend to think I’m shit, but you ask any music student and they’ll tell you the same thing.”

“Oh don’t be like that, Y/N,” interjected Freddie, “she’s bloody marvelous. She can play you Bach like you’ve never heard before, although Roger I don’t think you have ever heard it before.”

“Oh come off it, I’ve heard my fair share of the classical stuff.”

“Yes, next time you go to the symphony be sure to refer to it as ‘the classical stuff’ I’m sure you won’t get any funny looks at all.”

You and Tim howled with laughter at Freddie’s comment while Roger gave him a good punch in the shoulder.

“Dear god, look at the time,” you said a moment later after having glanced at your watch. “Is it really two thirty in the morning?!”

“I suppose it is,” said Tim, “sure hasn’t felt that long.”

“I’ve really got to be going then,” you said.

“Aw c’mon stay out for a little longer with us,” said Tim, “Fred and I hardly get to see you anymore.”

“I know, and I wish that I could, but I’ve got class at 8 tomorrow morning and I should at least try to get some sleep.”

“Oh alright go on, we know you’re right,” said Freddie, “I should probably be going myself, I am quite exhausted.”

“See ya later Fred,” said Roger, “great to see you again, Y/N. You should come round to the flat once we get it, we’d all love to see you again and you can meet Brian as well.”

The flutter was back.

“I definitely will,” you replied before giving them all a wave and starting back to your own flat.

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carlisle980 · 4 years

Text

Just Dance

It’s still Bangtan Day here in the US, and I did something I never imagined I’d do. I wrote Bangtan fic. I haven’t posted it anywhere, because ff.net is where the bulk of my work is but there’s no Bangtan archive there, and while I do all my reading on AO3, I haven’t posted there in years. I can, if the consensus is that it’s a good idea.

Anyway ... here it is. Apologies to the usual crowd. Well, more like, sorry ... not sorry. I love all my old faves. And BTS too.

+++++++

Hey, dance with me dance with me Any kind of bounce is fine, dance with me Where are you from, why are you dancing A natural conversation, say something —J-Hope, “Trivia: Just Dance”

She stands in the center of the cold grey floor feeling small and overwhelmed and old. The studio looks the same as it did twenty years ago, when she spent eight hours a week here. In this very space. Learning. Her horizons expanding. Experiencing a world that made her heart pound with expectation. The sky seemed the limit then.

It smells the same. That combination of sweat and disinfectant with a hint of central air conditioning that she’ll forever associate with this room, with this craft. She couldn’t believe her luck when the question of using the space was as easily answered as it had been half her life ago. Now, as then, all she had to do was ask the director. Is there a chance I might use the studio sometime, when there are no classes and the company doesn’t need it?

It was easy to come by, but that doesn’t mean she can have the space indeterminately, she reminds herself. There’s no grand objective to her being here; she just wants to see if there’s still the same pull. The fascination, the exhilaration. Why, precisely, is a question she cannot answer.

She’s thinking too much, and that won’t do. She plugs her phone into the studio’s sound system and turns on a playlist she works out to at home. It’s high-energy, if eclectic. Avicii is on there. OneRepublic, Maroon 5. “Rhythm Nation” by Janet Jackson and a bunch of vintage Art of Noise. Those are there because they were part of her teacher’s playlist back in the day. Her German-born teacher, a former student of Gus Giordano; a geologist-turned-dancer whom she idolized to the extreme. Sigh. Those were the days.

Knowing it isn’t wise to just start dancing cold, she tries to remember how they used to warm up in class. What a dumb thing not to recall, given that she was advanced by the time she stopped. School loans and weddings don’t pay for themselves, after all, and once she had her degree she could no longer justify the indulgence. Putting off adulthood to linger at the college and take dance classes, to no particular end. So she’d got herself a big girl job out in the real world. One with a salary and health insurance and, in time, a corner office with windows and a door they let her shut so she could concentrate. Pretty sweet gig for a twenty-year-old. Sweet enough that she and her husband had bought their first home —in the overpriced Baltimore-Washington metropolitan area of the early 2000’s, no less— when she was 24. Sweet enough that by the time she left to have their first child, she was making enough that she could’ve bought a Mercedes. If, you know, that had been her priority over becoming a mother.

In the absence of any grand recollection, she sidles up to the barre and starts with the basics. Plié, relevé, plié with a push through to relevé. Relevé down into plié. Coupé, frappé, dégagé, rond de jambe. She puts a leg up on the barre and leans sideways towards it: first one, then the other. Wiggles her shoulders a little, rolls out her lats on the foam roller. Back flexibility is a tough thing but she’s working hard. It’s better than it’s ever been, and compared to other people that’s not saying much, but for her it’s the hallmark of progress.

That’s warm enough, right? You’re really not supposed to stretch before dancing. Cold muscle is shorter and more likely to tear, and all that. The music continues to play and she progresses to chaîné turns. This is where she begins to get frustrated. It’s the same story as it was all those years ago: she can turn to her left well enough (though spotting still doesn’t work the way it should, as evidenced by the room spinning when she stops), but turning to the right is an exercise in futility. She under-rotates and falls out of the turn and no matter how slow she goes, it doesn’t improve. It’s the same with fouettés. Pirouettes in the center go a little better, but she only lands a double once or twice out of several dozen attempts. She practices those turns from modern class that her teacher never had a name for and always referred to by sound effects, like the sound you’d make if you were suddenly punched in the stomach because that’s the mechanism: a core contraction into a spin, propelled by gravity. There was a lot of that, dancing under Lena. Sounds and gestures filling in where words failed. Those turns are still her favorite; they look pretty without the dancer having to do much besides knowing when to work with gravity and when to resist it. That’s why modern was always her preferred style: it doesn’t take a perfect body to finesse the principles of contract and release, of fall and recover.

Little by little she begins to pull things from memory: a crazy penché-drop-spin from advanced modern class that was easy when she was nineteen and is significantly less so now; bits of the Ailey-inspired choreography they learned one semester. She is struck out of the blue by the same desire that characterized her girlhood. Whenever she would encounter a large swath of open floor, her first instinct was always to leap across it. But she knows that one doesn’t simply grand jeté indiscriminately when one has not done so for the better part of two decades. Despite Kathryn Morgan’s advice to just sling the front leg out there and go for it, she holds back. She’s already come back from a groin tear once; never again, thank you very much!

The music decides for her what will happen next when it begins playing “Black Swan.” She hauls herself to the center of the floor in what she imagines is a comedic fashion and gets herself into position.

From there it just flows. She feels it, the struggle of which Martha Graham spoke; the one that inspired the song. It’s all too real for her.

A dancer dies twice; once when they stop dancing, and this first death is the more painful.

She’s danced this piece a thousand times in the privacy of her bedroom, and she nails every count, trying to make it expansive, to fill the vastness of the studio.

Killing me now, killing me now. She has felt that. The despair, the slow death of a precious part of her soul when she’d given up her dream in favor of security. She doesn’t speak Korean —not yet, anyhow— but she’s taken every syllable to heart, knows what each one means.

Sinking slowly like in a trance nah, nah, nah Struggle but it's all ocean floor nah, nah Every moment becomes eternity yeah, yeah, yeah Film it now, film it now Do you hear me, yeah

She’s breathing hard by the end. Tears are streaming down her face and she hadn’t even been aware she was crying. Oh, my God, what was that? That was … like a religious experience. Why did I ever give this up? Why did I let go of me?

It’s as she’s wiping the tears away with the back of her hand, taking gulps from her water bottle like she’s spent the last year in the desert, that she becomes aware she is not alone.

Her head snaps around sharply when someone clears their throat and she gasps. There, seated on the bench above the cubbies where students stash their bags, is none other than the Jung Hoseok. He is barefoot, sitting with his legs criss crossed, in an orange t-shirt and blue shorts, pushing a hand through his dark hair like she’s seen him do countless times on YouTube.

Surely, she’s dreaming. Because she has dreamt of situations like this, both literally and metaphorically. Many times. But in dreams, be they the daytime variety or at night, she never sees him blink, or hears him breathing. But nothing about this makes sense. What is Jung Hoseok of BTS, arguably the world’s busiest man, who cannot walk to get coffee in Seoul without being mobbed by stampeding multitudes, doing here? In the States, on the campus of a community college, and, by all appearances, alone?

Even if he is real, it isn’t as if she can ask him. She knows his English is getting better and better as time goes by and BTS’ influence in the West continues to balloon. But where he can speak a bit of her language, she only knows random words in his.

Still. They’re staring at one another now, and she feels incredibly rude. He can’t be a dream, because he’s infinitely more beautiful in real life than even the best photographs have made him out to be. All angular, with impossibly long lashes, and yes, there’s that adorable mole just above his top lip.

“You’re very good,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence, and isn’t that just characteristic of him? “Dance was … wow.” His accent is heavy but his meaning is clear. And oh, that smile. He really is the sunshine incarnate.

She wants to brush off the compliment, to explain to him that maybe she was good, once upon a time, but now she’s just somebody’s mom. But she doubts it would be easy for him to understand. She wrinkles her nose, shakes her head almost imperceptibly. “I …” she stammers. She’s talking to Jung Freaking Hoseok —WHAT?! “First time really dancing in many years.”

He smiles again. “Really good,” he repeats, nodding his head for emphasis. “Serious.”

She’s not sure whether he’s saying that she looked serious while dancing, or that he’s serious about her doing well, but either way. If anyone knows the inner workings of the “Black Swan” choreography, the sentiment behind it, it is this man.

“Thank you,” she says softly, her cheeks hot. “I love Black Swan.”

There’s so much she wants to ask him. Why are you here? Are you traveling alone? Are there security guards outside the door ready to handcuff me to a lamppost? Because I asked the program director if I could use the studio and she said yes! But the language barrier would make it impossible, and anyway, isn’t there some saying about not looking a gift horse in the mouth? She hasn’t taught that one to her kids, but she’s pretty sure her grandmother said it to her at some point.

He smiles once again in response to what she said about “Black Swan” and makes a short humming sound in the back of his throat. “I’m Hoseok,” he says in perfect English. “Hobi.”

She almost laughs aloud. As if there was any possibility she wouldn’t know who he was. But then, hasn’t that been one of the things she’s loved best about him from the start: his humility.

So she introduces herself, and he bows from his seat and tries out her name. It’s adorable. And now she knows the answer to one of those questions she just figured she’d ponder for eternity: her name falling from his lips sounds like angels singing.

“Dance with me?” he asks as he rises from his seat and holds out his hand to her.

If this is a dream, please don’t wake me up.

‘You don’t understand,’ she almost says. ‘You’re … you, and I’m old. I don’t pop and lock, unless you wanna talk about my hip joints when I try grand battement. I don’t b-boy. Modern’s all I’ve got.’ But how many times has she said it: My dream is to dance with Hobi for a day. What kind of absolute idiot would she be to pass up an opportunity like this?

So she says, “I would love to.” And means it more than she’s meant anything since she said ‘I do,’ as a twenty-year-old kid. Nineteen years, two houses, three children, countless ups and downs later, and look how that turned out. Sometimes good things just happen.

She was already warm, but since he isn’t, she stretches when he does, and now it’s safe to stretch hip flexors and hamstrings and they definitely need it. He watches her a little. She watches him a lot. Sometimes he copies what she’s doing, as if there’s anything she could possibly know that he doesn’t. He does these crazy boneless things, dropping to his knees and seemingly floating back up to stand, and she just shakes her head. It looks even more effortless —and even more impossible— in person.

She whips out the chaîné turns again. Her good side, of course. She can fake spotting well enough to make it from one corner to the opposite pretty quickly.

“Oh!” he exclaims. “Like Jimin!”

She giggles. “I wish!” she says, and watches as his expression turns to a question mark.

“Wish?” he asks.

How to explain? “My style?” It comes out as a question because she wants to be sure he can follow.

He nods, so she continues.

“My style, like Jimin’s style. But Jimin … WOW. Me? Just okay.” She makes the hand gesture that means ‘so-so,’ because some things are universal, right?

He laughs, shaking his head. “Aish! No, no, no. Not ‘just okay.’ Very strong. Very …” He thinks for a moment, and there’s another question answered. Pensive Hobi is breathtaking. “Very … grace?”

She is floored. “Graceful?” she asks. He nods emphatically. “Me?”

“Yes, yes, yes! Arms.” He gesticulates wildly with his own. Which, she knows, he would do even in the absence of a language barrier. “Pretty.”

How can she tell him she’s not built like a dancer, that that knowledge has always made her feel heavy and ungainly? That she’s always wanted to be tall and delicate, like him. “My back.” She gestures behind herself. “My spine?” BTS have a song called “Spine Breaker,” even if they call it something else, so maybe it’s a word he knows.

He nods again, echoing, “Spine.”

She reaches into her bag for a pen and paper and draws a likeness of her spine, double curves and all. “Not straight,” she explains, handing the sketch to him. “Makes dancing hard.” It affects everything. I can’t turn properly; I have no extension. My hips are a mess. Every time I lift my leg it clicks.

“Hurts?” His eyes are soft, his expression sympathetic.

“Yeah,” she answers. “Yeah, sometimes. But dance makes it better.” Ironic, right?

“Keep going,” he says with finality. Insistent. Like he’s solved every mystery of her life.

Perhaps he has. He’s only been witness to a half hour out of her entire existence, but in that short time he’s seen a side of her that few others have. He’s watched her dancing, smiling, throwing herself full-force into something she loves. Maybe she never got to perform. Maybe she gave up on training to become a dance teacher. But if dancing makes her feel this level of satisfaction, how can she afford not to give it a prominent place in her life?

She studies him for a long moment. Does she dare ask anything of him? She answers that question with another: will she ever have an opportunity like this one again?

“Hobi?” she ventures timidly. He nods. “Teach me?”

“Yeah!” He says it like it’s a forgone conclusion.

“DNA?” She’s never been able to work that one out on her own.

He grins in answer.

They spend the next hour speaking the universal language of dancer and choreographer. “Pah! Pah! Pah!” “Five, six, seven, eight!” She gets on the wrong foot a time or two, turns and collides with him once, all of it to gales of laughter from the pair of them. He corrects her body position and he’s hands-on but ever the consummate gentleman, and by the time they stop she knows the entire choreography well enough that she can perfect the rest at home.

All too soon it’s over. “I have to go,” she explains sadly, pointing to the schedule on the director’s office door. It’s printed in English, but he gets the gist. There’s a class coming in soon; her time is up.

They sling their dance bags over their shoulders at the same time and it results in another shared laugh.

“Hobi,” she says at the door, “thank you.” There’s so much more she wants to tell him. As long as I live, I’ll never forget this. You’re my favorite dancer. You’re a legend.

“Don’t stop,” he tells her in a tone of voice that brooks no argument, squeezing her hands in both of his own. “Always dance, friend.”

When she performs “DNA” with the company the following semester, she dedicates it to him.

#ejb writes #uncharted territory #fanfic #bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan boys #hobi centric #jhope #j-hope #hoseok #jung hoseok #dance fic #just dance #jimin is mentioned #hobi is my love #what can i say #bangtan day

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