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#okay jokes aside this piece has been stuck in my head ever since i learned of the truth…..first time snimating text it was fun werent it
shellshooked · 11 months
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but i’m a creep
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beauvibaby · 4 years
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all along - m.tkachuk
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a/n: so like, if you look through my page you can legit see me say like two weeks ago how much I disliked Matthew, but clearly, that has changed for the better
warnings: toxic relationship, trust issues (if that's a warning?)
word count: 1.7k
You hesitated, finger hovering over the contact, “fuck it.” You muttered, pressing down on the screen, a picture of you and Matthew covering it as it dialed his number. You flinched at the sudden noise from the hallway, “hey, Y/N, I was just going-are you okay?” Matthew cut himself short as he heard you sniffle into the phone, “no.” You squeaked out, “Danny and I got into a fight, and he won't leave.” You whispered out, feeling stupid, calling your best friend because your boyfriend was being a drunk idiot. “I’m coming.” Is all Matthew said before you heard him moving around, coincidentally, you lived in the same apartment building as him, it’s how you meant a couple of years ago. “Y/N, come on, babe, open the door.” Danny muttered, knocking softly, you didn't respond, only stepped away from the door when he slammed his hand against it. When you felt the fear rushing through you, you knew everyone had been right, why were you dating him? He should be the one person who never scares you, but now you were paralyzed in fear when he jiggled the knob. “It’s your fault, you’re the one who started this fucking fight, if you could just stop flirting with every guy that gives you attention.” You shook your head at his words, even if he couldn't see you. “I think you need to leave, Danny.” Matthew’s voice echoed through the wall and you felt relief coming over you. “Of course she called you, fucking bitch.” Danny muttered, you heard a thud followed by a groan, “get out, now.” Matthew barked out, I heard rushed movements before the doorknob started moving again. “Y/N, it’s alright.” Matthew spoke softly through the door and you rushed to unlock it, he nearly fell into you from the sudden movements. “Thank you.” He was taken back by your words as you wrapped your arms around him. “don't thank me, you shouldn’t have to deal with that prick.” Matthew assured you, hugging you back as you stayed silent. “What if he comes back?” You finally whimpered, thinking about how many times he had done exactly that, go and get drunk, come crawling back apologizing and how you’d always let him back in. “You can come stay at my place tonight, I’ve got a spare room.” He offered, you pulled away, not realizing you had started crying until you saw the wet patch on his shirt. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, awkwardly looking away as he stood there looking you over. 
“Don’t apologize, you didn't do anything wrong.” He shushed you, reaching up to wipe a tear from your cheek, but freezing when you flinched back. If you had kept your eyes open, you would have seen his heart break covering his face. The thought of anyone ever doing something to make you flinch away from him, it was killing him, but he pushed it aside and put his hand down. “It’s okay, just get whatever you need for the night. I’ll be out here.” He whispered to you, backing out of the room, your eyes shot open, “Matty?” You both froze, you never really used that nickname with him, when you first met you had used it as a joke and quickly found out he hated it. His gaze softened, watching as you fiddled with your fingers. “Can-uh-can you just stay in here with me, it’ll only take a minute.” You whispered shamefully, he could see the nerves on your face. “Of course.” 
***
It had been well over a month since that fight with Danny, and Matthew was there with you when he came back to collect his things, it was silent no one said anything, in reality it was ten minutes but it felt like ten years as you stuck close to Matthews side, keeping as much distance between you and Danny as possible. 
And that led to where you are now, laughing as Matthew struggled to put together the set of nightstands you insisted he get for his guest room. His parents were coming to visit, and as you had stayed in his guest room for a couple of nights, you could attest to how badly he needed more storage in there. “It’s not funny.” He groaned dramatically, dropping the screw driver down on the ground in a defeated sigh. “Help?” He questioned, looking up at you with a pout that you didn't know he had in him. You gave in and joined him on the floor, “what would you do without me?” You teased, thinking of all the mundane things you had taught him to do properly over this past month, wether it be as simple as how to change his air conditioning filter, or how to properly defrost chicken to cook it. “I really don't know.” He whispered under his breath, watching you easily figure out how to assemble the furniture. You tried to hide the blush rising up your skin at his response, “it’s rude to stare.” You reminded him, he let out a breathy laugh as he held the wooden shelf up for you while you got the screw properly lined up. “Thanks.” You sighed out of instinct, making his eyebrows shoot up. “You’re literally putting furniture together for me, stop being so polite.” He groaned, rolling his eyes, nudging you softly when you didn't respond with your usual snarky comment. “It was a joke, don't be mad.” He added, you nodded, focusing on what you were doing before the door being knocked on made you both jump up, “who is that?” You asked instantly, he suddenly got a little flushed. “My parents?” It was a statement but it came out more as. question as you went wide eyed. “Matthew,” you whacked the back of his arm, “you said they were coming in tomorrow! I can’t be here, I’m just your weird downstairs neighbor!” You panicked, looking down at the clothes you were in, an oversized t-shirt and spandex shorts. “Oh my god, I’m going to look like a hookup leaving here.” You panicked more and he started laughing to the point of having tears in his eyes as his parents knocked again. 
“First of all, it’s fine, they’ll be happy to know that I have a friend who isn't forced to talk to me.” He paused getting your attention, you gave him an unamused look as he shot you a smile, grabbing your hand and dragging you along with him. “Matthew.” You warned, as he had a devious smile on his face, “you look cute,” he shrugged, pausing at the door, “and you’re not my weird downstairs neighbor, you’re my amazing downstairs friend.” And with that he opened the door as you hid behind him face turning bright pink. “Delivery for Matthew Tkachuk?” You heard a deep voice ask and you gasped, stepping out from behind him and shooting him a glare as he signed for the package. “You jerk!” You snapped the second he shut the door, “you made me go into a full panic for no reason!” You crossed your arms dramatically, not missing the giant smile that covered his face when you pouted walking away. “Y/N, just having a little fun.” He called, and you could hear him ripping into the package as he followed behind you. You had already settled back down on the ground in front of the nightstand, putting the last couple of pieces on it, you glanced up when you heard him fumbling with fabric. Your eyebrows shot up, “are those the curtains I pointed out three weeks ago?” You teased, watching as he sheepishly nodded. “Well, you have the best taste of anyone I know, so I figured you had to be right about these curtains being right for this room.” He mumbled, approaching the window, the previous renter had left the curtain rod, but no curtains on it. You began laughing the second you saw him holding the fabric up. “Matty, did you measure the window?” You asked, teasingly, he looked at the single panel he had purchased and how much shorter than the tall window it was. “Sure didn't.” He admitted with a genuine laugh as he watched the way you giggled. 
“How about I’ll buy the curtains and you can pay me back?” You offered, your fit of giggles breaking as he sighed a little frustrated with not knowing how to do something as simple as buying curtains. “Next time, you have to measure how long the window is, and how wide it is, and you’ll need to buy the according amount of panels.” You explained sweetly, taking the fabric from him and folding it back up to be returned to the store. “How do you know all this?” He asked with a groan, flopping back on the bed, “I don't know, I guess I kind of just learned it?” You answered uncertainty in your tone, you weren't quite sure, its almost as if you just knew. “So, could paying you back be dinner?” He asked suddenly, your face went pale, looking over to him. “What?” You squeaked out, the butterflies dancing around your stomach. He had that smirk on his face, “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while, and now just seemed like the right time.”
 “As long as you pick me up.”
 “That is a done deal, Y/N.”
***
“Wow, you, wow.” Matthew gasped out when you opened the door to your apartment, it was later in the week, his parents having just left from visiting, you become self conscious, looking down at your dress. “Is it too much? I can change.” You rushed your words, stepping aside to allow him to come in. You took in his appearance, slacks, dress shirt and nice shoes. his curls somewhat styled. He looked even more amazing than he normally did, and that shocked you. “No, no, you look amazing, beautiful.” He assured you, watching the sparkle come back to your eyes at his words. “Clean up pretty well yourself.” You teased in response, not being able to keep yourself from smoothing the wrinkle out of his shirt, your hand resting on his shoulder just a moment longer than it had too. He cleared his throat, bringing you both back to your senses, “we have a reservation, we don't want to be late.” He whispered, but still, neither of you moved. “Reservations are over rated.” You muttered, a small smirk gracing your lips when he glanced between them and your eyes. “I couldn't agree more.” And with that, he kicked the door shut behind him as he finally, finally, kissed you, instantly you knew, you should have been with him all along. 
Taglist: @thathockeygirl @literarycharleton
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perthshirecottage · 4 years
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Okay this wound up way longer than I thought it was going to. I was thinking about little Five in the apocalypse and finding Vanya’s book. Has anyone ever thought about how much Vanya’s book influenced Five and his perception of his siblings? Because I think about that and I haven’t really seen too many posts about that so here’s my two cents.
Five was only 13 when he got stuck in the apocalypse and yet he comes back acting like he knows these 29 years old versions of his siblings. Five obsessively reading the book actually explains why he comes back and immediately thinks every single one of his siblings besides Vanya are stupid and useless despite not having seen any of them in 45 years. The book would have been written to make Vanya the poor sympathetic victim and her father and siblings the villain of her story. 45 years is a long time and I’m sure Five has forgotten plenty of details about his siblings. He still has his own faded memories of the people he remembers and so he might remember bits and pieces that weren’t in the book but those memories would be influenced by the things Vanya had written and perhaps make him question if he was remembering correctly. Not to mention Vanya’s book is the only written account of the kind of people they became and Vanya made sure she was the only one who came across in a flattering light. Five would have read about Klaus and his spiral into addiction and how he stole and lied to his siblings. How Allison became even more shallow and vain. How Luther was almost cruel in his need to be the leader, acting more and more like dad every day. Deigo was selfish and only cared about making sure everyone knew he was better than them and he was angry and bitter when he couldn’t. And Vanya would have written herself as the saint who endured all of this only to be tossed aside like a broken doll that no one wanted. Of course Five is going to lean towards seeing things Vanya’s way. Her voice is the only influence he had on knowing who his siblings became. The only fact that Five would have kept alive outside of Vanya’s influence is that he loves his siblings. I don’t say any of this to diminish what Vanya went through. She *did* suffer. But so did everyone else in that house. And Vanya’s book would not have shown that because she didn’t think anyone else suffered the way she did. She thought she was treated horribly and abused while her siblings were living the high life of being extraordinary and that she had to be the martyr for living through that. So Five, young and impressionable and all alone would have had Vanya’s voice in his ear telling him all the reasons why she was the only good person in that house, the only one that was competent and could be trusted. Five would have felt more of a kinship towards Vanya than anyone else because her book would have endeared him to her. Unfortunately when he got there and Vanya didn’t believe him it went against the Vanya that Five had created in his head. Because none of Five’s siblings were quite the people that Vanya had portrayed in her book, not even herself. And Five has had to adapt to anything the world has thrown at him so he just rolls with it. He also didn’t have time feel any loss at his preconceived notions being wrong because, you know the apocalypse was in 8 days.
I don’t know the exactly what the kids’ relationships were like growing up, and I know that Vanya wrote about how Five was her only confidant. How he was the only one who cared, but that is the voice of someone who is 15 years past what happened and seeing things with rose tinted glasses. I know the popular opinion is that Five and Vanya were the absolute best of friends and everyone else was just sort of there, but that’s based on a head shake, a name called, what Vanya said, and the fact the Five went to Vanya first. That’s not to say that Five and Vanya were not friends, but I don’t think that Vanya was Five’s only friend. Because of their dad’s influence no one wanted to hang out with Vanya that much but since Five did that meant that he was her best friend. And Five left and so those are the memories that Vanya held onto to but I highly doubt that Five hung out with Vanya and only Vanya. The fact that Five had enough love and connection to endure 45 years of hell to get back to his entire family and not just Vanya shows that five had to have had an honest connection to *all* of his siblings. At 13 I’m sure that Five played with all of his siblings and had a relationship with each of them. In flashbacks he was arrogant and smart but also a little silly and playful and he wasn’t as stressed and mean as he is in the show because he hadn’t endured 45 years of trauma. And while yes, I do think Five was probably closer to Klaus, Ben, and Vanya, if only because Allison and Luther were caught and up in each other and Diego had latched into their mom, it doesn’t mean that Five didn’t hang out with people who weren’t Vanya. He would have bonded with everyone else over things that Vanya couldn’t understand. Vanya thought getting a tattoo would have been cool, and wanted one only because she was left out while everyone else knew how frightening and traumatic the whole thing was. Vanya didn’t endure training sessions and know how brutal those could be. She didn’t go on missions and experience how thrilling they could be when they went right but that also meant she never felt the panic and desperation and fear when they went wrong. Back to my point which is that Vanya would have only had good things to say about Five and how close they were. Vanya probably would have written about how everyone didn’t seem to mind that much about Five going missing because that gave them more room to shine and how she was the only one to make him peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches and leave the lights on for him because she was his best friend and the only one who cared about him. so of course Five is going to come out years later remembering how close he and Vanya were because her book would have influenced his memories. He wouldn’t as clearly be able to remember joking around with Klaus or sitting around complaining about training with Diego or those moments where he and Ben would sit in compainiable science while reading or how he and Luther would excitedly talk about whatever new science fact they had learned that day or how he and Allison would laugh over some of the more ridiculous articles that were written about the esteemed Umbrella Academy. Vanya’s account of their friendship would have made Five feel closer to her than anyone else. And I’m sure Five would have felt a connection to Vanya’s portrayal of complete isolation. Five understands on a visceral level what it means to be cut off from everyone and everything and he would have felt this kinship with Vanya over that as well.
Which brings us to season 2. Five still loves Vanya and wants to protect her, but Vanya also isn’t the same person he thought she was. She is more angry and vindictive than he thought. And the rest of the siblings aren’t quite what Five had built up in his head either. Klaus isn’t just a lying junkie, but also empathetic and sad. Diego isn’t just an angry number 2 but has a protective streak a couple miles wide. Luther isn’t just Dad’s lackey but is someone who just wants to protect his family but is floundering in figuring out who he is. Allison isn’t completely focused on herself but wants to be a better sister, a better person. Five is reminded more of the people he knew when he was 13. He is reminded that Vanya has some bad qualities but that those don’t diminish the good ones. He is also reminded that the others are not just the horrid useless people from Vanya’s book, but people who are hurting just like him (even if he still knows he had it worst) and who are good and loving people that he wants to reconnect with. And so seeing them in this new light and also realizing that leaving people out of the loop is what caused the last apocalypse, Five puts more trust in his family and tries to bring them together to stop this new apocalypse. He wants to be closer and work with and spend time getting to know this version of his siblings. In S1 when Five is given a minute to breathe because he thinks the apocalypse is over, he realizes that all he wants to do is grow up and be with his family. He wants to just be, without a mission, without an apocalypse. He is tired of fighting and clinging to rage to keep his adrenaline up just so he can function to get through his exhaustion and pain to save the world. He wants to connect to his family. He wants to know all of them. And Five is willing to do whatever he has to get the chance to truly know his siblings on his own terms and not through someone else’s skewed perspective. Five is even willing to fight Vanya because again, he is seeing that she is willing to toss away all of his hard work because she cares more about her selfish desires than going home which is all Five has wanted for 45 years not to mention the fact that he hasn’t had a single break in two weeks. Of course it’s not just Vanya, everyone does get sidetracked by their own personal problems and Five winds up just about losing his mind. Even older, younger Five shows that Five is automatically going to side with Vanya for destroying the world. This Five hasn’t been rejected by Vanya or seen her get angry or been reminded that his family is more than just the bad people in Vanya’s book so when he finds out that Vanya destroyed the world because she was ignored then he is like yeah that tracks. Five has seen all of his siblings too long through Vanya’s eyes and he deserves the chance to know them himself.
Five has lived far longer without his family than he did with them plus he was so young when he left that he wouldn’t have had that many years of concious memories. So Vanya and her book would have had just as much of an impact on his life as the apocalypse did.
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degrassi-fanatic · 3 years
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Happy Father’s Day
Yet-to-be-inflated balloons are strewn across the dining room table, only two or three streamers are hung up so far, and a banner that reads Happy Father’s Day is still inside the plastic packaging he bought it in. All the decorations have been readily ignored and abandoned in favor of a lovingly worn and torn photo album with a cracked spine; the result of being open and closed for many years. 
Sitting at the head of the table, Bobby touches the cover of the album, gently tracing the words: The Nash Family. 
Although it might seem a tad bit morbid and sad to be alone on Father’s Day looking at photographs of his late family, it’s become some sort of a tradition of his ever since they’ve died. 
It used to be far worse, though. He would call in sick for work if he was scheduled that day and drink his body weight in alcohol as he flipped through the pages of the photo album with white knuckles, refusing to let himself forget what he lost. 
Now, it's different. He turns the pages in the photo album with only a deep ache to replace what used to be a sharp sting in his chest. Memories used to only equate to suffering for him but now Bobby looks at all the pictures with a renewed sense of love.
Overtime, Bobby has learned that memory can be a beautiful thing sometimes.
Bobby was alone in the house today as earlier in the day, Michael had taken May and Denny back to his own apartment for their own private Father’s Day celebration before the joint party that was supposed to take place here in the evening. Michael had asked if he wanted to join but Bobby had only politely declined, only half-lying about having to decorate. 
In all honesty, even after all of these years, Father’s Day was still a sensitive subject for him. 
Suddenly, at the sound of a doorbell chiming throughout the house, all of his melancholy thoughts are put on pause.
Setting aside the photo album on the dining table, Bobby pushes himself out of the chair and walks over to the door. He pulls open the door to find Buck standing on the other side with his hands stuff awkwardly in his front pockets. 
“Hey Buck.” he greets pleasantly surprised, “What are you doing here?”
“Bobby.” he says as he darts his eyes to the ground, “I was—um, I was wondering if I could spend the day with you.”
“You do realize what day it is, right?” Bobby asks as he wouldn’t put it past Buck to forget.
He watches as Buck avoids meeting his eyes, only scruffing the toe of his shoe against the ground. 
“My—my dad’s in town and I really don’t want to be around him.” he begins to explain and suddenly Buck’s surprise appearance makes much more sense, “Everyone else is busy; my sister’s with Chimney and Joy, Eddie’s with Christopher, Karen and Hen are using today as a second Mother’s Day, and Michael has Denny and May at his until Athena comes back from her shift.
“So I was hoping I could spend the day with you?” Buck asks, scratching the back of his neck. 
“With me?”
The small smile that was tugging on the corner of Buck’s lips disappears with his words, in its wake is a resigned look. Nodding his head, Buck lowers his gaze to Bobby’s shoulder. 
“Y’know what, it’s fine.” Buck says, “I’ll just go to the mall or something. Sorry to bother you.”
He feels something sink deep inside of him as he watches Buck turn away, heading down towards where his Jeep is parked near the sidewalk. 
Desperate to right whatever wrong thing he must’ve said or did just now, Bobby blurts out, “I could use an extra hand with setting up for the party today.”
In the middle of the concrete pathway, Buck stills. As he turns around to face him, Bobby pushes open the door fully and motions with his head for Buck to make his way inside. Practically skipping, he does so immediately. 
Once he’s inside, he gestures for him to make his way down to the kitchen as Bobby closes and locks up the front door. 
“Thanks for letting me do this.” Buck says as he picks up a string of reflective blue streamers. 
“Helping me decorate?” he teases as he begins to tear open the plastic packaging of the banner. 
“You know what I mean.” Buck responds with an eye roll.
As he does, he catches sight of the tattered photo album near the edge of the table. Suppressing the urge to hide it away where no one could find it, Bobby lets Buck pick it up and search through it. He decides to concentrate on rolling out the Party City banner in his hands. 
“What’s this?” Buck asks.
“It’s just a photo album from my first marriage.”
Right away, Buck closes it before setting it back right where he got it from. 
“Sorry,” he says with guilt laced in his voice, “You probably don’t want to talk about that.”
“It’s okay. I’ll always miss them but, it doesn’t hurt to remember them.” he explains.
At Buck’s hesitant, almost wary look, Bobby decides that maybe it’s time this old photo album finally gets some new attention. Picking it up, Bobby searches through the pages until he finally settles on one. 
“Here, this is my son Junior and this is my daughter Brook.”
The picture was the two of them awkwardly linking their arms around each other's shoulders. It was taken at Junior’s middle school graduation ceremony. With a smile, Bobby remembers how much Brook whined when her parents forced her to take a picture with her brother, complaining that Junior didn’t shower enough and smelled like he just came back from hockey practice. 
From his peripheral, he sees Buck shift around until he’s looking at the photograph from over Bobby’s shoulder. 
“What were they like?” Buck asks. 
“Brook loved reading. Her whole bedroom was lined up with bookshelves. Y’know she won this personal essay contest once...” Bobby says, still bragging about his daughter even after how many years have passed since she’s been gone
Old habits are hard to break, huh?
 “Yeah, she won five hundred dollars for it.” he explains, “She was always doing stuff like that.”
“And Junior?”
A chuckle bubbles out of Bobby. 
“Oh God, Junior, he was always getting himself into trouble. But, he was a good kid, he had a good heart.” he remembers.
Kind of like someone else I know.
Pulling his gaze away from where he was looking at Junior’s face, Bobby shifts his attention to Buck. For a second, he takes in just how light his irises are and how blond his hair looks in the light. 
He likes to imagine that this is what Junior would have grown up to look like. 
 “Junior would’ve been a lot like you.” he mumbles, more to himself than Buck.
It takes a few seconds of gears grinding and cogs turning around in his brain before Buck fully processes the depth of his words but when he does, he tilts his head to face Bobby and gives him a shy smile before taking a step backwards. 
“High praise.”
“Yeah well not that high.” Bobby jokes as he closes the photo album, “The kid got himself stuck in a tree that was only four feet above the ground once. And I was the one who was dispatched to get him out of there.”
At the story, Buck starts to double over laughing, clutching at his abdomen as he forces himself to take a breath between every wheeze and snort. Soon, Bobby is following suit; Buck’s laughter is infectious even on a bittersweet day like today. 
For a brief moment as he studies the way Buck throws his head back chuckling, he cannot remember if Buck always sounded like Junior while he was laughing, or if Bobby’s still-grief-ridden mind is having some sort of auditory hallucination. 
“Seriously?” Buck asks as the laughter begins to wane. 
“I never let him live it down.” he answers as he wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. 
Placing the photo album back on the table, Bobby decides that they’ve spent enough time on the subject and judging by the clock, they should really get back to decorating if they don’t want Athena to come back home to a complete mess. 
“He must’ve been a lucky kid.” Buck says, as Bobby searches through the mess to find a roll of tape or some thumbtacks. 
“Hmm?”
“To have you as a dad.” he explains as he hands Bobby a cello tape dispenser, “Junior, I mean.”
If Junior was lucky, he would’ve been alive right now. 
“When I wasn’t drunk and or high out of my mind, I did alright.” Bobby responds with a hint of self deprecation. 
“Yeah, well, I think you’re doing a great job right now.”
Before Bobby can open his mouth and ask Buck what exactly he’s referring to, he’s cut off by the blaring sound of Buck’s cellphone ringing in his pocket. He pulls it out with a huff and practically glares at the screen lighting up in front of his face.
He waits for Buck to pick up the call but all he does is mute his cellphone and shove it back into his back pocket. 
At the way he clenches his jaw, Bobby can deduce who it is with little difficulty. 
“Your dad again?” he asks.
His only response is a short nod as he begins to busy himself with preparing some pieces of tape for holding up the banner; harshly ripping them off from the dispenser before attaching them to the edge of the table. 
Suppressing a sigh, Bobby knows he needs to push Buck into doing the right thing, even if it isn’t what either of them want to do. 
As much as Bobby wants Buck around today, not only to ward off all the bad memories associated with today’s holiday but also simply because he enjoys the man’s company, he knows he shouldn’t monopolize his time. 
Buck deserves a father. Though Bobby may downright despise Phillip Buckley, the man had the honour of holding the aforementioned title and that was something he could not compete with. 
Buck already has a father. He may not be a good one, but he was trying.
Even if he is 29 years too late.
“Maybe you should go meet him?” Bobby suggests, “I mean, if I got a second chance to become a father, you deserve a second chance to have one.”
Buck stops ripping off pieces of tape. His hands travel down to the edge of the table and he grips so hard at the wood that Bobby’s afraid there’ll be claw indents once he’s finished. 
Within a second, however, he pushes himself off of the table and he goes to reach into his pocket. 
Bobby barely has enough to take a look at what Buck’s pulled out before it’s already shoved into his hands. Tilting his head down, he sees a semi-wrinkled piece of printer paper that has been folded in half to make a card. On the front, in big and bold handwriting that he recognizes to be Buck’s, he sees the words Happy Father’s Day and a couple of messy drawings of two firefighters scattered across the page. 
“I already do.” he answers, “Do you—um, do you like it?”
“I love it.” Bobby whispers.
He opens up the card to find a long and what he presumes to be a heartfelt message on the inside. At the top, it says, To the best father and at the bottom, Love, Buck.
“Also, um, some of those random hearts and flames are courtesy of Christopher, who helped me make this, by the way.”
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give-seconds · 3 years
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Survival of the Fittest
Summary: Welcome to the Badlands of Montana! This will be the setting of our game. What’s the name of the game? Simple, make it out alive. In which you and Jaemin are kidnapped and forced to try and find your way out of the Badlands.
Masterlist | Main Masterlist
--Part Four
“What do we do if we don’t see a clear way to go?” you ask, taking heavy breaths as you place your hands on top of your head. I will never go mountain climbing after this.
“Then I say we just keep walking the way we were going, I mean there isn’t really a point in going back,” Jaemin comments, copying your posture. 
You nod your head, taking one final deep breath, holding it for a few seconds, and letting it go.
The first hill you climbed had more of a flat top, making it so you could walk around the top somewhat easily. But this one isn’t as flat and you both have to lean slightly forward so as not to fall down the hill.
“Well this hill isn’t as big as the other one, so I guess we just stay here and look around. No use in trying to walk around it.”
You nod your head, trying to stand straighter to get a better look around. You sway slightly, leaning forward again to regain your balance.
“Careful,” Jaemin says, reaching his hand out to grab your elbow.
You try to straighten up again, standing up slower this time. Once you manage to straighten yourself, you shake his hand off. “You see anything?”
He sighs softly, straightening himself up.
As you both look around the surrounding landscape, you push the nervous feeling inside you away. Now isn’t the time to let your need to make people like you get in the way.
“I think there’s a building over there,” Jaemin says, excitement lacing his voice. “I’m not crazy right? That’s an actual building.”
Turning around slowly, you silently remind yourself that even if there is a building, you shouldn’t get your hopes up.
But once you’re turned in the direction he’s pointing, you feel your breath catch in your throat. “Oh my god.”
“Okay, now that we know I’m not crazy, how do we know this isn’t another joke or something? What if his whole plan is to lead us to that building and then kill us?”
“We don’t,” you whisper back.
With the reminder that there’s someone else controlling you and the last time you thought you found the way out was a lie, you feel the helplessness feeling start to creep in.
He knew we’d find that building, hell, he’s probably waiting for us there.
Blinking a few times, you nod your head. “Okay, do we still want to try?”
He doesn’t answer right away, and when you glance over at him, he’s staring at the distant building.
With another sigh, he nods his head.
---
“I want to apologize.”
You nod your head, not surprised at the sudden apology. Ever since you had made it back down the hill he’s been sending you nervous glances.
“Why? You’re not wrong. I married him for the plane ticket here, so technically, I did marry him for the money.”
“Um,” He pauses, bringing his hand up to rub his neck. “Still, it was wrong, and given I don’t know the full story, I had no right to say that to you. So I’m sorry.”
Nodding your head, you let silence fall between you two again. You normally didn’t let other people’s opinions affect you like this, not in front of them at least. But considering he’s the only person you have, you don’t have any other choice.
“Jaemin?”
He hums in response.
“You don’t know me, and you most certainly don’t know my life. Before you assume I did it only for the money, know I’ve basically been on my own since I was 15. It isn’t my fault Sam presented me with an opportunity.”
He nods slowly, eyes wandering. “I mean it, I am sorry. And I’m not trying to make excuses, I just think the situation is finally getting to me. I should’ve watched my words better, it isn’t your fault we’re stuck out here.”
You sigh, stuffing your hands into your back pockets. “You’re right, you should’ve watched your words better. Maybe you aren’t as cool as you thought you were.”
He chuckles, smiling at you over his shoulder. “Would it help if I told you I’m going through caffeine withdrawal?”
“What?”
“Maybe this is the universe's way of telling me four shots of espresso in each cup was a bad idea.”
“Oh my god, Jaemin.” You slap his shoulder, whatever hurt you still have is pushed aside. “Why didn’t you tell me? You should be drinking way more water than what I’ve been suggesting. We can take more breaks if you need.”
He smiles, shaking his head. “I’m okay, thank you though. I can push through it, we shouldn’t have to sacrifice anything just because I have an addiction.”
“What kind of a person drinks that much caffeine?”
“The kind of person whose taste buds seem to be dead, so in order to get the desired food high, he has to go to the extremes.”
You laugh, happy he isn’t shying away from you. “That is the weirdest description and I don’t even know how you could’ve come up with something like that.”
“It’s a talent.”
---
“Night.”
Groaning, you rub your eyes as you sit up slowly. “You have to stop doing that, you’re going to make me lose all sense of time.”
“Well, you’re just now waking up, and it is,” he draws out the s as he looks down at his watch. “Six in the afternoon, so I’d say that saying night instead of morning is fitting.”
You wave your hand dismissively, still trying to fully wake up. “My point remains.”
“Deal with it I guess.”
You turn to glare at him, only to be met with a playful smile. You smile back, abandoning your glare, and pushing yourself up onto your feet.
“We should get going,” you say, extending your hand to him.
He grabs your hand, pulling himself up. “No breakfast?”
“We can eat while we walk.”
Grabbing the backpack from next to Jaemin, you open it to look at the food inside. “How does that orange sound?”
“Sounds delectable.”
You reach into the bag to grab the fruit, scrunching your nose at his wording. “I’m not even fully awake yet, spare me the gross words.”
He winks at you before turning his back to you and starting off in the direction of the house. “No can do, sweetheart.”
You snort, closing the bag and slinging it over your shoulder, and run the few steps to catch up with him. “So tell me about yourself, Mr. Coffee Addict,” you say, peeling the last orange and dropping the peels as you walk.
“What would you like to know?”
You shrug your shoulders. “Anything you want, what do you like to do in your spare time?”
“Well, me and my sister are big TV watchers, so after we’re both done with school for the day, we just sit and watch TV together. I’m also a popcorn addict, so you can imagine my life right now living without my two loves.”
You snort, smiling slightly at his humor. “I think you’ll be okay.” You break the orange in half, offering him his half. “Think of this as a detox.”
He smiles softly, mumbling a thank you before shakily breaking one piece off and putting it into his mouth.
You press your lips into a thin line at the sight, feeling bad there’s nothing either of you could do to make this easier for him.
“What about you, what do you like to do?”
You look down at your orange, sighing as you break a piece off. You struggle to think of anything vaguely interesting to tell him.
You chuckle as the realization comes to you. “I just work.”
“Huh?” He creases his eyebrows, frowning softly. “You don’t have a favorite movie or something?”
You laugh at the expression, smiling softly. “Oh, I do. I don’t really watch movies, but one of my favorite TV shows is Friends. I just haven’t sat down and watched TV in a while, I’m always taking extra shifts at work, studying for some test, etcetera etcetera.”
He nods his head, squinting his eyes at you as he eats another piece. “Well, then let me cordially invite you to a movie night with me and my sister.”
“Oh I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t be any fun,” you decline immediately.
You’ve always dreamed of having a relationship like the one Jaemin has with his sister with someone in your family or even a close friend. One where you could sit and spend time together doing nothing. You and Sam never spent much time alone, the longest being five hours when you were getting married.
But your longingness mixed with the inexperience of being around someone new would surely bring disaster, you couldn’t bring that into something so perfect.
He clicks his tongue, breaking another piece off. “Don’t be silly, you’d fit right in. If you get along with me, you’ll get along with Emma.”
“I don’t know Jaemin, you-”
“One thing you’ll come to learn about me, y/n, I’m always right. The sooner you accept that, the better.”
You look away from the path in front of you, surprised at the sincerity in his voice. “Jaemin, really, as stupid as it sounds I wouldn’t know how to act. I’d probably make your sister uncomfortable, girls aren’t really my strong suit.” “Oh, and guys are?”
You scoff at the teasing tone, looking back over to glare at him. When he meets your eye, a playful smirk plastered on his face, he simply winks.
“Oh shut up,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I don’t know, talking to guys has always been somewhat easy to me. Maybe it’s because I grew up with two brothers, but girls have just never made sense to me.”
He nods his head, playful smile still present. “Well, then we can consider this training, you can’t live in fear of half the population for the rest of your life.”
“I’m not scared,” you defend, eating your last piece of orange.
“The whole reason you’re not accepting my invitation is that you’re scared of my sister.”
“Who said you’re not the one scared of? Someone who drinks four shots of espresso per drink is not to be trusted.”
He clicks his tongue. “Well I think people with that much snake knowledge shouldn’t be trusted, what do you have to say about that huh?”
You smile at his response, his teasing tone replaced with an offended one. “I say that because of our situation, I’m kind of glad I obtained this information. At least I’m not the one in pain.”
“Touché, my dude, touché.”
---
“Y/n,” he says, grabbing your arm to make you stop. “Is that a bag up there?”
Following the direction of his finger, you find a neon yellow backpack on the side of one of the hills a few feet in front of you.
“I guess so.” You start walking again, sighing as you see you’d have to climb up a little of the hill in order to reach it. “Did we find the other one this fast? I feel like we just got the other one.”
“I don’t honestly remember.”
Neither did you, if you were being honest, and the idea that time was beginning to blur together made you uncomfortable.
“Rock paper scissors on who has to climb to get it?” you ask as you both approach the base of the hill.
“I can do it,” he offers, pulling off his hoodie and handing it to you. “It isn’t that far up.”
“Oh, thank you.”
He smiles, turning away from you and pulling himself up the hill.
It only takes him a few pulls before he reaches where the backpack is wedged between two rocks.
He pulls out the bag and lightly tosses it your way, warning you beforehand with a “catch.”
“Jaemin, no!” you exclaim, dropping his sweater in surprise.
He laughs as he starts climbing his way down, looking over his shoulder at you. “You caught it, what’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that I’m not a fan of people throwing stuff at me.”
He laughs again, pushing slightly off the hill and letting himself fall the rest of the way down. “You’re fine, you big baby.”
You huff, opening the bag and looking at the contents inside. Frowning, you reach into the bag to pull out an unfamiliar object.
“What’s that?” Jaemin asks as he walks over and picks up his sweatshirt.
“I think it’s a walkie talkie.”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, the device comes to life. “Numbers 24 and 25.”
---
Thank you to @doiedreams and @meraki-mark for proofreading this! I’m also sorry this took five and a half years to get you, I was struggling on what I wanted this part to look like. That, and I just watched this amazing drama called Go Ahead. If any of you have spare time and are looking for something to watch I strongly recommend. It has such a beautiful story line and all the cast is phenomenal.
Thank you for reading and I hope you have a good day/night!
Taglist: @drydrops891
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nc7dr3am · 4 years
Text
LILY’s RELTIONSHIPS WITH THE DREAMIES
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MARKLY:
so their ship name is just his full name LMAO
they love it
so yknow how dream clowns mark?
obviously she does too
but she’s more gentle and has a TON of respect for mark
“minhyung oppa is extremely hardworking ... he’s always working to be his absolute best and he is so kind and down to earth”
they’re actually a really soft duo
because like. mark is truly her big brother
he cares for her a lot and helped her so much during her debut
he helps her practice her dancing (even after he left dream)
because she trusts him a lot and he know the exact way to help her
but yeah she still clowns him
calls him old man all of the time
but she was full on SOBBING at their last concert with mark
like she had to move her mic because it was so bad
mark isn’t too big on the pda but when they’re together he always lets his baby sister give him so many hugs
when sm told them that mark was coming back and they were a fixed unit ... god she cried a lot then too
she was so happy
“lily is actually so sweet guys. like, she’s so genuine. she cares a lot for all of us and she’s also so intelligent? she’s always reading” - mark when asked about her on vlive
he’s trying to teach her guitar but the only instrument she formally knows is violin
her skill with the bass is self taught and she doesn’t know actual notes so she applies that to guitar and mark is trying to ACTUALLY teach her
mark also understands her well because they were both raised in the west
she expresses herself better in english and mark is always there to understand and listen
they’re just actual siblings and love each other so much
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LILJUN:
firstly
lily makes renjun look a lot taller
she doesn’t ever make fun of his height and gets mad at the other dreamies when they do
she clowns his voice crack tho HAH
lowkey the savage duo
lily is more secretly savage though
renjun is the one allowed in her room the most
he works on his art and she reads or writes or practices violin
they have a lot of quiet moments
but they also get silly together
so lily doesn’t think about the universe deeply because she lowkey thinks it’s a waste of her time
like .. she’ll never know and she’s fine with that so why dwell on it
HOWEVER she really believes in aliens and she and renjun legit have sat for hours looking online ab alien shit
they’re also both so smart
and she’s always talking about how much she admires renjun’s brain
stans his vocal talent. like. she’s loud about it
fans love this duo a lot nd they have a lot of romantic shippers
even tho .. they have never liked each other that way LMAO
at the airport she links arms with him a lot and they look like they’re gossiping hhhhh
when the dreamies are being too much they just look at each other and fans love that shit
also they’re both arguably the scariest members
renjun because... duh y’all know him
but lily doesn’t get annoyed often. when she does... there’s hell to pay and she has a good punch
“renjun oppa is so good at korean! i’m actually korean and he speaks it better than i do!”
“that’s because i’m smarter than you”
“do you want to die?”
basically just a really close pair! they’re always there for each other 🥺
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JENLY:
she openly says that jeno is the cutest member
“he’s the most adorable person ever! his eyesmile is too cute”
the way she laughed when jeno ripped his shirt off-
she clowned him for DAYS
every time she was wearing a jacket or cardigan she ripped it off and mocked him
also whenever she’s drinking something around him she recreates his milk cf
also!!! she thinks jeno is so funny
she loves him and his humor
she and jeno have a really really deep bond.
he saw her journal (refer to my post about her room) and he’ll take what he read to the grave
he checks in on her a lot because he knows when she’s hurting
when they were trainees she was struck by how kind he was to her
and they were stuck together ever since
lily hasn’t ever been mad at him ONCE
they’re arguably the softest duo
they have a lot of romantic shippers too but
again
it’s a no
she’s a big nomin shipper too like unironically she thinks there’s something there
she always hypes his vocals!! he doesn’t get to sing enough >:(
he’s also her biggest cheerleader and when she cries and gets upset about her dancing he always pulls her aside and consoles her 🥺
he helps her with writing songs too!
wholesome beautiful friendship
they go out to eat a lot
jeno also helps her paint her nails LMAO
and they ride bikes together a lot
can’t commit to working out with him though because it’s way too much for her to do all that
lily also bakes a lot. and jeno appreciates that. a LOT
they’re best friends. she even bought them stupid girly heart bracelets that connect together LMAO
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JIHYUCK:
so much affection!!!!
she is such a hyuck stan
“haechannie is my bias!!”
always calls him fullsun (in english)
number one hyuck skin enthusiast!! she thinks he’s gorgeous and glows brighter than all of them
also she loves his singing and thinks his vocal tone is so unique
always laughs at his jokes and finds him hilarious
he doesn’t prank her as much as the others because he’s actually so sweet to her
he’s used to having a younger sister and thinks of lily as his little sister
they constantly text and facetime a lot since they live in different dorms
she’s lowkey whipped for him and he’s whipped for her
not in a romantic way tho!
another member who always eats her baking
they learn girl group dances together
now we all know damn well that hyuck is the sweetest boy and so full of love
but we also know he annoys the shit out of the members
jimin is NO exception
he pokes fun at her and mocks her all the time
so she slaps him in the back of the head LMAOO
when does she actually get mad tho? when he shows up at the dorms and enters her room without permission
cue her chasing him around the dorms with murder in her eyes
yknow the vine where it’s like
“let me see what you have?”
“a KNIFE”
“NO”
that’s the other guys making sure hyuck doesn’t get brutally murdered
because lily can pack a punch
all in all though, they’re a great duo and they’re always so proud of each other
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JAEJIMIN:
okay jaemin babies the FUCK outta her
he always takes care of her and talks to her about her concerns and vice versa
he was so happy for her when she debuted and was sad he couldn’t be there for it
she visited him all the time when he was gone
and she was heartbroken that he wasn’t with dream
she is a BIG 8dream stan because they are a family
but yeah fans can’t even ship them romantically because they know lily is his lil baby
she helps him with his english
and he always compliments her singing and dancing
proud of her songwriting
so much affection
even tho she hates when he pinches her cheeks n calls her cute
when he came back during go she was overjoyed
“go is our special era! we were all reunited~~”
he always wanted a sister and now he has one <3
she drinks a lot of coffee but not as much as him and was so worried about his health
they’re the biggest flirts w czennies
you’ll always find them with their arms linked in the airport
and everywhere really
during empathy era she was always hugging jaemin’s side
they also do a lot of lives together!!
such cute bffs
she is a big nomin stan like i said
name twins and they always tell everyone that they’re actual siblings
jaemin’s mom is so fond of her and treats her like her own daughter
HE REALLY TRIES TO GIVE HER FASHION ADVICE AND GIVE INPUT ON HOW HER HAIR SHOULD LOOK FOR COMEBACKS
they’re really true siblings and best friends 🥺
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LILLE:
THESE MFS ARE BEST FRIENDS
01’ liners and so similar in ages but he ALWAYS brings up that he’s older
they compete over a lot
literally everything is a competition
she’s at her most childish with him
they also make lots of bets and she usually wins
clowns him for those predebut pics LOL
SHE ALWAYS SEND THEM IN THE GC AND EVEN POSTS THEM ON BUBBLE N SHIT HAHA
they can be really soft but will never admit it even if they are caught on camera
they’re pretty calm if they’re cooking together
he is Banned™️ from her room and she won’t budge at all
“chenle isn’t allowed in my room because he will disturb my peace”
remember on that one ep of weekly idol where chenle was SCREAMING while they did aegyo
yeah it’s louder when lily does aegyo
u didn’t hear it from me but her aegyo is SO cute it’s not as cringey as the others
but chenle hates it because she’s cute and he wants to clown her but he CANT
really proud of each other. super proud of each other
chenle has sat with her as she’s cried a lot. and comforted her. and it always stays between them.
she’s always there for him too
a LOT of fans have suspected that there’s something there
his mom loves her so much!!!!!
when she and jisung went to his house they were BAFFLED and impressed
“something bothers me a lot. one day, chenle woke up and looked grown up. he used to have chubby cheeks and looked like a kid and now he looks like an adult and has such defined cheekbones. it’s so strange”
when they became adults they got SHITFACED DRUNK
they definitely don’t say it a lot and when they do it’s in private (even tho everyone knows)
but they really love each other 🥺
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LILJI:
jisung and lily is
p o p u l a r
with fans
because fans put together the pieces that jisung had a crush on lily during debut
lily thought it was sweet because jisung was always so cute and young
she saw him as a little kid
they used to not have MANY interactions
she always laughs when jisung is bein funny
and is in AWE of his dancing
he always assures her when she gets upset about her dancing
lilchenji is an ICONIC friendship
they watch a lot of movies together
she’s been on chenjis this and that a few times
remember that live when nomin got all in each other’s faces while chenji just froze and looked at them and then looked at the camera and looked real shocked
she was there and the three of them were like 😶
so yeah when jisung started getting really tall lily was real confused
and then somehow
during go and we go up
jisung started looking different. like. more grown up
and he had more confidence and talked to her more
and lily was like 😳😳
but spoilers so i won’t go too deep into that
they’re really good friends these days tho
the fans LOVE THEM it’s such a popular ship
at the dream shows when they sing bye my first
the song that lily famously LOVES
yknow that one line jisung has where the music goes quiet and he goes
“na geuttaeneun cham eoryeosseo”
blessed line it was beautiful
anyway at the dream show jisung would hold the mic to lily and have her sing the line or they’d duet it
and their eye contact!!!! and lily’s SMILE IS SO BRIGHT
stars in their eyes
um anyway!! they’re great friends nd very shippable for. reasons!
author’s note! i’m also a ‘01 liner! so don’t think it’s weird if i’m writing a jisung romance LMAO or who knows if it’ll be jisung? 👀👀
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Text
Another Soulmate AU because I guess that’s who I am now
Aizawa grows up hearing from every reliable source that someday he’s going to meet his soulmate - the perfect person for him, someone who will understand him completely, be perfect for him, etc etc. It’s supposed to be a happy thought, but it’s really not - Shouta had a difficult home life, anyone who can understand that perfectly is going to be as messed up as him. And Shouta doesn’t know if he’s in a good enough place himself to help. He wants to focus on becoming a hero, on getting out of his shitty home and not looking back. Hizashi Yamada is the name on his wrist, and whoever that is, Shouta is scared of the responsibility he has to him. 
So Shouta starts working twice as hard, three times as hard. He was already planning to save himself, he can save his soulmate too. That’s fine. He works hard in school, he gets into UA, he fights his way into the hero course. 
Where he meets Hizashi Yamada, and all his plans and assumptions shake apart. This is his soulmate? This is the person who’s supposed to understand Shouta, this smiling, friendly genius who makes everything seem so effortless? How can he possibly understand anything? What has he ever worked for? Who’s ever told him he can’t do something? Even now, after a lifetime of work, Shouta is still behind the other students, physically and academically. But Yamada is at the top of the class, he takes down his classmates with ease during quirk training, and he still has time to chat about his friends and hobbies. His future is bright. He couldn’t be more different from Shouta. This is clearly some kind of cosmic joke.
Yamada is, of course, thrilled to meet his soulmate. He’s nothing but excitement, wanting to learn everything about Shouta on the first day, offering to meet up after school to train or study or just ‘hang out.’ He talks about how great it is that they’re both going to be heroes, as if that weren’t far from guaranteed in Shouta’s case. Shouta learns Yamada speaks English fluently and is learning Mandarin, that he plays three instruments and has his own podcast, that he has an internship lined up at a radio station, because he wants to be a DJ as well as a hero.
How can Shouta tell him about himself? How his own dad goes weeks without speaking to him, how every adult in his life has told him that with a quirk like his, he’s not going to make it as a hero. How his grades are middling because half the time when he gets home he’s too exhausted to study. He looks into Yamada’s beautiful smiling eyes and knows he’s going to drag this boy down like an anchor. That somehow, some way, this has all gone wrong, and it’s probably Shouta’s fault like everything else. 
“This isn’t right,” he says abruptly, in the middle of Yamada’s story about his summer abroad. 
Yamada pauses mid-sentence, brows furrowed. “Do you not like your drink?”
“It’s fine,” Shouta shoves away the overpriced coffee Yamada had bought him on the latest of their outings. “But this-” he gestures between himself and Yamada. “This is a mistake.”
Yamada blinks. “Your name is on my arm,” he says slowly, like he’s trying to understand. “My name is on your arm. That’s a pretty big coincidence.”
“It must be,” Shouta tries hard to keep his voice even, calm. Certain. He doesn’t want to string Yamada along. “Or the universe was wrong.”
“Oh.” Is the only thing Yamada says. The friendly light is gone from his eyes, replaced by blankness, and Shouta hates it, but knows this was inevitable. Better now than in the future, when he’s made things even worse. 
“We’re not soulmates,” he says as he stands up, wanting to be completely clear. “I’m sorry.”
He leaves without letting Yamada get another word in. He doesn’t want to hear any arguments - this was hard enough. The latest in a long line of cruelties from the universe,  a perfect soulmate dangled in front of him as if it could actually be his. He doesn’t sleep that night. It’s hard for him to cry, but a few tears manage to escape, and it makes him even angrier. He should be used to disappointments like this. He’s an idiot to have hoped for something different. 
He slinks into class the next morning, praying Yamada won’t say anything to him. His hopes are dashed immediately as Yamada stands before his desk, expectantly. “I didn’t change my mind,” Shouta says, tiredly. 
“I know,” Yamada says. Shouta doesn’t think he’s ever heard him sound that subdued. “And I - I understand.” Good. Shouta hoped Yamada would get it, would see that they’re just too different, that he could do so much better. “But I’d like to still be friends. Even if you don’t want to be soulmates.”
Shouta opens his mouth to correct him. It’s not that he doesn’t want to - who wouldn’t want to be Yamada’s soulmate? Yamada is bright and beautiful and warm, admirable in every way. If Shouta really was his soulmate, he’d be over the moon. But he gets stuck on Yamada’s request. “You want to be friends?” Yamada nods, and Shouta considers. He can’t see the harm in it, aside from the inevitable pain he’ll feel when Yamada wises up and realizes that Shouta brings nothing to the table here. But that’s bearable, surely, a fair price for getting to stay in Yamada’s orbit, to spend time with him once in a while. It will hurt when Yamada moves on, but everything worthwhile Shouta’s ever had has hurt. “Okay.”
Yamada smiles, nothing like the big grins he usually flashes at Shouta, but an improvement over the solemn look he’s been wearing since yesterday, and Shouta can’t help echoing it, just a little. 
Being Yamada’s friend is unlike anything Shouta has experienced before. Yamada - Hizashi - is thoughtful and kind, always looking for ways to make Shouta’s life easier and more fun. At his insistence, they visit arcades and cat cafes, they study together for exams and train together after school. It’s good practice for Shouta, working against an opponent with a powerful quirk, and Hizashi seems to appreciate the opportunity to refine his technique. Shouta starts spending most days at Hizashi’s, and a lot of nights too, and it’s so different, not spending all his free time alone in an empty house. Some afternoons he falls into a nap while Hizashi practices his guitar, and it’s the most at peace he’s ever been. 
Sometimes people ask Hizashi if he’s found his soulmate, and the first few times he glanced at Shouta out of the corner of his eye before shaking his head. But as time goes on his answer comes quicker and more firmly, that he hasn’t, but it’s no big deal. It hurts, though Shouta doesn’t know quite why. They’re not soulmates, Shouta knows that, would say so himself if he were asked. But hearing it makes Shouta’s chest burn, puts him out of sorts for the rest of the day, even though it’s irrational and unfair. 
He thinks it will get easier as they get older, but it doesn’t. They move in together after graduation - it’s only logical, when they get along so well - and Shouta can’t imagine life without Hizashi. In his darkest moments, he wonders what it would have been like if he hadn’t told Hizashi the truth, if he’d simply carried on as if they were soulmates. Would they still get along so well? Would they be even closer, would Hizashi let Shouta kiss him in the mornings, when his eyes were half-shut with tiredness and his hair still messy with sleep? Or would it be obvious something was wrong, that Shouta was a jagged, misfit puzzle-piece? Would the wrongness of it have driven Hizashi away, would Shouta be more alone than ever? 
Years go by, and slowly, Shouta stops waiting for Hizashi to drop him. He was an idiot to think that, he realizes now. Hizashi isn’t that type of person. He’s too kind for that, too loyal, and every day Shouta gets some new reminder of how important he is too Hizashi. Hizashi makes him real meals to eat, finishes his paperwork half the time when Shouta is so tired he can’t read the pages, and when Shouta just can’t face going out, Hizashi will run interference for him with their friends, cancelling their plans and setting up a quiet evening at home with takeout and a movie. He seems to have a sixth sense for what Shouta needs, and never begrudges him anything.
Shouta tries to do the same for Hizashi, as best he can. He’s learned a lot about his friend over the years, things he never would have imagined when they first met. Like how Hizashi’s happy home life was a relatively new thing for him, that before he started at UA he’d been passed from home to home, returned by otherwise well-meaning parents when his quirk became too unmanageable. Hizashi calls his foster mother every Saturday, and after they talk he always smiles at Shouta and says “Guess she didn’t forget about me yet.” And it’s a joke but it also isn’t, and that’s Shouta’s cue to make him his favorite tea and put on that awful singing show he likes. 
He also learns that even though Hizashi makes it all look easy, he works harder than anyone else Shouta knows. He’s up every day before the sun, working on his radio show or filling out police reports, cleaning or repairing his hero gear, getting his chores done. And he falls into bed well into the night, after a long day of patrol and radio work and practicing and training. Sometimes Shouta has to lay across Hizashi’s lap just to pin him to the couch for a few extra minutes. He doesn’t mind, it always makes Hizashi laugh. 
Hizashi gets asked about his soulmate a lot now, almost every day it seems like, either on the radio or when he’s being interviewed or by his fans. He doesn’t even blink before answering, distracting his audience with a wide grin as he tells them no, he hasn’t met his soulmate yet, as if Shouta weren’t listening, as if that brief window of might have been had never happened. Shouta doesn’t know if he thinks about it, if he ever looks up the other Shouta Aizawas to see if one of them is his real match. (There are 34 in Japan, 7 are the right age for Hizashi, and exactly 0 are good enough, in Shouta’s personal opinion.) Shouta wishes Hizashi would tell them yes, that he has met his soulmate, if only so that they’d stop asking and Shouta wouldn’t have to listen to Hizashi say no again and again and again.
“Why don’t you lie,” Shouta asks one night, while they’re making dinner and listening to Hizashi’s latest interview.
“Hmm?” Hizashi doesn’t look up from the vegetables he’s chopping. 
“About your soulmate. It must get annoying that people keep asking whether or not you’ve met them. If you said you had, they’d stop. So why not lie?”
“I do lie,” Hizashi says calmly, sliding the diced carrots into the pot.
“What?” Shouta says, tone and mind completely blank. 
Hizashi sighs. He puts the cutting board down, wipes the knife with a dishcloth before laying it safely on the counter. “Let’s not talk about it, all right?”
“I want to talk about it,” Shouta says instantly, even if he isn’t quite sure that’s true. Hizashi has met his soulmate? When? Whey didn’t he tell him? Why aren’t they together? Why is Hizashi still here, with him. Why why why-
“Why?” Hizashi asks. “I’ve - you made yourself clear, years ago, and I’ve tried really hard to be respectful of that. Your friendship means so much to me - it’s enough, really. I know you don’t want to be soulmates, and that’s fine. And it’s kind of you to try to spare my feelings. But you really don’t have to pretend this is some random coincidence, or whatever. I’m an adult and I can handle the truth.”
“The truth?” Shouta asks, because he genuinely has no idea what Hizashi is saying. 
Hizashi presses his lips together, clearly frustrated that Shouta is making him say it. “That you want us not to be soulmates. I tell people I haven’t met my soulmate yet because that’s what you want. Can we go back to just never talking about this please?”
“You think we’re soulmates?” Shouta says, dumbly. He doesn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t know what he means to say, his thoughts feel too heavy to sort through.
“Dammit!” Hizashi slams the wooden spoon he’d been stirring with against the counter. He turns towards Shouta, shoving his sleeve messily up to his elbow. “Look!” He says, pointing to the mark on his arm. “That is your name! You expect me to believe that’s some coincidence? That you’re not the first one I want to see in the morning, and the last person I want to see at night? When you’re the only one who can cheer me up when I’m sad, or calm me down when I’m anxious? Last year, when I got my big promotion, all I could fucking think was how I couldn’t wait to tell you, how I hoped you’d be proud of me. I’ve loved you since I was fifteen fucking years old, Shouta! And I get that I’m not what you wanted and I’m sorry for that, but let’s not fucking pretend, all right?”
“You’re… not what I wanted?” Shouta echoes, too stunned to do anything else.
“I know,” Hizashi leans tiredly against the counter. “It wasn’t a shock, you know. I was used to people not staying. It meant a lot to me that you were willing to try to be friends. It still does. I’m not going to make it weird, we didn’t open Pandora’s box just now or anything. Nothing’s gonna change. But it’s easier for me if we don’t talk about it, okay?”
“No,” Shouta says instantly. He’s not sure what’s going on, what else to say, how everything has changed so much in just a few minutes, but he knows that what happens next matters. “This is a mistake.”
Hizashi flinches, apparently those words still sting. “Shouta-”
“My mistake,” Shouta corrects. “I - you should never have thought that. That you weren’t what I wanted. That’s not what I meant at all. You’re - you’re perfect. You were perfect. And I’m just - me and it had to be a mistake, do you understand? I don’t get perfect things. It had to be a mistake.”
“You,” Hizashi swallows. “You thought I was perfect? Back then? Not… not annoying or too loud?”
 Shouta shakes his head. “Not annoying or loud. You were perfect. You’re still perfect.”
There’s a long moment of silence. Shouta has no idea what Hizashi is going to say next, if he’ll be angry Shouta put him through years of self-doubt, if he’ll be sad, if he even still wants to be soulmates. His hands are trembling, he wishes he had his scarf to hide in, that Hizashi would just say something and end his suffering. 
“You deserve perfect things,” is what Hizashi finally says, in the end. He sounds hesitant, but not uncertain. Shouta reaches for him, half-expecting Hizashi to shatter apart like everything he touches, but Hizashi’s arm is warm and solid under his hand. Steady. “Nothing has to change.” Hizashi’s voice wavers on his promise, like he’s trying to stay calm for Shouta’s sake. 
But Shouta doesn’t need that, has never needed Hizashi to be anything but entirely himself. “Can it though?”
He’s prepared for hesitation. He’s prepared for a kind no or, at most, a wary, conditional yes. He is not prepared for Hizashi’s arms to wrap around him, to feel Hizashi sigh against his neck like he’s finally able to rest after a long, long day. “Whatever you want,” Hizashi murmurs. 
Slowly, slowly, Shouta brings his arms up to return the embrace. Hizashi feels so right in his arms, perfect as always, and Shouta trembles at the thought of being able to hold him like this for as long as he wants. Hizashi leans into him, but that’s all right, Shouta is steady enough for the both of them, can prop Hizashi up if he needs it. He understands now, that’s what they’ve been doing for each other all along. 
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gt-fluffy-vore · 4 years
Text
Mindtrapped Chapter one: 911
Sanders Sides fanfiction
Warnings: Car crash, panic, GT, not being able to control one’s own abilities, mention of rape, mention of murder
2103 words.
Thomas was forty minutes into his two hour drive to Daytona Beach, where he'd be staying for a well needed, if not modest, vacation, and already he regretted it. It was Virgil and The Duke who were to blame. Not only would they not leave him alone, they wouldn't leave each other alone either.  And, much to The Duke's pleasure, he was beginning to wonder if driving himself into oncoming traffic would be a better alternative to these two… But he hadn't meant to actually do it…
"Thomas, you'll be staying in a hotel, will you not?"
"Uh, yeah? So?"
"So?!" Remus let out a laugh. "Oh, Thomas. What are hotels for?"
"Sleeping? Watching cartoons if you pay for a nice one?"
He sighed amidst another laugh. "Ah, Thomas, you have got to stop ignoring these things! Hotels are for sex! Rape! Eh, occasional murder if you're feeling particularly… horny."
"That…" Virgil groaned. "That has nothing to do with why hotels are a bad idea… But they are a bad idea…"
"Uh-huh…" Thomas was getting aggravated again. Or rather, he was getting pissed off. Couldn't they just shut up and let him concentrate on driving?!
"Especially if you don't have a really nice one…"
"Virgil, I do have a really nice hotel. That's why this is called a vacation."
"But what if it's not as nice as you think it is? Or, what if it is exactly as nice as you think it is and you get killed anyway?!"
"O-Okay, when - when did we ever mention getting killed?"
Remus sighed. "Sex, rape, occasional murder, it's like you're not even listening to yourself right now! Ha! That was a joke." He cleared his throat and continued. "Anyway, the risk of getting killed is half the fun! That's the excitement of it!"
Virgil groaned, answering through gritted teeth. "That's not exciting. Danger is not exciting. It's… dangerous, that's… that's the point of danger."
"Well sure it's dangerous, but what's life without risk? That's like a cheap hotel without endlessly stained bedsheets."
Thomas and Virgil's faces both shot red. "L-Life without risk is safe! And… comfortable."
"And what good does comfort do if it makes life so bland it's hardly worth living anymore?!"
Thomas had finally had it. Stupidly, he turned away from the road to glare furiously at the two in the back seat so he could shout at them directly. "Just SHUT UP!"
"911, what's your emergency?"
"I - I think I just hit someone. I mean, I did hit someone! I-I don't know what happened! One second the road was empty, and the next they swerved right in front of me!"
"Okay, take a deep breath. Are there any young children in the vehicle?"
"Uh, n-no. It's just the one guy."
"Alright. Can you tell if they're breathing?"
"Um… Y-Yeah? I-I think so…"
"Okay, that's very good. Now can you tell me exactly where you are right now? We're going to send an ambulance to you."
"Um, y-yeah… But - but is he gonna be okay?"
"The EMT's will do the best they can to take care of him."
"Okay… I just… I'm a really big fan of this man's work…"
--------------------
Meanwhile, every one of the Sides simultaneously lost their vision, which was unsettling enough on it's own, until they all collapsed in unison in their rooms seconds later…
The first to wake up was Patton, who groaned and sat up slowly, blinking his eyes open. He was met with… well he wasn't even sure what it was. Some kind of… yard? Thing? Surrounding him were… the sky was made of stone?! Wait, no, it was just really, really tall cobblestone walls. They were thousands of feet high… And now that he thought about it, he could only see one actual wall, which meant that this yard thing was probably thousands of feet wide as well. Whatever this place is aside, where even was he? Was he in the real world? He definitely wasn't in his room… Was he in the mind palace in some way? He didn't see Thomas anywhere… Oh, no! He scrambled to his feet. "Roman! Logan! Noooooo! My makeup adorned angel-son!" Breaking into tears, he stumbled towards Logan, the closest one to him, who was sprawled out on the cement floor, unconscious, silently reminding himself not to use the cheerful nicknames for Virgil - he expressly said he didn't like that. "Logan! Please! Please, wake up! Uh… uh… water!" He summoned a water bottle and… uh, he summoned a water bottle… He tried again. Why wasn't it working? Maybe just try one more time, maybe he was doing something wrong. Nope. He couldn't summon anything. Uh, no water then. Frustrated and more worried than anything else, he reached out a hand and patted the side of his face. Nothing. "Logan, please!" Moaning nervously and playing with his fingers, he finally gave in and smacked Logan's face gently. "I'msosorryLoganpleaseforgivemeIdidn'twanttoIpromiseIjustwantyoutobeokayI'msorry!"
Finally, Logan shifted and groaned, then slowly sat up. "Where are w-" 
Patton interrupted him by pulling him into a tight hug. "Logan, oh my gosh, you're okay!"
"Yes, Patton, I am 'okay'. Now would you please… be so kind… as to release me?"
"Oh!" Laughing nervously, he pulled back. "Sorry, kiddo." He grinned, stepped back, then let his face drop. "Logan… where are we?"
Logan looked around, took in his surroundings, and after a long time, he sighed in defeat. "I… I don't believe I have ever had to say this before… Patton, I… I don't know…"
There was a groan nearby as someone sat up. "You? You, Logic… doesn't know?"
"You are fully aware this is not a fact I am proud of!"
Patton rushed over and helped Virgil to his feet. "You alright? Nothing hurts?"
"Uh, all in one piece and pain free… Well, physical pain at least…"
"So normal for you, right?"
"I guess… I just wish we knew what was going on…"
Patton sighed. "Me too… But hey! We can figure it out, right Logan?"
"Um, yes! Yes, of course we can."
"But we gotta wake Roman up first… He looks really Rom-out of it. Yeah? Get it?" Logan and Virgil both glared. "Okay, okay, I get it… Not funny… But how should we wake him up?"
"Allow me." Logan stepped over to him, crouched down and held his hand out. "Um..." He shook his hand and tried again.
"Ooooh, yeah, I tried that first to wake you up, and for some reason we can't… summon things here."
"Well that's… inconvenient. I suppose I will be using... other methods." He cleared his throat, then said rather loudly, "Disney is officially cancelled until further notice."
"WHAT?!" Suddenly they all scrambled away, Logan being flung by the sudden, drastic change. "Oh, it's just you. Why are you all so tiny? And where are we?"
"We have yet to make that conclusion. And we are not the ones who are small, actually no one is small, it is you who has changed size." Logan rose to his feet and dusted himself off, then straightened his tie and looked up at him.
"Okay, I-" Virgil groaned. "I knew you were extra, but this is just… Is this really necessary?"
"Is what-oh good galloping parahnas! How long have I been this size?!"
"Precisely fifty-six seconds — since you became conscious that is. One minute and one second now, one minute and three seconds, one minute and-"
"Yes we get the idea thank you very much."
"Hey Roman? Not tryna rush you or anything, but could you maybe change back? Ya know, to normal size? Not that I have anything against you being a giant, it just makes it hard to hear ya up there."
"Do not fret dear Patton! I shall return to my normal size this instant!" After a silent moment where his size changed absolutely not at all, his face dropped. "Okay, now you can fret."
"Why?" Logan straightened his glasses. "Why haven't you withdrawn your size?"
"I… it seems I… can't."
"Well of course you can! What's stoppin ya, kiddo?"
"Nothing's stopping me, I just… can't. I can't shape-shift! At all!"
Virgil looked up. "You mean you're stuck like that?"
"Y-Yes!"
"What happens when Thomas calls you to the real world then?"
"Oh, no! If - If I can't shape-shift anymore and I can't return to our size then… then I'll never get to talk to Thomas again! I'll never be a part of another video! Ever! Logan, you must help me! You'll help me, won't you?!"
"You asked me for help? You must be desperate."
"Logan, can't you hear how desperate I am?! Help me… please."
Logan blinked, genuinely surprised. Roman was asking him for help, and he said please? "Of course I'll help you, Roman. Now the first step to this process is to deduce where in Thomas's mind we actually are. And since we are unable to leave, the probability of actually getting to a conclusion is growing slim…"
"What do you mean, we can't leave?"
"I mean exactly that, Virgil. I have attempted to leave this… domain a number of times now, to no avail. There is also the dilemma of Roman's new size…"
They all glanced at him. He was nearly fifty feet tall now, towering above them all. "We're all aware I hate every bit of this, right?" Virgil groaned.
Roman sighed dramatically. “I’m not exactly thrilled about this either. Although… it has always been a dream of mine to experience the life of a giant…”
"Congratulations," Logan sighed. "Now how to reverse it… I'd have to know what caused this, and to know that would be to understand this new domain… Argh, this entire line of reasoning is a paradox!" He took a deep breath. "No, no it's not. There has to be a way to learn more about this place without speaking to Thomas… Firstly, I assume you cannot return to your normal size either, Patton? Or… Um, form?”
“What do ya mean?” It was only then that he, and Virgil, realized that he’d slowly been shrinking and changing form. He was now about two feet tall and had floppy blue dog ears replacing his own, and sharp, pointed teeth, and his fingernails were pointed into tiny claws. They also noticed he had a visible layer of fur covering his body. “Well how did I not notice this before! I don’t remember shape-shifting.”
Virgil shook his head. “How did I not notice that?”
“Oh, well. Time to test your theory, Logan!” There was an awkward pause where Patton threw a hand into the air above him, then looked down at himself. “Welp, looks like your theory’s right! I… can’t shape-shift either. What about you?”
“Neither can I. Virgil?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“So none of us has any control over our morphing abilities… Unless… I hate to bring them into this, but has anyone seen The Duke or Deceit around?” They shook their heads — all except for Patton. “Patton?”
He was staring up at Roman, jaw dropped. “Uh, what?” he muttered, still not looking away. His ears were flatter than before against his head and his long tail was curled around one leg. Wait, tail? When did that show up?
“Um, Logan, is it just me or is he still shrinking?”
Logan cursed under his breath. “Patton. Patton!”
“Uh, wh-what?” He set a hand on Patton’s shoulder, and Patton flinched and looked up at him, then laughed nervously. “Heh, wow, I just keep gettin’ smaller, huh?” He was barely taller than a foot now, and still trying to force a grin.
“I have a few ideas as to why our abilities are acting like this, but I’ll need more information first…  I’ve never seen anything like this.” The one thing he wasn’t thinking about was how monstrously huge Roman, currently fifty feet tall, must look from the point of view of someone who’s only a foot tall. Even against him or Virgil, Patton only reached just under their knees now, and with no way to turn back. But of course, Logan wasn’t even considering that Patton was scared. “Roman. Can you think of anything Thomas has watched or read lately that might inspire changes like this?”
“Um… I don’t think so… Why, do you think Thomas is doing this to us?”
“I think his subconscious may be forcing this…”
“So you think Thomas is doing this… on accident...”
“It’s not that simple, Roman. I don’t think Thomas actively has any idea what’s currently happening here. But we are still in Thomas’s mind… I just have to find out where…”
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danetobelieve · 4 years
Text
Don’t Overlook The Little Things || Rio and Winston
When: the evening of 03/07/2020 Who: @3starsquinn​ & @danetobelieve​ Where: Various Summary: Winston and Rio give Ricky the house for the night.  Warnings: N/A
Winston had been on a few shitty dates before. None of them memorable enough to be anything more then a speed bump in the rocky road to love. Despite that however, they were convinced that they were going to do everything that they could to make this good for Orion. After the week that they had had, plus the fact that Ricky had asked for the house that evening, well Winston was going to do what they could to keep them busy. They had it all planned down to a tee. Their old car sucked, apart from the fact that it was abnormally large. Too large to be good for driving, or even really too large to be useful. But for once this would be a good thing, so as Winston double checked everything, they turned to find Rio leaving their house. They were a bit early, but Winston was ready. Had been ready for the last hour and had been frantically checking everything over. “You ready?” they waved and quickly made their way over to him. He was healing amazingly, maybe that was his physiology but Winston was glad. They hated to see him in pain and the cuts and bruises were an uncomfortable reminder of what Orion had been through. “I’ve got everything we need for a fun night of avoiding hearing our favourite roommate have …” they looked around mockingly, “S … E …  X.” Each letter was spelled as if this were taboo. Teasing Ricky was Winston’s favourite passtime, especially when he wasn’t there. “I’m kidding of course, we’re gonna have fun. I promise.” 
Despite what had happened that week, or maybe because of it, there was absolutely nothing Orion would rather do tonight. Rio and Winston had not had a change to hang out alone since the kiss. Even Winston’s time in the hospital was mostly populated by a revolving door of guests coming to visit. And now… well was hanging out even the right word anymore? Or was this more of a date now? Rio wished that he was more up to date with terminology than he was. But part of taking it slow meant exactly that, not rushing into any serious labelling or expectation. This could be just like any other time that the two hung out before that party. More hand holding wouldn’t be bad though. Rio’s body still felt sore, mostly around his chest and stomach, but getting thrown into a tree would do that to a person. The swelling in his cheek had gone down at least, and his black eye had even started to fade. A tiny bit at least. As long as Winston wasn’t suggesting the two go out hiking or kickboxing tonight, Rio should be fine. “I am beyond excited! To hang out with you of course and mostly to avoid hearing Ricky’s night. My ears are way too sensitive for that.” He grinned at Winston, skipping a few steps ahead of them and resting his arm on the passenger side car door, “So, have you already picked out where we’re going? You seem pretty confident right now. Like you already have a plan in place.” Whatever that was, Rio was excited for it. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as he was with them.
Fiddling with their glasses, Winston shrugged and smiled gently. “I do have a plan for tonight, I would think that the fact that i’ve pre-packed the car but not told you anything about it would let you know that. But for this to work, you’ve got to tell me what your favourite drive thru food place to go is, doesn’t matter what it is and you can’t think about it. Just tell me what you want to eat and we’ll stop by on the way.” Winston knew that they had snacks -- they had a cool box full of literally any sort of drink that Rio could want and another full of every snack that they could think of and a few more that they had blackmailed Ricky into baking for them -- but if this was a date then they needed dinner too and since Ricky was going to potentially be busy for a while, Winston wanted to make sure that they had lots to do. “I hope that my humble plans are going to be up to the excitement and anticipation that you’re falsely experiencing. In fact, just whatever you think we’re gonna do, tone it down by one hundred.” Winston grinned. “Because it’ll probably suck, low low low expectations.” ‘
“That’s a lot of pressure on me” Orion whined, but did as instructed. No thinking. And definitely no overthinking, as Rio so often did. Just say something. “I could really go for like a ridiculously large burger right now. And fries.” He nodded. Pretty basic as far as food options go. And certainly something that Rio should be tired of by now, but he was the one that had just been traumatized by trolls in the woods. And Winston seemed eager to go with whatever Rio wanted. “I’m very intrigued by what you have in mind by the way.” Rio climbed into the car and settled in, eyeing all the different things in the back and studying them curiously, head tilting as his mind tried coming up with ideas, “This is all very suspicious.” Rio stated, glancing back over at Winston who seemed to be purposely trying to keep any emotion off of their face to avoid spoiling it. “I have way more faith in you than you seem to,” Rio flicked Winston’s arm and settled back into the passenger seat, “But regardless, I’ve never done anything like this before. So there aren’t any expectations anyways We could be driving to an empty field to just sit in your car and it would be pretty freaking awesome.” What could possibly be bad about spending time with Winston? “Do I get a hint? Or am I stuck completely in the dark? I already know the answer of course you’re keeping me in the dark. Because you love torturing me.” But Winston was really cute with that annoying grin on their face. Maybe Rio should tell him that. Ariana said that Rio should talk about it more. And despite how awkward it sounded… wasn’t this exactly what the two had spent five hours in a Ferris Wheel talking about? “In a cute way I mean. You torture me cutely. Or you’re cute and torture me. Or something flirty.” Did Rio just say flirty? Oh god. 
“Al’s it is,” Winston said as a cold familiar sense of sadness at the thought of that place washed over them. Winston pushed it away. They hadn’t even really known Celeste, only by association to Ariana. She wouldn’t want that from them. “I’m definitely going to get a shake too.” Winston slipped their keys into the ignition and turned them. The engine rolled over once, then twice before roaring into life. Winston thanked whatever gods they didn’t believe in and smiled. “With this car, you can never be too sure that you’re going to actually get it started,” Winston smiled gently with fondness at the nostalgia that the car that they and their siblings had all learned to drive in, passing it from one to the other until Winston inherited it eventually. “I know that you’ll like it.” Winston had seen Rio say that they would love to do it once before, a while ago, online and it had stuck in their mind. “Okay, I am not going to make you sit in my car in a field that would be very lame,” Winston pulled out onto the main road and began the drive over to Al’s, mouth already watering a little at the thought of milkshakes. “Okay, okay, let me try and think of an appropriately cryptic clue. This is something that is kinda cliche, you can only do it at night and it’s basically a horror trope at this point, or a coming of age teenager movie trope, something like that.” 
Orion was happy with Al’s. Since it was open all the time, Rio found himself stopping there on multiple occasions to grab food after a Scribe building purge. Aside from that one time that Winston’s mime clone had fireballed Rio through the window, he mostly had positive experiences with the place. Of course, he had heard about Celeste, even if he had never met her in person. She sounded like a good person. A hunter that Rio would have gotten along with. He just wished that things had not turned out the way that they had. It wasn’t fair, what had happened to her or what was taken from Ariana. “This car is fiiiiine” Rio dragged the word out as he tried to convince himself that the car really was in good shape. “The good news is, I know a great mechanic. Alain can fix anything.” So Winston was confident that Rio was going to like the surprise. “It would not be lame. Nothing with you is lame.” Rio was completely confident that they two would have a lot of fun hanging out in an empty field, but he was excited to see what Winston actually had in store for them. The hint left Rio scoffing, “A horror movie trope? That’s romantic.” Rio joked, lightly rubbing at the pain in his side that erupted anytime he laughed or breathed too heavily. “Are you taking me to a summer camp? Some old haunted mansion? The catacombs? That’s horror movie material for sure. You know one of the first horror films ever made was about a haunted mansion? It was this French silent film called Le Manoir du diable. It translates to The House of the Devil, but was released in the US as The Haunted Castle. The whole thing was like two and half minutes long. So uh- pretty short.” Winston pulled into Al’s so the two could get their food and head towards… wherever they were going. Rio settled on a double cheeseburger, fries and a chocolate milkshake. A classic. As they left the parking lot, all Rio could smell was the food. “I’m so excited to eat. I haven’t had an appetite for a few days now and uh- hunter’s need more energy than normal.”
“Alain has tried to fix this car, but it’s not really worth the money it would cost to fix it and I’m not looking for a new car right now.” Winston could’ve bought a new one with the money Lydia gave them, Deirdre had even offered to buy them one but Winston wasn’t ready for it yet. Soon they were sure that they would have no choice when Winston’s piece of shit broke down. “I think it would be pretty boring, no offence, but there’s a limit to what you can do in an open field, not when there’s other things we could be doing, but you know if the field sounds more appealing then I can change our plans.” Winston smiled gently, they had never tried to be romantic before and this was a new stroke for them. “Well, you’ll have to let me know.” Winston paused for a second and laughed. “No, none of the above. Although, I didn’t know that the french were the people to coin the original horror movie, somehow the country to invent mimes being the country to release the first horror movie seems oddly fitting. Was The House of the Devil the home to mimes by any chance?” Winston smirked gently as they approached, Winston all but copied Rio’s order before pulling off towards Overlook. 
Orion nodded, happy that Winston was content with the car. “Well I love this thing.” He agreed, patting the dashboard affectionately. Winston joked with Rio, threatening to change the plans and drive them both to an empty field. “Don’t you dare. I want to do whatever you had planned. Don’t make me beg. I have no shame.” Rio crossed his arms to feign pouting. Thankfully, they weren’t going to any of those places. Which Rio would totally have pretended to enjoy if he had to. “No mimes involved, I don’t think. Just the devil. So not nearly as terrifying as this town, honestly.” Rio shrugged, unsurprised that White Crest took the award for most terrifying. Winston was driving them out of town. His mind started racing with ideas. Were they leaving White Crest altogether? Rio tapped a finger against his chin as he tried to think. The hint finally made sense about a mile from the drive in. The classic trope, a small town tradition and one of Rio’s favorite places in town. “Holy crap!” Rio perked up, swatting at Winston’s arm excitedly and bouncing in his seat, “How’d you know how much I love this place? Why are you so incredible?” Rio asked Winston curiously, finally breaking down and digging into their bag to pull out a single fry. “I- thank you. I’ve never actually been here… in a car… with someone.”
“Someone has to I guess,” Winston couldn’t help but smile. Rio gave them a warm feeling in their stomach, one that they were honestly unfamiliar with. They’d had friends before but they weren’t sure if they had ever actually felt like this about someone else. “Don’t worry, we were never going to go and sit in a field, even I am not that boring.” Winston grinned as they watched Rio’s reactions. They weren’t ever sure that they had seen him look this ecstatic for something in a while. “I have my ways, but yeah, first proper completely real and legitimate date tonight, I thought that it was probably worth making sure that it was cute and stuff, because … I know things are kind of shitty for everyone right now and I know that you and me are new at this, but, you really really matter and this is my way of showing you.” Winston took a long drink from their milkshake as they showed their tickets and pulled into their spot. “So; we’ve got dinner,” Winston twisted over, unbuckling their seatbelt and popping the lids off of the coolers; “snacks and beverages of your favourite variety. I don’t actually know what they’re showing tonight, I decided I deserved a tiny surprise.” 
Orion couldn’t believe that this was the place that Winston had chosen, of all places. It had been sort of a safe haven for Rio growing up. Before he went back to the Scribe building and had nowhere to go, Rio would often come here to pass the time when he didn’t want to go home. And when he didn’t have the extra money to get in, he would hang out in the forest outside of the Overlook, listening to the movie instead of watching it. But as amazing at this was, the most exciting thing about the night by far was the fact that Winston had just used the word date. This totally was a date. That was real. “This is incredible. Really. You literally could not have picked a better place.” He didn’t care that bouncing up and down hurt his ribs, he was too excited to give in to the pain right now. “Wait have you never been here before?” Rio turned, excited that he got to be here for their first experience with it, if so. “I used to walk here, hang out by the concession stand and watch some of the movies or- sometimes I’d just listen to the movies from farther away.” They were mostly happy memories, despite how sad they may have sounded. “Friday’s are uh- romance. Ironically.” Rio laughed nervously. Rio couldn’t understand why it made him so nervous to think about the word romance. Especially after how excited he got when Winston said date. Maybe because romance sounded more serious. “But I don’t know what movies will be playing.” He readjusted to try to get more comfortable, taking a big gulp from the milkshake and grabbing their food from the takeout bag and handing Winston’s off to them. “Actually, before the movie gets started. There was something I wanted to ask you about?”
Raising an eyebrow slightly, Winston shook their head. “My siblings love this place, this was where they would all take their various boyfriends, girlfriends and partners when they were living at home and dating people, but I never really did that and never really had anyone else to go with. If we were gonna watch a movie with Nell or someone I watched it at theirs, but this is better.” Winston reached over and took Rio’s hand in their own now that they didn’t have to use them both to drive.  Their fingers slipping easily into the gaps in Orion’s hand. This was going way better then they’d thought it would already and Winston hoped nothing went wrong. “I just wanted to make sure that this was really special, cause, you matter.” Raising an eyebrow again, a smile creeped across Winston’s mouth and they couldn’t help but laugh. “Fridays are for Rio, Saturdays are for the boys or something like that?” They didn’t mind. Romance movies was something that they could stomach and if it was with Rio then it would definitely be worth it. Taking their burger off of Rio, Winston smiled and nodded. “Okay, sure, no problem at all. What’s up?” they ate a handful of fries waiting for Rio’s question. 
“I used to come alone,” Orion admitted, slightly embarrassed by the fact. “I know Drive-in’s aren’t exactly like a… come by yourself sorta place. So it was a little weird. But it was something to do at least.” He wondered for a moment how life would be different if he had started making friends before graduation? What if Rio and Blanche had found a way to talk during high school? They had shared enough classes. What if Winston and Rio had met? Would things be any different than they are now? Rio didn’t think it was worth the risk. For everything that seemed to be going on around them, he wasn’t willing to trade his friendships for anything else. Those ‘what if’s’ didn’t really matter when Winston reached over to slip their hand into Rio’s. It had quickly become one of Rio’s favorite things to do, hold Winston’s hand. Without thinking, Rio’s thumb began caressing the spot where it met their hand. Who knew something as simple as this could feel so intimate? “I really don’t think you could have picked a better spot, seriously. This place is really special to me. And so are you, so it just sort of… works. Y’know? And I really, really like that analogy.” Romance was for Rio? Yeah, he really liked the sound of that. The question that Winston was now waiting for had been weighing on Rio’s mind for a while. It seemed almost moot. Rio and Winston were already doing the work. But it felt like something Rio wanted to make official, “So you’ve been helping me a lot. With the Scribe records. I was thinking… What if we tried to make it official? Like… you and me. Scribes. Trying to use all that crap to help people.” Rio didn’t know what he was saying, mostly. He didn’t know how to try to send a professional or make it seem like it was a legitimate thing. Because honestly it wasn’t. “Not that I can offer you anything. Or like make it official, since the Scribes don’t technically exist. But if we can get the place up and functioning again… we may be able to help others.”
“Rio, at least you were hanging out at Overlook. I used to hang out at quarters alone and I have a few of the high scores but not enough to really cover the amount of time and money that I spent there alone, but my point is that you can do things on your own, even if its a little weird. As long as you enjoy it that is what matters.” Winston gave Rio a warm smile. Squeezing his hand gently as they used their free hand to fish out a handful of fries and stuff them into their mouth. Winston chewed on the warm fries (amazed they hadn’t cooled on the drive over) and swallowed a mouthful of warm potato in silence. Damn this shit was good. Al’s always had been. “Can … can you do that?” Winston asked slightly confused. They would love to do that. They would love to work with Rio and restart the scribes but they were not sure that the scribes could just be restarted but if Rio thought they could then Winston would definitely follow his lead. “Ultimately, if the scribes are … well they’re not around, then I guess we can do whatever we want.” Winston chewed their food for a second more before nodding. “I’d love, love, love to do that, really I would. We can actually help people and we can use all of this knowledge and research….” Winston paused for a second, “I have a few people who might be able to help us too and we could start to bring people back into the fold, we’ve done so much work on the Scribrary anyway that we might as well get other people in there too…” Winston smiled. “Yeah, I’d, really really like that. I’m in.” 
Could Orion do that? “Almost certainly not” He laughed, taking a big bite from his burger and waiting to finish chewing before talking again. “But nobody has come back there. Not a Scribe at least. That place is ours, as far as I’m concerned.” Rio had been dwelling on this for a while. He had always written off the idea. He couldn’t do something like that. Not alone. But now, maybe they actually had a chance. “I think so too. Once we get things functioning again… and once we figure out how to help we may need more help.” Rio had a couple of ideas himself on who could potentially be brought in. Maybe the two could actually help. And Rio wanted things to be different than how it used to be, back in the day. “Also, full disclosure? I hate computer science.” Rio giggled, so happy that Winston had come into his life. In all contexts. “The only reason I double majored in it was so I could learn how to digitize this place. And then you showed up that night and…” Rio trailed off, thinking about how much things in Rio’s life had changed since then. “That was probably one of the best nights of my life, y’know? And you changed everything for me. And I can’t thank you enough for helping with the scribe stuff and taking me in and being my friend and… well this” Rio raised their entangled hands to emphasize exactly what he was talking about. Rio knew it was romance night, but he had sunk himself into some super sappy territory. Was all that talk too serious for them? They were trying to take things slowly, after all. To force himself into shutting up, he inhaled a dozen fries. 
“Oh good, I’m glad that we’re sure about your authority on this,” Winston replied dryly before bursting out laughing, “sorry, this is just surreal. We’re sat in my car, on a date, discussing my potential acceptance into a secret order of academics that doesn’t exist but left behind a secret magic library that we’re digitising because they were boomers.” Winston grinned ruefully. “Damn, I’d have laughed too if you’d told me that this was how it was going to go a few months ago.” Winston smirked a little and nodded. “Sure, we can totally do that, I might not be able to put as much time in as before though, I never really announced it but I kind of got a new job at the station. I’m not actually an intern anymore, I’m officially a Cyber Forensics Technician for the WCPD. Well. THE Cyber Forensics Technician. There’s only me.” Winston shrugged and nodded as Rio spoke. “I’ll do the computer science part, now that I can sort of use magic on it I’m just getting faster then I was before, I actually managed to remotely access a computer with it the other day. If I can really work it out digitising the rest of the library shouldn’t take ten years. Maybe like eight, five if we’re really lucky.” Winston smiled contentedly at Rio’s raised hand and their own. “That night was … the luckiest of my life, you know the night before that I’d woken up in an abandoned mansion out in the middle of nowhere with someone who claimed to be an aura reader, turned out I’d sleep walked and stole a bunch of leprechaun gold too. That night was much less fun then waking up to you.” 
Orion attempted a stern look at Winston, but was still laughing “Ha ha. Very funny! I basically came into ownership of the place. Sorta. Kinda. Unofficially. But there’s no one to tell me I don’t have the authority either so…” Orion shrugged, letting the sentence finish itself. “Yeah it’s uh… pretty wild stuff, right? But you definitely found a way to make it sound even more insane so good job there.” Rio gave a small, celebratory clap for them as if actually congratulating them for something. “Oh no worries I don’t exp-” Rio paused, realizing what Winston had just said. A giant grin widened across Rio’s face and began bouncing up and down again. “Oh my god! You did? That’s so exciting! Holy crap!” Rio’s ribs really hate him right about now, but they could shove it. This was way more important than that. “That’s incredible. And sounds like a lot of work. And obviously I don’t expect you to devote all your time to it. I can’t pay you or anything so it’s more of a hobby than anything else.” Despite the new job and how busy Winston must have been, they were still planning on taking time to help Rio with this stupid passionate project. Could they get anymore incredible? Probably. “You- I’m sorry what?” Rio laughed again, processing all of Winston’s story about the sleep walking. “I can’t believe I’ve never heard that story before. An Aura Reader? Were they being legit? If so.. That’s super cool.” But it was so heartwarming to hear that Rio wasn’t the only one that found that night so special. Even if it was more or less a complete disaster. “I… was a complete wreck. That entire night. You were so cool when we met at Skylar’s… and without her as a buffer I barely knew how to even talk to you. And then building was still a pitch black nightmare too. It was… well I appreciate all you’ve done. For that place and me.”
“We spend so much time in that place and I always forget that you didn’t find it while sleep walking. It’s really amazing if you think about it, how many people are in the situation that we are and are able to find magic library that has the answers to most of our questions about the supernatural?” Winston smirked to themselves for a moment before grinning. “Yeah, I did, I didn’t really want to make a big deal about the new job with everything going on, it didn’t feel that important. But this has been, well this is the first step of really living out what my dream as a kid was and honestly now that I’ve started I’m not going to stop or anything, but I think I could probably do more good helping you as well, that way I can help normal people who don’t know about everything that is going on and I can help us with all of the bullshit that White Crest throws our way.” Winston frowned gently and shrugged. “I don’t know if they were bullshitting me or not, but they knew I was a spellcaster back when I barely knew what being one of those was and was incredibly far from competent at it, so I think there must at least be some truth there.” Raising an eyebrow, Winston laughed. “Honestly, don’t thank me too much, I didn’t enjoy reading all of those dusty books by torchlight.” Winston was obviously joking, but the way Rio put it made them sound like they had done it because they were a saint. It hadn’t been that. Rio had just made them want to help, they wouldn’t have had it any other way.
“Yeah, me too sometimes. But I know. It’s just luck that I know about it, honestly.” Honestly, Orion didn’t think about his uncle much anymore. Way less than he used to. He hadn’t seen the man in so long so that it was getting harder and harder to remember a lot of things about it. Rio wasn’t sure if he’d ever even see the man again, but he has the Scribe building at least. Those memories were safe. “It is absolutely important and a big deal! I’m so proud of you! That’s incredible.” Winston was getting everything they deserved. Rio squeezed Winston’s hand a bit tighter and finished off his shake.  Rio wished he had saved it for the movie, but he had always had a bad habit of eating and drinking way too quickly. “I’m going to continue shamelessly thanking you nonstop. You can’t stop me. Plus, I can’t believe you didn’t like that super dark mood lighting?” He broke the grasp for a minute to reach behind into the back and grab a soda from the cooler. Once he popped the top open and took a long drink, he reunited his hand with theirs. “I guarantee whatever movie plays is super old and bad, fair warning. But totally worth it.”
“Well, however we want to call it, luck, fate or even divine intervention, it doesn’t really matter because it got me to meet you and I wouldn’t have had it any otherway.” Winston flashed Rio a bright smile before shrugging. “I know, but when I brought someone back from the dead, stopped the world from ending because it was eaten by a giant squid and also have been working 24/7 since mid-march, well the promotion just didn’t really feel like a priority. I haven’t told many people but the new jobs really good. It’s finally something I can help with.” The movie was starting in the background and Winston wasn’t really sure what the protocol for watching a movie on a date actually were. Was there an expectation to kiss? Did they talk all the way through it? Winston didn’t recognise the romcom that was playing in the background but it didn’t really matter when they were here with Rio. They were holding hands and for now that was enough for Winston, adjusting their position so they were more comfortable, Winston did their best to slip closer to Rio. 
Orion didn’t believe in divine intervention, but he knew that Winston meant it as more of a joke anyways. The smile was proof enough, besides just being dreamy. Rio cursed himself for even thinking the word dreamy. “Okay well… you had a busy month. So that’s fair. But I want to be able to celebrate these little victories too. We spend so much time freaking out about the literal apocalypse I want to be able to enjoy the small things with people. Especially with you.” Rio couldn’t stop grinning. Everything Winston said just made him so happy, because he could tell how proud they were. Even if they were trying to remain casual about their accomplishments. “You deserved this and you’re going to do so much good now. On both sides.” Was Rio crazy, or had was Winston closer? The thought both excited and frightened him. But he wanted to be closer. Rio didn’t have any expectations for the night. For the first time, Rio was perfectly fine with not having everything planned ahead. He didn’t need to know what was going to happen. He just wanted to spend time with Winston. “I haven’t seen this one before,” Rio whispered. Overlook was known for playing the same movie multiple times, so it was a relief. Lots of first times tonight for Rio.
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Winston replied with a smile. Everything in that moment was special. The feel of Rio’s fingers in between their own, the way they almost seemed to fit together like they had been made for one another, it was like they were the perfect size. Perfectly interlinking. Locking together firmly. Rio’s hand was warm against Winston’s skin and as the movie began rolling Winston couldn’t help but float there. Not literally of course. But it might as well have been. “Me neither,” Winston whispered in reply, turning their head, they gazed at Rio for a moment taking a long breath before leaning forward and kissing him. Honestly. Was it the right moment? Winston wasn’t sure. But they couldn’t help themselves. Rio was…. Something else entirely.
Orion was surprised by the kiss. Not so much that Winston had done it, but more by how it had felt. The two had already kissed before, one that had been fueled by alcohol and the general mood surrounding the party they had attended. It had been passionate and fiery. But this one felt different… better. There was deliberate care, a spark that Rio thought only existed in media portrayals of what a first kiss should feel like. It had been a light kiss, but its impact was far greater than that. And Rio couldn’t help but feel like he was some high schooler in a coming of age drama, experiencing a once in a lifetime feeling. Up to this point, Rio and Winston had talked things out and held hands. This was incredible. When the two broke away from the kiss, Rio exhaled a deep breath, not realizing how long he had been holding it in the first place. He paused for a long time, before finally smiling and breathing out words. “Damn.” His breath caught mid laugh, cutting himself short. But as soon as he could breathe again, he leaned back in for more. 
This was really beyond Winston’s experience. Kissing people had always seemed like a bizarre fantasy that other people would probably achieve long before Winston would even get close to it. They weren’t a nun or anything but actually having success in a romantic context was somewhat beyond their comprehension. Swallowing, Winston kissed Rio again, and again. It set their stomach into a whirlwind of butterflies that spun up a cyclone in their stomach and yet Winston didn’t care. They forgot all about everything. About all the trouble that they’d been in and about all of the trouble they would probably find themselves in. For the first time in six months Winston was entirely occupied by one thing and one person and it was a luxury that they never considered they would experience again. “Damn.” They replied, when everything was over and they had pulled away from the kiss. 
Orion lost track of time. He didn’t care how much time had passed. For all he knew, the movie could have ended and the place was an empty lot by now. All he cared about was Winston right now. Kissing them until one of them had to break to breathe. Rio didn’t know if he was doing it right or wrong, but he knew that Winston was absolutely doing it right. Once it was all over, Rio sat back against the seat, left hand still entangled with Winston’s. “I can’t believe I just said damn” was all Rio could really think to mention. As if that had any pertinence to what had just happened. Everything else just seemed too surreal. He couldn’t find the words to say to capture how he felt about how he felt about them. “Turns out I think I really like this movie? Good memories.” He was still breathing heavily, but his face was flushed and a grin surrounded his face that Rio wasn’t sure would ever go away. “It’s hot in here. I’m gonna grab another drink. And snacks. You want anything?” Rio asked before letting go of Winston’s hand to crawl into the back and secure food for round 2. If there was a round 2 tonight. Rio was in no rush.
The rest of the evening was cute. Winston couldn’t help but remember it fondly from that point onwards. They held hands, kissed, hugged or was cuddled the more appropriate word? Either way. They ate snacks, they laughed, they watched a bad romantic comedy. It couldn’t have been more perfect if Winston had planned it that way and as they drove back, Winston was almost sorry that the night was over. Not that they had to leave Rio’s side, of course that was a nice added bonus. 
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My Secret Santa Fic!!!
Sorry, I couldn’t wait till Christmas!
@kaycha1989 I’m your Secret Santa!!!! Surprise!! <3
thank you to @doginshoe @bmarvels and @bladerivalen for reading this and telling me it’s good, and @petri808 for beta-ing for me!!
A @kuroshironekoserver event!
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“Aaand,” Erza grunted, her hands nearly slipping off of the trunk, “there!” she sighed, resting the giant tree down into a pot. Jellal panted as the weight off of his arms were released, taking a few steps back to marvel at the huge tree in front of him.
“It’s perfect!” Erza squealed, on her tippy toes out of excitement. Jellal chuckled and kissed her temple, a light blush spilling onto each of their faces. Erza smiled softly, but it quickly turned to excitement as she spun around and picked up a box of ornaments, handing them to Jellal.
“Let’s decorate!” she exclaimed, grabbing tinsel and walking around and around the tree, placing it carefully and evenly. Jellal smiled at the way her tongue stuck out of the side of her mouth as she strung the tinsel. He grabbed the second roll of the shiny rope, beginning to walk around carefully, making sure to keep up with Erza’s standards as he adjusted every few steps.
“Jellal, you need to keep the tinsel four centimetres apart, it has to be perfect!” Erza scolded, sighing as she went through Jellal’s work and fixing every minute detail. 
Jellal smiled inwardly and tried to suppress the rumble of laughter in his chest. Erza ignored the soft chuckles from him and continued her loop around the tree. 
“It doesn’t have to be perfect, Erza. Let’s just have fun,” he sighed, his lips unable to drop the smile that had been on his face for what felt like hours.
As Erza placed the last bit of tinsel on the tree, she groaned and rubbed the back of her neck, her eyebrows furrowed and her teeth chewing her rosy lips. “I know...I just...I like things to be their best, I guess I’m kinda a perfectionist,” she sighed, leaning against the wall. 
Jellal smirked, knowing how she was and decided to make things a bit lighter. He walked over to the stereo, turning it on and switching the channel to music, the slow beat charming and romantic. Erza smiled at him and walked over, wrapping her arms around his neck.
His arms made their way around her waist, as she laid her head against his chest. They began slowly swaying to the beat, smooth and slow movements as they began dancing.
“Where’d you learn how to dance?” Jellal chuckled, Erza smiled and giggled as he twirled her. Jellal’s eyes were so soft, she noticed, as she looked into them deeply.
“Oh you know, different jobs require different skills,” she said slyly, as she spun into his chest. Jellal sighed and wrapped his arms around her, not caring about the dancing anymore. Erza chuckled and leaned into him, his hot breath on her neck. It made her shiver, but the feeling was something she could never describe.
“We should really keep decorating the tree…” Erza mumbled, Jellal hummed into her shoulder but didn’t let go. Erza sighed as one of Jellal’s hands slithered down her waist.
“Bedroom,” she breathed as she pulled away, dragging Jellal by the neck of his sweater….
“Okay!” Erza yelled, slamming a bag onto the kitchen bench and pulling out various baking ingredients. Jellal chuckled nervously from his place over by the tree, placing the last bauble on the tree. It was perfect, everything shining brightly when he flicked the lights on. Erza looked on in delight as the tree lit up with golden lights, glimmering against the shiny tinsel and glittery baubles.
“What’s this for?” he questioned, pulling Erza from her gaze from the beautiful tree. She continued pulling things out of her shopping bag and smiled.
“We,” she began, pulling out the last item and handing it to Jellal, “are making cookies!” Jellal took the box and saw it was full of Christmas icing decorations. He looked up in confusion, as Erza grabbed the box out of his hands and put it aside.
“Cookies? Why?” he asked. Erza looked up to him with her smile dropped, Jellal felt his heart drop, he hated seeing her upset. “Not that I’m opposed!” he rushed out, happy as he saw Erza’s smile return as she held a piece of paper in front of herself. 
“Every Christmas, the guild shares responsibilities for the party. Usually, I coordinate, but Lucy insisted this year I spend more time with you instead since it’s our first Christmas together,” she explained, taking a breath. Jellal smiled softly and rounded the kitchen bench, standing next to her.
“And so, Lucy is taking care of coordinating. She told me this year, we’ll make the cookies, so that’s what we’re doing!” she exclaimed. Jellal nodded and looked at the paper in front of Erza.
“Two batches of chocolate chip, three batches of sugar cookies, and five batches of peanut butter?” he wondered out loud. Erza chuckled and took the piece of paper back.
“It’s a big guild, and we have a certain dragon slayer who can and will eat everything he finds,” she joked. Jellal laughed and began pulling out spoons and bowls to begin. Erza did the same, beginning to open the flour, milk and other things she was going to put in the cookies.  
It was going to be a long night.
“Ugh…” Jellal groaned as Erza pulled the last batch of cookies from the oven. 
She chuckled and put the cookies to cool on the bench, then walked over to Jellal, who was leaning against the fridge, his head slumped over and his arms limp. “What’s wrong, your arms hurt?” she giggled, taking off her oven mitts and stretching her arms above her head. 
Jellal groaned in response and sighed as Erza pulled him to the couch. They slumped together, in a cuddle and stayed like that until the timer went off, telling Erza the cookies had cooled and were ready to be decorated….
Jellal stirred out of his sleep when the sound of humming met his ears, not even realizing he’d fallen asleep. He sat up from the couch to see her, the only thing he ever truly wanted, right in front of him, sitting on the floor and surrounded by bags, sticky tape and wrapping paper. He grinned sleepily and continued watching her, so wrapped up in her task that she didn’t even realise he was awake. 
Erza pulled another piece of tape off of the roll and stuck two paper ends together, smiling to herself as the present was perfectly wrapped. She slid it over to a pile of presents that were wrapped and grabbed the next one.
Jellal suppressed a yawn as her humming became all he could focus on, and soon lulling him back to sleep.
“Jellal? You need to wake up,” her voice came, soft and calming as he woke up again. 
Jellal breathed deeply as he became aware of everything. Particularly the scarlet beauty in front of him. “What time is it?” He yawned, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. 
Erza sat next to him, chuckling at how adorable he was when he first woke up. “It’s about quarter to twelve, I thought you might want to wrap some of your presents now. It’s Christmas Eve after all,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck like a snake and kissing his cheek. 
Jellal smiled and leaned into her embrace. He sighed and nodded to himself. “Yeah, I should. I only have a few though,” he grunted as he pulled himself from the comfy couch. Erza stood up alongside him, and they sat down on the floor together, the small pile of presents in front of Jellal waiting to be wrapped up and ready to give to his friends. He eyed the small box on top, grinning to himself.
He hid it right in plain sight.
Their time passed leisurely, wrapping presents with each other. Erza helping Jellal every now and again until he got better at wrapping the presents nicely.
“Who’s this one for?” Erza questioned, holding up the last small box. 
Jellal smirked and sighed as he couldn’t hold in the surprise anymore. He looked at Erza with the most admirable smile and took her hand in his. “Open it. It’s yours.”  
Erza glared, as she lowered the box. “It’s not even Christmas yet!”  Jellal cocked an eyebrow at her and glanced at the clock. Midnight, it was officially Christmas Day. Erza looked over to the clock after a moment and sighed as she realised.
It was Christmas.
“Okay, fine,” she sighed, taking the box and opening it. She lifted the lid slowly, and she gasped as she saw what was inside. Jellal chuckled nervously as she took the glistening ring out of the box. She held it up to the light and it sparkled brightly.
“I know we’ve only been together for a little while, but...I really can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t think I could ever bear to lose you,” he began. Erza looked at him in absolute astonishment. She realised immediately what this was, and tears welled up in her eyes.
“Erza, I love you, and I want to ask you...Will you marry me?” He barely had time to get scared because he was pushed over by the force of Erza jumping on him. She peppered his face in kisses and hugged him tightly, never letting go of the ring.
“Yes! Yes, a million times yes!” she yelled. Jellal laughed and pulled her into a deep kiss. Erza’s smile never left her lips as they kissed, hugged and eventually calmed down. 
Later that night, they laid in bed together, close and snuggled up. Erza couldn’t keep her eyes off of the ring, and continuously told Jellal how much she loved it.
“You know...if you had told me when we were still locked in that tower that one day, I’d be an s-class mage with an amazing family and a soon to be husband, I never would have believed you…” she murmured, Jellal’s chest rumbled softly with chuckles.
“Yeah...I can’t believe we made it this far. I mean, we were taken from our homes, forced to work, I got possessed and did awful things. So much has happened and now...we’re here. Together,” he sighed, holding Erza tighter than he already was.
Erza snuggled into him, pulling the blanket higher up to shield them from the cold winter night. “I guess you really do have a fiancée now,” Erza giggled.
Jellal groaned and buried his face into the pillow. She was never letting him live that down!
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angelofthequeers · 4 years
Text
Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 16
Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.
Chapter 15 | Chapter 17 | AO3 link
After all the excitement at the photoshoot and then Chloé’s party, the next week and a half of school is thankfully quiet, with the most exciting thing being Chloé glowering at Marinette whenever Adrien’s not looking because he still won’t talk to her. Although to be fair, that gets old after a few days anyway.
It’s not until one Thursday afternoon that things with Chloé come to a head. Marinette’s just finished in the bathroom and is about to head to the cafeteria to meet up with Alya, Adrien, and Nino, when the bathroom door slams open. She jumps back, eyes darting to the stalls behind her as a quick exit with their windows if it’s an akuma coming into the bathroom right now.
“Dupain-Cheng.” Chloé advances on Marinette, backing her into the bathroom wall. It’s only now that she’s close to Chloé that Marinette can see just how…imperfect the blonde is. Chloé’s makeup and clothes and hair are still impeccable, but this close to her? The way her bottom lip quivers and her eyes are ever so slightly red are very apparent.
“What is it, Chloé?” Marinette sighs. “If you're going to tear into me, it’s gotten old –”
“Teach me how to be nice.”
Marinette blinks. For a moment, her mouth can’t find the appropriate words in her brain for this situation, and she wonders if she’s stuck in some dream. Her shock must be plastered clean across her face, because Chloé huffs and crosses her arms.
“Trust me, the last thing I want is to be asking you for help,” Chloé snaps. “But Adrien won’t even say one word to me anymore unless it’s asking if I’ve learned how to be nice. And since it’s your fault that I lost my best friend, you can help me get him back.”
“My fault?” Marinette says incredulously. “What did I do? You’re the one who’s been picking on me and everyone else for years! I didn’t make Adrien do that to you! And if you really want him to be your friend again, you need to stop blaming everyone else for your rotten attitude!”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” Chloé jabs a finger at Marinette. “You have this – this stupid moral compass where you know how to be good and nice and whatever!”
“Well, do you want to be nice for Adrien? Or for yourself?” Marinette says. “If you want to be nice just to get Adrien to be your friend again, you’re not going to stay nice. You’re not going to want to stay nice. And I’m not going to put the effort into helping you unless I know that you’ll be nice even after you get what you want. Not after you spent years bullying all of us, Chloé.”
“I never had a reason to be nice before,” Chloé says. “Being nice lets people walk all over you.”
“Nice doesn’t mean being a pushover,” Marinette counters. “You can be nice and still stand up for yourself. That’s something I’m learning.”
“Whatever. Look, are you going to help me or not? I want my best friend back.”
Marinette sighs. Is she really doing this? Yeah, she is. Doing this might help Chloé become a better person and stop bullying everyone.
“On one condition,” she says. “You actually try. I don’t want anything from you except a promise that you’re going to try and be a better person and not just pretend to be to get what you want. And I’m not going to hold your hand and tell you what to do every step of the way.”
“Yes, yes, whatever.” Chloé waves a hand. “You can come to the hotel after school and start teaching me. I’m not going to waste my precious lunch time.” She turns and struts out of the bathroom, leaving Marinette to try and process what had just happened and wonder if someone had tried to divide by zero and shattered the universe as they know it.
She debates all day about telling her friends about the confrontation in the bathroom, but eventually decides to stay quiet for now. Not only does she not want to give anyone false hope, but she also recognises that the trust Chloé has reluctantly shoved on her is tentative and breaking it could ruin what little chance there is of helping Chloé to be a better person.
When she gets to the hotel after school, she’s stopped by the same doorman as when she’d tried to get in during Prince Ali’s visit to rescue Tikki. He clearly remembers her from that time, if his unimpressed eyebrow-raise is any indication.
“I swear, I’m telling the truth,” Marinette insists. “Chloé’s expecting me.”
“Just as she was expecting her friend last time?” the doorman drawls. Marinette huffs.
“Just ask her!” she says. “You don’t even have to leave. Just get someone else to ask her and she’ll tell you.”
The doorman’s silent for a few moments, no doubt weighing up whether she’s bluffing or genuinely wants him to alert Chloé of her presence. His fear of upsetting Chloé seems to win out, as he reaches into his pocket to pull out a small phone. After a minute of Marinette fidgeting with her fingers and wondering if Chloé’s just playing a huge joke, because it would be like her, the doorman clears his throat and steps aside.
“Go right on up, Miss Dupain-Cheng, and don’t hesitate to ask for assistance if you need it,” he says in a far friendlier tone. Marinette just smiles and slips through the massive double doors behind him, then heads for the elevator and takes it to the top floor. Once she’s standing outside Chloé’s bedroom door, it takes a good minute of nibbling her lip and taking deep breaths to steel herself before she’s finally able to knock.
“Ugh, finally. I swear, it’s so hard to find competent staff these days,” Chloé scoffs when she opens the door. She stands aside to let Marinette in, and Marinette has to school her features into surprise and act like she hasn’t seen this room plenty of times as Ladybug. Or, to be more accurate, this massive entrance chamber of Chloé’s whole suite.
“It’s…big,” Marinette finally says.
“This? Big?” Chloé says. “Oh, right. I forgot that you’re just a baker’s daughter.”
“You know, I can just walk right back out if you’re not serious about learning to be nicer,” Marinette says. “And I can’t think of anyone else who’d agree to help you.”
“Right, like you’re not just doing this to suck up to Adrikins.”
“Funnily enough, some people do things because it feels good to be nice and helpful. And if you think the only thing I’m getting out of this is impressing Adrien, you’ve clearly forgotten the past few years before he even came along.” Marinette crosses her arms. “I’m actually being pretty selfish in doing this, you know. My life will be a whole lot better without you being mean all the time. And so will everyone else’s.”
“So, Dupain-Cheng’s got bite.” Chloé smirks and leads Marinette through the right door and into her sitting room, where a tray of snacks such as cut fruit and sushi rests on the glass table. Chloé settles herself on one of the chairs and waits until Marinette hesitantly sits down in an adjoining seat before speaking again. “Alright, chop, chop. How do I be nice?”
“First, you figure out why you want to be nice,” Marinette says. “Because if it’s just to make Adrien happy, I’m walking straight out of here. You have to have a reason for yourself or you’ll never stay nice.”
“Then why are you nice?”
“Because it makes me feel good. I like seeing people happy because of something nice that I’ve said or done.”
“Boring,” Chloé sings. Marinette resists the urge to roll her eyes.
“Well, if you’re nice then people will like you,” she says through gritted teeth, wondering why she even agreed to do this. “And if people like you then they’ll treat you better. Which means they’ll want to do more things for you.”
“Wait, so I can actually get something out of being nice?” Chloé says. Marinette considers rushing out to Chloé’s balcony and throwing herself over the railing.
“Not that you should want to be nice for selfish reasons, but yes,” she says. “And then once it becomes habit, you’ll find that you like being nice –”
“Don’t worry about that part,” Chloé says. “Let’s focus on the part where being nice gets me stuff.”
“It’s not as simple as saying a few nice things,” Marinette says. “You have to keep showing that you mean it, or people will see that you’re being fake. I suggest you start treating Sabrina nicer.”
“What do you mean? Sabrina loves me!”
“You treat her like a servant!” Marinette strongly considers throwing the piece of pineapple in her hand at Chloé – it’ll blend in nicely with the other girl’s hair and jacket – but she forces herself to not lose her cool. “You make her do your homework, steal for you, whatever else you say!”
“I give her gifts all the time! I gave her an old dress of mine just the other day!”
Breathe, Marinette. Breathe. Don’t beat up the annoying blonde. “Just because you give Sabrina your old things doesn’t mean that you’re being nice to her,” she says. “Try thanking her for doing your homework. Ask her opinion on things and don’t think that she agrees just because she rushes to back you up. Treat her like an actual person.”
“Okay, sure, whatever. Is that all I have to do? Sabrina’s coming over to do my homework for me right about now and I don’t want her seeing us associating like this.”
Marinette forces a smile and says, “Oh, there’s a lot more to being nice, Chloé. A lot more. But that’s for you to figure out, not for me to coddle you over. And I’ve got some homework for you to do without Sabrina’s help.”
“Wait, there’s homework?” Chloé whines. “I didn’t know you’d be making this like school!”
“Your homework is to think of a nice thing to say about every single person in our class.” Marinette ignores Chloé’s complaining, for her own sanity. “Then you’re going to go up to each person and say it tomorrow. I really don’t care if you can’t bring yourself to do it for me, but I want you to do it for everyone else. And no, it can’t be a backhanded compliment,” she says before Chloé can even open her mouth. “It has to be something genuinely nice.”
“But what if there’s nothing nice to say?” Chloé says. “What if their outfit and their hair and everything is ugly?”
“Think of something!” Marinette throws her hands up. “Offer them advice if you absolutely have to, just in a helpful way! If you want to be nice then you need to practice, and you need to make others believe that you’re trying.”
“This is all such hard work,” Chloé sighs, sprawling dramatically in her chair.
“Which is something you need a lot of practice at,” Marinette deadpans.
“Oh, whatever. Get out of here, Dupain-Cheng. And you’re not to come back unless I ask you to.”
“Believe me, it’s not like I’d want to come unless I had to.”
There’s a twisted sense of curiosity about Marinette when she races to school the next day as to what exactly Chloé’s going to say, or if she’s even done the homework in the first place. Everyone else is already in the classroom by the time a breathless Marinette tumbles through the door, although no one spares her a second glance, no doubt used to her being late all the time by now.
“Girl, I think there’s an akuma or something,” Alya comments when Marinette sits down.
“Akuma? Where?” Marinette bolts upright, ready to make her excuses and rush off to transform. In front of her, she notices that Adrien’s back is stiff as a rod, although she doesn’t pay it much mind when she’s already scanning for the threat.
“Chloé.” Alya points at Chloé, who’s sitting in her usual seat with crossed arms and a scowl. “She said that she thought Rose’s dress was sickeningly cute in a princess-y kind of way. Then she said that Nathaniel could at least draw more than basic shapes. She’s being…kind of nice again.”
Marinette fights to keep the smile off her face. Maybe Chloé really was genuine about wanting to change and be nice. As if reading her mind, Chloé looks over her shoulder at Marinette and curls her lip, although there’s nowhere near the usual amount of malice present in her sneer. When Marinette smiles at her, she sniffs and looks back at the front, ponytail whipping around.
“Thank…you…for doing my homework, Sabrina,” Chloé says loudly. Her voice carries across the classroom, although this is probably just because everyone’s gone dead silent to stare at her. Sabrina looks like she’s questioning reality.
“Um…it’s no problem, Chloé?” the redhead says slowly. “You know you don’t have to thank me for it.”
“Well, I thought it would be…nice. To show that I…appreciate you. You’re…a good friend.”
“What the heck is going on?” Marinette hears Alix mutter from the other side of the classroom. “Did an akuma zap her or something?”
“Oh, thank you, Chloé!” Sabrina throws her arms around Chloé, who stiffens and puts on a pained smile.
“You’re wrinkling my jacket!” the blonde says. Sabrina immediately lets go.
“Sorry!”
“It looks like Chloé can be nice if she wants,” Marinette says loudly. Chloé turns to shoot her a death glare but when Marinette just nods down at Adrien, Chloé’s glare immediately morphs into a big smile.
“Of course I can, Dupain-Cheng!” Chloé says. “You see, Adrikins?”
“I’m proud of you, Chloé,” Adrien says, leaning forward to rest his weight on his forearms. “I hope you keep it up so that we can be friends again.”
Chloé’s smile turns rather forced. “…Sure, Adrikins. Of course.”
Marinette just sits back in her seat to survey her handiwork rather smugly. If she was a meaner person then she’d probably take a lot more joy in the power she has over Chloé…but she’s not like Chloé, so she just keeps her less than savoury thoughts to herself and waits for Ms Bustier to arrive and start the lesson.
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hecallsmehischild · 5 years
Text
Grieving the Good
Beyond Boundaries by Dr. John Townsend claims there are six components for grieving a lost relationship. Most of the steps are already inherent to how I deal with pain, and I recognized each as I went through them. One, however, took me off guard. It makes sense, but it hadn’t been said to me before.
3. Name what you valued.
When you value someone, you affirm that he or she is important to you. When the connection is over, there are certain aspects of the person and the relationship that you miss the most. There are the values you have to grieve. {List of examples follows}
Sometimes, the value you need to grieve is connected to specific memories as well. It could be a trip you took or a private joke you shared. It might be a time of deep intimacy in which you were very close. Perhaps it was good times with the family.
Why is it important to name the specific things you valued? Because you must say good-bye to the entire person, not simply the negative parts of the person. You cannot walk away from the things you disliked, which may be the things that ended the relationship, without also saying goodbye to the things you loved as well. A half grief is never a healing grief.
It has been seven months since I ended a ten year friendship. Things have been better. I feel more healing every week that goes by. However, I am still stuck some days. I still cycle fruitlessly through each thing that hurt me. In my head, I argue and shout and scream until I’m acknowledged. I deliver biting, sarcastic lines designed to cut. I make it so that this time, I’m not the one in a thousand pieces on the floor.
I can’t seem to move on from this simmering anger on the back burner. I want it to protect me, but I know that’s not what it will do. It will turn into bitterness and a permanent wall that will hinder me from connecting to new people in my life. I also know, though, that if I try to suppress or ignore it, it will come back to bite me in other nasty ways down the line. So I continue to try and find ways of legitimately dealing with it, torn between letting it run its course and trying to find ways to let go.
I have grieved the negative parts and events for months, now, though I have not publicly disclosed all the specific events that led to this dissolution. It is time to grieve the good. I will grieve the good without asking which parts were lies and which were truths, because I’ve already asked myself that untold times and there is no answer to be had. At the time, it was all true, and I will grieve that.
My friend,
You are one of the two people that I know who writes at what I call a college-Lit-class-level. It’s a very specific compliment that carries a great deal of my awe. I know many truly wonderful writers who floor me every time I read their work. But I do believe your work, if published, could be taught in college classes. Not everyone would get it. You probably will not have a broad readership. It took me years of reading your writing to start to understand what you were getting at. It’s a small niche, but people who understand what you’re saying, well. Their conscience will be smitten. Your wordplay and sensory overload descriptions are brilliant. I will miss getting to read your work in advance and offering what I could to the editing process. I will miss cheering every time you got accepted for publication. I will miss collecting any printed piece you got published and begging for your autograph. I grieve that I will never hold your published novel and say, “See? I knew you could do it.” I still know you can.
We made two books together. Did you know how fun that was? Yes, there was some pain in the process, but we made two children’s books. You crafted two lovely stories. You weighed in on design ideas and I illustrated them. I am much more comfortable with my tablet and Art Rage after 9 and 6 months spent on the respective books. I have some concept of character design, simply by doing it over and over. This isn’t something I ever sought to pursue myself, but I learned a little of it through trial and error and repetition. Perhaps you will take the stories and have someone else illustrate them for publication. That is okay. I have my copies. They are the only two I can’t part with, even now. I will miss creating children’s books with you, friend. I grieve the ones we will never make. I grieve these ones will never be seen, but for the few copies that exist among friends and ourselves.
I miss sharing music with you, trying to find songs you would enjoy and occasionally finding for you one you’d searched for without success. I will never hear many of the songs you would have sent me, a lifetime of accumulated musical taste we could have traded.
I miss your passionate conversation about topics that interested you. You were never annoying, in spite of your concerns about being so. I could have listened to talk about your passions for hours. I miss how, when we got together, we could (and did) literally talk for hours, as if jamming together all the time we hadn’t spent together. I miss our long-distance communication. The wall-o-text emails. The few months we did Marco Polo, when we thought it would revolutionize our communication to be able to pick up on tone and facial expression. I miss getting to show you the cool little mundane things about my day. I grieve the loss of our communication.
You and I shared our deep sorrows and victories. We shared vulnerability and acceptance. We both mourned friendships that didn’t last or people who used us and wondered why people were so quick to cast loyal friends aside. I thought I could talk to you about anything and everything that hurt. I kept that belief very shielded from the things I knew I absolutely could not bring to you. Fortified heavily with denial was the belief that you were a safe person, and during the time I believed it, it was a good thing for me. I grieve the loss of that. I grieve the loss of trusting that you were really going to tell me the truth once you confessed to your lies, and that there were and would be no more lies between us.
I saw a great beauty in you, and I wanted so desperately to see that beauty bloom and grow, and to have been a small part of that because I felt you were so much wiser, smarter, more talented than me. I grieve that I will never see what becomes of you in this life up close. I hope, desperately, that you do heal and grow.
Once, when I really needed it, you stood up for me. Though details have come into question, now, in that moment I fully believed I needed it, and you were there for me. In the very early years of our friendship, you provided a friendly and safe-feeling place to talk with you. We talked about anything and everything. I grieve that.
I grieve the gifts I could not keep, chosen with care for every birthday and every Christmas. I grieve the joy I took in picking out gifts for you as well.
You loaned me your knowledge. Knowledge about health and food, theology and psychology. Book recommendations that were dead on what I needed to know and what my brain was able to process correctly. Articles you sent that made you think of me. You have had your head more in the real world than I ever cared to, and when I was stymied about how to even research, you shared your store of collected knowledge with me.
You had such insight. I felt that you “saw” me, and you phrased what you saw in me all so beautifully. I thought I was so fortunate to be friends with someone like you, who would point out my strengths in such a healing way. Do you even comprehend what a balm your words can be, when you want?
I remember playing the What-Does-M-See game. Because you said you could see the spiritual realm. Now I don’t know what to believe, but at the time, I was always in awe when you saw or described something. Especially if it was about me, and especially if it was accurate to something in my life.
I miss praying with you in the early days, when we first got to be prayer partners in the huge house.
I’d never had a delicious vegan meal before. You astounded me by cooking incredible savory 100% vegan dishes. And I got to cook one dish for you that you fell in love with. And even when we lived apart, it was fun to cook with you over Skype, creating the same dish across several states’ distance.
I’d only recently begun reading aloud books for you. Books I thought spoke to your situation, or books that I hoped held some answers for you. I grieve that I will not be able to share with you like you shared with me.
Slumbertale was a short story born out of our friendship. I wanted to sustain you from week to week. Give you something to look forward to. I miss coming up with a new few paragraphs of the story each week and waiting for your reaction to the next twist in the tale. I miss picking out a weekly treat to mail you. I miss making gestures of Philia (deep friendship)--nearly Storge (familial)--love and having them received. I grieve the loss of the times I was able to shine a little light into the darkness for you.
You actually got me to like parenthesis. With a super creative poem. How even? I was so anti-parenthesis in fiction and storytelling, but you did the thing. I liked it so much I had to literally paint the poem.
Some of my most beautiful artwork and poetry were inspired by something you said or wrote, or a part of who you were. You influenced my poetry style. You twined into my craft sphere. We even started a mini-partnership about my trees, remember? I wanted to start writing micro-fiction, but was having a hard time titling the trees. Your titles were spot on and creative and always inspired a fabulous story. I offered $2 per title if the tree sold because I wanted to. Now I title them myself, and have only just returned to the micro-fiction, because the grief was so sharp.
I believed you were someone worth flying out for on as short notice as I could afford during the absolute worst times. I did this three times. I grieve being able to hold the belief that you deserved this, and much more, from me. I grieve the image of you that I had and refused to release for so long.
I grieve good times in Seattle, the city I never want to visit again because the painful associations now outweigh the good associations. You were the last remaining reason I ever wanted to return there.
I remember one time, during a visit to you, I spiked myself into a panic attack. I had ordered a mocha from one of Seattle’s hipster one-off coffee shops. I could tell from the first sip that the balance skewed way more toward coffee than chocolate, and that it might be too strong for me, but I drank it anyway. And shortly after, my heart was hammering and my breathing was shallow and every dread in my heart came screaming up to the surface of my skin. And I asked you for a hug, and in the middle of the coffee shop, with no embarrassment, you held me. Spoke gently into my ear. Helped me regulate my breathing. Helped me back down to a tolerable level of anxiety (it would be a few hours before the caffeine totally left my system).
You wrote me a journal in response to the one I wrote to you. Then you spent months helping me decode your handwriting so I understood all of what you had to say.
You wrote the single piece of derivative fiction (or fan fiction) that exists for my still unfinished novel. You accompanied it with components of a visual piece of art for me to assemble, one that directly related to the story you’d written, in spite of you “not being a visual person.” It had so much meaning to me.
You gave me a deeply meaningful nickname, and called me that almost to the exclusion of my name.
I miss your laughter. I miss your sense of humor. I miss your warmth.
I grieve the good in you, and I grieve the good I received from you. I grieve the good we made together, and the good we shared with each other. As hurt and furious as I am, I still miss you. But I will not return this time. I cannot express to you how much I hope you heal, truly heal, and learn to relate to people. I wish you well. I wish you healing. I wish you true joy. I wish you a life where you do not have to leave claw-marks behind.
Goodbye.
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tinderthecity · 5 years
Text
The Mountaineer
I’m not sure if this blog is a catalog of my dating escapades over the years or a catalog of the most influential dating apps as time goes by, but I guess one thing stays the same, dating apps and I are perpetually on this journey together! (slow clap).
This time, Hinge is the app of choice. A little background information on Hinge, for those of your lucky enough to be unfamiliar with dating app particulars, this one has you provide six pictures as well as the answers to three questions of your choosing from a pool of questions the app provides. You are then asked your age, height, area you live in, and you can also provide some more particulars like school, religious affiliation, if you drink, smoke cigs or pot, do drugs, have children, want children, etc.
Relevant side note: Recently a coworker of mine sent me a link to an article with her subtitle “your kinda guy.” The article was titled “I am a Pacific Northwest Man on Tinder and I will Die if I Go Indoors.” It’s hysterical and exposing the great outdoorsman facade that can become all too trendy on dating apps.
From the article:
“‘Being inside’ is for the weak, the tired, the cold, the hungry, the ‘people with homes,’ the ‘quaints.’ I’m not interested in those who cozy up with Netflix or enjoy going to restaurants or movies. Everything you could possibly need to survive, thrive, and entertain yourself exists in The Great Outdoors. You like sitting down on a comfortable couch? Gross. You like buying groceries in a store? Disgusting. If I am not constantly in some situation under the sun where my life is potentially in danger, I’m not about it. I get off on adrenaline. And nature.”
“My first three profile pics are from epic outdoor activities which showcase a level of fitness you couldn’t even begin to rival. The next three pics are of the exact same thing. The next one is a total thirst trap, which means something different when you’re just dehydrated all the time. The last photo is of a mountain that really gets me fired the fuck up. My face is blurry in each shot because I am Always. In. Motion.”
Lol you get the point (check out the full article for more linked at the bottom, it’s worth it). I died of laughter while also feeling entirely seen. I’m not a dating app girl who falls for the models or the guys on yachts who dress like fancy businessmen or have tons of photos at rooftop bars or are listed as working high-profile jobs. Ask any of my close friends and they’ll tell you that my thirst traps are the guys who seem down to earth (literally) and like to spend time outside, traveling, hiking, etc. 
It was after reading this article that I was able to put my last date into context as to why I was so excited and why it was so terribly bad. 
The Mountaineer liked me on Hinge and I immediately thought he was pretty cute, loved his answer to the question “I’m looking for....” “Someone who is upfront and honest about what they are thinking and feeling,” (swoon) and his pictures, which, you guessed it.. were all outdoors.   
Unfortunately, he lived in Long Island and liked me about a week before Christmas, when I would be going home for about a 10 day span, and afterward he would be gone for a long weekend. We decided we would just chat in the meantime, so we did, everyday. We talked about all sorts of things, but tbh he did talk/ask a lot about hiking haha.
When we could finally meet up after almost three weeks of talking, we decided he would come into the city on a Saturday and we could hit a museum and grab dinner. I chose the Natural History Museum for us to check out because he hadn’t been yet and I know it never disappoints.
The day before our date, the Mountaineer asked me if I’ll be meeting him at his train station. I live in the 150s, the museum is on 79th and his train would be pulling him into 34th. I told him we could meet at the museum since it’s in the middle. He said he didn’t like taking subways alone (interesting, Mr. Adventure) so he would walk from 34th to 79th (about a 45 min walk). Then he realized it was going to rain on Saturday and said he would walk in the rain, to which I told him (trying to be an accommodating Manhattanite) I could just meet him at 34th and take the train with him up to the museum if that’s the case.
The day of comes, it’s a bit rainy outside, as expected, and I get a text from the Mountaineer asking if we should move our date because of the rain (..really?). I basically said no but it’s up to you.
We decide to meet, I go down to 34th street to meet him. I’m running a few minutes late and of course those are the days when train delays hit.
Me: hey I’m on the express but I’m hitting some delays, 😑I’m going to be a little late, sorryyyy
Him: tsk tsk I’m quite disappointed already 😔
Me: 🙃🙃🙃
Him: Oh that’s cute, you think I’m joking
*wow, bold double dig move for not having met yet*
Me: I can just switch to the uptown train at the next stop if you’d rather
Him: haha I’m just messing with you. Would you really?
😇
We meet, he’s def not exactly what I pictured, maybe the 3 inch height difference than he listed had something to do about it or maybe it’s the ten minute first impression of salty remarks that he lead with... He refuses to take the train and has us walk 40 blocks up to the museum in the rain. I quickly realize that the museum and dinner plans we have might be a big mistake.
Once his saltiness simmers down our conversation gets better, and I thought maybe this will actually be a good time.
We get to the museum, and the lines are INSANE, so we decide we’ll go to another one. I give two options that are close by and ask which he’d prefer. I told him I’ve been to both and don’t have a preference to which he says “typical girl not wanting to make a choice” (wow, okay ew) to which I say “that’s actually not true, I chose the first museum..”
He decides on one across the park meaning another 20+ minute walk in the rain. He hops over a half wall into the park and I (not being in the parkour mood) decide I will walk to the entrance pathway about 100 feet away. He pokes fun at me and tells me to have a sense of adventure. I point out that he is wearing outdoor gear head to foot (yes, that is what he wore) and I’m wearing normal not weather proof clothing, not ideal to be jumping into mud. 
As we walk across the park he tells me a bit about himself. like how he doesn’t actually own any casual clothing aside from outdoor gear (okay..), he didn’t vote in the presidential election (a little red flag starts waving in the back of my mind), and he has kept eluding to trust issues of some sort by questioning my own honesty (red flag starts flapping harder).
He asks me a little about myself, and somehow we get on the topic of horrible dates we’ve been on. He doesn’t have much to say, but as this blog will tell you, I could go on for hours. I chose to share what I consider to still be my worst date to this day, last years Valentine’s Day post, Mr. Mindful (or as others know him, Touch-barrier). My biggest red flag of all was telling Mountaineer that story and having him respond with “Oh that’s it?” THAT’S IT!? The guy had a gender stereotype conspiracy theory complex, swore at me via text for turning him down, divulged his dating coaches advice and said he should have broken the touch barrier sooner with me, information I learned all within a 24 hour time span. And yet the Mountaineer was more stuck on my reluctance to say - no I never want to see you again - to that guy face to face on our date, because apparently that was Mountaineer’s touch point for accusing me of dishonesty.
We get to the museum (I know... we haven’t even started the actual date yet). Once inside walking around and looking at art, conversation starts to get normal again (aside from him saying that he likes contemporary art but this wasn’t quite what he meant). By the end of the museum I was like okay, I don’t hate this.
Then comes dinner. 
We choose a Thai restaurant, again on the opposite side of the park. Yelp gives the location 4.5 stars but when we walk up to the door the grade sign says “grade pending” (not uncommon) and he immediately looks for another place to go because I guess that’s unacceptable. After a few minutes of standing in the cold and probably noticing my poorly disguised apathy for this problem he decides we can go there because, like I said, it’s rated well.
The hostess seats us immediately but we’re close to the door and the Mountaineer doesn’t like that so he asks for us to be moved away from the door. We are then seated right behind the hostess stand and as we sit he goes “wow really?” and proceeds to be visibly and audibly upset about it for at least 10 minutes. He rants to me about how going to a restaurant isn’t just about the food but about the experience and how this experience is bs. (Yes, this two dollar sign Thai restaurant we’re going to because we want a quick meal really isn’t hitting my high class needs). I tell him we could take ownership and ask to move but he says no and continues to pout. As we look at the menu I notice the Mountaineer, as a non vegetarian, keeps mentioning tofu dishes and I ask why. He then bestows all of his restaurant wisdom upon me and explains how he rarely eats meat, or even seafood, at restaurants because he doesn’t trust them (here we go with the trust again), and especially not Asian restaurants. He also let me know that if he ever does order a steak, he likes his steak well-done but he orders it medium-rare and has them send it back to the kitchen when it comes out to cook it longer, because if he asks for it well-done he’s certain they’ll give him a crappy piece of meat.
At this point I am on the verge of stabbing myself with the utensils in front of me but instead I order shrimp pad thai to spite him. He doesn’t ask me a single question at dinner and is less than kind to the serving staff (the reddest flag of the red flags), I ask questions to fill the painful void for myself and when he asks if I want to go to Patagonia with him to look at some more outdoor gear he wants for himself I tell him I need to head home to my pup. 
I hugged him, I left, I haven’t spoken to him since and I couldn't be more grateful.
I will admit, I was a little upset when I left, partially because I had been excited about the Mountaineer for two weeks and felt bummed by my off point expectations, but even more so I was upset because I wasted almost an entire Saturday walking in the rain and listening to restaurant conspiracy theories when I could have been at home with my pup.
This date taught me (and hopefully you) two things:  1) You can be into Mountains without being be down to Earth 2) Never plan a multi-layered first date
Happy Love Day Everyone
<3
(For a nice complimentary laugh, here’s the link to that brief article I mentioned earlier that was obviously written about Mountaineer and his brethren.)
https://www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/i-am-a-pacific-northwest-man-on-tinder-and-i-will-die-if-i-go-indoors
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tuwam · 5 years
Text
comfort.
‘are you okay hanna?’ jamie asks, with snickers that she can’t keep in from across the table. “no.” and as she says it, hanna’s feels another itch at her skin, causing her head to fall promptly back on the desk.
[ the soulmate au where once you meet your soulmate, it’s physically uncomfortable to be apart from them for too long. ft. minna @rosaeau​ ]
rewind to a few months ago.
hanna didn’t need a damn tutor. she was a good student, no matter what her english professor said. she mentions that she has dreams of entering the new york fashion scene and her father jumps at the chance to flaunt his money.
“it’s a bad idea pop.” they’re at the kitchen table when he suggests the idea, his ridiculous money themed apron on while his mother makes sure he doesn’t burn another pancake that he tries to flip. hanna’s father is - a joke. to her and her mother. a joke that her mother can’t seem to get enough of and while he almost lands the pancake on her face both of them are laughing. hanna for a few seconds before she returns to her previous statement. “i don’t need a tutor.”
while he looks like he might cave, her mother is the one to grab the skillet handle and fix hanna with a look. her dad’s easy to persuade, her mother, not so much. for the life of her, hanna sits there and tries to figure out how the two of them can possibly match. her father, gambling addict, tycoon owner whose about as silly as they come when he steps out of his world with flashing lights. her mother, stubborn, hard-working and caring less about money unless it’s to keep her going, keep her free. her mother’s stubborn but her father’s persistent. 
she watches them wrestle for the skillet before her mother’s expertly flipping one. naturally, it’s the one thing she doesn’t get about soulmates. she’s heard so much about it, and is told she’s lucky to be able to see it up close. it’s unpredictable and apparently the talk of the world.
soulmates. not in the way people write them in stories, dreams them up when they talk about how they wish romance to be. actual soulmates, destined to be by something that humans can’t quite comprehend. because each story is different, all everyone knows is once you know you know. by something less cheesy than a spark in a kiss or a tug on the heart. something physical, almost biological.
hanna doesn’t know the details, she just knows her parents had that experience and now they’re never apart. it’s cute, but she’s trying to win a case here, so she’s boring holes into her father’s resolve.
‘you’re not paying attention in classes hanna.’ “noted. still don’t need a tutor.” ‘you don’t care about anything that’s not fashion hanna.’ “noted. but i don’t need a tutor.”
‘at least try it out seol.’ a tough blow. a low blow. hanna regards her father with a glare before she’s grabbing her things to head to her first class. 
hurray for econ.
‘he used your name?’ hanna’s only solace from these troubles are jamie. jamie who is greeting her outside of class with a chocolate mocha and hanna could kiss her. could, but she’s too busy sipping at the drink and relishing it all. the joy and wonders of a mocha on a hot day.  “he knows I won’t say no.” the decision to go by hanna came from the time spent with her mother, just a little joke about the flowers she’d put on her designs when she was younger. she’s far past the flower-dazzle stage but the name stuck.  ‘okay but, you don’t study for english, they’re not wrong.’ “whose side are you even on these days, the disrespect.” ‘just try it out, it might be good? if not i’ll learn it just to tutor you.’ “your lover boy might be mad but just to humor myself, i will.”
jamie makes a motion, maybe to fight the lover boy comment but hanna is too busy dashing up the library stairs.
the thing is, she knows she’s not paying enough attention to her english class. simply because when she’d expressed her interest in the new york market, she meant learning a bit for her visit there. learning the essentials and not the fundamentals of the language. of course her father is who he is, a renown businessman and if there was one thing he drove home it was that she should never half-ass anything. family drawings in elementary school - have hers at the top. golf carts races with her family - first place. if she wanted to be in fashion, she had to conquer. she had to explain to him why couture houses just - wasn’t a possibility in this day and age.
the rest was very much doable. her competitive streak comes from him no doubt. but, she wasn’t to blame if she just wasn’t that into her english class as she was her other classes. the business classes were a necessity and well the fashion classes were just that. long before she realized she was failing even vocabulary quizzes because of lack of studying, and they were so far into the grammar components she couldn’t catch up.
it was frustrating but she’d be damned if she let anyone else know that.
aside from jamie hanna had accumulated something of a reputation on their campus. other than the reputation that came with her father’s empire, she was simply known for being a socialite. being at parties but never interacting with people, just shining in diamonds she just had to bat her lashes to get. for that, hanna just liked to try new designs around the masses, she didn’t even enjoy the parties, but the image must be maintained for the goal ahead. really, most of her time is spent with jamie. when people sit and gossip to one another, whether about her or the newest soulmate phenomenon, she’s never a part of it.
only now she hears the giggling behind her when jamie finds a spot for them to set up shop. hanna’s econ books thrown around while jamie tosses her english book atop them all.
'apparently, sam’s friends. joon and ahyeon?’ hanna makes a hum that she’s listening, though her eyes show she’s contemplating opening this damned book. ‘they’re soulmates and he’s having a hard time stopping them from killing each other.’ “huh?” when she does look up jamie is engrossed in her phone, as usual, and hanna gets revenge by dropping her huge ethics book on top of her pile. jamie’s jump in her seat and scandalized look is just the reaction she’d expected. ‘he won’t say rather- he says he doesn’t know why. they’re antsier than usual.’ “makes you wonder if it’s all really a good thing? or if the match up is legit.”
‘well, it worked for your parents.’ 
another hum.
“i suppose.”
hanna just doesn’t enjoy the thought of having no control, can’t really fathom how her mother handled it. but it’s not something she needs to think about - and it’s joon and ahyeon’s problem not her own. she has english to pretend to study so that jamie will give her sketchbook back.
if there’s one thing hanna loves more than anything (and jamie) it’s being right.
‘it could’ve have been all bad.’ see it’s been a week and some days since her father committed to getting her tutors. she’s had to try a tutor each day and hanna’s damn near ready to rip her hair out.
it’s been, a wild few days. and jamie’s expression shows she’s enjoying the insufferable stories more than she should. if it weren’t for the vanilla bean that’s before her, hanna might actually forego the entire story. but she’d been right, this was a bad idea.
day one.
hanna’s on-time. tired from studying all night for her art history class, fingers patched from an accident with her sewing machine. granted, she wasn’t in the best mood from the beginning. she’s on-time though, her books and pencil case laid out neatly on the cafe table. a cafe table of all places.
he comes, and it’s a guy because he’s announcing his presence before he even sits down. there’s nothing really wrong with him, he’s a little loud, a few minutes late but hanna’s always a little too punctual so it’s understandable. what she remembers is that he dressed nice and she’s sure she has a business class with him.
'okay let’s get right to it shall we?’ he’s the asshat who talks too much because he wants everyone to know that he knows too much and wants too much. in short, greedy. ‘let’s test your knowledge of english first alright?’ his name is minhyun and hanna had never wanted a death note faster in her twenty two years of living.
because the test was the problem. not his perfectly combed up hair, or his perfect teeth, or the tailored suit he always fucking wears to class because he has to be that business major. hell his accent wasn’t even the problem. it was the test - with questions specifically tailored to her understanding of business and her father. as well as a reading comprehension that was simply a list of his achievements. the nerve.
“do you just want to cut a deal with my dad?” ‘what? no - what?’ his english was surprisingly good here. ‘however, if it were possible, could you slide him the resume?’ when her coffee arrived she was sure to pour it all over that damned exam and leave.
( jamie promptly laughed at this one because ‘hanna you didn’t’ and hanna took one more sip before saying ‘yes i did’. )
day two.
they meet in the student courtyard, hanna taking the time to attempt to sunbathe and lower her blood pressure. it as a nice day which meant crop tops and athletic leggings, seeing as she’d just come from a run. something to clear her mind before this english tutoring completely consumed her. hopefully the heat would do it first.
here’s the thing. hanna works out, has to work out if maybe one day she has to model her pieces for someone. technically she’s always modeling her pieces, plus her mother is a workout buff so she’s always at the gym. her figure is exceptional though it’s hidden behind her fashion.
so, she’s not confused when she feels eyes on her. they’re college students but apparently some of the male students are as shameless as ever. no one could be as shameless as minhyun so she’s ready to give a proper scolding, when she recognizes the face.
well not at first. but she should’ve.
“unless you plan on never having kids, i’d look away.” a cough and the male standing above her is tumbling apologies. ‘i’m your tutor, seolhyun-ssi.’ which is weird because few people call her by her full name. hanna is curling her legs under her before gesturing out for him because what. the. fuck?
the test was fine. the test was actually alright, aside from the outdated questions that she’s sure she’s seen somewhere before. no the test wasn’t the problem, the fact that they were outdoors wasn’t, and certainly not that he called her by her name. the problem was that he couldn’t keep his eyes off her while she took the test, or while she spoke. it’s one look, one particular look before hanna remembers.
“don’t you work for my father?” ( it’s at this point in the story that jamie yells out a ‘nooooo’ ) ‘ah, so you remember me?’ she remembers him, remembers his long-standing crush on her and him bothering her each time she went to visit one of the hotels. it was creepy. this was creepier. “uh-huh. two minutes before I call my father’s guards.” he was off like a light.
hanna was exasperated.
the next one, a girl her age who apparently was korean-american. a girl who spent half the time just swapping instagram feeds and asking for pictures and tours of hanna’s closet. it hit a limit when hanna caught her taking pictures of her designs. she’d almost broken her phone - instead she factory reset it. she’d accepted the praise her mother had given her and the high five jamie had given her when she heard.
the one after that - an older woman because yes that was the problem age. an older woman who aside from being entirely too punctual was going on and on about the history of english and it’s arrival into korea. then she proceeded to discuss why english was important and should be studied before she addressed that hanna was not studying english and was studying fashion and why that was bad. yeah, when that tirade started, hanna just up and left.
It doesn’t help that the one for the next day had ended up rescheduling and hanna – didn’t have it in her to accept nor decline, she just didn’t have the energy to deal with another joke.
she was tired of playing tutor roulette.
‘just drop english.’ Is jamie’s final answer after hanna’s given her the full rundown of her week, head lowered until her forehead’s almost touching the top of her drink. “my father wouldn’t let me dare.” It’s her ego too, her ego that won’t let her just give up on it and while Jamie knows, she’d rather hanna sit in her own stubbornness than tell her about it. she does however, offer a comforting hand to ruffle hanna’s hair like she always does giving hanna time to jolt up from her miserable position and fix her hair with a pout.
‘try this last one out, if they’re that bad than I promise I’ll save you from your misery and tutor you myself.’ “deal.”
they meet in the library. jamie’s been a dear and promised hanna another refill of the vanilla bean she’d gratefully placed on the table, as long as she clears this session. clear meaning she doesn’t leave early though hanna is looking at the clock for the minute reason she needs to book it out. jamie is sitting a table away and watching intently and hanna, hanna is sitting rather miserably, chin on the table, eyes on her watch, and fingers playing with the drink that’s currently keeping her alive.
please be late please be late please be late.
‘kim seolhyun?’ she looks up, dreading the sense of déjà vu that’s about to come over her because what. she notices a few things, he’s very tall, very on-time, and very unlike the image she’s been ready to torment her. he’s in a button-up and he’s already sitting across from her as he starts to pull things out his bag. ‘I’m bang minsoo your tutor.’ he’s tall, tall to the point where if she were standing she’d still have to view him from this angle. well she is watching him from a weird angle and he’s still pulling things out his bag. It’s a normal bag too, his clothes, normal too. he’s – normal. aside from exceptionally soft looking hair but who cares about that.
“you’re on time.” ‘I am.’ “you’re dressed normal.” ‘as are most college students.’ it’s then that she realizes he’s all about finished taking out all of his things, now scattered neatly across the table and she’s aware of the things she doesn’t have spread out. ‘now are you ready?’ “for what?”
‘I’ve reviewed your class syllabus and I’m planning on at least getting you prepared for your coming quiz, then we can start with fundamentals and such.’ he’s flipping through papers, books and hanna’s suddenly sitting a lot straighter than before. she also doesn’t take her eyes off how concentrated he seems to be. concentrated but – calm. It’s strange. ‘seolhyun-ssi?’ “huh?” she takes her eyes off Jamie, who’s busy throwing signals from behind his ear. questions probably but hanna can’t quite make them out because her tutor – minsoo is looking dead at her. ‘are you ready to begin?’ he doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that she has no paper as he’s already slid his materials over to her. he’s just waiting. “hanna.” ‘pardon?’ “hanna, I go by hanna.” ‘alright then hanna, lets begin.’ “yeah sure.”
‘that just about does it. review these concepts tonight and your oral exam should go fine. review some right after I leave though.’ “you’re leaving?” hanna’s almost embarrassed at the words, because they come out so easily and she’s still looking at the words he’s underlining when she says it. ‘your session’s up, and - I do have class.’ she’s even more embarrassed to say she’s having a good time because god her father won’t let her live it down. “okay, thank you. next week we’re meeting here right?” ‘ideally it would depend on if you pass tomorrow but yes here is fine.’
she understood concepts that she’d normally drown her teacher out. minsoo was patient and well he wasn’t speaking on overwhelming amount of english so she could follow. It’s probably why she’d been able to follow along, and probably why she didn’t notice the time pass, she does notice minsoo getting up – probably because it’s so abrupt and she’s sorting through her thoughts, but it makes her shift in her seat. even more so when jamie bounds over and fixes her with a stare – one she can’t quite read. hanna shifts even more, a strange shudder taking over as she immediately grabs for her drink.
‘okay so?’ “well – I didn’t throw my drink on him.” ‘I noticed.’
“okay he wasn’t too bad, I still want my drink.” ‘did you mean he wasn’t bad looking?’ “absolutely not, lead me to overpriced coffee!”
and if hanna sticks closer to Jamie during the walk there, neither of them complain.
of course she has to tell her father to stop looking for another tutor. It’s at the end of the next day, after studying thoroughly and doing not so bad on her oral exam the morning after their tutor session. he’s in the study, normally where he doesn’t like being bothered, but there’s her mom, lounging on the chair while he flits back and forth between bank books and the laptop. how they spend so much time together is beyond her. she pops in and eyes are on her.
“hey, just wanted to say I’ll be keeping this tutor.” ‘he’s cute isn’t he?’ is the first thing her mother says and hanna quite literally falls from where she’d been planning to stick her head in and right out. “shameless.” ‘didn’t hear a no.’
‘that’s great dear, it was getting hard to not do a full screening on the next one and scare them away.’ “yeah yeah thanks.” hanna’s composing herself, rubbing at her shoulders to relieve her goosebumps. her mother catches this immediately and looks up from her book, eyes calculating. ‘are you cold hun?’ her father looks up, more concern in his eyes than anything. the drama queen. “yeah, do you guys have the air on?” they share a look – the strange telepathy that they always do. ‘no – but darling you’re in a long-sleeved shirt.’ “I could be getting sick. I’ll take something.”
as it turns out, she’s not getting sick. that was evident after the hoard of medication she’d taken and the lack of actual flu or cold symptoms. couldn’t be allergies as hanna has none, and there’s no bug going around school.
she just feels.
antsy.
she keeps shivering whether she’s in her clothes or not, itching and shaking even under cold water.
the morning after the conversation with her parents she’d bundled up fiercely the next day, making sure she would sweat out whatever cold would hit her. when it seemed like the fabric of her clothes was just making things worse, she opted for shorter sleeves and lighter, softer clothing. something to take away the itch that’s making her body shake.
‘maybe you’re allergic to something.’ Is jamie’s rationing. “my allergies would’ve been shown up.” is hanna’s answer.
she considers her diet, though she’s relatively a healthy person, she makes a log of what she could’ve eaten to cause it. but again, she has no food allergies either, she’s relatively healthy and it doesn’t feel like a food issue. even if her stomach does start to twist and turn now and then, it’s not the sick feeling from eating something bad – and hanna would know she’s had food poisoning.
she gets chills, has goosebumps she can’t really see. Her stomach twists no matter how much ginger tea she drinks and she’s at the point of wanting to jump out her own skin. It’s led to her being quite irritable too. rolling her eyes when her teacher asks her a question she knows hanna doesn’t know the answer to, snapping at someone near her parking space on her way to class.
‘could be your period babe.’ “my period was two weeks ago.”
and it’s not that either. It’s not the emotion that double over before her period, it’s not the stabs in her stomach that start coming early, or the cravings she’ll likely have. It’s none of that and this is the first time hanna’s wished that it was, at least then she would know what to do. because right now she wants to shed her own skin, feels like she’s growing in and out of it at the same time. feels like she’s itching something but never quite scratching it, like she needs something soothing but the burn isn’t painful it’s just – uncomfortable.
“do I need to see a doctor?” it’s a week into this when she mentions it to her parents. a week of her arriving irritable to school, practically clinging to jamie and saying nothing but groaning each time she feels a pull she doesn’t understand. like her skin was rubber and something was trying to call her back, pulling her thin but not ripping just – stretching. hanna was in agony and her mother now sat on the edge of the couch, running her hand through her hair while her father observed her. she’d told them her symptoms but she’s all but realized how crazy she must sound. ‘describe it again seol.’ hanna groans into the pillow but her mother’s touch is – distracting, helps her focus. “feels like I’m being tugged in several directions, everything is subtle but at the same time it’s overwhelming. It’s like if someone pressed needles against you but just the tip so you didn’t feel the pain. It’s terrible.” If anything, she would get bonus points in creative writing for her descriptions. If her teacher could see her now. Hanna wishes no one could see her, wishes she could all but melt into the couch. ‘do you know when it started?’ “I don’t know last week sometime?”
all these questions and all hanna wants to do is bury further away from it all. 
‘we’ll get you to a doctor this afternoon, are you still going to class?’ she wants to say no, wants to stay right where she is until later this afternoon, instead she drags herself up and to her room. If she were more attentive, she might’ve noticed the look her parents share as she heads to get ready.
jamie is ready with a chamomile tea, a hint of ginger and a hug for Hanna when she walks out of her class. she makes no comment on how hanna left early and just smothers her in a hug, a hug that hanna can’t be bothered to wiggle out of. she focuses on the fact that it’s jamie and not that her body feels like it wants to be somewhere else but can’t figure itself out. instead they head to the library, jamie sending worried glances each time hanna shakes her shoulders or holds her head.
“please not headaches.” she doesn’t have time to think because as the headache grows there’s a figure before them both. it’s of course her tutor, though it was almost hard to tell because of the mask he’s sporting. ‘sorry, I’m a bit late.’ truthfully hanna hadn’t noticed. she’s more concerned at how he sounds as bad as she feels. ‘ready to start?’ “are you feeling okay?” is the first thing hanna asks, jamie having left her side so they can start. ‘nothing too bad, wore a mask in case it’s contagious but I don’t think so.’ “i’d take anything over whatever is hitting me right now.” she swears she gets a smile at the comment, but they’re launching into problems right away.
for the past week, the discomfort that hanna’s felt has been relentless. it started in small bursts but began to last the entire day, hence why she’d begged her parents to see a doctor today. as minsoo starts to finish reading her homework for the week, she’s suddenly aware that she’s feeling better. much better. his mask is off too. she’s grateful because truthfully, hanna didn’t think she could get through this session with that same pain that’s been plaguing her. she’s also relieved that he seems to be feeling better. she has half a mind to text her parents that all are good but he’s getting up, things packed already and her lips move with an urgency new to her.
“hey, can I get your number, in case I feel under the weather again and actually can’t show up?” minsoo’s giving it though, without question or complaint and hanna’s waving the phone as she waves him off. ‘you look like you’re feeling better.’ “thank god, or he might’ve asked for different pupil.” ‘mmmmm, I doubt that.’
hanna shrugs though, making sure to send a quick message to him.
to: 💥 minsoo [ hanna! ✌️ ] from: 💥 minsoo [ 👌 ]
when she arrives home, her mother is questioning her instantly.
“i just feel better? not sure, but my tutor session went well!” just to bring the mood up because she can see her parents are visibly concerned. ‘but hanna, you were in pretty bad shape.’ “maybe I just needed to flush out a bad bug, I feel fine!”
hanna’s in the same predicament, though it feels worse than before. the symptoms double over within half the time from before and she’s cuddled under her covers trying every possible position to ease the discomfort.
‘hanna I’m really worried.’ jamie’s voice rings on the other end of the line. “don’t worry, I really think it needs to run it’s course.” whatever it is.
whe doesn’t miss tutoring this week, though she can tell from minsoo’s hair, a little shaggy on the edges, that he’s dealing with his own things too. things that seem to disappear during their session, a reason why she makes it a goal to not miss them, no matter how bad she feels. It’s not exactly pain anyway, it’s just discomfort.
body-shaking discomfort.
she continues her routine. suffering for a week but managing to make her tutoring sessions just because she can. and they always make her feel better in that moment, a reason why she thinks it might just be stress.
two more weeks pass and hanna’s sure it’s not just a bad bug. because the intervals are shorter where she feels discomfort. It goes from a few days to one day to a few hours. it gets bad that she’s in her bed staring at her phone.
to: 💥 minsoo [ hey, it’s hanna! I might not make our session tomorrow, I’m really not feeling well. 😷😷😷😷 ] from:💥 minsoo [ I hope I didn’t give you what I caught, it’s not exactly fun ] to: 💥 minsoo [ don’t think what I have is contagious ] from:💥 minsoo [ how so? ]
and hanna hadn’t planned on discussing this, talking past her update but, she indulges.
to: 💥 minsoo [ feels like my insides being stretched ] from: 💥 minsoo [ ouch, in every direction and nowhere at all ] to: 💥 minsoo [ YES ] from: 💥 minsoo [ sorry I might’ve given it to you ] to: 💥 minsoo [ hm, I likely gave it to you ] from: 💥 minsoo [ either way, I hope you feel better ] to: 💥 minsoo [ if you find any remedies tell me!!!!! ] from: 💥  [ sure thing. ]
and for good measure.
to: 💥 minsoo [ goodnight! ]
she feels worse after missing their session. much worse. to the point where she’s pacing around her room, stepping in place, doing anything to try and ease her body and it’s confusion. it’s restless and it’s making hanna’s head spin. when her parents ask she just says she doesn’t know. when she asks the doctors they just say they don’t know.
because yeah that gives her hope.
“seriously I have no idea what it is.” hanna’s panting now, having resorted to running to let off some steam. she’s on the phone with minsoo, who despite his own afflictions has been a good comfort for her during it all. ‘me neither, needless to say, I keep worrying my sister.’ “my parents are surprisingly calm, though I know they’re worried.” they haven’t kept off her case, in a good way though. They check up on her and give her food without her needing to ask, she’s just been unable to feel reprieve from anything really. minsoo had laughed when she told him how her father hovered by the door ready to get her anything. “I’ll have fun trying to explain this sick note to my professors.” not that she minds, maybe she needed the break. running like this, and watching minsoo’s face change as he talks, as she cools down and listens, isn’t too bad.
‘hanna.’ “hm?” ‘you’ve been walking a while where are you?’ “uhm, don’t know. Why?” ‘it looks familiar…’ for a second it looks like he’s leaning into the screen and then there’s a flurry of movement, then laughter. ‘you’re nearing my neighborhood, how’d you manage that?’ “who knows. didn’t realize I was walking that far.” ‘I’ll come down.’ before she can say that he doesn’t have to, or that he’s not feeling well, she sees his figure approaching from the end of the street. funny enough, he looks like he ran. “you didn’t run here did you….” ‘I needed the exercise. I feel better already.’ and though he’s joking, catching his breath hanna’s been feeling immensely better since a little after her run. enough that she can smile fully at him, even laugh at his words.
he walks with her for the rest of her cool down. a cool down that she feels like she doesn’t even need because everything’s settled right now. It could be, and hanna considers it, the calm of the night, maybe she needed a good run. maybe she needed a change in environment, in pace. whatever it is, it’s working. has her joking with minsoo and feeling like herself, feeling that she’s missed their sessions all too much.
‘is that true?’ she doesn’t realize she’s spoken the words until she meets minsoo’s eyes on her. and she’s suddenly very aware of how close they’re walking together. hanna doesn’t move though, instead she just laughs and averts her eyes. “I miss them, they were the highlight of my week.” which isn’t a lie, even if she tries to put sarcasm in her tone. really, english tutoring as the highlight of her week? it was true whether she denied it or not. she suddenly didn’t mind if he knew or not. ‘it’s definitely been the best part of my few weeks.’
they walk a bit more, night closes in a bit more and they lose track of time. to where her father’s messaging her and hanna almost dreads having to go back, having to end the peace. but she’s feeling better so there’s a plus.
“I have to head home before my father sends a search party.” and – as if he knows. as if her eyes reveal everything without knowing, minsoo’s speaking up as she turns. ‘I’ll walk you.’ she doesn’t object. not when he sticks just as close, not when they pass the gates to her compound and he’s at the door, past the door and they’re laughing in the study.
‘you’re feeling better.’ Is what her mother says first. they’re both at the door, her father’s arm wrapped snug around his mother’s waist, his eyes on minsoo. “hey, sorry i’m late. i ran into minsoo? guess we both just needed a run.” ‘both? minsoo I wasn’t aware you weren’t feeling well either.’ ‘I’m fine ma’am, i was worried I’d given whatever I had to hanna but I’m glad that’s not the case.’ ‘i’m glad too. hanna do try to answer your phone more often, your father gets restless.’ “please, he’d be up the roof if it was you.” to which hanna’s father, the joke of her life, quite literally picks her mother up bridal style as he announces his love. hanna notices minsoo’s confusion and realizes she’s never told him, though she’s never in a position to tell anyone. “my parents are a soulmate match. for them they can’t spend too much time apart of they get restless, it’s wild. you’d think my mother was going through menopause.” ‘hanna!’ though her mother’s words have no bite while she’s literally being hugged tight by her husband, even after he’s set her back on her feet. ‘is it painful?’ are minsoo’s first words. unsurprising because most people have tons of questions when they hear about it. minsoo never seemed the curious type though, but hanna leans back and watches as her parents perk up at the opportunity to talk about their love.
‘at first it was unbearable? because we didn’t know what was going on or how to tell the cause. with ours it’s hard to tell but overtime the pull quite literally leads you to them because you’re in agony.’ ‘the pull?’ minsoo looks thoroughly interested and hanna – for whatever, maybe the aftereffects of this nonexistent flu, finds it cute. ‘hard to describe, the body literally cannot stand the distance for too long. after a while it becomes easier to withstand distance, the discomfort is there but not as strong the more time we spend together afterwards, and the more we deal with it. hanna’s father is just a baby. Hanna takes after him I suppose, she’s been moping about this house you’d think she was having period pains.’ “mom!” minsoo, the traitor, finds it his job to laugh and hanna quite literally thinks about knocking him out the couch. Until he smiles her way saying stupid things like: ‘glad you’re feeling better now.’
hanna’s floored because she’s got an urge in that moment. and it makes her want to shove everyone away, and yet, pull one person close.
abort mission.
she’s shooing everyone out, minsoo particularly.
‘he can’t go home by himself this late.’ “HUH?” the one time her father wants to be lenient about a boy.
the one time.
‘it’s fine I can call a taxi.’ ‘nonsense, we have a guest room down here.’
after much preparation hanna’s closing the door after bidding him a good night and a small apology. she sees her parents from atop the stairs and marches past them and their smug grins to her room.
‘he’s what?’ “downstairs in the guest room.” ‘wow, third base already.’ “like you haven’t slept over at sam’s.” ‘touche.’
just then hanna’s phone vibrates and she’s looking at the screen and nearly dropping her phone.
from: 💥 minsoo
“he’s texting me, jamie. jamie minsoo’s texting me why’s he texting me he’s downstairs what’s going on?” ‘well I suppose we won’t know the answer to that unless you read it and text back now would we?’
touche.
from: 💥 minsoo [ thanks for letting me spend the night. forgot to say so earlier. ]
“why’s he thanking me, he should thank my parents.” ‘idiot – does he have your parents on speed dial, no he has your cute ass.’
to: 💥 minsoo [ it’s no problem! I hadn’t realized how late it was, hope you don’t mind. ] to: 💥 minsoo [ hope you’re not secretly a thief either. sorry about my lovey-dovey high school parents ]
From: 💥 minsoo [ don’t mind at all. It was nice of them. and they’re nice too, obviously very in love. i’ve seen soulmate pairs before but they’re – refreshing. ]
‘oho, soulmate talk.’ “I’m gonna hang up.” ‘fine, hang up and talk to your loverboy.’
hanna chokes.
to: 💥 minsoo [ are they? I thought they’d be a bit much. you never seemed like you’d be interested in that. from: 💥 minsoo [ soulmate lore and stuff? you never asked. ] to: 💥 minsoo [ i’m sorry among all the agony and english suffering I forgot to ask about soulmate lore with you. ] from: 💥 minsoo [ what do you think of it then? ]
In that moment, hanna has to take a break because a headache’s coming. She almost groans at the feeling and jamie picks up immediately.
‘I’m going to assume he didn’t say anything bad, you okay?’ “yeah I might turn in, not feeling good again.” ‘okay, call me if you need anything alright?’ “okay bye bye.” sealed with extra loud lip smacks and kiss noises because of course.
from: 💥 minsoo [ you okay? ] to: 💥 minsoo [ yeah, headache. maybe I’ve been up too long. ] from: 💥 minsoo [ not good, you should take a nap ] to: 💥 minsoo [ but! soulmate! lore! ] from: 💥 minsoo [ someone’s excited. ] to: 💥 minsoo [ I can talk all night about it, since I have first hand encounters ] from: 💥 minsoo [ I’ll be up all night, can’t seem to sleep ] to: 💥 minsoo [ I’ll be down in five ]
and for some reason he doesn’t protest. so hanna wraps herself in her blanket and slinks her way downstairs to the guest room, praying to the gods that her parents don’t wake up. or even if they do, they don’t ask.
they talk all night. hanna���s headache that was calling her to bed nowhere to be found. minsoo’s restlessness lulled into alertness and attention he gives her the entire night, both splayed over the living room couch. he tells her about his doubts and beliefs in the soulmate theory, his experiences both good and bad. he tells about couples he’s seen fail and couples he’s seen prosper, talks about how hopeful hanna’s parents can make people. hanna talks about her fears with it, her reservations and also her fascination when she looks at her parents. they talk and they talk until they can’t fight sleep and it’s the easiest sleep they’ve had in weeks, though neither admit. they just fall into one another.
that’s how hanna wakes up. with her head between her arms, placed firmly on the edge of the couch and minsoo’s chest directly in front of her. she doesn’t move though, relishing in the best sleep she’s had in weeks. in fact, it’s the sound coming from the kitchen that wakes her. it’s a glimpse of her father peeking over the couch and her making eye contact that has her shrieking and bounding for her room.
when she’s showered and changed and sent jamie a promise text to tell her everything, she joins her family. minsoo is up and looking so well-rested that he hasn’t quite fixed his hair yet. it’s cute ad insufferable, hanna wants to crawl back upstairs. but she quite literally feels her headache disappear when he waves a good morning and she waves back, turning to glare at her parents before they can say anything. of course, her mother isn’t phased.
‘you both slept well.’ “good morning and good bye mother.” ‘I made breakfast.’ “to go, I have class and minsoo has to get home.” ‘I’ll take---’ “I’ll drive him thank you father.”
hanna’s grabbing the keys, the kimbap and literally rushing minsoo out the door before her parents can trap them any further.
easily, thankfully, they fall into conversation as if they hadn’t fallen asleep earlier. hanna offers to drive minsoo to campus and the top-down on her car makes his hair more of a statement when they arrive. so much so that she’s laughing and he’s puzzled.
‘you’ve been laughing for fifteen minutes, earlier I was worried we’d crash.’ “yikes, your faith in my driving skills. here hold on.” without prompt, without warning really, hanna’s leaning over to fix the strands of hair that have gone wild. not like she couldn’t just tell him because now he’s this close and hanna thinks she can’t breathe but this is the easiest it’s been to breathe in weeks. and that’s scary. terrifying.
‘hanna!’ thank god for jamie. because hanna, jumps back and is hopping out the car to greet her friend. thank god for jamie but oh god jamie, jamie doesn’t spare one single glance moving from hanna to minsoo and her eyebrows doing that thing that makes hanna want to run. ‘thanks for the ride.’ Is all minsoo says, a smile on his face after he bows to jamie and waves himself off. hanna’s got about two seconds of leeway and she’s considering running, instead she calls after minsoo, practically bounds after him. “can I walk with you, I barely know your classes.” she half expects him to deny her, instead he’s nodding. and hanna for now will say it’s just to avoid getting grilled.
except that it becomes a routine. and hanna hadn’t planned that. hadn’t planned on getting used to the feeling of walking with minsoo to classes and him eventually walking her to hers. after one morning where he doesn’t and she does so bad on her english exam he’s waiting outside with vanilla bean and she’s forgetting all about it.
seriously what kind of warlock is he, hanna’s been trying to figure it out. she’s so caught off-guard that jamie’s managed to pull her out her daze with a fry to her face.
‘maybe you just like him.’ “pardon.” ‘you literally suffer when he’s not around, you like him.’ hanna takes a careful sip of her drink, letting jamie mull over her words. when she doesn’t, hanna swallow. “nah.”
jamie groans.
she does enjoy the company he brings though. the feeling of him walking beside her to class, to tutoring, even home that’s become more routine. it’s always the leaving part that hanna can’t quite get over, always makes her rub her hands together as if she’s collecting static, settling herself. she thinks nothing of it though, glad to be free of whatever plagued her in the earlier months.
except that the bug comes back.
at the worst of times in her opinion. it’s midterm season and while she’s enjoyed the help he’s given her, thoroughly enjoyed his presence around her, how they’ve started grabbing coffee together and even eating out when tutoring lasts too late, they need to study. hanna doesn’t want to disrupt minsoo’s study schedule and respects the request to take their tutoring out of midterm week. that also means, he’s busy studying that he’s not around to walk her to classes, and it’s not like hanna’s been dependent on it, that’ silly. but she feels it, feels it more apparent than she thought she would from the week before midterms start, into the beginning of the exam week.
‘maybe it’s because you guys just spend so much time together.’ Is jamie’s answer. Though hanna can tell jamie’s beginning to worry, about a lot really. hanna doesn’t get attachments like this, and the fact that it’s becoming so apparent and so troublesome that it’s affecting her environment. jamie’s worried but doesn’t want her worry to affect hanna. hanna appreciate it, so she wants to get to the bottom of this.
‘you could just miss him.’ is the solution her mother offers, still perched in the couch in the study, a book on soulmates in her hand. it’s plausible, even if it’s only been a few days since she’d seen him, it’s very plausible. hanna takes a look at the book in her mother’s hand and ignores how her stomach churns at the title. ignores what that might mean for her.
because to hanna that was dependence bordering on insanity. for her, for minsoo, whom she barely knew. sure she knew the little things, like his favorite color nowadays, how simple he liked his wardrobe, how tall she’d have to stand on the top of her toes to reach his height. how he likes his coffee and which classes he dreads and why, his little ticks when he doesn’t understand things and just how endearing it is that he can not understand things. the look on his face or the color on his face when she points out that she thinks it is endearing. she knows these little things, has saved them for the moments when she’s stuck in a long day and she knows they can still walk home together.
she knows that but it’s not enough to need. it shouldn’t be.
but hanna counts all that she knows, all she’s beginning to adore and she’s getting frightened.
scared as she is, she doesn’t get to hold it in for long. it’s the middle of midterm week and she’s sure she’s going to fail her english midterm tomorrow because she can’t fucking focus. for the life of her, her body itches and the covers aren’t helping but she’s wrapped in them anyway. she doesn’t want to call anyone, ask anyone, she just wants the feeling gone.
as if on cue her phone vibrates.
from: 💥minsoo [ you doing okay? ] to: 💥minsoo [ guess ] from: 💥minsoo [ exam stress? ] to: 💥minsoo [ nope, worse ] from: 💥minsoo [ penny for your thoughts ] to: 💥minsoo [ I’ll give you a million if you come by ] from: 💥minsoo [ on my way ]
and hanna doesn’t wait. she’s downstairs and meeting him outside the door.
they walk and they walk and they walk until they come across a playground. hanna on the swings and minsoo sitting quite literally in front of where she stops.
‘any reason you chose swings?’ “any reason you’re sitting there?”
touche.
she steps back, as far back as she can before the swing is pressed into her back and minsoo is a few feet in front of her. and she stays there, stays there and watches him. he sits absently, fingers idle in the woodchips, night just moving around him. around his shoulders, around his hands, his silhouette.
hanna looks for strings first.
she feels the first tug but sees none. it’s not like the swing is pressing into her back, it’s the opposite. something pulling. with the tug comes the itch, the shudder. and it’s not the cold. she sees no strings though, nothing buzzing around minsoo. but she sees him shudder, sees him look up instantly in her direction.
when their eyes meet hanna allows herself to sit and walk forward until her feet kick lightly against his own.
she moves back again, as far back as the swing will let her. and waits. without a word, waiting for something in the moonlight around him to shift. like how tides just follow the pull of the moon, she waits for it. then her skin starts to crawl and his eyes haven’t left hers, so she sits and moves forward again. this time his hand is on the swing when her feet kick at his. stopping, holding.
‘you’re a glutton for punishment.’ “I was testing my theory.” ‘which is?’
hanna bites at her lip. even the sting she feels couldn’t quite compare to the feeling, the calm that settles over her each time she swings back over to him.
“you know how – you can only go so far on the swing, until you’re yanked back.” ‘i’m aware.’ “that’s what it’s like with you. like pulling tight of a band until it’s released back.” ‘and it’s like it was never pulled in the first place.’ “right-!! you know?” ‘well since it’s a soulmate thing, the other person feels the same you know.’
hanna’s suddenly very shy and very grateful for how dark it is.
“so do you – how do you feel?” ‘how do you feel?’ “scared as hell. excited. better than I felt earlier.” ‘I’m about the same. not as scared, curious. willing.’
the last one has hanna’s head snapping up, minsoo who’d been looking elsewhere, maybe for a pull of the tides too, fixes his eyes back on her.
“willing to – what?” ‘well, I’m here.’ “you’re helpful.”
but hanna’s smiling as she says it. smiling and playing with the chips below her feet.
‘hey, fate picked me.’ “well - i’d pick you.”
oh boy is she glad it’s dark as hell outside.
“how long did you know, I can’t believe you two knew.” ‘i can’t believe you took so long to figure it out.’
hanna is, staring quite scandalized at her parents, while minsoo sits not bothered in the slightest, at the kitchen counter. they’d talked, but upon deciding that hanna does need to sleep to attempt to pass her exam, that she head home. minsoo of course had walked her, her parents had of course been up when they arrived.
‘admittedly your mother was in denial so you take after her.’ if it weren’t for the skillet she was focusing on, hanna was sure her father would have a spoon shaped mark on his face. “i wasn’t in denial.” minsoo makes something that sounds like a snort and hanna is betrayed. ‘jamie even asked me outside your class if i’d give you time to figure it out.’ “wow is this why sam’s friends were ready to kill each other, how long have you known.” ‘since the first night your parents let me stay here.’ “i am surrounded by traitors.” ‘i’m wondering if he should still tutor you.’
if she weren’t starving, hanna would’ve gone right to bed. but minsoo took the blanket and is offering a more comfortable spot curled up beside him. and pancakes. comfort and pancakes and minsoo seem like the better option. and when hanna’s close to falling asleep, head on his shoulder and stomach full, she thinks it might be the forever option.
fast forward to present day.
‘are you okay hanna?’ jamie asks, with snickers that she can’t keep in from across the table. “no.” and as she says it, hanna’s feels another itch at her skin, causing her head to fall promptly back on the desk. 
“a vacation with his sister, why.” ‘yes, the nerve of your boyfriend, spending time with his family.’ “he said he’d be back today.” ‘yes, he said sometime this afternoon, it’s one.’
hanna is close to drowning herself in this damn vanilla bean when she hears a chime, and already feels the ache start to subside. already feels a smile curling, though she’s a bit peeved.
“i’m the glutton for punishment.” ‘i missed you too.’ and she’s pouting, even when he hands her a souvenir, up until the kiss pressed to the top of her head. up until all of the ache disappears and she’s engulfed in arms for the remainder of their time at the cafe. engulfed in the very feeling that makes her feel like, the wait doesn’t hold a candle to the reward. and it never will.
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“The Haunting of Howland House”
Gen, 1558 words, demon Shane, some violence
In Shane’s defense, he’s pretty sure he would be a skeptic if he were human.
In Shane’s defense, he’s pretty sure he would be a skeptic if he were human. Actually, he still is a skeptic. Half of the crap Ryan says to him is just absolute nonsense. Especially when it comes to the paranormal.
And it’s not like he’s omniscient. He is skeptical of everything he can’t confirm empirically, even though admittedly, as a demon, he has a few extra senses and several extra centuries to gather empirical data about the existence of certain things. So it’s not an act.
“For the last time. Ryan. There’s no such thing as demons,” Shane says.
Okay, so it is kind of an act.
But the fact is, the demons Ryan is so scared of? The ghosts that he describes? They don’t match up with what Shane’s seen.
And for the record? The fans aren’t on to him. He didn’t start the rumors and jokes, but he also didn’t let them simmer away and disappear. It’s like that one post he saw, screencapped from Tumblr on some other social media site, or maybe sent to him by a friend, about how Bruce Wayne being Batman is a joke Bruce helped encourage.
The fans aren’t on to him, but they know, but they don’t really know. Some of them might even truly suspect. But there’s an infinite capacity to ignore the truth that isn’t actually unique to humans.
“Get out of here,” he tells the ghost, who is sitting at the piano, unaware of the gaping hole in the side of her head, marring her once-pretty face. “Don’t you know you’re dead, you stupid human?”
She keeps playing, gazing at sheet music that isn’t there, her fingers moving slowly, but not inexpertly, across the ivory keys. She stops almost through the piece and starts back over.
It’s when the song is just picking up a little from the first soft notes of the piece that Ryan comes flying down the hallway, and bursts out - “did you hear that?”
Shane turns away from the piano.
“Hear what?”
“Music!” Ryan says.
“Oh,” says Shane, “I was playing a little tune. I turned off my mic. Sorry, buddy, I didn’t think you’d be able to hear.”
Ryan sighs. “You asshole, you scared the crap out of me!” Then, “I didn’t know you could play.”
“Oh, I mean, who doesn’t know a little piano?” He says.
“Now you have to play something, or the viewers will be pissed.”
Shane scoffs. They’re on YouTube, the viewers are always pissed. Above all things uniquely human, all things demons could never in a million years come close to, it’s the raw viciousness of a YouTube comment section. No amount of primordial, ethically neutral chaos beings could ever sow as much mayhem as a single internet troll.
“You owe me for giving me a heart attack. Besides, it’ll prove you actually have some talents. And,” he declares, “if you don’t play something I’ll say it was a ghost and you’re just lying cos you don’t want to admit you heard it.”
The woman’s spirit isn’t playing right now, hasn’t been since Ryan came running in. She’s standing by the window, the one that the stray bullet had struck her through.
Shane doesn’t know how to play the piano. Not really. But he’d watched her play the notes over and over.
He sits down, grumbling under his breath about only doing this for the Boogaras who’d be embarrassed by Ryan’s underhanded tactics, and poises his hands over the keys.
“I don’t even know what song I was playing,” Shane says, “it was just sort of automatic.”
“Now I’m starting to think you played creepy piano music on your phone, you big faker,” Ryan goads him on.
“I was playing,” he insists. Draws on Maggie’s memories, the faint imprint of her soul and the lingering buzzing of energy where her fingers had touched the keys.
And he plays.
Maggie’s spirit becomes more opaque, but blurred around the edges, like smudged chalk, the longer he plays.
“This doesn’t sound like a bit of piano,” Ryan says.
Shane doesn’t stop playing, can’t stop playing, because he thinks he gets it now. “Shouldn’t have challenged me if you didn’t want to see something awesome, baby!” He says.
Ryan edges closer. “Dude, where did you learn to play piano?”
“Music is just math,” he says.
“And you said you didn’t remember the piece.”
“I don’t remember what it’s called, and yeah, I was on autopilot before. Now you’ve summoned up the demon of musical talent.”
“Yeah, yeah. You can stop showing off.”
“Nah,” says Shane, “I’ve got to finish the piece.”
“How long is it? We don’t have all night.”
“Oh, but we have time for like fifteen minutes with your stupid spirit box,” Shane says. “It’s a few minutes.”
Maggie’s got color to her now, even though she looks like ink on paper that got wet. Like someone has dragged the satuaration from 0 and back towards normal.
She sits beside him on the bench, movements jerky, like film skipping a frame.
Ryan is quiet.
He approaches the end, and when he hits the first note she never reached, longer and lower than the previous, she stands - steps to the window - brushes aside the curtains to look outside -
She looks like a living person, briefly, so briefly, out of the corner of Shane’s eye.
And then the bullet flies through her skull as he hits the last note, and this time her ghost bleeds, instead of wandering with an exit wound unnoticed.
She bleeds. The note lingers. Maggie falls. Down. Down, through the floorboards, her spirit finally going through the motions her body had.
Finally understanding.
Shane springs up from the piano bench. Hams it up for Ryan, bowing and crowing over having untold hidden talents.
“Hidden talent at being a real dick,” says Ryan.
The banter makes it easier to ignore the sudden emptiness of the house.
One of Ryan’s Post Mortem picks suggests Shane was possessed by a ghost, explaining his sudden piano talent. The fan even points out that the piece - John Field’s Nocturne No. 5 - would have been a contemporary one for Maggie Howland.
It’s tagged #TheTruthIsOutThere and #Boogara.
Shane throws up his hands. “I show any talent and suddenly I’m clearly possessed by a ghost?”
“It does make more sense than you actually having talent,” Ryan says, and Shane mugs an affronted look.
“But actually, I’m gonna have to agree with you here - ”
“Shaniacs, note the date and time, Ryan ‘Deliberately Contrary’ Bergara - ”
“I’m deliberately contrary? Me? You invented deliberately contrary, you contrary asshole.”
“You were about to agree with me, don’t stop on my account.”
“No, I’m not gonna say it now.”
“If you don’t say it I’m going to assume that you were going to say 'you’re right, Shane, ghosts are bullshit’.”
“I wasn’t - all right, fine, I’ll say what I was going to say.”
“All right, let’s hear it.”
“You sure? You ready for this?”
“Let’s hear it, come on, Bergara, we don’t have all day!”
Ryan shoots him a sly glance. “All right, but remember you specifically asked for this.”
“Stop dicking around and say what it is.”
“I was going to say, you’re right, it probably isn’t ghost possession because - ”
“Because ghosts aren’t real?”
“No, shut up, it’s because ghosts can’t possess someone who’s already possessed by a demon.”
“I - ” he laughs, “is that how it works?”
“What do you mean, is that how it works? How is a ghost going to possess someone already occupied by a demon?”
“I just figured it was a clown car situation.”
Ryan wheezes. The fans are gonna love this.
“A clown - no, it’s not a clown car situation!”
“So they can share real estate in a house, bunch of demons and ghosts chilling out, but in people - ”
“People aren’t houses - it’s single occupancy!”
“Single occupancy,” Shane repeats.
“I hate you,” Ryan mutters, then raises his voice, “The point is - Shane really does know how to play piano.”
“I do! I do. Not to brag, but. I can hammer out a tune or two.”
“So far I’ve seen you play exactly one tune.”
“I said one or two.”
“Not exactly staggering me with those hidden skills, buddy.”
So, the fans aren’t onto him, but it is common knowledge.
Humanity’s relationship with truth will never cease to fascinate him.
That’s the whole catch with these ghosts, isn’t it? They just can’t wrap their heads around their own mortality. Sometimes it’s just so sudden and senseless, like Maggie Howland and a stray bullet.
He’s - maybe immortal? - so this is one of those human things that he’s stuck watching from the outside. How life can just be snatched away in an instant, leaving a decaying body and an echo of their last moments born of the refusal to accept reality.
And the fans dance with the truth, or a version of it - he doesn’t know Satan, he doesn’t have wings or horns or a tail, unless he’s making the effort - but can’t quite accept it, until it’s just a joke.
And Ryan can chase the truth, and believe so wholeheartedly in things that do sort-of exist, without ever really reaching an understanding.
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Part six of HaruMichi Beauty and the Beast! See the Masterpost for previous chapters
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Haruka lie awake in bed. Michiru was… weird. She was a weird strange monster with a weird strange aversion to telling Haruka anything that could help.
Haruka thought about what it would have been like, walking in the garden with her when she was normal. Human. Haruka might want to… well, if she wasn’t afraid to touch her, she might have held her hand. There was something Haruka felt fondness for, under the claws and scales. If only…
Mina would interject there, Haruka knew. If there’s a big exception in the ‘everything’ you like about her, buddy, you don’t really like her.
But this was different, surely. This wasn’t someone who talked down to her or was a vegan or any of the other things that Mina had correctly predicted as dealbreakers. This was a bad situation, that Michiru clearly wanted out of. Maybe she didn’t say it, but Haruka knew.
She jumped up from bed and began to pace. There had to be something she could do. Haruka was handy. Haruka fixed all sorts of things. And maybe those things were inanimate, engines and toilets and the occasional bike chain, but really, she’d had to learn to do all those things, mostly through sheer stubbornness, so she could surely figure out a curse.
Usually, things weren’t really broken, they were just stuck or off track and needed guidance. Haruka looked out the window in the starry night and pondered. Michiru couldn’t tell her what was wrong, but neither could an engine. You had to take what signs you could and follow them to the problem.
What did she know? Michiru was cursed long ago, having once been beautiful. Beautiful and high class. She became something monstrous, and seemed to feel it was appropriate.
That was it! Haruka smacked the side of her head for not realizing sooner. She dashed from her room.
When Haruka had realized who she was, a lesbian and a butch one at that, she’d been afraid. She’d felt, well, monstrous. Inhuman. If there had been any magic in her small town world, it might have made her feelings real. And for Michiru, it had. It was so simple. No wonder Usagi and Makoto wanted them to spend time together. Michiru just needed to see it was okay!
She paused at the stairs that led to Michiru’s chambers. Part of her recognized the boundary, that there was one thing she was told not to do and therefore she should not do it. But surely-- Surely!-- Michiru would not mind if it turned her back to normal. She bounded up the stairs two at a time.
“Michiru!” She called at the top. Nothing. Haruka followed the hall to the first open door.
Unease crept over her. It was a bedroom, and for all she joked that she’d never see a room in worse shape than Minako’s, this one took the cake. Claw marks marred the stone walls, the bed clothes were strewn across the floor, which was also littered with glass. The vanity against one wall had a shattered mirror, and the items that likely belonged on its surface were knocked aside, half broken.
Haruka’s every instinct told her to run. But her every instinct told her to run every time she saw Michiru, and it was crucial to not give in to that impulse. So she pressed on through the next door, to a small room with a balcony.
Curiously, the only decor here was upright and in tact— just a small table, bearing a hand mirror. Haruka picked it up. It did not show her face in the glass, but Mina’s. She was in their apartment, reaching into their fridge. She handed someone— no, Haruka recognized the outreaching hand as her own— a beer. The mirror made no sound, but Haruka could read Mina’s expression well enough. Don’t you ever scare me like that again.
“Do you show the future?”
The mirror did not change. Haruka chose to take that as a good sign.
“Can you show me breaking the curse?”
The image blurred. It showed Haruka’s hand again, this time reaching for Michiru’s claw. She gave a start at the contact, looked afraid, but then light washed over her. As it faded Haruka saw she’d changed to what she must have looked like before, soft and gentle where she had been angular and cold.
“What are you doing?” Came a hiss from the shadows.
“It showed me breaking the curse!” Haruka set the mirror aside, ready to embrace Michiru. “I came to try, see, I thought maybe you needed to know it’s okay if you like women, and I don’t know if that’s right, but I’m going to do it!” Michiru still did not come forward into the moonlight. “I saw it, I just have to—“
“The mirror only shows you what you want to see.” Michiru’s voice was low. Fear shocked through Haruka’s bones, but she fought it down. “The events it shows will never come to pass.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” Haruka approached her slowly. She just had to take her claw in hand, and then… Her whole arm shook. “I just have to—“
Michiru rushed her as she had the first night, slamming her against the wall, one claw at her neck. “Do you think you know better than me? Do you think you are the first fool to think I could be something else?” Her claw wrapped around Haruka’s throat. “What, you saw a beautiful woman in the mirror,  and now you want her? You think I am something good, if only I did not scare you?”
She tossed Haruka to the floor.
“I will always scare you. It does not matter if I look like this or what you saw. I am not gentle and I am not kind. Those below me live on my mercy and I will not submit to anyone.” Michiru threw the mirror against the wall. It fell to the ground with a clatter, but did not so much as chip. “You will run, when you realize. I am not grateful for your efforts. I have loved and been loved and it does not matter.”
“But—“
“No.” Michiru struck the table aside. Haruka’s heart raced in her chest. “The people of the town turned against me because they knew what I was. I would not change for them or for love or for anything else. And I will not change for you.” She slithered back towards the door. “I have quite enjoyed your company, but I don’t wish to see you any longer. Keep out of my sight until you friend comes for you.”
Haruka lie on the floor, listening as she retreated. Panic gripped her too much to move. Panic, and pain.
“Oh Haruka,” came Usagi’s voice after a long while. “I told you not to come here.” She lifted Haruka gently, her cool touch easing the tender bruises before they fully formed.
“Have there been others like me?”
“Not many.” She pulled Haruka to lean against her body. It felt like a cloud. “You’ve done more than she expected. I don’t think any girl has tried this hard since she was human.”
“Can’t you tell me what you know?”
Usagi made a small, mournful hum. “Michiru thinks I’m stupid, and Mako tries not to, but she does too. But I can put things together pretty okay, so I know more than I’m supposed to.” She stroked Haruka’s hair with her fingers. “We were all pawns for her, to an extent. She’s genuinely fond of Mako and I, but we’re an anomaly. The townspeople, her suitors, everyone, she cared about only so far as what they could offer her. She wanted more than just a big house in a small town. And her family was so rich, she probably could have gotten it. But the town started to suspect she didn’t care about them, and times were changing. They elected a mayor, and he thought it would be strategic for Michiru to make a sign of goodwill. A marriage.” Usagi chuckled a little. “It’s strange the townspeople liked him, he was just as entitled as our lady. But she rejected him, very publically, and it was not wise to do so.”
“So he cursed her?’
“Oh no,” Usagi shook her head vigorously. “Don’t you know, curses are women’s work.”
“So then…” Haruka puzzled over it for a moment. “Who?”
“I pieced together the rest, so I’m missing details. But like I told you, I know all the places one might have a foray with a suitor in this house. And Michiru hand a small handful, all women.” Usagi tapped her fingers again the floor. “One had a brother, around Michiru’s age. I imagine she offered a marriage to him, to appease the town and so that they might stay together, lest MIchiru be driven out.”
“And Michiru turned her down?”
“Our lady would not think any common girl worth that sort of bargain, and she likely said as much.” Usagi sighed. “I want her to think you’re worth it. I don’t know if you can love her, but if she can love you… maybe it would be enough.”
“Will you be free, if she is?”
“I don’t know.” She became solid for a moment. Haruka felt comfort in the warmth of her skin. “I know, sometimes, that time has passed. I don’t know what’s left in the world for us. But I don’t want to stay here.” She faded again. “You can run away, if you want. I would, if I could.”
“I don’t think I could.” Haruka caught Usagi’s translucent hand in hers. “I don’t love her. I don’t know if I can. But sometimes, I kind of like her. And I like you. Someone should fight for you.”
Usagi squeezed her shoulders. “If anyone can fight for us, I think it’s you.”
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