#on the other hand; fourteen was the age of maturity then. so technically she had known her mother as both a child and an adult | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whatstruthgottodowithit · 1 year

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The Girl He Left Behind [Part Fourteen]

Fandom: American Actor, RPF, Elvis Presley, Elvis Movie 2022

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Gladys Presley, Vernon Presley, Minnie May ‘Dodger’ Presley, Red West, Sonny West, Gene Smith, Billy Smith, Original Female Characters, Colonel Tom Parker, Billy Smith, Marci Cunningham, Steve Cunningham, Jerry Schilling, Mary Jenkins, Alan Fortas, Marty Lacker, Original Male Characters, Mona Goodwin, Joe Goodwin

Word Count: 2824 // Rating: Mature

Summary: When Elvis returns home to Graceland from the Army he’s followed by the headlines ‘The Girl He Left Behind’ but what the media don’t know is that Priscilla wasn’t the first. No, that title belongs to someone Elvis will never forget.

Tags/ Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Graceland, Poverty, Friends to Lovers, 1950s Elvis, Bad Parenting, Surprise Surprise the Colonel Is a Colossal Prick, Parental Loss, Grief, Fun Fairs, Kissing, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Movie Nights, Arguing, Tension, Denial of Feelings, Age Gap Romance, Underage, Addison is 17 Elvis is 22, Guilt, Betrayal, Extortion, Blackmail, Jealous, Army Elvis, American Draft, US Army, Lying, Time Shift with Elvis moving to Memphis, Flashbacks, Caught

Notes: GUYS guess who might be getting together in the next chapterrrr

LINK TO ALL PARTS // AO3 LINK // PINTEREST LINK

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @artlesson8892

‘In bed!?’ Marci squealed watching the blush creep across Addison’s face as she shushed her. ‘Sshh! There’s a billion people in this house Mar!’ she said though she couldn’t stop smiling herself. ‘I can’t believe it. My best friend. In bed with Elvis Presley,’ she said shaking her head, ‘I should be jealous…but I’m not.’ ‘It wasn’t like that,’ she said self-consciously. Though he hadn’t kissed her she hadn’t failed to notice the way he pressed up against her when he thought she was sleeping. Or the way his fingers ghosted just under her nightdress making her think all sorts of things that made it impossible to drift off. It was like she was already living in one of her dreams. ‘I’m just glad the pair of you have stopped pretending you don’t like each other,’ she said rolling her eyes as Addison protested. ‘I never said I didn’t like him,’ she objected, ‘I just skated over how much.’ ‘Okay Mrs Technicalities,’ Marci said, rolling her eyes, ‘so has he said anything?’ ‘No,’ Addison said biting her lip. Though the mood had shifted around them he hadn’t told her any different and as much as she had longed for him to kiss her, he hadn’t, making her concerned she was reading into things the wrong way. ‘He’s probably just waiting for a better time,’ Marci said placing her hand on Addison’s knee, ‘I mean with your mom and everything this weekend he probably didn’t want to overload you.’ ‘Yeah,’ Addison snorted, ‘trust my mother to ruin everything when she not even around.’ Marci smiled sympathetically and then dropped her gaze uncomfortably. That was the other problem that had arisen over the weekend. Everyone seemed to be unsure as to how to deal with her. Some had let her know they were sympathetic, even treating her like she was fragile enough to break if they looked at her in the wrong way, and others treated her like herself or more to the point treated her like nothing had even happened. Like it was an unsightly blip never to be mentioned again. The only person who seemed to be okay around her was Elvis. He wasn’t too harsh when the topic of Mona came up, like Gladys was, and he didn’t look the other way as Vernon did. She felt better talking about it even if it was in the form of dry humour or sarcasm. It made it hurt a little less. ‘How are you doing after all that?’ Marci said after a moment. Addison shrugged. ‘Better I guess,’ she supposed. Addison had rung Marci the morning before they hit the road informing her friend of her change of circumstances and though she wasn’t one hundred per cent right she was better this afternoon than she was after that phone call. ‘I still can’t believe she did it,’ Marci said shaking her head, ‘to do that to you-’ ‘Is a very Mona thing to do don’t you think?’ Addison said, ‘look I know it’s a bad thing but honestly? I can’t say I’m surprised. I just want to get over it y’know?’ ‘And under someone else,’ Marci said wiggling her eyebrows. ‘Har-har,’ Addison said with a roll of her eyes. ‘Oh come on tell me you haven’t even thought about it,’ Marci challenged, ‘not even a little bit?’ Addison smiled wryly but said nothing climbing off her bed to grab her belongings. ‘Addie?’ Marci said incredulously waiting for her friend's response but she said nothing. ‘Come on,’ Addison said placing her purse on her shoulder, ‘they’ll be waiting for us.’ ‘Fine,’ Marci grumbled climbing up off the bed, ‘but if you two are gonna get up to something funky in that movie theatre just make sure the pair of us are sat real far apart.’ ‘Yeah we will,’ Addison said as they ducked into the hall ready to go and find the boys who would be heading with them to the Memphian tonight, ‘we leave the shows to you and Jer.’ ✵✵✵ Thunk. The folded newspaper hit the desk in front of Elvis making him glance down towards it. He was on the front-page mid-song under a scathing headline. He didn’t want to but he couldn’t help but feel his eyes trail down to it reading what the reporter from yesterday had written. ‘I’M NOT DOING ANYTHING WRONG’ says rock and roller Elvis Presley as he denounces those who criticise him. Elvis Presley, 22, said that he will not stop his lewd act for anyone when interviewed before the Atlanta Children’s Hospital Charity Performance yesterday. The performance, which was aired on both television and radio, aimed to be a good fundraising exercise for the local Children’s hospital but given the animosity the young rocker’s style of music leaves behind who is to say how those ratings were affected. Presley did not retract his statement when this issue was pointed out. Instead, he stated that he was sure his fans would come to his defence. ‘That’s bullshit!’ Elvis scoffed, shaking his head as he fell back in his chair. Anger and frustration boiled through him and worsened as he caught the Colonel looking at him with an ‘I Told You So’ expression plastered across his face. He had called Elvis into a meeting in the upstairs office the evening after they had gotten back. Elvis had been so ecstatic about the weekend that he hadn’t even noticed the scowl on the Colonel’s face until he had thrown that paper down in front of him. ‘Even so,’ the Colonel said, ‘someone’s still going to read it.’ ‘And they’re stupid if they believe it,’ he snapped. The Colonel rolled his eyes. ‘Your blind faith in truth will always astound me,’ the Colonel said. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Elvis baulked standing up, pacing up and down the room as he tried to fend off his anxieties. The Colonel didn’t bat an eyelid at him, continuing as though he had asked him what the weather was going to be like. ‘That the public's view of the truth doesn’t mean anything,’ the Colonel said. Elvis glanced at him with his brow furrowed as the older man continued, ‘but we all know that what actually happens and what you can convince an audience of are two different things. Reporters are snowmen too my boy. Like you and I.’ ‘I’m not a snowman,’ Elvis said bitterly. He hated when his manager said that. When he insinuated he was there to lure people in, rinse them of everything in their wallets and send them on their merry way. That wasn’t him. He was a performer and he was just trying to do what he did best. Perform. He just wished reporters and management would let him do it. ‘So you say but you have tried to snow me before now,’ the Colonel said. Elvis slowed watching the Colonel confused as he tried to understand his meaning, ‘like when you told me nothing was occurring between you and Miss Goodwin.’ ‘Colonel-’ ‘Assured me of it,’ the Colonel continued as if Elvis was a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar offering denials when it was clear he was guilty, ‘so tell me why I had to barter with this reporter not to run a story about the pair of you, hmm?’ ‘What?’ Elvis asked perplexed. ‘Or is Addison not the girl the bellboy found barely clothed in your bed yesterday morning?’ the Colonel said. ‘It’s not like that,’ Elvis reasoned. ‘Isn’t it? What do you think just because I’m an older gentleman I couldn’t possibly see the way she looks at you, or more to the point, the way you look at her,’ the Colonel asked making Elvis feel guilty. He supposed his manager was right the way they had been acting over the past couple of days would lead anyone to assume something was occurring it was just that no one was brazen enough to say anything to him. ‘Addie and I-’ ‘Cannot be seen together,’ the Colonel said. ‘You can’t tell me what to do,’ Elvis said indignantly. ‘I’m not telling you how to do anything,’ the Colonel shrugged, ‘I am simply pointing out that this might not be the best idea. And protest as you might you are heading down a slippery slope with your behaviour. Today is a bus boy paid handsomely to spill juicy details about what he saw.’ ‘He saw nothing. Nothing happened,’ Elvis said. ‘Even so. It’s not about what happened it’s about what they believe. And some fool reporter with an idea and a picture to back it up is enough. She’s a nice girl Elvis but you cannot deny she doesn’t come with her own share of problems,’ the Colonel said. ‘I don’t care about that,’ Elvis said. ‘And if they drag her through the mud as well as you?’ the Colonel said finally causing Elvis to stop pacing and look up at him. He hadn’t thought about that, not in a while at least. He was so focused on being happy he hadn’t thought about how the press might involve her. He was right about his fans. They would support him whatever he did when it came to his music but his love life? That had proved another story. They wanted him. They wanted to be the one he loved and most of his girlfriends had taken a hit. Some of them were tough enough to take it but he worried about Addison. As strong as she was, she was still young, still in school, not to mention all the heartache she had been through recently. Add jaded fans, paparazzi, and a new relationship into the mix he wondered if she’d cope. ‘Now,’ the Colonel said quietly leaning his elbows on the desk and looking up at Elvis. Elvis placed his hands on his hips, clenching his jaw as he looked at him, ‘I’m going to ask you again. Is there anything you need to tell me about yourself and Miss Goodwin?’ Elvis looked at him for a moment. He was watching him closely as if daring him to challenge him. He loved Addison with all his heart but the Colonel had a point. It wasn’t about navigating the situation for himself; he didn’t care about that. All he cared about was making sure she was okay. Even if that meant them pulling back, just for now. It was going to kill him to do so, after all, every attempt he had ever made had failed as her entire being intoxicated him, pulling him in till he was all consumed, but he needed to do it. ‘No Sir,’ Elvis said stoically. ‘Good,’ the Colonel said with a tight smile, ‘as for the other stuff let me worry about that.’ ‘Other stuff?’ Elvis asked raising an eyebrow. ‘Shows, appearances and the like. There has got to be a way to turn the tide with these reporters and I’m sure I’ll think of it. The Snowman always does,’ the Colonel said. Elvis nodded. ‘Right, sure,’ he replied, ‘is that it?’ ‘I think we’ve covered all we need to, don’t you?’ the Colonel said. Elvis nodded tightly and mumbled a ‘goodbye’ before he headed to the door. Once he got outside the office and the door was shut behind him he rested his head back against it with a sigh. He could hear people downstairs waiting for him. They were going to the Memphian on what was supposed to be a fun night out post-touring but it looked as though that wasn’t the case any longer. As if it would prolong the inevitable and keep them in a state of contentment Elvis crept down the stairs slowly. He spotted Addison first, sitting on the couch with Marci, whispering fervently to one another. She looked happy. As happy as he had been five minutes ago. And he was going to ruin it. He tried to tell himself that she probably wouldn’t mind. That maybe their relationship was completely one-sided but in his heart of hearts he knew that wasn’t the case. They had both felt the pull, something inside them yanking them together as if it was meant to be. He knew that. In fact, he’d known it for a while. He’d just forced himself to believe otherwise. She spotted him coming down the stairs and smiled at him. He returned it weakly though he didn’t go to her as he hit the bottom step, instead, he went to Red, essentially blocking her from view as if that would make his heart hurt any less. ‘Ready to go?’ Red said. Elvis nodded. As everyone started to roll out he headed out the door first towards the car where Sonny was already waiting. Addison watched him curiously wondering why he hadn’t waited for her. Mari looked at her with a puzzled expression but she shook her head hoping her friend wouldn’t ask any questions after all she wasn’t entirely sure what was going on either. By the time they all got outside he was sitting up front in one car with Sonny in the driver’s seat forcing everyone else into the back. Addison climbed inside with Marci quickly beside her wondering what an earth was going on. The drive wasn’t quiet as if no one noticed that there was something wrong with him but Addison couldn’t stop herself from staring at the back of his head. He kept his eyes front, responding to the conversation where needed but other than that giving little rapport. ‘It’s his last one for the year,’ Red said pulling her back to reality. He was talking about a show Elvis was due to perform over a month from now at their local baseball stadium. ‘Should be a good one too,’ Sonny said glancing at them in the rear-view mirror, ‘it’s better playing to a home crowd sometimes, right EP?’ ‘Right,’ Elvis said with little conviction. ‘It’s in Memphis?’ Marci asked excitedly. ‘Yeah, Russwood park,’ Red said. ‘Well I have to come to this one,’ she said, ‘I mean if y’all don’t mind.’ ‘I’m sure we can squeeze ya on the list, right EP?’ Red said with a smile that made Marci beam so much Addison thought she might pull a muscle. ‘What?’ Elvis said pulling out of his thoughts a little before mumbling an, ‘oh yeah.’ ‘Addie’s been telling me about how much fun y’all have had this weekend. So definitely sign me up,’ she said. As the boys laughed and joked Elvis glanced over his shoulder and their eyes met. His face was unsure, apologetic even, and it gave Addison a sense of dread she couldn’t shake as he turned back to look out the window. Something was wrong. As they pulled up at the Memphian he allowed Red and Sonny to climb out first, as usual, with Marci following quickly behind though before Addison could speak he climbed out, joining the group and making her unable to seize the opportunity to talk to him. She thought she might get a chance as they headed inside but whilst they hung around in the lobby he never seemed to stay still. Instead, he bounced from conversation to conversation always out of her reach. As Red announced they could go in everyone started to head inside but Addison was quicker. She stood by the door of the theatre, allowing everyone to file past until he was in front of her, then she placed her arm across the wooden door frame making him stop in his tracks. ‘We’re gonna miss the movie,’ he said trying to move past her but she didn’t move. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked, her hazel eyes peering into his face for any sort of answer. ‘Nothing,’ Elvis said, not relieving her worries in the slightest. She analysed his face for any glimpse of truth but he kept it neutral hoping she’d buy whatever he was telling her. ‘Promise?’ she said, tugging at his heartstrings once more. He didn’t want to lie to her but he also knew that this was the only way to protect her. So he didn’t lie but he didn’t tell the truth either, he gently skirted around it. ‘Would I ever lie to ya?’ he said with a knee-weakening smile. Addison didn’t seem taken in by it but after a beat she nodded and let her arm drop to her side. They walked in together but as she took a seat by Marci he moved to sit behind her, next to Red. He didn’t trust himself to sit next to her. He wouldn’t be able to keep himself to himself. The last time they had been there was different. Now he knew what her touch felt like. How it felt to hold her. No, to make good on his promise and protect her he needed to keep her at arm’s length.

#my writing #the girl he left behind #elvis #elvis presley #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x ofc #elvis fic

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britishassistant · 10 months

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Origin Stories (Don’t Get More Convoluted Than This)

“So why were you in a barrel?”

The firbolg walking alongside Nana makes an odd swallowing noise, and then begins coughing.

He rears away slightly, then begins patting down his many, many pockets. Trois-senpai drilled the importance of always having a hanky on hand into him in case of makeup malfunctions, messy meals, or a person in distress, so where is the damned—?!

“Ah, I’m fine, I’m fine!” The firbolg, who introduced herself fresh out the barrel as Ketsugi Mayu, holds up her hands. “Um, to tell you the truth, human-san, it’s rather…complicated?”

“Complicated.” Nana echoes, one hand still deep in the interior pocket of his gilet.

His fingers curl around the thin stiletto stashed in there.

“Complicated!” Ketsugi Mayu confirms, the tawny ears on the sides of her head twitching. “Although it does mean our meeting is very auspicious! Did you know, human-san, that when Luffy first appeared to Koby on the Grand Line, he too had sealed himself into a barrel to survive a whirlpool? For us to meet in the same way, it’s surely a good sign! Though, of course, Koby joined the Marines while Luffy went off to become the Pirate King and became comrades with Helmeppo—”

“Are you even saying real words right now?!” Nana interrupts.

“Of course I am!” Mayu is pouting now, an expression Nana has always thought looked slightly odd on those with more bovine noses. “This is important knowledge, you know! Understanding where Luffy and the others came from before they got their godly power levels is important to understanding their philosophies and living in accordance with their wishes!”

“Alright, alright.” He withdraws his hand from his pocket and scrubs at the back of his head, where the uneven fuzz has just begun to properly thicken.

Complicated. He can get that.

“I’m sorry for insulting your belief…system? Though seriously, please stop it with ‘human-san’, I told you, my name’s Johnny Powers. I’d rather you call me Nana.”

Mayu nods, eyes just as wide and guileless as the first four times he’d told her this. “Of course! And it’s okay, it took Na—my brother several retellings before he really got it. The StrawHats aren’t really the kind of people who’d hold something like this against you, either, so please don’t worry about anything on that end!”

This person, Nana decides, is a total weirdo.

Still, grasping at strings with this conversation, he tries. “You have a brother too? I’ve got a younger one myself. Are you the eldest as well?”

The firbolg’s long ears droop. He hadn’t even known that was even anatomically possible.

“I, ah, have two. Kind of.” Her eyes have lost most of their sparkle, looking more akin to those he sees in the fish on beds of ice at market. “They’re, they’re both older than me, though Le—the oldest is older by a year and the other one is only by a few months, so we’re both twelve. But we’re all different species, and we age at different rates, so technically I’m the most mature of all of us, you know?”

She stops in the street, fiddling with the long, bell-like ends to her sleeves.

Nana has to turn back and lean in slightly to hear, “…I miss them. I really want to see them again. My whole family. I wanna go home.”

“Hey, hey.” He hesitates, but puts a hand on Mayu’s shoulder. “I know how you feel. I, I miss my family too. But we’ll get you back to yours, and then I’ll get back to mine, and we’ll all live happily ever after, right?”

Mayu sniffs hard, peering up at him through her fringe. “…You’re sure?”

He feels his reassuring smile wobble slightly. “Uh. Yes? It’s been six months since I’ve last seen my family, but you know, I’m. I’m getting closer every day!”

The firbolg does not look reassured.

“Definitely going to be back with them before I turn fourteen.” Nana insists. “Definitely. One hundred percent.”

She somehow manages to look even more un-assured, if such a thing were possible.

Nana would be insulted if he couldn’t also hear the things that are currently coming out of his mouth.

As if to add insult to injury, his stomach takes the opportunity to loudly remind him that he hasn’t had anything to eat since the slice of flatbread he’d managed to scrounge up for breakfast yesterday, before he found a barrel with a firbolg inside it and all the port’s guards plus a much stronger assassin in a blank mask had shown up to try and murder him for it.

He takes a moment to mourn the loss of gainful employment. Sure, dock work wasn’t easy or pretty, but the feeling of having hard-won coppers in his pocket at the end of the day…he’ll miss it dearly.

“You’re hungry!” Mayu exclaims, startling him out of his reverie. “Wh-why didn’t you say earlier?!”

Nana holds up his hands, retreating a few steps. “I, I wasn’t hungry then? And it’s fine, really Ketsugi-san. I’ve…not much coin after paying off the stable, but I can keep going for a while yet. Just…please ignore any noises? They’ll stop after a day or so, I promise.”

For some reason, that makes her ears almost flatten against her head, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

“Right.” Mayu says, back straightening, head turning as though on a swivel. “Right, um.”

The firbolg pats herself down, as though her outfit (long top with oversized bell sleeves, thick fabric belt, leggings, leg warmers, and sandals) will somehow produce pockets from somewhere. The furrow in her brow deepens.

She clasps her hands together and mutters, not quite under her breath, “-ami guide my hands and take from the overabundant and undeserving, from the cruel and covetous, that I may provide—”

Despite leaving the docks behind them a full day ago, Nana’s nose picks up an odd, salty scent.

When Mayu lifts her head, her eyes have an odd, almost orange gleam to them.

“That one,” She says, absentmindedly, as she starts to make a beeline through the crowd.

Nana blinks for a moment, staring after her.

“H-hey, wait!” He calls as she marches towards a random man at a fruit stall.

A corner of his mind that he’s still struggling to fully shut off notes that this man has inconvenient, well-tailored clothing and soft, unblemished hands. Add to his lack of muscle mass, and there’s no way this person would be any kind of real threat in a fight.

And Mayu is brazenly reaching for the coin pouch tied to his belt.

“Whoa, hey!” Nana leaps forward, grabbing at the firbolg’s wrist. “The hell are you doing?!”

She’s likely not had as much practice sneakily grabbing things or slipping away as him, because Mayu immediately begins jerking and flailing to twist out of his grip.

One of her elbows goes flying and slams into the foppish man’s back.

With an indignant squawk, the man tumbles forward into the stall, crushing several crates of produce under him.

The pair of them share a glance.

Then they’re both turning on their heels and sprinting down the street as fast as their legs will take them, leaving the man and the stall owner shouting in their wake.

“I—thought—y’r—a paladin.” Nana accuses as they run.

“I am!” Mayu retorts, not even sounding out of breath as they slow their pace. Nana almost wants to hate her for that. “And that guy was chosen as someone I could take money from to buy ingredients to feed you!”

“Chose-?! What, what kind of god says stealing is okay?!” He cries.

“Pirate gods.” Mayu replies.

Nana has to take a moment to stare at her, mouth agape.

“Pi-pirate—” He sputters, “What—how—? You’re a pirate?”

Her face falls as she admits, “Not yet.” Like piracy is something that normal and decent people should aspire to.

Her ears flick back and Mayu clenches a fist. “But I will be someday! I’m going to follow the teachings of the StrawHats and sail the seas as one of the greatest pirate chefs ever, just you watch!”

He is torn between bursting into hysterical laughter and tearing his hair out.

Somehow he’s saved from doing both when a blur of grey and bright blue dashes between their legs.

“Outta the way, comin’ through!”

As he stares in confusion, the shape resolves itself into some kind of four-legged monster? He’d almost call it a cat, but the shape of the body and tail is wrong, and most cats he knows don’t have blue fire sprouting from their ears.

They don’t run on two legs clutching a small sack to their chests, either.

“GET BACK HERE GRIM, YOU LITTLE GREMLIN!!”

The howl comes from a horned person, charging after the monster with all the speed they can muster.

They look slightly too delicate to be a full orc, Nana’s mind notes as they barrel past, but their skin is too vivid a bruise pink to be many generations down the line. A tiefling, perhaps?

But then, where’s their tail—?

“TAKE THIS, FGNAH!!”

Nana can’t see what the monster does, but he knows that one moment the maybe-tiefling is dashing down the bustling street after their prey, the next they’re engulfed in a black liquid with a sharp yelp, tripping over their own feet and falling prone to the ground.

Even from here it smells noxious, and as he watches the odd liquid rapidly hardens where it’s covered the person’s limbs, reducing their wild flailing to furious twitches.

“Ha-HA!” The monster crows. “Yer still a hundred years too early t’be gettin’ one over on the Great Grim-Sama, y’know! See ya, minion~!”

It scampers off while the person screams, “SEE IF I GET YOU ANY NICE TUNA EVER AGAIN! GRIM! GET BACK HERE YOU FILTHY EXCUSE FOR A TANUKI!! GRIM!!!”

They seem like they’re well on their way to a full meltdown in public.

Nana winces in secondhand embarrassment.

That seemed…unfortunate. He’s almost curious about what’s going on there, but it doesn’t involve him. Nope. Does not involve him in the slightest.

And even if the maybe-tiefling is technically in trouble, what could he do? Go up and ask if he can help? No thank you. Last time he did that he lost a perfectly good job and got stuck with a pirate obsessed weirdo of a paladin. No, no. He’s learned his lesson. Look out for number one. It’s why he’s going to walk away any second now. He has to be his top priority, no matter what trouble others are in. It’s not worth—

“Hey, uh.” His treacherous mouth says. “Do you need some help getting out of that?”

—goddammit.

The tiefling(?) glares at him and grits out, “Don’t. That little idiot hit me with a tanglefoot bag, it’ll take ages to get this stuff off. If you really want to be helpful, go after that bag he stole, and don’t let the little shit eat anything in it.”

He blinks at the vehemence of their tone.

“Tiefling-san?” Mayu places a hand on his shoulder, stepping slightly between him and the trapped probably-tiefling. “My human friend wants to help and I’ll aid him, but we will require payment for this. My friend needs food, he’s hungry.”

“Wh—” He protests. “It, it hasn’t even been two days, it’s not that bad! Don’t treat this like I can’t look out for myself, I’m thirteen!”

Mayu stares at him, her ears flattening again.

“Th-thirteen?!” She splutters. “That’s—that’s so young for humans, you’re, you’re a baby! Where are your parents?!”

“No! It’s not! It is very much not!” He can feel his voice reaching screech levels no matter how much he doesn’t want it to. “Thirteen means teen! I am a teenager! Practically an adult!! Older than twelve at least!!!”

“No you’re—”

“ENOUGH!” The most-likely-tiefling roars.

The two of them (along with what few passersby weren’t already gawping at their little group) stop and stare.

“Get that damn tanuki,” The tiefling orders, eyes flashing murderously, “And I’ll pay you whatever you want.”

It’s really not hard to track the monster.

It’s caused a lot of havoc throughout what seems to be the business district, diverging very briefly back through the market (where the fruit stall owner is pocketing a very large bag of coin with an air of satisfaction), eventually wending its way to a very, very large tree in the middle of a square.

It’s not the tallest tree Nana’s ever seen, but it easily makes it into the top fifteen. Which, given that the fourteen above it in rank had all been in forests far from civilization, or enhanced by magic to serve as dwellings to various communities, actually speaks a lot to how huge this thing is. He can see where some of the middle branches have been pruned back from growing into the top floors and roofs of nearby buildings

Through the leaves, there are glints of the bright blue fire sprouting from the ears of the monster up in the highest branches.

“Hm…” Mayu is frowning heavily. “I’m…not good at climbing trees. The worst in my village, in fact.”

Nana rolls his shoulders and shakes out his arms and legs. “Well, that’s funny. Because back home, I was one of the best. You sort have to be, if you want to be acknowledged as an adult or a rogue.”

Despite his boast, he has a bit of trouble finding a good handhold at first. But once he finds a sturdy knot in the bark halfway around the tree, he’s proud to say that not only can he scale to the branches very quickly, but also near silently.

There a few moments when a twig snaps under his weight and he freezes, waiting for any sign that the monster has heard him.

But it remains oblivious, singing to itself between bites of an obviously pilfered fish.

As he gets closer, the words resolve into, “Mackerel, mackerel, tasty, tasty mackerel, goes so well with, tasty, tasty rocks~!”

Nana has managed to climb undetected to a branch above the one it’s sitting on when the monster shoves the tail of the fish into its mouth, chewing and swallowing with a satisfied sigh.

“Fgnah…that hits the spot!” It purrs to itself. “And now for dessert…”

It begins to root around in its brown burlap sack until it pulls out an odd looking stone.

It’s a dark grey and nearly smooth, with glasslike streaks of blue-white and greenish yellow running through it. Maybe it’s because of the dappled light of the tree, but Nana could almost swear that it pulses every so often.

“Down the hatch!” The monster cheers, head tilted back and toothy maw open wide.

What Nana means to do is quickly and cleanly snatch the stone from midair, maybe take advantage of the monster’s confusion to grab the bag as well.

What he actually does is try to grab the rock and fail miserably, his fumbling fingers sending it flying out of the tree.

“Huh—? My dessert!!” The monster cries. “Why you little thi—?!”

BOOM!

The explosion of light and sound rock the tree, as if a thunderstorm decided to materialize around its base.

Nana instinctively curls into the branch he’s hanging from, squeezes his eyes shut and braces his body against his temporary shield.

When he blinks away the stinging afterimages, the square is in disarray. Several people are on the ground, some hiding, others knocked down. Those who are further away looking around for the source of the commotion, but those who were closest to the tree are acting…weird. Whipping their heads back and forth like they’re trying to spot something, or shouting near-incomprehensibly.

At the base of the tree, Mayu has her fists pressed to her eyes and her head is tilting from side to side, long ears twitching sporadically. She might be making noise, but Nana can’t hear from this far up.

The monster is clinging to its branch, expression dazed. “Wha’s goin’ on…why’s it all gone dark…?”

Huh.

Nana unfurls himself slightly, and claps as loudly as he can.

Neither the monster nor Mayu respond. The monster doesn’t even look up at the movement, just facing towards where Nana was before…he guesses the stone did that? Unleashed all that light and noise?

No wonder the tiefling didn’t want the monster eating it. He’d hate to imagine what something like that could do in someone’s stomach.

As carefully as he can, he hangs upside down from his branch and gently eases the bag out from it’s precarious position pinned between the monster’s paw and the branch. It gets a little ripped from where one of the monster’s claws got snagged in it, but he hoists himself upright with his target clutched in one hand.

Peering through the hole he’s made, he can make out four or five more of those weird, pulsing, noisemaking rocks, two weird liquid-filled packet, and what might be coils of spiked steel wire?

He lets out a low whistle. Still, he’s got the bag, now to get ou—

“FGNAH!!” The monster roars, “GIMME BACK MY SNACKS, YOU LITTLE THIEF!!”

A gout of bright blue flame shoots between Nana’s legs, almost crisping his boots before he yanks them up and out of the way.

The long end of his gilet is not so lucky.

“Shit!” He tries beating out the fire before it can spread any further, but forgets that the skin of his hands is just as burnable as cloth. “Ow, FUCK!”

“HAND ‘EM OVER!!” The monster cries as it leaps for the bag in Nana’s other hand.

He lets himself go limp and tumble backwards and out of reach, stashing the bag in one of his inside pockets as he falls.

Nana hisses as rough bark catches on his burnt hand, but keeps folding and twisting and swinging down through the branches, until he has a clear view of where Mayu looks like she’s finally shaking off whatever the rock did to her.

It’s only her wordless yelp of warning that has Nana flipping off the branch he just landed on, as a burst of that blue fire engulfs it.

“GIVE ‘EM BACK, YA LITTLE BRAT!!” The monster howls, claws digging into the tree’s trunk.

“WE ARE IN A TREE,” He yells back as he dangles from a dangerously thin bough. “WHY WOULD YOU SET IT ON FIRE?!”

The monster looks momentarily confused. It glances upwards, at where some of its fire has almost eaten through the higher branches.

“Uh oh.”

Words cannot do justice to the sheer level of “I-wish-you-were-close-enough-to-throttle” that manifests within Nana’s soul at that proclamation.

Below him, he can just barely pick up on Mayu muttering something unintelligble, hands clasped together and head bent.

That salty scent from before, like he’s leaning over the edge of the docks and staring at the swelling of the sea below, that returns in full force. It’s pervasive to the point where the monster begins sniffing the air, twisting around to look with a hopeful peep of “Mackrel?”

“‘O Merry, give me a sea to sail together on, a sea of adventure, of freedom,” Mayu’s voice raises, reverberating oddly as though set against crashing waves and the screech of gulls. “Show us the might of the Grand Line! CREATE WATER!”

Nana had never considered what rain might look like if it fell all at once rather than in sensible, dispersed droplets.

And, he realizes as he watches the shadow of what could only be called a tidal wave loom over the top of the tree before it descends in a clamoring rush of liquid, he could have gone quite happily through the rest of his life never knowing.

The thin bough he’s dangling from does not keep him from taking the brunt of the deluge in the face.

As he hacks and coughs and tries to snort out where some water has gone up his nose, he hears Mayu call out, “Oh! Oh, sh—sugar, human-san, I’m so sorry! Are you alright? I just, I thought it was best to take care of the fire before anything fell on you!”

She’s not even wet. The water somehow has the audacity to land in a perfect circle around her, not even a drop on her weird orange leg warmers.

“Maybe wait until we get out of the tree next time?!” He yells back, not quite able to keep the hysterical edge out of his voice. “And I told you, don’t ca—!”

For the second time that day, he’s interrupted by a small grey blur streaking past him.

This time, the monster’s not so much running as falling, eyes shut and blue ear flames spluttering weakly.

He doesn’t even think.

Nana swings his legs up to propel himself off his precarious handhold like a diver, arms outstretched to snatch the monster’s limp, sodden body out of midair and crush it to his chest.

His legs snap out in a split and just manage to snag onto two branches of varying heights before he falls the remaining fifteen feet out of the tree.

He stifles a groan at the sudden strain.

Below him, Mayu lets out a little gasp. She gives a small burst of applause.

“Th-thanks,” Nana grunts out. “But, um, can you get a ladder or something? I don’t know how long I can hold—”

There is an ominous creak.

Nana closes his eyes and exhales out of his nose. It’s fine. It’s fine! So long as he doesn’t look at it, the lower branch he’s wedged his foot onto isn’t breaking, and he’s not gradually losing his foothold on the high brancher either! Just keep his eyes closed, and he can have all the time in the world to plan how to manage a crash land—

Crack!

Nana can’t help the involuntary scream that tears from his throat even as he plummets—!

Huh.

Usually hitting the ground and rebreaking his bones feels more…impactful than this?

“Nana, are you okay?!” Comes Mayu’s frantic voice. “I, you didn’t hit your head or something? Oh Luffy, I didn’t give you whiplash, did I?!”

He opens his eyes to see Mayu less than a foot away from his face. Her arms are crossed over her chest for some reason, hands clenched into fists by her shoulders. He’s somehow still dangling above the ground.

He cranes his head to look.

There are a pair of disembodied arms holding onto his legs.

A pair of disembodied arm that are growing out of and being clutched onto by more disembodied arms which have somehow sprouted from the tree trunk.

The scream Nana lets out at this sight is very much voluntary.

Mayu flinches, hands coming out of that weird crossed formation and reaching for him.

The disembodied arms vanish.

He topples into the firbolg behind him, driving them both into the dirt-turned-mud below.

“Let me guess,” He huffs when his body finally decides to let him make sounds other than pained groans. “More of your pirate gods?”

“Be nice to Robin!” Mayu whines as she rolls him off her and sits up. “I wasn’t sure if she’d let me call on her power to save you, y’know. She only intervenes when necessary.”

“You say necessary,” Nana says as he props himself up against the roots of the damned tree. “I’m hearing picky. Why do pirate gods even need, need detachable limbs in the first place?!”

Mayu puffs up again, “First of all, Robin has the ability to grow parts of her body from any visible surface, not detach them from herself, that’s Buggy’s power. Second—”

“This is the worst rescue ever, fgnah.” The monster grumbles in Nana’s lap. “Imma sue you both for interrupting my nice, peaceful lunch, y’know. This is endangerment of the Great Wizard Grim—”

“—Who is going to be answering to Crewel for stealing that modified trapping kit.” A familiar voice interrupts.

The three of them look up.

The tiefling stands over them, unpleasant, cracking stains on their clothes. Their glare pins the monster named Grim in place. “And you’ve clearly been spending too much time with Azul if you’re using language like that without any clue what it means. Want me to sell you back to him as a dishcloth? At least then you won’t be causing me or the guild any more trouble.”

“Yuu~!” Grim the monster whines, almost squirming out of Nana’s grip. “C’mon henchman, you wouldn’t really do that to me, wouldja?!”

Yuu the tiefling considers him before tilting their head. “You got me there. I guess I wouldn’t.”

Grim’s eyes begin to sparkle and his ear flames regain some of their spark. “Yuu—!”

The tiefling seizes him by the scruff of his neck. “Not if it meant I’d miss the fun of punishing you myself.”

“Fgnah! Abuse! This is abuse I tell ya!” The monster protests, wriggling in the tiefling’s grip. “I shoulda gone into retirement with Ace! He wouldn’t treat me like this! He’d—!”

“The Rose Kingdom historic monument.” Yuu says, abruptly.

The monster suddenly goes silent, eyes darting around. It almost looks sheepish.

The tiefling sighs. “Well, now that that’s dealt with, did either of you manage to save any of the wire or other tanglefoot bags before this gremlin ate them? I know the thunderstones are probably a lost cause—”

“Thunderstone?” Nana pipes up before he can help himself. “Is that what those pulsing rocks are called?”

The tiefling stops short, and tilts their head at him. The flashes of their eyes that he can see through their overgrown bangs are piercingly intense.

“Yes.” They says slowly. “That’s what those are. Don’t tell me you managed to get one of them?”

Nana reaches into his inside pocket and gingerly withdraws the bag he stashed there. He makes sure to keep it well out of Grim’s reach when he hands it over.

“One didn’t make it,” He admits, rubbing the back of his head. “It fell when I tried to grab it, and I think it might’ve hurt Mayu? I’m sorry about that, by the way, I wouldn’t have made it out of the tree without you.”

She shrugs. “It was an accident, the StrawHats have loads of them. But the important thing is Nana-san got the bag and he didn’t let monster-san eat any more of the rocks. Right, tiefling-san?”

Yuu looks up from the contents of the bag, eyes flickering from Mayu to Nana and back again.

The corner of their mouth curls into a wry smirk.

“I believe that was the deal we made.” They tie the bag with the stones to their belt and untie another.

Yuu counts out an indeterminate amount of coin into their palm, splits it, and push half into each of their hands.

“Hopefully this will get you some dinner and medical attention.” They say. “Now, the both of you, go home to your parents, or whoever it is who’s meant to be looking after you. You’re both too young to be wandering around unsupervised like this.”

Nana opens his mouth automatically to protest, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Mayu is doing the same.

“If you’re both still on the adventuring career path when you’re older, come see me at the Night Raven Guild.” The tiefling interrupts. “Ask for Yuu at the mission desk, and Grim and I might have some work for you. When you’re older.”

And with that, Yuu the tiefling turns on their heel and strides off, leaving the two of them to examine the reward for their mission.

Nana feels his eyes bulge out of his head.

These—these are gold coins. Actual, genuine gold, from the look of it. This can get him a bunk at any inn from here to the Hidden Continent, hell, may even be worth something to some of the denizens of the Feywilds.

From the wide-eyed look Mayu’s giving him, she’s received the same.

They both turn to stare after the tiefling arguing with the monster bundled under one arm, stomping back to what looks like a partially burning guildhall. It has an emblem of a crow over crossed keys above the door.

“Well. They were generous.” Is all Nana can offer.

“They were.” Mayu agrees. Then, “…We did a good job together, didn’t we? I mean what you did, with all the flipping and things…”

“It’s called acrobatics.” Nana retorts without heat. “But yeah, your. God, thing. It was handy. I’m not saying I’m a convert, but—”

“We made a good team?” Mayu suggests. “After all, not everyone has to think or do the same things to get along. It’s better if they don’t. Makes for a stronger crew.”

“I guess so. Yeah.” He agrees.

They slowly get to their feet.

“You know,” Mayu starts, as they wander back towards the market together. “Tiefling-san never said how much older we had to be before we went and asked them for another job. Just ‘older’.”

Nana considers this as he carefully flexes his burnt hand. Even if other jobs didn’t pay quite as well as this one, the idea of at least having a semi-steady flow of income… it’s an appealing one.

“I think,” He announces. “I feel much older and wiser than I did half an hour ago. How about you, Mayu-san?”

She beams back at him. “I feel positively ancient, Nana-san. What do you say we visit the Night Raven Guild as a two person adventuring team?”

Nana’s stomach grumbles again.

“…We’ll get you some food first.”

#my ocs #my writing #0307 #nanbaka nana #nana nanbaka #nana #ketsugi mayu #but i like one piece #twst yuu #villainous paranoiac yuu #this is the most self indulgent thing I will ever write #and i’m not sorry #dnd #I actually rolled dice for this

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serendipityseulgi · 4 years

Text

8 Ways of Love;

— park seonghwa

according to the ancient greeks, there are eight different types of love. here is:

･*:༅｡ the one known as pragma, the enduring love.

aka, the kind of love that matures and develops over a long period of time, and somewhat rare to find.

8 ways of love series; version i

A love story that shows the progression of yours and seongwha’s relationship from the moment you two become friends, to lovers, to exes, and everything else in between.

love catalyst: the subconscious.

At the age of six years old you declare Park Seonghwa to be your boyfriend, solidifying your “relationship” with a hug.

“Eww, y/n, you have cooties!” your best friend barks, pushing you off him.

“Wha- hey no I don’t!” you squeak.

“Yes you do because Mingi told all the boys not to touch the girls because they have a disease and it’s going to eat our bodies alive!” he practically screeches getting up from the sandbox about to walk away from you.

“Seonghwaaa he’s lying!” you whine out and he huffs turning around to face you.

“Well all the other boys are listening to him so he has to be right.”

“Well I touched you yesterday when we were playing tag and you’re fine!” you defend. “And if all girls have cooties then how come your mommy still hugs and kisses you goodbye in the morning? Wouldn’t you be dead now?”

Even at the age of 6 you were the biggest smartass Seonghwa knew.

After a moment of deliberation, he sighs. “Okay fine, you’re right.” your friend huffs.

“So are you gonna back so we can play again?” you ask, arms crossed over your little body.

Seonghwa nods before grabbing onto your hand to drag you back into the sandbox.

The two of you return to making your sandcastle and it’s only a mere two minutes later does your friend speak up.“Am I actually your boyfriend now?” he asks suddenly and you whip your head towards him.

“Well I hugged you so yeah.” you roll your eyes at him and his soft little laugh makes your tiny heart jump.

Within the next week you two forget you’re “boyfriend-and-girlfriend” and go back to being the best friends you’ve always been, playing in the sandbox after school, watching cartoons at your house, and never missing a single dinner together while your parents listen to the two of you talk your little heads off.

For the record, there wasn’t much of a difference in your so-called relationship and your friendship in the first place when you were just six years old.

At thirteen years old, your best friend confesses he likes you.

“Okay I know this is weird because, I should see you as like, a sister or something, I don’t know!” Seonghwa rants, pacing back and forth in your bedroom as you watch him frantically explain the way he feels about you.

“You know what I mean though? You’re like, practically family to me! Right? Right...” you figure he’s talking more to himself than to you as he asks himself questions that he’s quick to answer to. “Like you’re probably gonna think I’m weird or something, but you are my best friend and I don’t want it to be weird-”

“Seonghwa for the love of god can you just get to your point.” you interrupt impatiently.

“I like you okay?” he says quietly, avoiding all eye contact with you.

His heart is beating so fast he feels like it’s actually going to rip right through his chest. He’s never been nervous around you ever. You’re his best friend, and you have been since you were 5 years old, and he doesn’t know why he suddenly feels like you’re the only girl he wants in his life.

When he hears you laughing at him his heart drops to his stomach and he braces himself for the upcoming rejection.

“Can you come sit next to me.” you ask, gesturing to the empty spot on your bed.

Seonghwa complies, yet his anxiety is rising by the second. He has never been so nervous in all the thirteen years he’s been alive. He almost wants to vomit as his stomach churns at the thought of you telling him you didn’t feel the same way.

“You’re rejecting me aren’t you...” he sighs, plopping down onto the spot next to you.

You shake your head with a smile. “No idiot, I like you too. Obviously.” you roll your eyes at him.

“Wait, what? Seriously??” he almost goes into shock. “Are you joking?”

“I mean, I thought it was pretty obvious.” you shrug. “I was throwing subtle signs at you for the longest time.”

“Like what?!”

“Like the time I kept pestering you to take me to the Valentine’s Day dance, and when I made you hold my hand during that scary movie when you know I never get scared of horror films. Oh, and the time you kept badgering me about why I rejected Hongjoong for no good reason. I kept telling you that you were the only guy I needed in my life and you were too oblivious to realize I didn’t mean it in the friend way anymore.” you chuckle.

“Oh... Oh,” Seonghwa realizes. “I really am oblivious then.”

“It’s okay, I already knew you liked me back anyways.” you smirk at him, grabbing your remote off the bedside table.

You flip the TV on as you feel Seonghwa’s heavy gaze on you. “So does this mean you’re my girlfriend?” he asks you and you pause.

“I mean technically we never broke up when we were six so you’re basically just re-asking me out.” you tease, pulling the blankets on both your bodies as you settle on a show to watch.

“Oh god, you still remember that?”

Of course you do.

“Obviously, how could I forget you screaming to the entire park that I had cooties.”

He laughs at that and you can’t help but smile widely hearing him. You both lay comfortably next to one another, watching intently at the show in front of you, yet both your minds were racing at the fact that officially, you could say you were boyfriend and girlfriend.

“So when did you start liking me?” he asks you.

“Honestly, I think I always did.” you answer truthfully. “But, like actually realizing my feelings for you?” you pause for a moment to think. “I think it was when you got really sick that one time and your parents were away for a business trip, and my mom made me drop off soup to your house. And I was only supposed to drop off the soup but I took care of you because even when you were all snotty and gross and barely awake to hang out with me, I kinda just realized I’d rather spend my time with you doing that than anywhere else.”

His eyes soften at you. “Aww.”

“Buuut then before that, there was also that time that Ashley told you she liked you and I got super jealous and I was actually going to shove her into a brick wall, so ...I kinda just figured...” you add.

“Way to ruin a sappy moment, moron.” Seonghwa playfully shoves you and you laugh.

You cuddle up next to him returning your attention back to the show in front of you. Only a few minutes pass before Seonghwa speaks up again, and his question catches you off guard.

“What if we break up... like eventually?”

You think about it for a second. “Then we go back to being best friends.”

“That easy?”

“That easy.” you nod.

“For the record though, I don’t ever want there to be a time where I don’t like you. I hope there isn’t.” he says.

“I hope there isn’t either.” you assure, and just like that, you two go back to watching tv.

You’ve always had a soft spot for Seonghwa so it never came as a surprise to you, or anybody for that matter when you figured out you had a little crush on your best friend.

In a hypothetical situation, if somewhere along the way your feelings ever started to fade, you still couldn’t picture a life where he wasn’t right beside you no matter what. He was your person, and he has been since you two were five. There was nobody in this world that could replace the bond you had with him.

Even at the age of thirteen, you knew you wanted Seonghwa to be there for the rest of your life.

At the age of fourteen and a half, you and Seonghwa have your first ever fight where he conveniently declares that he loves you for the first time.

seonghwa <3; received 4:24 pm

y/n can u not be like this and talk to me :(

plsssssss

i’m sorry

can u let me come over and talk to u

Your phone continues to buzz as you stare at it beside you, rolling your eyes at his insistent messaging.

You try your best to ignore it but the continuous beeping irritates you to no end.

you; delivered 4:26 pm

i’m mad at u.

seonghwa <3; received 4:26 pm

you; delivered 4:27 pm

can u like do smth with ur life instead of bothering me

seonghwa <3; received 4:27 pm

ouch.

Okay, you admit. That one was a low blow and for a second you almost feel bad until you’re reminded of the fact that you were still royally pissed at him.

you; delivered 4:28 pm

ur actually annoying

seonghwa <3; received 4:28 pm

ya ik i am

but yk what i’m not

someone who is going to do nothing about their gf being mad at them

so open ur window bc im climbing up so i can apologize

stop being a meanie and let me say sorry

Despite how mad you still are, your heart can’t help but skip a beat reading his messages. No matter how hard you wanted to stay angry at him and tell him to go away, you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him even if you tried. Seonghwa was charming like that, always managing to sweet talk you in every way.

You crack open your window and see his tuft of black hair climbing up your ladder. As he hops into your bedroom you fold your arms across your chest, not daring to say a word to him until he speaks first.

“Look, I’m sorry for being an ass earlier.” Seonghwa apologizes, and all you do is look at him. He sighs before continuing. “I was just having a bad day and took it out on you and I shouldn’t have blown up on you during class. I get it. Dick move.”

“But then you had to go and talk to Ashley about it?” you added. “That was like the worst part of it! Do you trust her more than me or something?”

“What? No! Of course not!” he panics.

“You, and everyone else and their mother knows she’s like obsessed with you!” you shout in frustration. “She’s liked you for so long, do you know how stupid you made me look running off to her knowing how she feels about you?!”

“That wasn’t my intention-”

“Were you trying to make me mad?”

“No, y/n.”

“Did you do it to make me jealous?”

“No!”

“So why Seonghwa, did you have to go and vent to her after you yelled at me in front of everyone when all I did was try to help?”

“I don’t know, okay!”

“I just don’t understand why me of all people you had to take it out on. When all i’ve literally done for you for like the last ten freaking years of us being friends was listen to you when you had a bad day or try to cheer you up when you were down! Never once when I was feeling crappy did I take that out on you. Never.” you explain with a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry.” he doesn’t know what else to say because he knows he’s in the wrong.

“Do you like her or something?” your voice is quiet and the hurt is evident. “Cause if you do just tell me.”

Seonghwa is quick to shut you down as he pulls you into his arms.

“No, no, no. Y/n, I don’t like her. I don’t. Please believe me.” he begs. “Look, I don’t know why I went to her when I should’ve gone to you. I couldn’t even begin to explain what was going through my head at that point because I don’t know. But I love you, okay? I would never, ever like Ashley.”

Your eyes widen and you pull away from him. “W-what did you just say?”

“I... um...” Seonghwa starts to fumble over his words because he didn’t exactly intend to tell you, but it sort of just came out and now he’s starting to panic.

“Do you mean it?” you ask.

He just nods, a little embarrassed at his sudden declaration.

“I love you too.” you say softly, and he relaxes.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

"I’m really sorry, y/n.” he pulls you close to him, burying his face into your hair as he hugs you tightly.

“I’m sorry too.” you murmur against him.

“I hate fighting with you.” he mumbles.

“Me too.”

“I promise I’ll never take my anger out on you again. And I’ll never talk to Ashley again. And I’ll literally do whatever you want me to if it means you won’t stay mad at me because I don’t like it when you’re mad at me, and I hate making you sad.” he rambles and you let out a small chuckle.

“Just come lay down and watch Friends with me.”

“Okay.”

And you ultimately forget that you’re mad at Seonghwa because you decide that you can’t really stay mad at him after he tells you that he loves you. And although all is forgiven, he still decides to grovel for the next week as a reassurance that he really meant his apology.

So at fourteen years old, you have your first, and last fight with him.

At the age of sixteen, you celebrate your three year anniversary with Seonghwa, and decide you were ready to lose your virginity to him.

“Okay I know you said that the expensive dinner date was enough of a present for you, but you know me and always overdoing it....” he says behind you as you hear the crinkling of a bag behind you.

“Seonghwa...”

“Trust me, babe. You’re gonna love it.” he assures as he walks over to you.

Your eyes instantly fall onto the small red velvet box in his hands and your mouth falls open.

“This was expensive wasn’t it?” you pry and he shrugs.

“Maybe, but I was saving up for it for a while now.” he responds, sitting next to you as he hands you the box.

“I always feel bad every time you spend money on me.” you sigh as your fingers smooth over the velvet.

“I know but it was worth it, trust me. Open it.” Seonghwa urges.

You pull apart the bow and lift up the lid, your eyes widening in awe at the shiny ring placed inside. You lift it out gently noticing the small engraving on the inner part of the band, with both your initials and a small ‘i love you 4ever’ written underneath.

“Oh my god,” you utter. “I love it.” you place the ring on your finger.

“Good because I have a matching one too.” your boyfriend grins at you as he pulls out another box lined with a silver band with that very same engraving.

You pull him in for a hug as he wraps his arms around you instinctively and all you can feel right now is an overload of gratitude for him.

“I actually love you so much.” you say, pulling his face towards you to press soft kisses all over his face.

“Yeah, I know I’m the best,” Seongwha chuckles. “But I love you too baby.”

Your lips mould together perfectly, the kiss slow and soft at first. His hands wrap around your waist and your mouth moves gently against his. But soon enough you’re clinging to him and his body is pressed against yours, the kiss growing more needy and intense.

You knew when things started to get heavy he would stop the both of you from going further, never wanting to push you to discomfort. The furthest you had gone with one another was only third base, but it never went further than that and Seonghwa always left that decision up to you if you wanted to take it there.

You figure if you don’t speak up now, he was going to cut this short, so it’s only then at this very moment do you decide you wanted him to be your first.

“Do you want to have sex?” you blurt out suddenly and you swear you’ve never seen your boyfriend’s eyes go so wide before.

He opens his mouth to speak but he can’t seem to find the right words to say. “I- um, wait, are you being for real?” he stutters. “I mean, I do want to, but, are you sure you want to?” he asks, still in disbelief from your question.

“Shit, sorry I know that was really sudden to ask, but I do want to.” you assure. “But only if you want to.”

“Of course I want to.” his eyes soften, and his hand finds yours in an instant delivering a comforting squeeze.

“Okay so come here and kiss me again please.” you say quietly.

And just like that, Seongwha’s soft lips land on yours once more. Without breaking apart he gently guides you to the head of his bed, laying you down underneath him as your bodies press up against each other.

You swear you can kiss Seongwha for hours and never grow tired of the feeling. You get drunk off his kisses, unable to think of anything else but him. It’s dizzying really, but you love it. You find that off all the things you love about him its his lips, and how impossibly soft they are and how familiar they feel against your own. How much comfort it would bring you, and how all you had to when you had a bad day was just kiss your boyfriend for however long he let you.

It felt like home.

His lips trailed lower to your neck, littering soft pecks across your skin. Quiet noises escape your lips and Seongwha can’t help but grind against your lower half. His hands travel across your body and the ache between your legs grows by the second, and the only thing you can think of is how much you love him, and need him.

Your mind kind of blurs because the next second you find yourself both naked and he’s fiddling in his drawer to find what you assumed to be a condom. He notices your curious stare as he opens his mouth to speak. “M-my dad told me to keep these in here,” Seongwha stutters. “He said to be prepared in case the time comes, and well, here’s the time I guess.” he laughs lightheartedly and the very sound makes your heart swell.

“Nice call on Papa Park I guess,” you joke and Seongwha chuckles.

He climbs over you and delivers another peck to your swollen lips. “Okay, no more mention of my dad please when I’m about to put my penis in you.”

“Sorry, sorry.” you chuckle nervously as your boyfriend pulls you in for another kiss.

"Okay, if it hurts tell me to stop and I will, alright?” his eyes stare deeply into your own.

You nod at him with a small smile, admiring what little of his face you could see in the darkness of his room. “I will, don’t worry.”

“Okay.” he sighs, positioning himself in front of you. “I love you.” he whispers against your lips.

“I love you more, baby.” you say to him before you feel him push himself inside you. You gasp at the feeling and he stills in his spot to let you adjust.

And once you signal that it’s okay for him to move, he does at a slow pace, and you gasp at the intense pleasure. Even though the pain has subsided his thrusts are still slow and controlled, and you don’t know if it’s because he’s afraid to hurt you, or if he just wants to revel in the feeling of you around him. Either way your heart fills with love for this one boy.

“I love you so much, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know that?” he whispers in your ear and your eyes shut at his words and the newfound feeling you would grow to love. “and thank you for trusting me right now...” his breathing grows heavy. “because I would do anything for you, and I just want you to know that, okay?”

You almost feel like you could cry because above all the pleasure that you’re experiencing right now, his words feel different, more intimate, and all the more meaningful to you.

And you believe every word he says because you know he truly means it.

“I would do anything for you too.” you repeat his words back to him and he buries his face into your neck as he continues to thrust into you.

So at sixteen years old, you have your first time with the love of your life. And you tell yourself that no matter what happens between the both of you, you were never going to regret giving that part of yourself to him.

At the age of eighteen years old, you do the unthinkable.

You decide after a long and heavy conversation, you two were going to break up. You were both set to leave town to pursue your studies at your dream schools, and you felt that parting ways at this point was the better option.

While you two could figure out a way to make things work while half way across the world from each other, you had to take into account all the factors that would drive you two apart. The time difference, the long distance, the fact that you were inevitably going to meet new people, and that you simply did not want to hold each other back from experiencing a life without one another.

Because all you’ve known almost your entire life was being with Seonghwa, and him with you. You knew it was only fair to give each other the chance to explore something new, and now was that time.

It wasn’t an easy decision by any means, and although it was an amicable split, you’ve never felt the pain of a broken heart before. It hurt really bad.

Your friends and family decide to throw you both one last goodbye party, wanting to celebrate this special milestone with you. And of course there was no way you and Seonghwa could pass up the last good night you two would have together as a couple.

The party was fun at first. The dancing, the singing, the laughing, and the endless exchange of pictures as you guys shared the last few memories you would have as high school graduates.

But as the night started to creep in, you both realized that in less than 24 hours, you two would no longer be attached to one another like you had been for the last thirteen years. And after five years as a couple, you still couldn’t believe that your relationship would come to an end, just like that.

You hear the faint music in the background of your house, as you and Seonghwa sit in your backyard, gazing up at the stars.

“This fucking sucks.” Seonghwa sighs, resting his head on your shoulder as you lean your head on top of his.

“I know.” your throat burns, suppressing the urge to cry.

“I just didn’t expect this day to come. I never thought we would actually break up with each other.” he admits, and you nod your head in agreement.

You grab onto his hand rubbing comforting circles onto his skin, and you feel Seonghwa’s body start to shake next to you. You don’t want to look at him because you know if you see him cry, you’ll cry too.

You close your eyes trying to control your heavy breathing and the quivering of your lips. Your eyes are watering but you refuse to let your tears slip, and your heart hurts like it’s never hurt before, and you don’t know if the pain will ever go away.

“Seonghwa I really love you.” your voice breaks and you finally let the tears fall.

“I know, baby.” the pet name has always affected you, but now more than ever it tugs at your heart strings in a bittersweet way. “I really, really love you too. Always.”

“You know you’re the love of my life right? You’re always going to be.” you state and he delivers a squeeze to your hand in acknowledgement.

“And you’ll always be mine.” he answers back. “You’re my best friend in the whole world and the last five years with you as my girlfriend will forever be the greatest five years of my life. I will always stand by the fact that you are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

As you stare at one another with teary eyes, he knows you’re saying the same exact words to him. He doesn’t need to hear you say it, nor does he expect you to. Your eyes say more than enough to him.

You look down at the rose gold band around your finger and you realize how long you’ve kept it on, never once taking it off since that day Seonghwa gave it to you. “Do you want your ring back?” you utter, your eyes watering once more.

Seonghwa shakes his head. “Please keep it. Because I still mean it. And I always will. I’m gonna love you forever, y/n. Even if you decide to take it off, if that’s the last reminder you have of how much I love you, then please keep it.”

Your heart is hurting, and the tears seem never ending as they continue to fall down your cheeks. “I don’t want to leave you Seonghwa.” a sob escapes from your lips, and Seonghwa squeezes your hand again.

“I know, baby but you have to. You’re going to the school you’ve dreamed of going to since you were in the fourth grade. You’re going to accomplish so much and a build a great life for yourself, y/n. And even though I won’t be physically with you, I’m always going to support you every step of the way.” he assures.

You knew in a perfect world you two didn’t have to break up. But long distance was a bitch, and you moving across the world was never going to be easy on him. You couldn’t force each other to wait for the other. Not when the both of you had to start a whole new life separately. You had to let each other go.

You turn to face him, your teary eyes staring into his own. “I’ll always support you too, okay? No matter what. I want you to make the most of your time in Seoul, study hard, surround yourself with good people and have the most fun you’ve ever had. You’re gonna make so many friends and pursue the career you’ve always wanted and experience new things that you’ve never done before. And most of all, you’re going to meet a girl and love her just as much as you loved me. And you’re gonna fall in love all over again, and just be happy. Just promise me that you will make the most of your time over there and live your life to the fullest. Don’t look back, don’t wait for me. Just live until I get to see you again.” your voice breaks. “And if somehow we find our way back to one another, then just know everything we did up to that point was worth it.”

Seonghwa lets out a sob and nods. “I promise.” his voice breaks and you pull him in for your last goodbye kiss.

At nineteen, you visit your hometown for Christmas, which was the first time you’d be back in a year and a half.

Having missed out on the chance to visit last year with your busy schedule, you made sure not to pass up the chance to see your family and friends. The more you grew accustomed to your new home you managed to find a good balance between school, work, and your personal life, so you found that this year was finally a good time to return back for a visit.

And there was no better time to come home than for Christmas day.

“Yeah, just landed at our layover and waiting for the next flight.” you say to your mother over Facetime.

“That’s great honey, I’m so excited to see you.” she smiles at you and you return the gesture.

“I missed you mom.” you say.

“And I missed you even more.”

You two continue conversing amongst one another, as she filled you in on all things you missed while you were gone before a voice interrupts your conversation.

“Hey babe, here.” Juyeon says, handing you a coffee as he presses a small kiss to your forehead.

“Oh thank you.” you murmur with a small smile as your boyfriend sits down next to you.

“Oh hey miss y/l/n!” Juyeon greets seeing your mom’s face plastered on your screen.

“Juyeon!” she squeals excitedly. “I can’t wait to finally meet you in person instead of over video chat. It was about damn time.” she states and you and your boyfriend chuckle. You hand him your phone allowing them to talk with one another and you smile fondly at the newfound bond between Juyeon and your mother.

“I know, I can’t wait to meet all of you guys too! I know y/n’s been really excited, it was all she could talk about for the last three weeks.” he teases. “And she says you make really good pie so i am definitely looking forward to that.”

“That is such an understatement, I make the best pie.” she scoffs. “And I made one specifically for you.” your mother beams.

After a few minutes of playful banter exchanged, Juyeon hands your phone back to you. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom before we board, I’ll be back.” he excuses himself and you nod in acknowledgement.

“Oh y/n, I just thought I should mention Seonghwa and his family are coming over for Christmas dinner as well.” your mom says and the sheer mention of his name as your heart beating in your chest.

“Oh he’s back in town too?” you ask casually and she nods.

“Yup, he’s also bringing his girlfriend.” she adds.

“That’s great, I’m really happy for him.” you say with a smile.

And you meant it, truly.

You knew of his girlfriend from the few photos he posted of her on instagram, and he seemed genuinely happy. Aside from his newfound love, he was clearly enjoying his time in Seoul like you had hoped, and it was everything you wished for him.

You two hadn’t really spoken over the last year, and it wasn’t really on purpose, you two just kind of drifted, as expected. You two were starting fresh in an unfamiliar place, and you both were finding your way around your new homes. You two were also preoccupied with school, and meeting new people so it was sort of inevitably really that you two grew apart. Of course there were the few times you two would chat, but it never lasted long due to time differences and busy schedules.

Although you missed him immensely, you were beyond happy for the life he started for himself, and you knew he was happy for you too. He did exactly what he promised you the last night you spent together, and that was enough to make you happy.

“Flight 219 now boarding.” the announcer calls and Juyeon meets you right on time.

“Okay mom, that’s us. I’ll see you in a few hours, bye, love you.” you bid your farewell before hanging up, and Juyeon grabs your hand leading you to the gate.

“Ready to go home?” he smiles at you, and you beam excitedly, nodding your head.

As the days pass leading up to Christmas, you spend all of your of time with your family and friends, using every second to catch up with your loved ones. You find that Juyeon is adapting well to your home life, bonding with your father and making your mother love him even more than she already did. You introduce him to your childhood friends and he instantly wins over Mingi, Hongjoong, Yunho and Jennie. You admire how much of an effort he put into forming a friendship with them because he knew how much it meant to you.

You were thankful really, to find a guy who was almost perfect for you.

But still, in the back of your mind, even though you loved Juyeon beyond belief, you knew Seonghwa would always have that special place in your heart.

On the day of Christmas, you and Juyeon set the table as you await the Park’s arrival. You were slightly nervous, obviously, given the fact that you had not seen Seonghwa in over a year and you would be meeting his girlfriend. Although you were happy for him, you still felt anxious to see him and her, and you could only hope that she was good for him, because he deserved that much.

Only a few moments later do you hear a knock at your door and your mother walks over to greet your longtime neighbours. Juyeon stands next to you as he wraps an arm around your waist comfortingly and you relax against him.

You see Mrs. Park first as she walks inside, giving your mother a friendly hug. Mr. Park follows suit as he greets your mother and your father with a wide smile on his face.

And then you see him.

His hair is slightly darker and he does look a little older. But other than that his face is so familiar to you and your heart beats wildly in your chest as the two of you make eye contact. His face softens when he sees you and you deliver a small wave to him as he smiles. His girlfriend trails behind him and you take notice of how beautiful she was. You smile at her too and she returns the gesture and your heart kind of warms seeing how shy she is because you always kind of knew Seonghwa would pick someone similar to him.

“Oh my y/n, how long has it been!” Mrs. Park calls towards you and you hug her tightly.

“I missed you!” you say to her and her arms wrap tighter around you.

“I missed you too, darling. And you look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you!” she compliments. “And who is this handsome man?”

“This is Juyeon, he’s my boyfriend.” you smile, and Juyeon shakes her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Park. Y/n’s talked a lot about your family.” he says politely.

“Y/n’s picked a good one, I see.” she winks playfully as you notice Seonghwa and his girlfriend make their way towards you two.

“Hey y/n, long time no see.” Seonghwa says and you almost melt at the sound of his voice. He pulls you in for a hug and you notice how he still wears the same cologne that you had bought him all those years ago.

“Yeah, it’s good to see you again.” you smile at him, and although it had been well over a year since you two last saw each other, there was no hint of awkwardness, just nostalgia.

“Oh, this is Juyeon.” you introduce and Seonghwa delivers a warm smile to your boyfriend, shaking his hand respectfully.

“Nice to meet you.” Juyeon smiles.

“It’s nice to meet you too, I’m Seonghwa. Y/n’s... childhood friend.” he decides to say.

“I know she’s mentioned you a lot in her stories.” your boyfriend acknowledges. “From all the things she told me you were one of the people I was looking forward to meet the most. You seemed really great to her.”

“I could only hope so. She was my best friend after all.” Seonghwa glances at you, and you know there’s a deeper meaning behind his words. “And you seem like a really great guy, so I’m glad she has good people in her life.” Seonghwa returns and you find it heartwarming how well their exchange is going.

You look at the girl beside your ex and she’s staring at you with gentle, curious eyes. “Hi, I’m y/n.” you smile at her, extending your hand out for her to shake.

“Rosé,” she beams at you and you don’t even really know her but there was something about her that assured you she was good fit for Seonghwa. “I heard a lot about you as well, Hwa’s always talking about his life back home so I’m really glad I got to meet his best friend. You were really special to him.”

You smile softly. “I’m glad I got to meet you too.” you say.

“Okay, time for dinner everyone!” your father announces and you all take a seat at the table, passing over plates of food and catching up with one another.

“So Seonghwa, how’s Seoul treating you?” your mother asks as everyone turns their attention towards him.

“Uh really good actually,” he responds. “I joined a band actually! Uh, I became friends with these really nice guys. San and Yeosang. They basically recruited me after they found out I could sing and now we play at this local bar every week on Friday’s and Saturday’s. It was really good for me, I think. It helped with my stress and stuff. And that’s actually where I met Rosé.”

“That’s amazing.” your mother comments with a warm smile.

“Yeah he was really shy at first but San kind of forced him to talk to me which I was really thankful for because I was eyeing him for a while and was too shy myself to approach him.” Rosé says. “I still remember the night he asked for my number and he was stumbling over his words and I swear he looked like he was going to pass out.” she chuckles, and everyone at the table laughs along with her.

“Oh my god I know what you mean, he also cracks his fingers a lot and starts to turn really purple when he’s nervous.” you add and Rosé points at you nodding in agreement.

“Yes! I notice that all the time!” she laughs, and you can’t help but laugh with her.

“Trust me, I have the most embarrassing stories of him when we were kids.” you say.

“Oh god, you have to tell me all of them.” Rosé giggles.

“Obviously, we have the whole night for that.” you wink at her, and you realize how easy and natural it was to talk to her, and that confirmed that you indeed really liked her.

Seonghwa watches the exchange between you both, and as you two make eye contact with each other, a small smile appears on his face as you nod at him, silently approving of the girl he chose to bring home for this special day. His heart grows full seeing how well the two of you got along, and he’s forever grateful at how amazing of a person you were that you were so willingly to form a friendship with his new girlfriend.

Although he loved Rosé dearly, there was still a piece of his heart where he’d always love you. And that piece grows a little more when he realizes how you continue to support him, even through this unconventional situation.

Seonghwa decides he’s going to do the same for you, because just like you were happy for him, he was happy for you too.

Of course he was glad you found someone who could put a smile on your face like he once did, and he knows that for you to have willingly dated Juyeon, he had to have been just as great as you were. You always had the best judgement of people.

“So Juyeon, how’d you and y/n meet?” Seonghwa asks genuinely and he notices the way his face lights up at the mention of your name.

“We had a lot of mutual friends and they introduced us. It’s funny actually, I could tell y/n didn’t even really like me that much at first, she was always so disinterested when I would try and talk to her.” Juyeon laughs.

“Probably stressing too much about trivial things.” Seonghwa chuckles.

“Yeah she does that a lot, so overly anxious all the time” Juyeon notes, and Seonghwa agrees.

“Hey,” you interrupt and Juyeon apologizes.

“Sorry babe,” he chuckles. "but yeah, I finally sweet talked my way to get her to go out on a coffee date with me and then the next day she asked to go out for lunch after our lecture. We kind of just ended up hanging out more often and well, the rest is history I guess.”

“That’s great, I’m really glad she found someone that makes her happy.” Seonghwa smiles, and you feel a sense of gratitude towards him.

The rest of the night your families converse with one another and share a few drinks, as you and Seonghwa share old stories with Juyeon and Rosé. If you told yourself three years ago that you would be sitting by the fireplace on Christmas day with you and Seonghwa as exes exchanging stories with your new lovers, you would’ve never believed it.

But you don’t think it’s a bad thing at all. In fact you’re immensely grateful that despite not being as close to Seonghwa anymore, you were able to see each other grow and adapt with your new lives. A life where you made new friends and made new memories. Where you tried things you’ve never tried before, and explored new places. And where you could love other people and still be so insanely happy for one another.

This was a good thing.

At one point during the night the two of you find yourselves alone, a comfortable silence filling the room as you stared at the fire in front of you, basking in its warmth.

“I missed you.” Seonghwa is the first to break the silence.

“I missed you too.” you return. “And I’m really happy for you, you know?”

“I’m really happy for you too, y/n.” Seonghwa smiles at you. “And I really like Juyeon. He seems really great, and he makes you happy, I can see it. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”

You hum in acknowledgement. “And I think Rosé is amazing. She’s perfect for you. And I’m forever grateful that you two have each other. I know we’ve drifted over the last year, but you’re still my best friend in the whole world. And even though I don’t say it often, or even out loud, I’m supporting you through everything. As long as it makes you happy that’s all I care about.”

His heart warms at your statement and he locks eyes with you. “And you know I’m always supporting you too. Seeing you happy and thriving is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. It’s all I want for you.” he states.

Neither of you have to say it, but you know this is your unspoken way of saying that you both still loved each other greatly. You still stood by the fact that Seonghwa was, and always would be the most important person in your life, and you in his. Seeing one another content and happy despite not having each other around anymore, was the one thing that mattered to you both. The maturity and support you continued to show was only because of the immense love you have, and have always had for one another.

The kind of love that lets you give up the person you love the most so they can have a better life without you.

And the kind of love that’s okay with it.

At twenty-one years old, you and Seonghwa meet again.

It’s during one of your breaks where you find yourself extremely homesick. You don’t even give your family a heads up until you’re outside your childhood home knocking at your door.

It was an impulsive decision but it’s not like you were currently in school. You had the time and the money, and you missed your hometown so incredibly bad that it only took you one second to make that decision to come back.

“Coming, one second!” you hear a male voice call behind the door and your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Well, that’s is definitely not my mom, or dad.” you say to yourself. “Did they move out without telling me or something-” your internal conversation is cut short as the door swings open and you’re greeted by an unexpected figure.

“Y/n?” the boy says in surprise.

“Seonghwa??” you say even more confused.

“Who’s at the door Seonghwa?” now that’s your mother’s voice you hear and she gasps as she walks over to the door. “Y/n! Oh my god why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?!” she pulls you into her arms.

“Surprise.” you chuckle. “I kind of sort of felt really homesick and impulsively bought a plane ticket last night so I could fly back so... here I am.”

“Well come settle in! Seonghwa was just helping with some renovations in the house but I’ll let you two catch up.” your mother grabs your luggage, carrying it up to your bedroom. “Go grab a coffee or something!” she yells upstairs.

You look over to Seonghwa and he shrugs. “Let’s go then.” he smiles and your heart swells.

The two of you walk comfortably beside one another as you take in the scenery around you, missing the familiar place you once called home.

“I didn’t know you were back in town too.” you say after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah, it was pretty impulsive too actually.” he admits as he looks at you.

“What was your reason?” you ask curiously.

“Break up.” he states and your mouth falls open.

“Wait, you and Rosé...”

He nods. “Yeah, things just kinda, fizzled out. You know, we grew apart, wanted different things, came to a point where we were in different stages in our life.”

“Oh wow.” is all you say. “I’m sorry to hear, she was really sweet. I really liked her.”

“Yeah, she was,” Seonghwa sighs. “I mean, we ended on good terms. We’re still friends, actually. I don’t even think I’m necessarily sad about it to be honest, it’s just different, you know? Like I know we weren’t even dating for that long, like two and a half years at most. But I just got so used to being around her and spending so much time with her, and then things just weren’t really the same after a while. It just felt odd not having someone. And being alone made me miss everything I had here so I came back.”

You nod your head in understanding. “Yeah, I totally get what you mean.”

Seonghwa raises his eyebrow at you. “You mean... you and Juyeon too?”

“Mhm,” you hum. “I think for us we just realized we were better off as friends than as a couple, you know? Like after a while the attraction kind of went away and we were only really together because it was comfortable. And we didn’t want to stay together if we weren’t in love anymore, it wouldn’t have made sense. The break up was easy and it felt right when we ended things, I kind of wish it happened sooner but, I was still thankful for the time we spent together. He is still one of my best friends so I’m grateful for that at least.”

“That’s good.” he smiles softly.

“Hey at least we both can confidently say we have a track record of smooth break ups, right?” you joke lightheartedly.

“Thank god for that.” Seonghwa says with a laugh.

When you two enter the coffee shop you’re once again hit with a feeling of nostalgia as you think of all the times you, Seonghwa, and your friends would spend most days after school, drinking hot chocolate and eating pastries together as you all talked for hours and hours.

“I’ll get our usuals, you can wait by our spot.” Seonghwa offers, and you nod making your way towards your designated table.

The moment you sit down you’re hit with a wave of flashbacks you shared in this very space, and a small smile creeps onto your face as you look back on all the old memories.

After your brief moment of reminiscing, Seongwha sits across from you handing over your cup.

“Sometimes you don’t realize how much you miss home until you’re actually back in all the places you grew up in,” you note as you take notice of the small engraving in the corner of the table marked with yours and all your friends’ initials. Your fingers ghost over the mark and when you look up at Seongwha you see that he’s also eyeing the engraving.

“I remember when we put that there,” he recalls with a smile. “After five years of coming here and sitting at this same exact table with our friends we claimed our ownership by putting that stupid engraving that took us forever to do. As if that stopped people from sitting here anyways.” you both chuckled.

“Well at least Jennie and Hongjoong were brave enough to kick out the people who stole our spot.” you laugh.

“Yeah,” Seonghwa smiles fondly at the memory. “I still remember the days where Mingi and Yunho would bet the barista on how many butter croissants they could eat in one sitting so we could all get a supply of free hot chocolate for a year.”

“And it was only after Mingi threw up everywhere that it turned out all we had to do was ask her, and she would’ve done it anyways because we were regulars here.” you finish with a soft chuckle.

A comfortable silence fills the air as you two reminisce on the old memories of your teenage years.

“Can I ask you something?” Seonghwa says.

“Of course.”

“When you finish university,” he starts. “What are you gonna do afterwards? Like do you plan on living abroad permanently? Or are you gonna come back home?”

You pause for a second. “Honestly, after the first year there, I fell in love with the city. And I truly was planning on starting my life there and making that my permanent home, ‘cause I had Juyeon, and I had my new friends, I had jobs lined up for me after graduation, and just an overall great home.” you say. “But after splitting up with him, and sitting with the fact that I was constantly homesick, I kinda realized that this is my home, you know? Like, no matter how much I loved my new friends, and loved the city, it would never be as special to me as here. Nothing over there compared to everything I have here. And I knew you were gonna come back from Seoul after graduation, and Jennie and Yunho were gonna come back from New Zealand too. And Mingi and Hongjoong, and the rest of them were all still here... I didn’t want to be the only one gone. All my real friends are here, my family’s here... you’re here. I didn’t want to leave that all behind.” you exclaim and Seonghwa’s face softens.

“I’m really glad honestly.” he responds. “Because I missed you a lot. And it would’ve really sucked to know you weren’t gonna be here anymore when I moved back. I just really miss spending time with my best friend.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Well, you have the next two weeks to do that.” you smile up at him.

“I have an idea.” his eyes light up and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you wanna have a sleepover tonight? We can have a move night and order take out like the good old times.” he grins at you.

“You had me at sleepover.” you say with a smile and so he grabs your hand, pulling you towards the exit.

When Seonghwa lets you into his house you almost forget the fact that you haven’t been inside in almost three whole years. This was practically your second home and you found comfort in the fact that nothing really changed since you last saw it. Everything looked almost exactly how you remembered it, minus the new couch and dining table, and a few new paintings hung up on the walls.

“Your mom didn’t change much over the last few years.” you observe.

“Yeah, she was going to do a whole renovation like your mom, and she even planned a whole design out, but she opted out last minute. She said she wanted me to come back home to something I remembered.” Seonghwa answers. “I didn’t get why at first but it only started making sense to me the more I started visiting and realized this was like my safety net.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” you say.

You and Seonghwa walk upstairs to his bedroom, and of course nothing changed inside either. It almost seemed like it had been untouched aside from the fresh bedsheets and clean floor. You notice the small picture frames neatly placed across his dresser table and you realize most of them are pictures with you. You pick one frame up as you remember the day so clearly. A faint smile forms on your face as your fingers ghost over the photo.

“I asked my mom to put those up again recently.” Seonghwa states from behind you. “I was gonna put more with our friends but I realized we didn’t take many with them. They were mostly just of us two. I hope you don’t think it’s weird.”

You shake your head. “No, of course not. I would never think it’s weird.” you say, placing the frame back onto his dresser.

Seonghwa tosses you one of his shirts and a pair of your old shorts that you always left at his house during your impromptu sleepovers. And suddenly you’re once again hit with a wave of nostalgia.

“What do you wanna do?” he asks and you flop onto his bed with a deep exhale.

“Let’s just lay here for a second.” you say pulling him down next to you. “I just wanna remember everything that I missed while I was gone.”

Seonghwa settles beside you and you can’t help your racing heart as he inches closer to you. As you lay next to one another looking up at the ceiling, your breathing relaxes and you revel in the feeling of just being so comfortable and at so at home.

“You don’t know how much I missed this,” Seonghwa whispers next to you. “even though we haven’t seen each other in years and we don’t talk as much anymore, when I’m with you it’s like we never even left each other. Like we just pick up right where we left off. You’re the one person who’s always brought me comfort and I never feel like we have to force things with each other, no matter how much we drifted.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks and suddenly the room feels so much warmer. Your heart beats fast and you realize how much of an effect Seonghwa still has on you after all these years.

“I think about you everyday, you know that?” you confess, turning your head to look at him. “Every time I’m out somewhere there will always be little things that remind me of you. And I think about all the places in the city I would take you, and the places I know you would love. I think about all the things you would tell me when I was feeling down, and how you would react to certain situations as if you were right there beside me the whole time. I miss you all the time.”

You both stare at one another and your eyes flicker back and forth to his lips and when you look into his own eyes you notice him doing the same. After a moment of just staring into each other’s eyes, unsure of what to do next, Seonghwa pulls you towards his face and kisses you, and the feeling absolutely overwhelms you in all the good ways.

It’s far from soft and sweet, instead heavy and messy, and so intense that your chest burns with desire. You don’t dare pull away from him even when you needed to catch your breath, because the feeling of his lips on yours after all these years intoxicates you and has you yearning for more. He’s pulling you closer to him and you feel like your body is on fire.

Seonghwa rolls on top of you and your bodies mould perfectly with one another, as if you were both the two missing pieces of a puzzle. You can’t exactly describe the feeling but it’s overwhelming and very reminiscent and brings you back to all the times with Seonghwa that brought you so much happiness years ago. It’s a feeling you didn’t know if you would ever feel again and you missed it more than anything.

The ache between your legs becomes overwhelming and before you know it you’re begging him to touch you, and without any hesitation he does. Your bodies press tightly against each other and your desperate need for him only grows the moment he grinds down on you.

The next thing you know, you’re both unclothed and fully exposed to one another, and you see each other in your most vulnerable states for the first time in years. When he finally pushes himself inside you the pleasure is significantly magnified as the fire inside you only intensifies at the feeling of him.

It happens quick at first but Seonghwa decides he wants to take his time with you. Like you, he didn’t know if he would ever feel you in this way again and he was going to use every second with you that he could.

You don’t know how much time has passed but by the end, you both are exhausted and sore, and panting heavily next to each other. It’s dark outside and the room is warm and even though you’re both sweaty and gross, you haven’t felt this good in a long, long time.

“Was that okay?” Seonghwa asks, pulling your naked body into his arms.

“Yeah,” you say with a small smile. “It was perfect.”

So you lay in each other’s embrace for a while and your heart feels warm and fuzzy, bringing you an endless amount of comfort. You feel content at this very moment, and your worries are pushed to the back of your mind as you fall asleep soundly together.

It’s only at 2 o’clock in the morning do you wake up in a haze and through your fatigued confusion does your brain recall the events that took place a few hours ago. Unable to make out your surroundings in the darkness, your eyes widen not knowing if what happened earlier really happened. When you attempt to sit up you feel a pair of arms wrapped securely around your waist and your body relaxes. Soft snores escape Seonghwa’s lips and you snuggle closer to his body to feel his warmth.

It dawns on you that you still are very much in love with Seonghwa, and of course deep down you knew that you always would be. You also knew given the chance (like now) your feelings would resurface because well... they never really left in the first place.

The unknowingness of this outcome has you shifting in your spot and anxiety creeps in as you think of leaving him all over again. Because after tonight, you don’t know if you can bear the thought of parting ways with him and returning to your life abroad where you can’t tell him exactly how you feel.

You don’t realize right away that Seonghwa has woken up next to you and he only does so because of your constant shifting. It’s when he delivers a gentle squeeze to your waist do you finally take notice.

“Are you okay?” his voice his deep and tired and the sound is enough to make your heart beat fast.

“Yeah.” you reply unconvincingly, but Seonghwa has known you all his life and was also the one to date you for five whole years. He knew you better than you probably knew yourself so in an instant he could tell there was something bothering you.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks.

Your back is leaning against his chest, and you can feel his soft breathing on your neck, and instinctively he starts to rub small circles on your arm knowing that was the one thing that could calm you down.

“It’s stupid.” you say, your voice is quiet and laced with a hint of embarrassment.

“Do you regret what we did?” Seonghwa asks and you’re quick to shut down his claim.

“No! No, of course not.” you return. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

You exhale, letting out a heavy sigh. “Seonghwa I still love you.” it’s almost inaudible to him but he knows he heard you correctly.

He lets out a soft sigh and a smile smiles forms on his face.

“I still love you too, baby.” and when you hear him call you by the name you loved so much, you feel like you’re going to melt in his arms. “I always would remember?”

Your eyes start to water because it’s been so long since you’ve been able to say that to him, and to hear him say those same exact words back to you has a weight lifting right off your shoulders that you didn’t even know was there.

“Why’s that upsetting you?” he questions and you feel him press soft kisses to your shoulder.

“I don’t want to leave you all over again.” you admit.

He sighs next you and attempts to pull you even closer, if that were possible.

“Well we’ll spend the rest of the time we have together and enjoy every second of it. And after graduation we’ll come back home and we’ll pick up right where we left off like we always do.” Seonghwa tries to reassure you and you shake your head, sniffling.

“That’s not what I mean...” you say. “I mean that I don’t want to go back and not be with you. I don’t want to wait out till graduation and know that we aren’t together because I don’t think I can. Not after tonight.”

It clicks in Seonghwa’s brain and he knows exactly what you mean, and so he decides now’s the time to ask you what he’s been wishing to ask you for so many years. He knows he wasn’t supposed to wait for you, but he always knew he would.

“You don’t have to then.” he states.

“I don’t?”

“Do you want to get back together?” he asks and your heart almost stops. “I mean we only broke up ‘cause of the distance right? And we both fulfilled our promises to each other that we would experience a different life and learn what it was like to not be together. We’re in our last year of uni, we’d only have to be apart for a few more months and then we’ll both be back home in no time, permanently. We would never have to be apart again.” he reasons with you.

And it did make complete sense. He was right in every way, so in truth, there really wasn’t anything stopping you from being together again. You don’t have to think much about it because the decision was already made deep down. You knew you wouldn’t hesitate to be with Seonghwa again if you had the chance, and now was that chance.

You turn to face him and even though you two can’t see each other, there’s a small smile painted on both your faces and you lean in to press a kiss to his lips.

“Okay, let’s get back together.”

So at twenty-one years old, you and Seonghwa officially reconcile, and spend the next two weeks together like you planned, catching up on everything you did while you two were apart.

And just like he said, it was like you two never left each other.

And now, at twenty-two years old, Seonghwa pops the question.

And you finally marry him.

"Family, friends, and all loved ones. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Y/n and Seonghwa. We stand here to support this couple and share the joys of their love and commitment as they solidify this partnership, choosing to spend the rest of their lives together.”

“Through this marriage you make a lifelong promise to one another to always love, respect, trust and honor each other through anything, and everything. You promise to stay committed, and loyal, and most importantly, share your dreams, your happiness, and your sorrows with each other.”

“From today, and this moment on, you will forever be united as one.”

You stare at Seonghwa and your heart beats hard against your chest as you stand in front of him watching his eyes light up and his smile grow by the second. You feel like you’re in a dream and everything around you feels so surreal.

Your eyes scan the alter and you see your mother beside Mrs. Park, both of them clinging onto each other as tears of happiness running down their cheeks. Their smile is wide and filled with so much love and you knew this day was something the two have been waiting for, for as long as they could remember.

You see Mingi, and Yunho, and Hongjoong, and Jennie, your best friends who witnessed every progression of your relationship with Seonghwa from the moment you two met. They’re all grinning from ear to ear and you can’t help but laugh as they silently cheer you on from the pews.

You see your dad, and Seonghwa’s dad, and both of your grandparents, and the entirety of yours and Seonghwa’s family joined together as they smile brightly at the two of you.

And then your eyes meet with Rosé and Juyeon as they mouth a “you got this!” to you and Seonghwa, delivering a thumbs up in your direction, and your heart kind of warms because even after splitting up, the friendship between you four remained and it was evident through their support on this special day.

When your eyes lock with your soon-to-be-husband his lips quirk up into a warm smile as you mouth out an “i love you.”

“Now Y/n, Seonghwa, please join hands” the officiant states.

"Do you, Park Seonghwa take Y/N Y/L/N to be your wife?”

“I do.” he states softly, eyes gazing into yours.

"And Y/N Y/L/N, do you take Park Seonghwa to be your husband?”

“I do.” you respond beaming.

"Seonghwa, please repeat after me.” the officiant says. “I, Park Seonghwa, take thee, Y/N Y/L/N, to be my lawfully wedded wife.”

“I Park Seonghwa, take thee, Y/n Y/l/n, to be my lawfully wife...” he repeats.

"...To have and to hold from this day forward...”

“...For better for worse...”

“For richer for poorer...”

“...In sickness and in health...”

“...To love and to cherish...”

“...And to honour you all the days of my life...”

“Till death do us apart.” Seonghwa finishes and your eyes start to water.

“Now, Y/n, please repeat after me.” the officiant calls on you. “I, Y/N Y/LN, take thee, Park Seonghwa, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

You exhale before repeating his words. ““I, Y/N Y/LN, take thee, Park Seonghwa, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

"...To have and to hold from this day forward...”

“...For better for worse...”

“For richer for poorer...”

“...In sickness and in health...”

“...To love and to cherish...”

“...And to honour you all the days of my life...”

“Till death do us apart.”

As Jennie walks over to hand over the rings she smiles brightly at you, as the crowd watches you and Seonghwa each place the new band on your fingers, signifying the start of your lifelong commitment to one another.

“Well! By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!” the officiant shouts with a smile. “You may now kiss the bride!”

And without a second wasted Seonghwa pulls you in kissing you like he’s never kissed you before and the loud shouts and cheers in the background fills your ears as everyone hollers around you. And when you pull away you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face as Seonghwa carries you out of the alter.

“Here’s to our new life together, Mrs. Park.” Seonghwa says with a grin as you kiss him once more.

“I love you so much.” you say.

“And I love you even more.” he returns.

So at twenty-two years old you know that you’re never going to stop loving Seonghwa, and that love was made permanent by the unity of your marriage. From the moment you declared him as your boyfriend at the age of six, to the years you spent learning everything together as a couple, growing apart and reuniting, you know that this was a rare kind of love to find, and one that had to mature and progress over a long period of time.

And so you remember the words you said to him all those years ago the night you parted ways, “if somehow we find our way back to one another, then just know everything we did up to that point was worth it.”

Which stayed true four and a half years later, and for the rest of your life thereafter.

LA FIN.

590 notes · View notes

paralleljulieverse · 4 years

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“We’ll be educating Archie, so we’ll be busy for a while...”

We are a little late with this commemorative post, but last month -- 6 June, to be precise -- marked the 70th anniversary of the debut of Educating Archie (1950-59), the legendary BBC radio series starring ventriloquist Peter Brough and his dummy, Archie Andrews. Fourteen-year-old Julie Andrews was part of the original line-up for the 1950 premiere season of Educating Archie and she would remain with the show for two full seasons till late-1951/early-1952.

It would be difficult to exaggerate the significance of Educating Archie during the ‘Golden Age' of BBC Radio in the 1950s. Across the ten years it was on the air, it grew from a popular series on the Light Programme into a “national institution” (Donovan, 74). At its peak, the series averaged a weekly audience of over 15 million Britons, almost a third of the national population (Elmes, 208). Even the Royals were apparently fans, with Brough and Archie invited to perform several times at Windsor Castle (Brough, 162ff). The show found equal success abroad, notably in Australia, where a special season of the series was recorded in 1957 (Foster and First, 133).

Audiences couldn’t get enough of the smooth-talking Brough and his smart-lipped wooden sidekick, and the show soon spawned a flood of cross-promotional spin-offs and marketing ventures. There were Educating Archie books, comics, records, toys, games, and clothing. An Archie Andrews keyring sold half a million units in six months and the Archie Andrews iced lolly was one of the biggest selling confectionary items of the decade (Dibbs 201). More than a mere radio programme, Educating Archie became a cultural phenomenon that “captured the heart and mood of a nation” (Merriman, 53).

On paper, the extraordinary success of Educating Archie can be hard to fathom. After all, what is the point of a ventriloquist act on the radio where you can’t see the artist’s mouth or, for that matter, the dummy? Ventriloquism is, however, more than just the simple party trick of “voice-throwing”. A good “vent” is at heart a skilled actor who can use his or her voice to turn a wooden doll into a believable character with a distinct personality and dynamic emotional life. It is why many ventriloquists have found equal success as voice actors in animation and advertising (Lawson and Persons, 2004).

Long before Educating Archie, several other ventriloquist acts showed it was possible to make a successful transition to the audio-only medium of radio. Most famous of these was the American Edgar Bergen who, with his dummy Charlie McCarthy, had a top-rating radio show which ran in the US for almost two decades from 1937-1956 (Dunning, 226). Other local British precedents were provided by vents such as Albert Saveen, Douglas Craggs and, a little later, Arthur Worsley, all of whom had been making regular appearances on radio variety programmes for some time (Catling, 81ff; Street, 245).

By his own admission, Peter Brough was not the most technically proficient of ventriloquists. A longstanding joke -- possibly apocryphal but now the stuff of showbiz lore -- runs that he once asked co-star Beryl Reid if she could ever see his lips move. “Only when Archie’s talking,” was her deadpan response (Barfe, 46). But Brough -- described by one critic as “debonair, fresh-faced and pleasantly toothy” (Wilson “Dummy”, 4) -- had an engaging performance style and he cultivated a “charismatic relationship with his doll as the enduring and seductive Archie Andrews” (Catling, 83). Touring the variety circuit throughout the war years, he worked hard to perfect his one-man comedy act with him as the sober straight man and Archie the wise-cracking cut-up.

Inspired by the success of the aforementioned Edgar Bergen -- whose NBC radio shows had been brought over to the UK to entertain US servicemen during the war -- Brough applied to audition his act for the BBC (Brough, 43ff). It clearly worked because the young vent soon found himself performing on several of the national broadcaster’s variety shows. His turn on one of these, Navy Mixture, proved so popular that he secured a regular weekly segment, “Archie Takes the Helm” which ran for forty-six weeks (ibid, 49). While appearing on Navy Mixture, Brough worked alongside a wide range of other variety artists, including, as it happens, a husband and wife performing team by the name of Ted and Barbara Andrews.

Fast forward several years to 1950 and, in response to his surging popularity, Brough was invited by the BBC to mount a fully-fledged radio series built around the mischievous Archie (Brough, 77ff). A semi-sitcom style narrative was devised -- written by Brough’s longtime writing partner, Sid Colin and talented newcomer, Eric Sykes -- in which Archie was cast as “a boy in his middle teens, naughty but lovable, rather too grown up for his years-- especially where the ladies are concerned -- and distinctly cheeky” (Broadcasters, 5). Brough was written in as Archie’s guardian who, sensing the impish lad needed to be “taken strictly in hand before he becomes a juvenile delinquent,” engages the services of a private tutor to “educate Archie” (ibid.). Filling out the weekly tales of comic misadventure was a roster of both regular and one-off characters. In the first season, the Australian comedian, Robert Moreton, was Archie's pompous but slightly bumbling tutor, Max Bygraves played a likeable odd-job man, and the multi-talented Hattie Jacques voiced the part of Agatha Dinglebody, a dotty neighbourhood matron who was keen on the tutor, along with several other comic characters (Brough, 78-81).

In keeping with the variety format popular at the time, it was decided the series would also feature weekly musical interludes. “Our first choice” in this regard, recalls Peter Brough (1955), “was little Julie Andrews”:

“A brief two years before [Julie] had begun her professional career as a frail, pig-tailed, eleven-year-old singing sensation, startling the critics in Vic Oliver’s ‘Starlight Roof’ at the London Hippodrome by her astonishingly mature coloratura voice. Many people of the theatrical world were ready to scoff, declaring the child’s voice was a freak, that it could not last or that such singing night after night would injure her throat. They did not reckon with Julie’s mother, Barbara, and father, Ted: nor with her singing teacher, Madame Stiles-Allen. In their care, the little girl, who had sung ‘for the fun of it’ since she was seven, continued a meteoric career that has few, if any rivals” (81).

As further context for Julie’s casting in Educating Archie, the fourteen-year-old prodigy had already appeared on several earlier BBC broadcasts and was thus well known to network management. In fact, Julie had already worked with the show’s producer, Roy Speers, on his BBC variety show, Starlight Hour in 1948 (Julie Andrews Radio Artists File I).

Julie’s role in Educating Archie was essentially that of the show’s resident singer who would come out and perform a different song each week. In the first volume of her memoirs, Julie recalls:

“If I was lucky, I got a few lines with the dummy; if not, I just sang. Working closely with Mum and [singing teacher] Madame [Stiles-Allen], I learned many new songs and arias, like ‘The Shadow Waltz’ from Dinorah; ‘The Wren’; the waltz songs from Romeo and Juliet and Tom Jones; ‘Invitation to the Dance’; ‘The Blue Danube’; ‘Caro Nome’ from Rigoletto; and ‘Lo, Hear the Gentle Lark’” (Andrews 2008, 126)

Other numbers performed by Julie during her appearances on Educating Archie include: “The Pipes of Pan”, “My Heart and I”, “Count Your Blessings”, “I Heard a Robin”, and “The Song of the Tritsch-Tratsch” (”Song Notes”, 11; Julie Andrews Radio Artists File I). Additional musical interludes were provided by other regulars on the show such as Max Bygraves, the Hedley Ward Trio and the Tanner Sisters.

Alongside her weekly showcase song, Julie’s role was progressively built into a character of sorts as the eponymously named ‘Julie’, a neighbourhood friend of Archie’s. In a later BBC retrospective, Brough recalled that it was actually Julie’s idea to flesh out her part:

“We were thinking of Educating Archie and dreaming up the idea...and we wanted something fresh in the musical spot. We had just heard Julie Andrews with Vic Oliver in Starlight Roof...and we thought, why not Julie with that lovely fresh voice, this youngster with a tremendous range? So we asked her to come and take part in the trial recording and she came up with her mother and her music teacher, Madame Stiles-Allen...and Julie was a tremendous hit, absolutely right from the start. She used to sing those lovely Strauss waltzes...and all those lovely songs and hit the high notes clear as a bell. And then she came to me and said, ‘Look...I’m just doing the song spot, do you think I could just do a line or two with Archie and develop a little talking, a little character work?’ So, I said, ‘I don’t see why not’, So we talked to Eric Sykes and Roy Speer and, suddenly, we started with Julie talking lines back-and-forth with Archie, and Eric developed the character for her of the girl-next-door for Archie, very sweet, quite different from the sophisticated young lady she is today, but a lovely sweet character” (cited in Benson 1985)

As intimated here, an initial trial recording of Educating Archie was commissioned by the BBC, ostensibly to gauge if the format would work or not. This recording was made with the full cast on 15 January 1950 and was sufficiently well received for the broadcaster to green-light a six-episode pilot series to start in June as a fill-in for the popular comedy programme, Take It From Here during that series’ summer hiatus (Pearce, 4). The first episode of Educating Archie was scheduled for Tuesday 6 June in the prime 8:00pm evening slot, with a repeat broadcast the following Sunday afternoon at 1:45pm (Brough, 88ff).

All of the shows for Educating Archie were pre-recorded at the BBC’s Paris Cinema in Lower Regent Street. Typically, each week’s episode would be rehearsed in the afternoon and then performed and recorded later that evening in front of a live audience. Julie’s fee for the show was set at fifteen guineas (£15.15s.0d) for the recording, with an additional seven-and-a-half guineas (£7.17s.6d) per UK broadcast, 3 guineas (£3.3s.0d) for the first five overseas broadcasts, and one-and-a-half guineas for all other broadcasts (£1.11s.6d) (Julie Andrews Radio Artists File I).

The initial six-episodes of Educating Archie proved so popular that the BBC quickly extended the series for another six episodes from 18 July to 22 August (“So Archie,” 5). Of these Julie appeared in four -- 25 July, 1, 8, 14 August -- missing the fist and last episode due to prior performance commitments with Harold Fielding. Subsequently, the show -- and, with it, Julie’s contract -- was extended for a further eight episodes (29 August-17 October), then again for another eight (23 October-18 December). These later extensions were accompanied by a scheduling shift from Tuesday to Monday evening, with the Sunday afternoon repeat broadcast remaining unchanged (Julie Andrews Radio Artists File I). All up, the first season of Educating Archie ran for thirty weeks, five times its original scheduled length. During that time, the show’s audience jumped from an initial 4 million listeners to over 12 million (Dibbs, 200-201). It was also voted the top Variety Show of the year in the annual National Radio and Television Awards, a mere four-and-a-half months after its debut (Brough, 98; Wilson “Archie”, 3).

Given the meteoric success of the show, the cast of Educating Archie found themselves in hot demand. Peter Brough (1955) relates that there was a growing clamour from theatre producers for stage presentations of Educating Archie, including an offer from Val Parnell for a full-scale show at the Prince of Wales in the heart of the West End (101). He demurred, feeling the timing wasn’t yet right and that it was too soon for the show “to sustain a box office attraction in London” -- though he left the door open for future stage shows (102).

One venture Brough did green-light was a novelty recording of Jack and the Beanstalk with select stars of Educating Archie, including Julie. Spread over two sides of a single 78rpm, the recording was a kind of abridged fantasy episode of the show cum potted pantomime with Brough/Archie as Jack, Hattie Jacques as Mother, and Peter Madden as the Giant. Julie comes in at the very end of the tale to close proceedings with a short coloratura showcase, “When We Grow Up” which was written specially for the recording by Gene Crowley. Released by HMV in December 1950, the recording was pitched to the profitable Christmas market and, backed by a substantial marketing campaign, it realised brisk sales (“Jack,” 12). It was also warmly reviewed in the press as “a very well presented and most enjoyable disc” (“Disc,” 3) and “something to which children will listen again and again” (Tredinnick, 628).

In light of its astonishing success, there was little question that Educating Archie would be renewed for another season in 1951. In fact, it occasioned something of a bidding war with Radio Luxembourg, a competitor commercial network, courting Brough with a lucrative deal to bring the show over to them (Brough, 103-4). Out of a sense of professional loyalty to the BBC -- and, no doubt, sweetened by a counter-offer described by the Daily Express as “one of the biggest single programme deals in the history of radio variety in Britain” (cited in Brough, 104) -- Brough re-signed with the national broadcaster for a further three year contract.

For their part, the BBC was keen to get the new season up on the air as early as possible with an April start-date mooted. Brough, however, wanted to give the production team an extended break and, more importantly, secure enough time to develop new material with his writing team. Rising star scriptwriter, Eric Sykes was already overstretched with a competing assignment for Frankie Howerd so a later start for August was eventually confirmed (Brough, 105ff). The Educating Archie crew did, however, re-form for a one-off early preview special in March, Archie Andrew’s Easter Party, which reunited much of the original cast, including Julie (Gander, 6).

The second 1951 season started in earnest in late-July with pre-recordings and rehearsals, followed by the first episode which was broadcast on 3 August. This time round, the programme would air on Friday evenings at 8:45pm with a repeat broadcast two days later on Sunday at 6:00pm. The cast remained more-or-less the same with the exception of Robert Moreton who had, in the interim, secured his own radio show. Replacing him as Archie’s tutor was another up-and-coming comedy talent by the name of Tony Hancock (Brough, 111). It was the start of what would prove a star-making cycle of substitute tutors over the years which would come to include Harry Secombe, Benny Hill, Bruce Forsyth, and Sid James (Gifford 1985, 76). A further cast change would occur midway through Season 2 with the departure of Max Bygraves who left in October to pursue a touring opportunity as support act for Judy Garland in the United States (Brough, 113-14).

The second season of Educating Archie ran for 26 weeks from 3 August 1951 till 25 January 1952. Of these, Julie performed in 18 weekly episodes. She missed two episodes in late September due to other commitments and was absent from later episodes after 14 December due to her starring role in the Christmas panto, Aladdin at the London Casino. She was originally scheduled to return to Educating Archie for the final remaining shows of the season in January and her name appears in newspaper listings for these episodes. However, correspondence on file at the BBC Archives suggests she had to pull out due to ongoing contractual obligations with Aladdin which had extended its run due to popular demand (Julie Andrews Radio Artists File I).

Season 2 would mark the end of Julie’s association with Educating Archie. When the show resumed for Season 3 in September 1952, there would be no resident singer. Instead, the producers adopted ��a policy of inviting a different guest artiste each week” (Brough 118). They also pushed the show more fully into the realm of character-based comedy with the inclusion of Beryl Reid who played a more subversive form of juvenile girl with her character of Monica, the unruly schoolgirl (Reid, 60ff). Moreover, by late 1952, Julie was herself “sixteen going on seventeen” and fast moving beyond the sweet little girl-next-door kind of role she had played on the show.

Still, there can be no doubt that the two years Julie spent with Educating Archie provided a major boost to her young career. Broadcast weekly into millions of homes around the nation, the programme afforded Julie a massive regular audience beyond anything she had yet experienced and helped consolidate her growing celebrity as a “household name”. Because Archie only recorded one day a week, Julie was still able to continue a fairly busy schedule of concerts and live performances, often travelling back to London for the broadcast before returning to various venues around the country (Andrews, 127). As a sign of her evolving star status, promotion for many of these appearances billed her as “Julie Andrews, 15 year old star of radio and television” (”Big Welcome,” 7) or even “Julie Andrews the outstanding radio and stage singing star from Educating Archie” (”Stage Attractions,” 4). In fact, Julie made at least two live appearances in this era alongside Brough and other members of the Educating Archie crew with a week at the Belfast Opera House in October 1951 and another week in November at the Gaumont Theatre Southampton (Programme, 1951).

Additionally, the fact that the episodes of Educating Archie were all pre-recorded means that the show provides a rare documentary record of Julie’s childhood performances. To date, several episodes with Julie have been publicly released. These include recordings of her singing “The Blue Danube” from 30 October 1950 and the popular Kathryn Grayson hit, “Love Is Where You Find It” from 19 October 1951. Given recordings of the series were issued to networks around Britain and even sent abroad suggests there must be others in existence and, so, we can only hope that more episodes with Julie will surface in time.

Reflecting on the cultural significance of Educating Archie, Barrie Took observes that, “Over the years [the] programme became a barometer of success; more than any other radio comedy it was the showcase of the emerging top-liner” (104). Indeed, the show’s alumni roll reads like a veritable “who’s who” of post-war British talent: Peter Brough, Eric Sykes, Hattie Jacques, Max Bygraves, Tony Hancock, Alfred Marks, Beryl Reid, Harry Secombe, Bruce Forsyth, Benny Hill, Warren Mitchell, Sid James, Marty Feldman, Dick Emery (Foster and Furst, 128-32). All big talents and even bigger names. However, it is perhaps fitting that, in a show built around a pint-sized dummy, the biggest name of all to come out of Educating Archie -- and, sadly, the only cast-member still with us today -- should be “little Julie Andrews”.

Sources:

Andrews, Julie. Home: A Memoir of My Early Years. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2008.

Baker, Richard A. Old Time Variety: An Illustrated History. Barnsley: Remember When, 2010.

Barfe, Louis. Turned Out Nice Again: The Story of British Light Entertainment. London: Atlantic Books, 2008.

Benson, John (Pres.). “Julie Andrews, A Celebration, Part 2.” Star Sound Special. Luke, Tony (Prod.), radio programme, BBC 2, 7 October 1985.

“Big Welcome for Julie Andrews.” Staines and Ashford News. 17 November 1950: 7.

Broadcasters, The. “Both Sides of the Microphone.” Radio Times. 4 June 1950: 5.

Brough, Peter. Educating Archie. London: Stanely Paul & Co., 1955.

Catling, Brian. “Arthur Worsley and the Uncanny Valley.” Articulate Objects: Voice, Sculpture and Performance. Satz, A. and Wood, J. eds. Bern: Peter Lang, 2009: 81-94.

Dibbs, Martin. Radio Fun and the BBC Variety Department, 1922—67. Chams: Palgrave MacMillan, 2018.

“Disc Dissertation.” Lincolnshire Echo. 11 December 1950: 3.

Donovan, Paul. “A Voice from the Past.” The Sunday Times. 17 December 1995: 74.

Dunning, John. On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old-Time Radio. New York: Oxford University Press, 1998.

Elmes, Simon. Hello Again: Nine Decades of Radio Voices. London: Random House, 2012.

Fisher, John. Funny Way to Be a Hero. London: Frederick Muller, 1973.

Foster, Andy and Furst, Steve. Radio Comedy, 1938-1968: A Guide to 30 Years of Wonderful Wireless. London: Virgin Books, 1996.

Gander, L Marsland. “Radio Topics.” Daily Telegraph. 13 March 1951: 6.

Gifford, Denis. The Golden Age of Radio: An Illustrated Companion. London: Batsford, 1985.

____________. “Obituary: Peter Brough.” The Independent. 7 June 1999: 11.

“Jack and the Beanstalk.” His Masters Voice Record Review. Vol. 8, no. 4, December 1950: 12.

Julie Andrews Radio Artists File I, 1945-61. Papers. BBC Written Archives Centre, Caversham.

Lawson, Tim and Persons, Alissa. The Magic Behind the Voices: A Who's Who of Cartoon Voice Actors. Jackson: University Press of Mississippi Press, 2004.

Merriman, Andy. Hattie: The Authorised Biography of Hattie Jacques. London: Aurum Press, 2008.

Pearce, Emery. “Dummy is Radio Star No. 1.” Daily Herald. 6 April 1950: 4.

Programme for Peter Brough and All-Star Variety at the Belfast Opera House, 22 October 1951, Belfast.

Programme for Peter Brough and All-Star Variety at the Gaumont Theatre Southampton, 12 November 1951, Southampton.

Reid, Beryl. So Much Love: An Autobiography. London: Hutchinson, 1984

“So Archie Stays on.” Daily Mail. 1 July 1950: 5.

“Song Notes.” The Stage. 28 September 1950: 11.

“Stage Attractions: Arcadia.” Lincolnshire Standard. 18 August 1951: 4

Street, Seán. The A to Z of British Radio. Lanham, MD: Scarecrow Press, 2009.

Took, Barry. Laughter in the Air: An Informal History of British Radio Comedy. London: Robson Books, 1976.

Tredinnick, Robert. “Gramophone Notes.” The Tatler and Bystander. 13 December 1950: 628.

Wilson, Cecil. “Dummy Steals the Spotlight.” Daily Mail. 27 May 1950: 4.

____________. “Archie, Petula Soar to the Top.” Daily Mail. 20 October 1950: 3.

#julie andrews #educating archie #peter brough #archie andrews #radio #bbc #british #1950s #ventriloquist #hattie jacques #max bygraves #tony hancock

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lemondropsssss · 4 years

Text

Jaskier spends what feels like an eternity wrapped up in Geralt’s arms. He hadn’t expected the embrace to last so long, but each time he goes to pull away Geralt makes a glorious growling sound and tightens his grip and really, how is Jaskier supposed to argue with that? He feels safe for what he realizes is the first time in a long time. Geralt’s scent hasn’t changed, is still the same leather-sword oil-horse-musk that is somehow intoxicating. So he tucks himself under his Witcher’s chin and just breathes, and to his amazement Geralt lets him- no, wants him , is holding him as if he’s important, and it warms him from the inside out.

“We should get back to the house,” Geralt says eventually, voice rumbling in his chest as he pulls back and looks the scant inch down at him. Jaskier steels himself for whatever pity might await him when he meets his gaze but there is none. Just a kind of calm fondness Jaskier hasn’t seen before. “I don’t like leaving Fiona alone for too long.”

“She’s fourteen, I think she can handle a hot mug on her own by now,” Jaskier mutters, not caring that Geralt can absolutely hear him, but he steps away all the same.

Geralt grunts back, but Jaskier can tell he’s smiling. It’s all in the eyes crinkles, after all. “C’mon, say your goodbyes so we can go.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes but does go give Roach one last pat, reminding her that she is practically perfect in every way and such a good horse and better than Geralt and it’s not as if he actually walks anywhere, unlike some very good horses I could name. Geralt’s smile grows to almost-visible-to-the-naked-eye, but he soon pulls Jaskier away with a muttered, How many times do I have to tell you to stop trying to fuck my horse, and the exasperatedly fond look on his face makes Jaskier’s stomach swoop.

He’s still angry. Still sad. Still doesn’t believe him, is still waiting for the moment Geralt will turn around and leave him alone in the dust like so many times before. It will hurt when he goes, surely, but at least this time Jaskier will be prepared for it. He’s built himself a life outside Geralt, his world won’t come to a screeching halt when he leaves. And maybe if Jaskier proves he can handle himself without his scary Witcher around, said scary Witcher would be more inclined to visit. But he does like this feeling. Walking side by side again, shoulders brushing companionably, how achingly familiar it all is.

The front window is vacant when they pass, and Jaskier assumes Ciri’s gone up to bed courtesy of Bea’s sleepy tea. He’s surprised then to find the teen sat up on the countertop, potato in one hand and paring knife in the other. She has a look of fierce concentration on her face as she works carefully, the tip of her tongue clenched between her teeth. Bea is close by, up to her elbows in flour and wrestling with a shaggy bread dough while still keeping a close eye on both Ciri and the pot bubbling over the hearth; the woman is a master, and Jaskier stops to watch her with a smile on his face.

“Geralt!” While he’d been distracted by the domestic scene, Geralt had come in behind him and was now crossing the room with the softest look Jaskier has ever seen on his face.

“G’morning, cub.” Geralt presses a kiss to her temple, and Jaskier has to stop himself from staring; both at the pet name and the very public display of affection. Public being only two other people of course, but that was still rather public to Geralt of Rivia. Ciri must be used to the attention for she pays it no mind, which confounds him even more. “Julian said you didn’t sleep well. More of the dreams?” He tucks an errant lock of hair behind her ear and it’s the thoughtlessness of the motion that stands out to Jaskier.

This is a kind of casual and easy affection he’d only seen- well, that he’d only seen with him. Usually in a liminal time; in a shared bed some fuzzy between awake and sleep, or after the sixth ale of a long night, pressed together in a dark corner of a tavern. And Geralt would sweep a hand across his, or press their knees together under the table, or curl a protective arm around his waist while they slept. Seeing that affection here, in the bright light of morning is something he wasn’t prepared for, and he takes a seat at the table lest his legs fail him.

Ciri and Geralt are oblivious to his confusion; she’s showing him how her knife skills have improved, and he’s watching her with a kind of fond fascination Jaskier’s never seen before but finds he quite enjoys. He looks up suddenly, their eyes meet, and Geralt’s expression turns to something more Jaskier can’t even begin to place. This man who gives affection freely and without pause is not the Geralt familiar to him.

It isn’t long before Bea finishes setting out a proper morning meal, and Jaskier can’t help but feel a crippling domesticity as they sit down to eat. Their breakfast is porridge with honey and cream, sausages, and the good brown bread that Bea has refused to ever share the recipe for, no matter how much coin Jaskier offers her. She doesn’t sit to eat, which doesn’t surprise him, but she does continue to work on whatever lunch is going into the pot over the hearth.

It’s a good breakfast, and good company. Ciri does wonders towards greasing the conversation, and Geralt says more than a few grunts in passing, which Jaskier considers a monumental feat. But they came to him for a reason and needs must, so Jaskier steers the conversation back towards the business that brought them to his doorstep.

“When you came to me at the University, you said you needed help. What kind? Money, clothes, food?” It’s blunt, but Jaskier would rather know now what the price for this visit will be.

Geralt looks thrown for a moment before he answers. “All of the above. We’re heading North, towards Kaer Morhen. We need,” He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the actual asking part of asking for help, “Money, yes, and winter clothes. Another mount. Fiona needs a better disguise; cutting her hair, dye maybe- maybe even for both of us.” He makes a face at that and Jaskier wants to laugh; Geralt always did love his hair. “We stand out, it makes us too easy to track. Nilfguaard is-” He cuts off, worried gaze wavering over Ciri, which she huffs at and continues in his place.

“Nilgfuaard is hunting us. Me, technically. They’ve been tracking me since Cintra. And they’ve killed everyone who’s tried to help me.” She doesn’t meet either of their eyes. “They’ll hurt anyone to get to me. Geralt is taking us to Yspaden to meet Yennefer, and then to Kaer Morhen together where we’ll be safe.” Ciri is somber and serious for a girl her age, and Jaskier notices she tucks her hands into her lap out of view.

His compassion for her is quickly overtaken by the creeping feeling of something cold sliding down his spine. Poor stupid little Julian who never learns, the voice inside him taunts, He has his child, has the great mage herself, what use is a washed up old bard to a Witcher? All he needs from you is money, he said it himself. That’s what this morning was, the idea twists around inside him and it hurts, physically hurts him to think it but he can’t stop, Nothing genuine, just a way to keep poor stupid little Julian on his leash. He doesn’t- couldn’t actually care for you.

“Right well, ah-” Jaskier’s voice is hard to his own ears, so he clears his throat before trying again. “That shouldn't be any trouble. We should ah-” His mouth runs dry and he’s just trying to get through this as quickly as possible so he can flee and maybe hide from his houseguests for a good few hours in the tub. But no, he is a mature and reasonable adult who is pleasant to his houseguests and who does not cry in front of them. Geralt is watching him closely with an odd look on his face, and Jaskier feels uncomfortably seen. “We should armor you too, you’re no use to anyone at all as a Witcher with no armour and only one sword.”

“Of no use to anyone at all?” Geralt rumbles, one annoyed eyebrow raised in Jaskier’s direction.

“The last time I checked you can still bleed, O Great and Mighty Witcher, and that shirt you’re wearing wouldn’t stop a butter knife.” For a moment they sound like they used to, and it doesn’t shatter his heart at all to hear. He clears his throat, trying to force down the hard lump of familiarity threatening to choke him. “We can get you a mount easy enough. I assume you’ll want one more Fiona-sized?” He winks at Ciri and she grins. “That shouldn’t be an issue, I have friends at the horse market who owe me a favor. Or several, as the case may be. As for clothes, we can go today to the seamstress on-”

“Pardon, Master Julian?” It’s Bea, a few paces away from the table. Jaskier knows she wouldn’t interrupt without cause, and gestures for her to continue. “You may want to dress the child down in things that look more travel-worn as to blend in. Fresh made clothes might fit well, but they’ll draw attention off the beaten path. I still have some of my Piotr’s things, I could fit them to her size easy enough. They’re a bit battered, but well made. She’ll need a new cloak though, I don’t think his will be warm enough for where you’re going.”

“Bea, you are a blessing from the Gods,” Jaskier beams, mentally kicking himself for not thinking of that. Of course they shouldn’t buy new things, fresh clothes are like a beacon to bandits on the road. Stupid, stupid Jaskier. “Auntie, do you have anything we can dye Fiona’s hair with?” He sends Ciri a reassuring smile across the table. “Your hair is beautiful, little one, but your Witcher is right; it draws too many eyes to you.”

Bea considers for a moment before she nods. “I’ve got a walnut dye that should do for her, aye.”

“Grand, you see to that, and I’ll go see a man about a horse. Huh. For the first time, possibly ever, I actually mean that.” He’s out of his chair and halfway across the room before he’s stopped by an oh-so familiar growl.

“I’ll go with Julian.”

“No,” He’s saying before he even turns around, “You’ll stay here with Fiona and get your hair colored.” Geralt looks like he’s about to argue so Jaskier beats him to it. “Or do you not remember that everyone on the continent is looking for you? If you’re not seen by a Nilfguaardian, you’re seen by a spy, or an informant, or some sad random asshole looking to score the reward purse. So you’ll be staying here, and getting your beauty treatment.”

There’s a stunned little look on his face that makes Jaskier more pleased than it should. He leaves them there, sure Bea will keep them on track and out of trouble, and starts the walk down the street towards the horse markets.

Jaskier wraps the heavy knitted scarf- a present from Bea on his last birthday- around his neck to keep out the first chills of autumn, but that does nothing to keep the ice from his heart. It began as a cool pinprick during breakfast, Geralt is taking us to Yspaden to meet Yennefer, and then to Kaer Morhen together where we’ll be safe and has shifted into a sharp spike of Yennefer, Kaer Morhen, safe that he doesn’t know what to do with.

He remembers the first time he’d asked where Geralt went in winter. He’d been twenty-two, or maybe twenty-four, and as with most stories they’d been drunk. He had wanted to invite Geralt back to Oxenfurt with him, but then Geralt had told him of the crumbling Witcher’s fortress, and the brothers he met there each year. He understood, when Geralt said it was the Witchers sanctuary and not a place for troublesome bards; when they were out in the world, Witchers could never relax, never take a deep breath for fear of killing or being killed. Of course they would need a place without humans, without others, where they could be free for a few months a year. Jaskier was never hurt that Geralt did not share that place with him- if anything, he loved that Geralt had somewhere safe and warm to rest his weary bones each year.

And Jaskier is a grown ass man, he will not begrudge a child being allowed to her father’s home but. But Yennefer. Jaskier knows about the sacking, he knows the last mages to set foot in Kaer Morhen were the ones who brought it crumbling down. If Geralt is bringing Yennefer that must mean they’re together. It will be Yennefer Geralt presents to his brothers, Yennefer who will walk the halls, explore the library, spend months curled up with her lover and their child and-

The honey-colored memory of their early morning embrace is souring in his mind; like black ink spilled over the image and corrupting it until there is nothing left but the acrid feel of Geralt’s arms around him and the burning knowledge that he was going to be left behind again. The promise of the morning means nothing now- Geralt will leave him for Yennefer like he always does, and Jaskier will let him like he always does, and the status quo will remain ever stable.

Jaskier should learn to say no when old not-friends show up at his doorstep, he really should.

He quickens his pace- if he hurries the sale, he might be able to convince Filip to take an early lunch and they can get spectacularly drunk in the hayloft like stupid teenagers instead of doing their actual jobs.

here are parts one two three four five. and the full story is on ao3 here

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfic #geraskier #geraskier fanfic #geralt of rivia #Yennefer of Vengerberg #jaskier #ciri #geraltxjaskier #geraskier angst #geralt x jaskier #my fic #my fanfic

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cluelessnamelessao3 · 3 years

Text

But It’s Not Funny

1. Look, I Know

You had a pretty bad habit of laughing at everything.

Like, a really bad habit.

The world wasn’t actually as funny as you made it out to be, but honestly, how could anyone fault you for trying so hard to be happy? You were just trying to get by. Though, maybe avoiding serious topics by laughing it off wasn’t exactly the best of strategies—and avoiding feelings by pretending nothing bothered you?

Hah… You knew it wasn’t healthy. You knew it wasn’t funny. But what else could you do?

It was either pretend nothing was wrong or cry hysterically. And... you didn't like to cry.

You needed to be strong. Needed to be strong for everyone… and so that meant you smiled when you felt like crying, laughed when you felt like dying, and you let no one know your true pain.

Years back, when you had gone to your mother’s funeral, well, suffice it to say that you were a little too light-hearted about it. You just couldn’t take it as seriously as you knew you were supposed to. It was a problem.

(But it was so much easier to hide from your feelings than confront them, right?)

Though, no one who actually knew you would blame you for that—they’d never blame you for your oddities. They all knew… the things that had happened. They didn’t understand, but they knew. To them, you were pitiable.

You’d gone through some shit in your life. Shit that wasn’t just an everyday occurrence. You’d been to the doctor many times, too many times, for too many reasons (both within your control and completely out of your control). Technically, you were in trouble with the state—though not the kind of legal trouble most would expect. It was more of the kind of trouble that you weren’t allowed to go out of the state, mostly because the state—and your family, for that matter—did not want you to endanger yourself (more than you already had).

There was a bunch of legal jargon that went with it, but at the moment all those long words and fancy terms just seemed like mush to your brain—all you really needed to know was that they didn’t trust you on your own. (You didn’t really trust you on your own either).

To make a long story short, one too many trips to the hospital meant that you needed to be watched.

It wasn’t such a big deal though, you really weren’t planning on doing anything else but live in this small town by the infamous mountain and spend your days grooming animals. After all, with the lovely and comforting company of your service animal, what more could you have asked for?

Well, some friends might be nice, and the ability to travel and explore other cities and towns would be cool. (You'd always wanted to see more of the world). But it was your own fault you couldn’t leave, not that you really had the money to do so anyway. Traveling took money, and money was just something you didn’t have.

The door to your shop chimed, someone came in and peered at the supplies before ducking back out. You didn’t notice them, but Luna did.

You must have been standing there, looking dumb and lost for quite a while, because your service dog, Luna, whined before nudging your hand with her wet and cold nose. You glanced down, an apologetic smile on your face, as you absent-mindedly patted her head. She was too good to you, and you knew you were lucky to have such an attentive dog.

Part of you was still bitter about the fact that it had taken so long for you to get her.

It’d taken so long for this lifeline—this wonderful, loving, caring lifeline to be given to you.

At the risk of sounding too-angst filled and too-woebegone; it’d taken too long for someone to recognize that maybe the only thing you really needed was a reason—a reason to live, something (or someone) to live for, and something (or someone) to help you in your day-to-day life.

Maybe if you’d gotten her earlier you wouldn’t have had so many self-inflicted trips to the hospital—maybe if you’d been treated properly the first time, you wouldn’t have been struggling as hard as you had been—maybe if you’d never had been a victim of—

There were too many maybe’s, what was done was done, and what mattered now was the fact that you were here, and Luna was right here beside you.

She kept you safe and she kept you happy—or, she did her best, at least. (And her best was enough. It was more than enough.)

The door rang once more and a short child walked in, their hair cropped to land just above their shoulders and dreadfully, miserably tangled (you felt the strong urge to hand them a brush). They looked less than put together, their overly large sweater stained with what looked like ketchup, and their face covered with a myriad of scuffs and scratches. They looked almost familiar, but you couldn’t place it.

It took you a second to realize there was a squirming cat clutched in their arms. They wore a self-satisfied smile and seemed to be completely ignoring the cat scratches that littered their face—in fact, they seemed completely unconcerned by the cat’s violent attempts to escape.

You tried not to wince at the sight of them and their minor injuries, some of the cuts still oozing blood.

Taking a deep and calming breath, your dog’s comforting presence grounding you, you called out a hearty hello, introducing yourself and offering your assistance. After a second thought, you laid a small wash cloth on the counter, gesturing at the cuts on their face with a sympathetic look.

The kid, though now that they were up at the desk you realized they weren’t nearly as young as you had originally thought, they seemed to be around fourteen or so, shifted the cat in their arms in order to grab the damp cloth and dab at some of the cuts.

Something about their bright and shining face, that little self-satisfied grin, and the determination sparkling in their honey brown eyes still tickled at the back of your mind. You felt like you’d seen them before, but the reason why remained elusive.

The cat was visibly struggling in their arms when they spoke, and their voice was so soft and gentle.

For a moment you allowed that sweet tone wash over you—reminding you of happier memories: of the snow you used to love to play in as a child, your face red and warm despite the chill in the air and the scenery around you untainted, but instead pure and shimmering with the powdery white snow covering it. Their voice was soothing, and oddly mature sounding despite their childlike appearance.

They seemed so much more weathered than the average kid their age, and they seemed almost otherworldly, in a way you couldn’t quite explain. Either way, it was obvious they’d had experiences that most ambiguously aged children (teenagers? You still couldn’t tell) had ever even dreamed of having.

“Can you groom cats?”

You nodded, placing a business-like smile on your face before stepping forward to reach for the now hissing cat. It batted a paw at you as the messy haired teenager (child?) handed the struggling cat over.

Once you had it, him, in your arms, though, he seemed to calm down fairly quickly.

You’d always had a knack with animals, especially ones like this little guy who were angry and bitter and seemingly tired of existence—maybe they just sensed that you were of a like mind. Or maybe they could see you already had gone through too much; they clearly didn’t need to add to the ever growing list of issues in your life.

Whatever the talent was, or wherever it came from, you were plainly relieved, because it made your job immensely easier.

“I don’t suppose you brought money to pay for this grooming,” you paused, considering them, then asked, “Actually, is this even your cat?”

You snorted upon seeing their sheepish grin, which was an answer enough in itself, as they shrugged in response.

“Well, that’s okay, kiddo, since it’s your first time, I’ll do this on the house, okay?”

The kid nodded with a somewhat reverent expression on their face.

“My name is Frisk, by the way,” the small kid (teenager, you chided yourself. It was so hard to see them as anything but a child) said in a quiet voice, “He’s so calm with you…” they trailed off in wonder.

You smiled and nodded proudly, “I’ve always loved animals. I get on with them, you know? People are difficult… and well, people can be fake. But like, animals are real. They’re not hiding their intentions; they have no need to. Animals are cool, yeah?”

You realised you were rambling but didn’t feel as awkward about it. Something about the actual interest on Frisk’s face was making you feel like what you were saying was actually worth listening to. It felt nice to have someone make more than just polite small talk with you.

Frisk was nodding in agreement as the cat, having sensed he was being ignored, yowled for attention.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the cat’s antics before turning to Frisk and asking “Do you have some place you need to be, Frisk? Or do you want to hang out here while I finish this little monster up?”

The cat in question didn’t seem exactly pleased at being called a monster, but he stopped his indignant protest when you moved to scratch him lightly on the chin. You felt Frisk’s eyes on every interaction between you and the cat. It seemed they had something on their mind when it came to the grumpy feline. Or maybe, it was something you were doing?

Either way, they seemed almost confused, or calculating.

Frisk shrugged in response, and to you it didn’t seem like they were about to be going off anywhere, anytime soon, so with that question answered, you set the cat down on the table and began to work, slipping him into a harness that would—hopefully--make grooming less of a hassle, before you set up a small lukewarm bath and gathered the electric trimmer.

His fur was a dirty orange colour, darker spots dotting it along with a few stripes along his spine—he looked to be some sort of tabby cat colouring, though not like anything you’d seen before, his eyes shone a brilliant green and you tried not to question that knowing look he gave you as his narrowed eyes flicked between you and the bath.

It was almost unnerving how much intelligence you could see reflected behind those eyes.

You gingerly picked up the cat and he fell limp in your arms, as you carried him over to the waiting tub, you called over your shoulder “What’s this pretty kitty’s name?”

Frisk shrugged, though you didn’t see it, before calling back, “I don’t know, I want to name him Princess.”

You tried not to laugh at the name, though you couldn’t help but snort at the offended look that the cat was giving Frisk from his perch on the edge of the tub.

He looked at you, and you looked at him. His tail flicked in agitation. You blew the hair away from your face, “okay ol’ boy. I’m going to need you to work with me here. Tub. You. You’re gonna be pals. We’ll get you looking like fire again, okay?”

Frisk snickered at your little pep talk. The cat did not look amused, however, when you gently pushed him back until he slid into the tub and aside from a few hisses and a couple yowls that announced his displeasure, he didn’t fight you too much.

Frisk and you chatted back and forth as you ever so carefully washed and picked through the cat’s matted fur.

Normally on an animal with such terrible mats you’d just cut them off the best you could and give them a good bath, but after seeing how cold the weather outside was and knowing this little guy was a stray, you had been determined to save most of the fur you could. You couldn’t let the poor, angry, little man freeze to death.

Besides, he seemed to like the gentle massages you were giving him, the suds rolling off of his back and into the now murky water.

Frisk paused your conversation, after their phone rang once, then twice. They promptly excused themselves to go answer it. You just continued to work through the heavy tangles in his fur.

They came back in a second later though, seemingly hyped over something. Frisk asked excitedly and without any preamble, “So, you have a sign out there for help wanted! Right?”

It wasn’t as much of a question as their upward curving tone indicated it was, but you nodded in response anyways.

“Well, uhm, I don’t, uhm, have a lot of exper—” They stuttered out before you interrupted them with a hand up, the soap dripping off your fingers and onto the floor.

You didn’t normally hire strangers—you normally didn’t talk to strangers, but something was pushing you to do this. Something was telling you that it was of the highest importance to offer Frisk some work. You recognized this feeling, it was the same feeling that helped you find Luna, and helped you start this small business as a pet groomer. You’d trusted the feeling then, and you would trust it now.

“Frisk, you seem super sweet, and I could use some help, okay? How about we start you as an intern or volunteer of sorts and we can see where to go from there? I can’t offer you any payment yet, but if you like the work enough and are willing to get some certification or training, I’d be happy to take you on.”

You couldn’t help but smile brightly at their beaming face, their eyes wide with apparent happiness. In a flurry of motion, they seemed to be signing excitedly, and your eyes studied their hands for a moment trying to piece together the words.

It’d been so long since you’d seen signs—and even longer since you’d tried to sign. It was something from your mother’s time, something the two of you had done as you’d grown up.

After a second’s pause, they coughed awkwardly and were about to repeat the motions, this time attaching their meanings with words, but you waved the gesture away and instead signed back, your hands clumsy from lack of practice.

“I would love to have you stop by tomorrow. May I meet your parent, to talk over details with them?”

You didn’t think Frisk could look any happier as they quickly nodded before bounding out of the store, their (new) cat momentarily forgotten.

You merely shrugged before returning to the task at hand.

Once the fluffy little monster was washed and dried you placed him back on the cool metal table and clipped him into the little cat harness before grabbing some trimmers and a small pair of scissors—it may be cold outside, but you couldn’t risk the fur getting tangled and ruined like that again, a quick trim would ensure he stayed warm and his fur stayed healthy.

He shied away from the buzzing trimmer at first before you won him back with a well-placed treat (or two).

An hour later with a freshly cleaned and cut cat, you turned around with a large smile on your face to see… a skeleton? You’d seen various monsters before (and had even groomed a few of them) but you’d never seen a skeleton monster before…

He was really tall and surprisingly thin for such an impossibly tall being. Well, you supposed with a slight sigh, anyone would be considered impossibly tall compared to you.

You weren’t exactly… well, by any standard, you were far too short for your own good—for god’s sake, you even had a small stepping stool at your register just so you could use it comfortably.

People always thought you were cute and spunky (often belittling you, both physically and mentally)—or they just assumed you were a bratty, little child that spoke out of turn far too often. You weren’t really sure which idea you preferred.

The monster was bouncing back and forth, looking between the leashes hanging on the wall and the treats in a bowl on the counter. He was very clearly excited, and you couldn’t quite understand why. All his movement and activity was making you somewhat anxious.

Upon noticing that you’d finished with the orange and rather grumpy cat, the large skeleton bounded forward, closer to the counter, with a huge grin plastered on his face. For some reason, his presence gave off the feeling of warmth and kindness and boundless energy. However, his size screamed to your senses “DANGER”.

While he seemed sweet in his own way, Luna recognized your slight vestiges of fear and padded up to your side to sniff and lick at your hand.

You greeted the skeleton in a small and shy voice, which was completely drowned out by his boisterous and booming yell, “HELLO, SMALL HUMAN! You are nearly the SAME SIZE as my TINY HUMAN!”

You smiled weakly, unsure of what the correct response would be, that was, until you spotted a meek looking Frisk behind the tall skeleton, who continued to speak and announced that his name was the GREAT Papyrus, or something like that—you weren’t paying as much attention as you should have been, the noise and yelling was a little more frightening than you’d like to admit.

Frisk seemed to sense that and placed a gentle hand on Papyrus’ arm. He cut his monologue short and after receiving a stern look from what he called the “tiny human” he continued to speak in a much softer tone—it was more of a yell whisper, which you figured was good enough, at least he was trying.

You tried to breath in and out as slowly as possible, attempting to calm your rapidly beating heart, it was hard though, his yelling, his height, his stature and appearance in general—you tried not to over think it.

Now was not the time to panic, you were in your shop, there was a wriggling cat in your arms, a warm Luna at your feet, and the whining sound of a very lonely dog in a pen coming somewhere from the back area. You were in your twenties, you were with Luna, you were not alone, you were in your shop, there were noises, and they were okay. You were okay.

Running these words through your head again and again as you gently handed the cat over to Frisk, you began to calm down. Papyrus didn’t even seem to notice your momentary panic.

“WOWEE! That cat SURE is CLEAN!” You nodded and gave a soft smile while Frisk handed the angry cat to the large skeleton monster.

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the scene that unfolded before you—all tension leaving you at once.

Something about cats and their strange instinct to viciously and repeatedly attack anything they didn’t understand had always been a point of hilarity for you but this… Well, this was just too funny.

Claws do nothing on bones, and it didn’t matter how many time the cat slapped Papyrus’ face with his paws, the skeleton didn’t even seem to notice, or maybe he didn’t care about the cat’s obvious aggression, instead he just shoved his face closer and cooed loving words to the increasingly frustrated Princess. Thinking about the absurd name only made you laugh more.

It was hours later after the sun had finally set that you were home, cuddled up in the largest sweater you could find, your ridiculous fuzzy socks making you look more childlike than ever. You lay, draped over the couch in an almost dramatic fashion with your hand poised unintentionally dramatic over your face, covering your eyes from the burning light of the floor lamp. Luna laid on top of you, her heavy body crushing your legs, but you didn’t want to move.

You’d rather let your legs shrivel up and fall off than risk waking her up just because you were a little uncomfortable. She was too cute; you couldn’t do that to her.

Overall, your day at work had gone fairly well, aside from one angry customer who bitched you out about washing their dog with shampoo that smells of coconuts rather than one that smells like vanilla—you had tried your best to stand your ground, but folded fairly quickly, a laugh and a discount later and they left the store. Honestly though, who the fuck cares whether their dog smelled like vanilla or sunshine or some other shit? As long as they were clean, wasn’t that enough?

You really needed to work on the whole “sticking up” for yourself thing… or at least you needed to stop laughing when people got angry.

You couldn’t help it though. When people were angry your first instinct was to cry, and ever since you were a young child, you’d been adamant on never crying…

You didn’t like the messy way tears were. The way they made your eyes sting afterward, and the way that your throat would hurt from your sobs or the sticky feeling of your face after crying for a particularly long time.

Screw the stress relief it supposedly provided, crying was too messy, too weakening to be considered useful.

Plus, people would worry, and that was the last thing you wanted to happen.

With that last tired thought, you roused Luna and the two of you waddled off to bed.

Morning came and Luna bounded out of your arms and off of the bed with such enthusiasm that you could only groan your jealousy. She was too much for you, honestly, how could anyone or anything be that god damn excited to wake up?

(She wasn’t normally this excited, either! Usually, she was just as grumpy in the morning as you were.)

Apparently, you hadn’t gotten up in time because soon the bed shifted from Luna’s added weight and before you could utter a protest her face was in yours and her nose snuffling all of your hair and face and neck and then god, that damn pink tongue was licking you until you finally sat up, pushing her away.

“I’m up, I’m up, god, can’t you let a girl sleep in a little?” She merely blinked at you with those puppy eyes of hers. “No? Figures.” With a sigh you reached over and pet her big blocky head.

She was way too cute. Her slightly bowed legs coupled with the slight chubbiness—probably your fault, you were too lenient when it came to treats—and her pretty little, short coat, she was a sweet looking dog, short floppy ears, long clumsy tail, warm brown eyes. She was too precious.

But the licking thing…

It was less than precious.

You sighed with resignation. It was time to get up, you only had an hour until you needed to be opening the store anyway.

“Okay, fine, you win, Lu, let’s go.” She snorted with satisfaction and you quickly got ready for work, making sure to grab a small snack to eat on the way there.

Today was going to be a good day, you hoped.

Author’s Note: I started this fanfiction in 2016, but due to personal circumstances I ended up leaving it for a while. Now, it is 2021 and I am starting to write again on the daily. I am several chapters ahead of what is posted on AO3 and hope to remain that way. I have no idea on an update schedule, but there will be continued updates.

#binf #but it's not funny #chapter 1 #chapter 1 but it's not funny #undertale fanfiction #sans/reader #sans undertale #sans/female reader #frisk is not the reader #undertale #fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own #binf undertale

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badlydrawndrawnings · 4 years

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a messed up widdershins-caliban family mini-theory/headcanon

[bare with me i wrote this around 1am in my time zone and thought to post it now instead of at a more reasonable period like 1pm maybe you’ll catch typos]

So Mrs. Widdershins and her first husband are clearly not part of the sugar bowl generation (i think that’s the term for vfd members who are children when the original schism happened?). They’re original schism members, since Fernald is always technically lump with the sugar bowl generation to keep things simple.

But we have Fiona, who is definitely lump with the Baudelaires and Quagmires children (idk what term is used for them). We know that Fiona’s birth happened when Fernald is a teenager: greater than or equal to 13, but less than or equal to 16. I’m excluding 17 because babies in the asoue world can remember memories one thought they wouldn’t remember and Fiona could be barely be two when recalling fernald and captain widdershins fighting and fernald’s departure, and 18 because it’s age you become an adult in the asoue world.

Other things to considers: Widdershins isn’t actually that much older than Fernald but still older than Fernald for Mrs. widdershins to accept the proposal and Mrs. Widdershins’ death may be connected to the Anwhistle Aquatic fire that took Gregor Anwhistle’s life (since she may have worked with Gregor to created the medusoid mycelium).

The biggest thing to think about is that Fiona in the Grimm Grotto, says this about her biological father: “My father moved away!” (page 291, in my copy at least). I always thought it as sad detail how Fiona’s family is broken, but after discovering when a child takes in their steparent’s surname is like, basically an adoption, Fiona is Fiona Widdershins for a reason.

Widdershins adopting Fiona is possible proof Mrs. Widdershins’ first husband wants nothing to do with his old family. With Mrs. Widdershins’ death, the first husband could have fought custody for Fiona (and Fernald, if he didn’t switch sides at this point) or at least visitation rights, but didn’t. Widdershins adopting his late wife’s children may have been his way of trying to keep the siblings together, but in the end could only adopt Fiona. While Widdershins will never win best father of the year, Widdershins would only win second place for worse father of the year.

The first husband will wins first place for worse father of the year, because i think he is Thursday, and left his child again in his marriage to Miranda Caliban. So, like, this is what i have theorize/headcanon: Mrs. Widdershins and Thursday are the youngest members of the original schism generation. They are sometimes mistaken as being the oldest sugar bowl generation members (that goes to monty) and are flatter.

Mrs. widdershins and Thursday always planned Fernald’s birth, and only him. Seeing how Parents with two or more children have a greater chance of dying after their children are kidnapped taken, having one child gives Fernald a greater chance to be raise by them for longer, before getting indoctrinated into VFD.

Their plan work. Fernald didn’t even had to get kidnapped taken. VFD treated him as a kid who always hang out at his parents’ workplace. Fernald got to know several of his parent’s co-workers, two including Captain Widdershins (VFD forced Widdershins to babysit Fernald as a way to toture him [Widdershins]; Widdershins ends up becoming a weird big brother figure instead -i say this because Fernald still got along with Widdershins when the photo was taken) and Gregor Anwhistle (who constantly worked beside Fernald’s mother).

As a teen, Fernald learns from his parents that he’s going to be a big brother! he’s excited, because holy **** he gets to be a big brother and teach his little sibling everything! Mrs Widdershins isn’t as excited, but excited enough for Fernald’s sake. Thursday though...he doesn’t really talk about his feelings about his second child. When Fiona is born, Fernald and his mother care and love her. Captain Widdershins and Gregor -and other vfd member that visits the family- dotes over baby Fiona.

Thursday isn’t really involved with the family now, and starts to not come home as much. Eventually after several weeks, he moved out. A divorce happens, giving his ex full custody of the children. Within a month of the divorce proceedings, Captain Widdershins and Mrs. Widdershins begin dating. After the divorce is finalize, Widdershins finally pops the question, and Mrs. Widdershins actually becomes Mrs. Widdershins. Fernald is a bit weirded out by the fact his metaphorical big brother is dating and eventually marries his mother, but nothing really changed between them.

While this is going on, Mrs. Widdershins starts working more and more with Gregor and became close to him. like super close. Close to where Mrs. Widdershins threw herself into flames to make a blind attempt of saving of work they made together. like how a mother tries to save her own child from death.

With mom and Gregor dead, as well as Captain Widdershins ‘maturing’ and demanding respect from Fernald not as a big brother but as a (step)father, Fernald tries contacting his biological dad to ask why he isn’t fighting Widdershins’ adoption. There he learns dad flat out moved away, as well as discovering the reason why dad left via another vfd member *coughkitcough*. While arguments between Widdershins and Fernald were always about the Anwhistle Aquatic fire and Mrs. Widdershins’s death, the ‘ban, ban, absolutely banned’ topic they fought over once and mutually agree to never bring up again is whether Fiona is really Fernald’s half sister.

(Why it became ban is something Widdershins forgot. Fernald remembers though. While upset at first, Fernald realize that in the end, it was Widdershins who returned to them, not Thursday.)

Thursday think Fiona is Gregor’s daughter. The VFD member Fernald talks to takes Thursday’s word as truth. After all, if Gregor and Mrs. Widdershins were willing to betray VFD with the Mycelium, they could have betrayed loyalties to Thursday. With Thursday elsewhere for the next several years, the VFD member gives her opinion on the topic at hand: despite the fast courtship and wedding, Fiona can’t be Widdershins’ kid, because Gregor is more closer in age to Thursday and Fernald’s mother, as well as spending more time with Gregor than Widdershins before Fiona’s birth. Thursday’s last words to her before he left the city is that he thinks Widdershins got seduced (the vfd member didn’t lie here).

Fernald think Fiona is Widdershins’ daughter. For starters, mom really did agree to date Widdershins after dad asked for a divorce. And she really did married someone who is a big brother figure to Fernald. Problem is, Fernald is already upset at the idea mom is a cheater. With the vfd member having such a low opinion on mom over the mycelium, Fernald doesn’t want to think of the possibility mom seduced Widdershins. So Fernald thinks Widdershins is the homewrecker, and just because Widdershins is Fiona’s dad doesn’t give him the right to be a father to him [Fernald].

Widdershins thinks Fiona is Thursday’s daughter. Just because he [Widdershins] and Mrs. Widdershins got to together fast doesn’t mean he was sleeping with her before hand. Sometimes people naturally fall in love and get marry fast. Widdershins even tells Fernald that Mrs. Widdershins loved Thursday and would never had betrayed him [Thursday] in any way, and that he [Widdershins] would never ruin anyone’s marriage (Widdershins legitimately thought Fernald and Fiona’s parents were the types to stay together until death).

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Thursday had asked VFD to move him away from any major water related places. At this point, Thursday still have tiny respect for Gregor and his ex. When VFD asked the reason why, Thursday said he and his ex-wife agreed to not see it each other for the time being (the divorce was not amicable). So now, Thursday works in the city.

Thursday meets up with many sugar bowl generation members. There he meets Miranda, and they began dating. Thursday is hesitate to go further, because he got word from kit his ex agreed to married Widdershins (Thursday wonder why his ex and Gregor didn’t hook up). As time passes, he thinks Miranda is the one and finally popped the question. They had a small wedding with two guests because they don’t have the money: Miranda’s sister Olivia and another VFD member kit sent in N’s place because N is on a mission. After the marriage, the two decided to go to the island with other VFD members. Thursday gives his two cents about the newly wedded Widdershins, and leaves.

While happy with his new wife and the idea of their future child Friday, Thursday comes the realization he misses being an active member of VFD (Ishmael’s rule of the Island factor into it). While not as young as he used to be, Thursday still wants to help the noble side, even in the smallest ways. After an argument with Miranda about retirement and protecting their child from the rest of the world, Thursday ends up leaving, hoping that someday Miranda will follow suit and take their child back to the mainland.

Thursday being on the island pretty much caused him to go through an update crash course on what the hell happened. He is a bit surprised his son switched sides; but he does not believe Fernald has hooks for hands. In regards to Fiona, Thursday heard not kit but from ike and josephine that Widdershins adopted Fiona shortly after Fernald switched sides.

Thursday frankly decided to keep a safe distance from the Widdershins family as a precaution of Fiona wanting to visit him. In fact, upon his return, Thursday does everything to avoid getting into contact with them, to where they have no idea the man even return from the island.

By the time of The End/Chapter Fourteen, the last piece of news regarding Fernald and Fiona Thursday hears is more of a rumor: they’re back in the city and in the care of Widdershins, and for some reason they’re living with Gregor’s brother (Thursday thought D never adopted H in time before her death), who may or may not have adopted the Quagmires children? Thursday has enough trouble enough trying to verified the rumor Miranda and Friday are back on mainland, having the incredibly deadly viper as a pet.

#asoue #a series of unfortunate events #fiona widdershins #fernald #hook handed man #captain widdershins #mrs widdershins #miranda caliban #friday caliban #gregor anwhistle #this is a text post #this is proof i shouldn't think of theories and headcanons in the dead of night #theory #book verse headcanon

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jhaernyl · 4 years

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Big Damn Table challenge

Character: OC - Vincent Conner Bolton [original story]

Prompt #30 - Death

Age did not sneak up on her. It did not come around while she was unsuspecting or distracted and then suddenly made her hair pale from blonde into grey and white, it did not take her by surprise.

She didn't wake up one morning and look herself in the mirror and thought Damnit, I look old.

She wasn't fooled by the youth of her witch husband, witches live up to three hundred years when they take care of themselves and that's without any attempts at cheating Khage out of her dues, or that of her shifter husbands, shifters live up to two hundred years as long as they don't do something idiotic and get themselves killed earlier than that.

She never forgot that she wasn't ageing at the same pace as them, that as a human she'd get a little bit more than a hundred years if she was stubborn enough and followed Roman's regimes well enough, both things she was definitely going to do, and it did not surprise her that she ended up being the older and more responsible one of the four of them, five counting Anatoly and Anatoly ought never to be counted because Anatoly decided he was her mom friend about thirty seconds into meeting her and hasn't budged from that role since, no matter how much more mature she grew up to be.

It's all down to developmental differences, because of different lifespans leading to different ageing processes and that extends all the way to brain chemistry and energy levels and how that affects how young or old someone is liable to both be and feel on any given day.

She is younger than Roman, and Anatoly, by five years, two years younger then Dominic and the same age as Hugo but by now they are the young ones and she is far older than they will get to be for a very long time yet. They are in their prime, as far as their ageing is concerned, all of them in their sixties and their sixties meaning to them not at all what her sixties mean to Vincent.

Childhood, teens, young adulthood, adulthood, late adulthood, elderly.

The six ages of life and the common divide accepted for races, as watched over by the Goddess and Ianna both, the Goddess because all of creation is hers to look after and Ianna because she was a witch healer that Ascended, became the goddess who watches over the domain of preserving life and easing the effects of the natural passing of time.

(Rome prays to Ianna plenty, on Vincent's behalf, because Vincent will look after herself but she won't pray, has never prayed since the child she had once been was lost and Vincent herself was born of the violent, murky Wild that was left in her stead.)

Physically, the gods have deemed it just and fair that they all age the same in their early years, hitting physical landmarks at around the same times until they get to eighteen, at which point the ageing rate slows down for shifters and witches, at different degrees, and stays the same for humans.

Childhood for humans lasts from their birth to their twelve years of age but a shifter is considered a child until they are fourteen and for witches it depends from bloodline to bloodline though it is generally agreed not to last more than eleven years old.

Human teens are so from their twelve birthday to their nineteenth and then they enter their young adult years and stay in them until they hit their thirtieth year. They are adults from their thirtieth year to their fiftieth and that's when they enter the late adulthood phase of their life, dovetailing into the elderly category on their seventieth birthday.

Witches are considered teens, again with some leeway depending on bloodline, from their eleventh birthday to their nineteenth, because witches are born knowing the Truth Of The World and that ages them differently, just as their magic does develop differently than a shifter's abilities do. Once they mature out of their teens, however, that's when witches ages start to stretch out exponentially. A witch is considered a young adult from their nineteenth birthday to their ninetieth and an adult from that one to their two hundredths. They count as late adults from two hundred to two hundred and seventy years of age and then from that one until their death they are considered to be elderly. Most of them get to elderly easily, witches being very good at keeping their lifespan intact.

Rome in their sixties is still a young adult, his brain chemistry still in the same phase Vincent's was when she was in her twenties. Vincent in her sixties is in the place Rome will be when they get past two hundred by a couple of decades.

(She wishes she could be around to see it, to share it with all of them, with her husband Roman and her best friend Roma and with her equal best friend Rome, but not so much that she would do anything that would require her to give up her humanity for it. She is, and always has been, human, technical definitions and unasked for interventions be fucking damned. It has always been her choice. It will always be her choice.)

Shifters are somewhat more even than witches when it comes to their lives. They consider their own to be teens from their fourteenth year to their twenty-fifth, young adults from their twenty-fifth to their seventieth birthday, adults from the age of seventy to the age of one twenty, late adults from then to their one hundred and seventy birthday and elderly for the last thirty years of their life.

It seems to be a theme, to leave elderly age for the last three decades of one's life. It is at least treated about the same in all three races.

(It is another reason why empty quarters are considered to be practically humans, along with the fact that they do have none of the physical gifts actual shifters are born with to go with all of the instincts they are supposed to be born with. Empty quarters age as humans do whereas quarter blood age as shifters do and have the gifts to go with the instincts.

It's one of the ways Vincent has been able to grind her humanity in the face of any shifter who tried to deny her the truth of her choice.

If she'd been one of them, as they insisted if she'd been as good as she was because she was part of a superior breed as most of the ones from the Lands believes themselves to be, she'd have the ageing and the natural abilities wouldn't she? She doesn't and she's not and she's all the better as she is. She's fucking damn perfect as she is and they can choke on it and on her still bench pressing Hugo and still outshooting any of those who tried to show her up, even in her sixties and needing glasses to read things up close.

Fuck the lot of them and their assumptions that she'd have to be anything more than human to be who she is and as good as she is. Collective fucking represents, assholes.)

Vincent is a late adult to her husband's young adults and while they all met in their twenties and they've been together since and their ages are all close chronologically, by now she's basically cradle robbing if you went by comparative ages and developmental levels.

Those two factors are why there are so many shifters who don't settle down until they hit their late eighties and why so many inter-races romances have what look like heavy age differentials that are actually inexistent from a developmental level. A shifter in their one hundred and fifties would be around the same mental age Vincent is now and that's why most of them settle down and marry old with chronologically much younger humans. Witches who decide to settle down are pretty much the same, choosing partners with huge age differentials that actually mean very little when it comes to maturity levels.

She doesn't mind and she certainly won't give up any of her husbands, nor would they let her give them up either, but it does mean that she is older than the lot of them and that she worries for how they'll react to her inevitable decline and death. They are all far too invested in each other and they have all refused to let Vincent be anything but the lynchpin of their worlds.

Once Khage takes her away, they will fall apart and it pisses Vincent off that she won't be able to prevent it, that she won't be there for them, that she'll be trapped in Khage's hands and kept from them, able to witness their grief through the waters of the Fields but unable to do shit all about it. It has always pissed her off, will never stop pissing her off.

It's why she signs off on the funding and the secrecy qualification for Mar's Great Equalizer project, when it was brought up to her attention.

She won't give up her humanity.

That does not mean that she'll let Khage take her away without a bloody fucking fight.

#Jhae's original material #words words words #February 9th 2020 #Big Damn Table for Vincent #my writing #my original writing #my ocs #Vincent Bolton #Here's To Us 'Verse

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clairelutra · 5 years

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stars are falling all for us (1/1)

Summary: In which Noctis saves Luna. Ageswap!AU

(ao3 link)

When Noctis met Lady Lunafreya of Tenebrae, she was eight, and he was twelve.

He'd thought she was kind of weird at first, with her too-formal way of talking and her somber stare and her talk of Kings and Oracles and destinies, but then he'd decided to call her 'Luna' and it had made her giggle, and a piece of her had lodged itself so deep in his heart he'd never dig it back out again.

Not that he'd tried much.

The thing was... the Oracle was invincible. The Oracle was a child prodigy who pulled off miracle after feat after triumph, otherworldly magic and worldly salvation poured into the shell of a young girl. The Oracle had awakened Shiva when she was ten, had begun traveling to cure the Scourge when she was twelve, had become a public figurehead when she was fourteen.

In the eyes of the world, the Oracle wasn't quite human.

But Luna was just a girl.

And it was that Luna that wrote to him in their shared notebook. That Luna was scared of the whole world and forging through it anyway, sometimes confessing her worries in shaky handwriting and apologizing with borders of animal stickers, sometimes sheepishly asking for advice after barely packing a tightly scrawled story within the confines of the paper, sometimes covering her whole page with sketched flowers and mountains and people and letting her innocent musings and gentle poetry weave through the cracks.

She was delicate and precious and vulnerable and it drove him up the wall that no one else seemed to see it—or care.

But if advising her and cheerleading her in secret helped, he could do that. If she needed consoling or reassuring or sympathy, he could do that too. If offering to kick the ass of anyone who made her sad meant that he was offering to take on the whole world for her, well...

Someone had to do it.

But for eight long years, he was an ocean away. Words were all he had to give her, and the pain of helplessness set up shop right over that piece of her. She deserved all the good things in the world, deserved to be cherished and protected until she was ready, and if he could switch places her, he would do it in a heartbeat. If he could join her quest to keep her safe then that was all he dreamed of. If he could pay a price for her to wake up somewhere safe and warm with no prophesies or duties or pain to weigh on her slight shoulders, he'd have paid it ages ago.

And that was why he was so profoundly relieved to learn that they'd gotten engaged. Sure, it'd be on paper more than anything else, but even if he barely ever saw her, he could still do things like send the Kingsglaive with her, pay her way to better hotels, and make sure she had decent food on the road.

All he had to do was get to Altissia.

And then everything went to shit.

He wasn't quite paying as much attention as he probably should be to his battle with a literal god, but the altar where Luna stood was crumbling with every one of the Hydrean's brutal passes and he was milliseconds from warping down there, grabbing her, and getting the hell out, city be damned.

(The flicker of the look on her face when she'd met his eyes after her speech was still stuck in his mind—heartbreak and resignation and gratitude—and it was making him want to crawl out of his skin.)

But she was standing, standing, bleeding but standing, and there was a rampaging Astral in front of him who wasn't listening and technically he had bigger problems.

And then she wasn't standing anymore, stumbling to her knees and stilling, and Noctis went cold all over.

He was warping down before he'd made the conscious choice to do so.

A blink between and she was in her arms, unbearably fragile and terrifyingly cold.

"Noctis? The Hydrean—"

But Noctis was looking behind her.

"My, my. Saving the girl instead of the city? How downright heroic of you."

Ardyn, with all his slime and crooked edges and unscrupulous leers, was entirely too close to Luna, Noctis decided. That he was getting closer was untenable.

"Now what kind of look is that? I'm only here to he—"

Ultima materialized in Noctis's palm, the tip pointed at Ardyn's throat as close to the jugular as Noctis could manage with numb, slippery fingers and shaking hands.

The smile on Ardyn's face froze, then slunk away. "Tetchy, are we?"

"Get lost."

"Now—"

"Get. Lost."

Luna let her nose dip into the crook of Noctis's neck, her hands feebly fisting in the material of his shirt, silent and trusting.

There was a long moment in which Ardyn wasn't smiling at all, and the cold, calculating look it left behind was almost comforting in its honesty. It said that he was sizing up how easy it would be to kill them, and whether it would be worth it in the end.

That was okay. Noctis was analyzing what Ardyn's fighting style might be like and running through possible ways to get Luna to solid, unwrecked ground so he could fight without worry.

Then the tension released, Ardyn's oily leer making a reappearance as he rocked back on his heels. "Then might I offer the happy couple my congratulations?"

"No."

A flicker of irritation. "A few words of advice then."

"No." Noctis bared his teeth. "Get lost."

Ardyn shrugged it off in a too-graceful motion. "Have it your way, I suppose."

Noctis didn't lower his sword until Ardyn had reboarded the Niflheim ship and the whine of the engines had faded into the crashing waves.

"Hey," he said as soon as he could breathe again. "You okay?"

Up this close, it was obvious to anyone who cared to look that Luna wasn't. Even below the new pallor, her eyes were fever-glassy, her grasp painfully weak. Her own breathing rasped, sitting like her body didn't want to hold her up anymore.

"Leviathan—" she started, then blinked and gave her head a little shake. Behind them, the waves claimed another few of the altar's stones. "No, the— the ring. Your father sent me to deliver the ring."

The ring.

Noctis felt sick.

The Ring of Lucii. The ring that no one but Lucian royalty was supposed to wear, that smited all others—if Luna had been carrying it since Insomnia went down...

She fumbled a chain from around her neck, pulling it over her head and setting its makeshift pendant, the thick-banded ring Noctis had seen on his father's hand all his life, in her open palm. On some metaphysical level, it smelled like death.

Death that was connected to the Oracle's magic, and slowly but surely siphoning it away and taking her lifeforce with it.

Noctis picked up the ring, unceremoniously snapped the chain, and jammed it on his finger, shoving his own magic into it to sever the link.

The results were immediate.

First and foremost, Noctis had an intense urge to go take a nap. The demands of the ring settled under his skin like a cool mist, a gentle downer. It took him a minute to adjust to it, the press of other on his brainstem only coming to bear once the sleepiness had passed—and that was an unpleasant ordeal all on its own.

In the time it took Noctis to acclimate to that, Luna started breathing easier. It was impossible to miss it up this close. How much of it was because he'd taken the ring and how much of it was because the seas had calmed, he didn't know—

—because the seas had calmed. Leviathan had traded city-wrecking for just hovering above the altar, inscrutable.

Then she spoke, that screeching-grinding-otherworldly language of the Astrals, and Noctis was the one burying his face in the crook of Luna's neck this time, a splitting headache crashing over him in the waves Leviathan was known for.

And then it was over, and Luna had just enough time to shout a thank you! at the goddess before she was gone.

The tempest subsided, indiscriminately dropping boats and debris alike into the water.

"...Ow," said Noctis plainly.

The delicate shoulder that pressed against his nose shook with laughter. Quiet laughter, but clear laughter. Already her lungs sounded better.

He raised his head, and—

She was smiling. Dark eyelashes beaded with seawater, blonde hair plastered against her forehead and temples, full mouth resting in the happy curve it was just made for.

—and he wanted to cry.

"You're okay," he said, his voice cracking as the realization hit his numb chest in full.

"I am," she murmured, rasping but reassuring.

"You're okay," he repeated, trying to convince himself because this was all so real and yet not real at all. He cupped her face, feeling the soft give of her cheeks, the strength of the muscles in her jaw, the solid reality of the bone below it—she felt real. "You're okay," he marveled.

"Mhm," she agreed, her smile taking a turn for the fond.

The tears barely stopped as a lump in his throat before they were blurring his vision and making hot tracks down his cheeks through the wet chill.

He brought their foreheads together so he could feel the hot rush of her breath on his face, see those eyes up close. His voice broke into a whisper when he said, "You're okay."

There was a subtle strength coming back into her delicate fingers, and he could feel it when she reached up to curl them around his wrist. "And so are you."

And so they were.

She'd grown during the ten years he'd spent in the crystal.

Obviously—she was twenty-six now, not sixteen. If Prompto and Gladio and Ignis had changed and matured in the past decade, then it could only be expected that she would double it.

It still put a funny swoop in his stomach to see her like this, grounded and graceful and steady.

"You're staring," she noted with a musical lilt.

Noctis flinched, flustered. Power and wisdom of a hundred late kings and he still got shy around her. Smiling sheepishly, and he said, "You're... pretty nice to stare at."

It made her blush, and the sight sank into his heart about as much as his ego.

It was a quiet moment in the middle of the rebuilding efforts—one of those moments when he could slip into the apartment across from his and watch Luna press flowers or help her clean her counters or play human pillow while she napped—and it was in this particular moment that it occurred to him that... there was no reason why he couldn't kiss her.

Aside from the bit where she was all the way across the table from him and it would be a lot of work to get up and walk around to her side, but in general. In the spirit of it.

And in the spirit of that...

"We should get married," he decided, apropos of nothing.

She paused, paper-thin sylleblossom held halfway between the press and the big paper envelope where she was keeping them until she got a better storage case. "Pardon?"

Aw hell, even if kissing her wasn't jumping the gun, this definitely was. "I mean." He cleared his throat. "We're still engaged, aren't we?"

"That was not our choice," she said, bemused. Which was probably a clear enough answer on its own. "And the point of it is rather defeated at this point, is it not?"

"...Yeah, I guess." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as she put the pressed sylleblossom away. He didn't really want to give this up without getting a clear no, but what could he say?

Luna spoke again before he could decide. Blushing rosy enough to match the pink carnation in her hand, she confessed, "I... I think I'd rather like to marry you though, if you found it agreeable."

"Yeah?" Noctis rose out of his chair. Suddenly, he found that it was worth the effort of walking to her side of the table for the sake of kissing her. Weird how these things happened.

She nodded, flushing a little deeper. She was always beautiful, but he could watch the little crease at the corner of her mouth for hours right now. "It... it would put the people's minds at ease if you were to take a queen, after all, and a wedding might be just the thing to lift their spirits in a time like this."

He half-leaned, half-sat against the edge of the table next to her chair. "That's pretty... rational."

She nodded, a slow, tiny motion, her fingers curling on the worn, polished wood of the old table as she stared at them like they held the secrets of the universe.

Not that the view from here wasn't pretty nice, but he wanted to see her face, and it gave him the perfect excuse to touch her. Trailing his knuckles over the curve of her jaw, he encouraged her to look up at him. "...Can I still kiss you?"

That corner of her mouth jumped into a shy smile. "...If it would please you."

If the words in themselves were cool, then the eager, almost possessive way her arms circled around his neck to yank him closer sure wasn't, her nails scratching his back through his thin t-shirt and her cheek warm in his palm.

Warm, warm, warm and heady, seductive in its innocence and calming in its fervor. It had him bracing his weight against the back of her chair before long, and then on the table too, that piece of her in his chest heavy and aching and needing and singing.

"All those years ago... I was so excited to marry you," she whispered between kisses. "I think the servants must have become quite sick of me by the time came, I could talk of little else. I... I loved you so, and I was f-finally going to see you again, and it was like this. I only wished..."

"Only wished what?" he asked in a croak. Maybe he'd give her anything she asked right now, anything at all, but that wasn't special. That was just a given.

He wanted a bed. Not for sex, just so he could wrap her in a million blankets and protect her from everything that came her way, But then, that was just a given, too.

The smile was back again, and he could taste it this time. "Only wished that you had been the one to ask me."

Of all the—

He pulled back as far as she would let him so he could squint at her.

She diverted her eyes, flushing deeper again. She looked distractingly kissed.

There was really only one reply he could give to that.

"Hey Luna," he breathed, resting his forehead against hers. "Will you marry me?"

It was unfair how delighted she looked. He was almost tempted to ask again.

"Yes," she breathed.

"Good," he said fervently, and kissed her again.

#lunoct #ffxv #lunafreya nox fleuret #noctis lucis caelum #final fantasy xv #my fic #belated crosspost #see ao3 posting for real commentary lmao

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kuriquinn · 6 years

Text

Sex Ed [1/5]

Blanket Fic Disclaimer

Summary: Raising a teenage daughter in a modern world is no small feat. For some reason, Sasuke always ends up being the one having to deal with the hard questions...and the most awkward situations.

Author’s Note: So, I had this really weird dream last night, and just had to sit down and write it down. It takes place in my crackish ANBU ‘verse. Parts 2-5 of this actually will fill a few prompts I got a while back, so it works out neatly.

Beta Reader: None yet. I’ll edit it when the whole thing is finished, and then post it as a one-shot on Ao3 and ffnet.

Warnings: M for mature subject matter being discussed and comrpomising positions that certain characters may or may not be caught in. Also, I don’t particularly ship Sarada with anyone, so over the course of this fic I pretty much stuck a bunch of names in a hat when I needed someone and went with whatever I pulled out. It made things...interesting, to say the least.

Sasuke Uchiha sits at his kitchen table, tools and rags spread before him as he examined the blade of his katana. There are several nicks near the tip that have inexplicably appeared since he last used it, and he frowns, drying to decide: Sarada or Boruto.

Between his student and his daughter he’s surprised he has any weapons left in the house, let alone slightly damaged ones.

They were taught better than this, he grumbles to himself and adjusts his glasses.

(He’s only wearing them because he’s trying to preserve the strength of his dōjutsu for the next time alien ogres attack. It has nothing to do with the fact Sakura mentioned something about finding him ‘sexy in specs’.)

SLAM!

Sasuke immediately whips his glasses off and stows them under a rag lest his sixteen-year-old daughter see him wearing them and start asking about his eyesight. At least, it has to be Sarada, judging by the not-so-dulcet stomping. She’s in her combat boot phase.

“I hate being an Uchiha!” she screams at the top of her lungs, stalking past the kitchen and down the hall. There’s another slam of the door, this time much stronger; the foundations of the house rattle, and Sasuke physically braces in case he has to make a quick escape out the window.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

When dust settles and windows stop vibrating, Sasuke takes a moment to contemplate what drama has impacted her remarkably danger-free and privileged life this time. Sarada has been more prone to bursts of temper in the past few years, the cause of which can range from Boruto making a particular fool out of their team to the lack of pockets in women’s clothing.

(He completely agrees with her on the latter; what function do fake pockets serve? Where’s a kunoichi supposed to store her shuriken?)

As usual, he debates the merits of going to check on her or waiting for her to seek him out. On the one hand, she’s his little girl and he wants to deal swiftly with anything that upsets her. On the other, he remembers Sakura at that age, and the broken bones that came along with incorrectly deciphering her tempers.

Best to wait. She’ll come out when she’s calmed down.

Like her mother, she isn’t shy about sharing how she really feels about things.

And so, Sasuke gets up and boils some water, then surreptitiously opens a new packet of black tea and cardamom biscuits on the table. Fifteen minutes later, as he steeps his own cup of tea, he hears the door to her room open and her stomp—quieter now, it seems she’s removed the boots—as she returns to the kitchen. Her face is flushed and eyes rimmed red with frustration as she slumps to the table, sits and picks up a biscuit.

She doesn’t eat it, though, so he assumes this is a more serious case than usual.

Just as he wonders if he should provide an opening line for her, she speaks.

“Papa,” she starts, not meeting his gaze and shifting uncomfortably. Classic embarrassed behaviour. Coupled with her vocal denouncement of her entire family earlier, he wonders if she’s been dealing with bullies again and who he has to pay a not-so-friendly visit to tonight. “Have you ever…I mean…did it ever happen that…did you ever accidentally…”

He takes a sip of tea, because the flustered stuttering sometimes takes a while.

“—usegenjutsuonsomeoneyouweremakingoutwith?”

The scalding tea promptly goes down the wrong tube.

Sasuke chokes and splutters in pain, eyes bugging out at Sarada in shock, because that is the absolute last question he ever expected from her.

She goes, if possible, redder than before and looks at her lap.

“I’d ask Mom, but that’d be kind of…she gets way too technical,” she trails off with a shudder. “Also, you’re the only one with a Sharingan I can ask. At least without it getting creepy, because I’m pretty sure if I asked Uncle Kakashi he’d just make me read one of those novels of his, but I already have, and none of them ever has anything to do with accidentally using genjutsu when you kiss someone.” Sasuke opens his mouth, but the words get stuck. Sarada doesn’t notice and just keeps talking. “And it’s just so frustrating, because the whole point of making out is that it’s just you and the other person and your thoughts are supposed to be out of control, but the minute I let go of my control, my stupid Sharingan took over, and the minute he looked at me, it was all over, and I just…how am I supposed to control that when I’m—”

“Stop,” Sasuke rasps, holding up a hand.

He doesn’t want to hear this. He should not be hearing this. And yet, it’s better that she’s being open with him, right? And he is the only person with a Sharingan she can ask. Even if he never accidentally used genjutsu on Sakura when they were…intimate.

Any use of genjutsu was entirely planned out and consensual.

Not that his daughter needs to know that.

Ever.

This is just…what did she say? ‘Making out?’ Making out is what, kissing? Clothes stay on. That’s not so bad. Unless he’s been out of the loop for so long it means something else. Then it’s bad. Then he might just have to kill someone.

No, best not think of that. Sarada can do her own killing. He just has to be around to dispose of the body. On that note—

“Who?” he asks.

She narrows her eyes. “Why?”

Clearly knows his previous line of thought.

“So I can tell if they’ll be brain damaged by the genjutsu. Yours is stronger than most.”

“Oh. Oh!” Now she looks worried. “You don’t think I broke Shikadai’s brain, do you? His mom would kill me if I did that.”

Shikadai. Nara’s kid. Decent genjutsu abilities, off-the charts intelligence, doesn’t like cheating and, according to Sakura’s stories, has always treated Sarada with respect.

Well, it’s not as bad as it could be.

“No, he’ll probably be fine. You dispelled the jutsu?”

“After I figured out what happened, yeah.”

“Good.”

“He was not happy with me. As if it was my plan for that to happen? Shannaro!”

Might have to talk to Shikamaru about training him better. The kid must have been really caught off-guard if he couldn’t stop Sarada’s genjutsu.

The activity that must have caused that off-guardedness makes Sasuke pick up his sword again, but now he stares at it, unseeing.

“So how do I make it stop?

He blinks. “What?”

“The genjutsu thing. How do I not activate it…you know. During?”

“Don’t ‘make out’ with boys,” he says before he can think it through. He almost uses damn air quotes.

Sarada looks thoughtful. “Okay. Girls it is then.”

Sasuke drops his sword and stares at her, because that is not what he meant at all!

But Sarada is grinning at him.

“Just kidding, Dad,” she laughs. “I know you mean it’s something I have to get control of so it doesn’t control me before I try again. It’s what you’re always saying, right?”

“About combat,” he grunts. Not…amorous pursuits. “This is…” He swallows painfully as a sudden thought occurs to him. “Sarada…do you and I need to have the Talk?”

“Oh, gods no,” she wrinkles her nose. “Mom handled that when I was six. Unless you’ve got something to add from a non-medical perspective?”

“No,” he says immediately. “Nothing.”

“Okay. Thanks!” she beams, popping the uneaten cookie in her mouth, before taking a handful of others and prancing back to her room. Crisis averted, apparently.

Sasuke stares after her and then realises he has been tearing the oil rag into bits in his hands.

It’s been fourteen years since he made himself a very serious vow, but it doesn’t matter just then.

“I need a drink.”

つづく

Thanks for reading my story! To find out more about supporting my writing endeavours, or just donating to the fund that helps feed my three furry overlords, I have a tip jar on ko-fi and a patreon account.

All the best!

クリ

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#naruto fanfic #sssfamily #sasuke uchiha #sarada uchiha #awkward!dad #papasuke #humor #fluff #sasusaku #anbu verse #embarrasing predicament #i don't even know #crack fic #sex positive upbringing #i think sarada inherited her father's ineptitude for sexy times...

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beastofeasto-blog · 5 years

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GENERIC JAPANESE PUN AND/OR OBVIOUS CULTURAL REFERENCE: My Experiences At Hyper Japan

The people at Hyper Japan, which ran from Friday until today, ranged from a duo dressed as the twins from Ouran Highschool Host Club, Godzilla himself (whose terrible hand I had the pleasure of shaking), and dozens of people wearing meme t-shirts. So far, so MCM. What set Hyper Japan apart from a more usual celebration of mangakas and mecha were the somewhat terrifying woman in johdpurs from the Tea Authority, a room dedicated to over a hundred different types of sake, beer and spirits, and the significant attention paid to Japanese craftsmanship.

But of course, since this is after all a food blog, let's talk about the food. At the very beginning, I was collected from the front desk by two charming women from Fourteen Ten. We headed immediately to The Ramen Experience, where I was given a choice between shoryu, paitan and tonkotsu style ramen, and a chance to sample all three before deciding on which one I was to have in my bowl. Each comes from a different region, and each is distinct in flavour and mouthfeel. Shoryu, or soy sauce, was rich and roasty, effortlessly smooth and slightly sweet. Paitan, which, on the website was described as a chicken-based soup, was in person labelled as seafood stock. Either way, it was remarkably unfishy, and had a prominent, pleasant taste of both fresh and roast garlic. Tonkotsu is the neighbourhood darling style, a milky-cloudy broth made by cooking bones and feet for dozens of hours. A good tonkotsu should be gutsy, slightly thick, impossibly creamy and pure tasting. While the one I tasted was perfectly adequate, it did not live up to my expectations about what tonkotsu ought to be. As a result, I had a delicious bowl of shoryu ramen, with both gari, aka pickled ginger, and something that tasted like yacai, Szechuan pickled mustard greens (sour, slightly funky, a little bitter and lightly spicy) and along with the obligatory slice of chasu. Despite that the noodles lacked much of a bounce or snap, and the chasu wasn't fatty enough for my taste, it was a bowl worth finishing. That sounds like a lot of criticism mixed in with some faint praise, but no, outside of a couple stylistic choices, it was a bowl I'd be more than happy with at a restaurant, and would have been proud to make at home (I've tried making ramen. I've followed Binging with Babish's method, J Kenji Lopez Alt's version, and the edition found in Japanese Cooking: A Simple Art, whose title is possibly the biggest lie ever told. All of them were difficult, all of them were an obscene amount of work, all of them were frankly not worth the effort. If I find a method that works and doesn't make you want to die, I'll be sure to let you know.)

After that, the Fourteen Ten people let me loose on the stalls. I wandered past a woman selling EGL (Elegant Gothic Lolita) fashion, several weapons salesmen and a very busy stall selling manga both in the original and translated. Nearby, there were tables groaning with dolls and plushies, and there, over the way, were dakikamura, or body pillows, featuring characters from the Boku No Hero Academia anime. On the main floor, there was a condensed area where Japanese designers, artists, and craftspeople sold beautiful things, such as calligraphy, immaculate flowers made of silk, and shamiasen, traditional stringed instruments. I asked the person running the shamiasen stall if I could touch, and she leaned forward, rested a single finger on its body, and gave me a thumbs up. In short: no. I managed to get (very brief!) interviews with four different stallholders. I felt that since I was there, I might as well go do some journalism. I got brief peeks into the minds of two artisans, and one of the husband-and-wife teams selling swords, axes, and blades of all kinds:

The weapons sellers, Lee and Catherine, used to be in the business of selling replica toy handguns, until the law changed (presumably following the Dunblane massacre but neither mentioned it and nor did I). When that happened, it made replica guns a lot harder to sell. So instead, they moved on to selling swords, and especially movie replicas. It only made business sense for them to go to Comicon. Catherine's favourite is a massive bastard from World of Warcraft, while Lee favour's LOTR's Andruil. They don't think that any of their wares ought to be used for anything other than ornamental purposes, though you could technically use them for bushcraft.

The next pair I spoke to were Tomoko Kuroda, and her friend Yuko. Since their design heavily featured a pair of cats, one black, one white, named Alain and Jean, I asked whether they belonged to them, and about their personalities. While Alain and Jean aren't their real names, they are indeed their cats, and the characters of the globetrotting gatos – ones that are “curious and fickle, but very fussy with their travel items”. have existed for two years. Kuroda collaboarated with the famous artist/illustrator called Masako Hirano. A fact about each cat is that Alain is very interested about everything and very positive, while Jean is sensitive and naive, and likes to study hard. However, according to the info card I received, “Our effort to analyse their psyche might be pointless but this is our pleasure and mission nevertheless. This interpretation of the world seen by cats' eyes is our unique brand story.” Here, here!

You can find their e-boutique here.

While many people have heard of origami, comparatively few know about kirigami. I had the privilege of speaking to Susumu Yamayoka, who won the Grand Prize for the Charming Japanese Souvenir Contest back in 2011 for his City Postcard kirigami series. Kirigami is the art of paper-cutout. Yamayoka's series celebrated traditional Japanese scenes in aching, intricate detail – unsurprising, since Yamayoka told me that he's been doing papercraft for the last two decades. It took Yamayoka two months to design four postcards.His website is here

While there were many other stallholders, demonstrating mastery in mulberry-paper bookbinding, and watercolours, I did not have time to interview them all.

Then, I made a nice trip into the grimy speakeasy at Hyper Japan known as The Sake Experience. You rocked up, received about sixteen drinks tickets and two snacks tickets, and waddled around from table groaning with artisanal handmade drinks to table groaning with artisanal handmade drinks. Now, for those who've not had a sake experience, let alone The one; sake is a fermented rice beverage with a taste that uninitiated westerners may find quite unfamiliar. A good way to describe it is “like a grassier, fruitier dry sherry”, but since there are as many styles and traditions in sake brewing as there are in, say, French winemaking, the description I gave is insufficient. Another point about sake is that it can be drunk hot or cold. I remember saying when I was fourteen, having tasted my first hot sake, I said it tasted like “warm, unminty mouthwash”. It probably wasn't good stuff, but, as with many things, it's an acquired taste. I imagine that a mug of warm sake on a howling and bitterly cold Nagoya night would be comforting. As for the process of making sake, it involves inoculating cooked rice with Aspergillus oryzae, known in Japanese as koji, a fungus that transforms starches and sugars found in rice into alcohols. It's absolutely nothing to be afraid of, it's the rice edition of our homegrown hero, Saccharomyces cerevisiae, without whose noble efforts we'd never slug down a sixpack of PBR again – not that PBR has much of a future in our world. Cooked rice, koji, water, yeast and lactic acid are combined – at least in sake-houses that forsook the old way of doing things, where the rice and koji mixture is pounded to a paste – and the resultant mixture fermented. This is then pressed to remove unfermented solids, filtered once more, and then left to mature, like one would with wine.

For absolute beginners, I would suggest investing in a bottle of Shochikubai Shirakabegura Mio Sparkling Sake, not just because it doesn't have that much of a challenging koji flavour, but because it's significantly nicer than cat piss cava or bland prosecco. It has a gentle fragrance, is just the right side of sweet, and the carbonation adds both a sour note and makes it feel more refreshing. It isn't brut like champagne, more, a gentle, friendly face to pick up for a pleasant night in. I had the luck of picking up a bottle for £4 at the event – they were practically giving it away.

For those still a bit too afraid, there are a wide variety of Japanese fruit liqueurs. These often aren't like schnapps or are lighter fluid with a few drops of synthetic peach essence. Many Japanese fruit liqueurs, such as umeshu, have an ABV of about 12%. Umeshu is made by soaking whole green plums in grain alcohol, which is consequently watered down and sweetened. A different liqueur that I had the pleasure of drinking at Hyper Japan was Yomeishu Pink Grapefruit and Ginger (top); “precisely what it says on the tin!”, according to my tasting notes; a lusciously smooth and mild bev, tasting of real – if candy-sweet – fruit, like a boozier, top-quality alcopop. It was only later that I discovered that Yomeishu's flagship is a TCM (I use the “C” here generically) herb liqueur containing, of all things, the processed skin and organs of the mamushi pit viper, Gloydius blomhoffii. Unfortunately, I did not taste the snake tonic since it wasn't on offer, but had it been, I would probably have declined because I don't want to drink snakies. Nevertheless, snake-flaying aside, the good brewers at Yomeishu can make a lovely drink. The one umeshu I sampled , Urakasumi (buttom), was “bracing[ly] plummy” with an “almond bitter aftertaste”. As I don't have considerable umeshu experience, it was perfectly nice.

There were other types of sake on offer, such as the Yamabuki Gold, an aged sake, or koshu. The difference between a younger sake and a koshu is rather like a tequila blanco and añejo: the aged edition acquires a bronzeish colour and a deeper, often honeyish taste. I described the 7-time-in-a-row International Wine Challenge gold winner as having a “burnt toffee” character, “hypersmooth”, and with a “savoury aftertaste.”

On the complete opposite end of the spectrum was the Junmai Ginjo Sachihime Dear My Princess, charmingly subtitled in block capitals with ALL THE BEST WISHES FOR YOUR FUTURE LIFE. I described the unpasteurized sake from what is apparently the smallest brewery in the Saga prefecture (found on Kyushu, the southern island making up Japan proper) as “sweet, creamy, esteric and smooth.” Following some basic research into sake tasting terminology, this “esteric”- or “fruity” quality is also known as ginjo, which is the resulting fragrance from the slow and low fermentation of rice whose exterior is mostly removed. Two compounds that contribute to ginjo fragrance are isoamyl acetate, well known to any brewers in the audience to being one part of the duo in many Hefeweizens, the other being clove. Due to my experiencing isoamy acetate almost always in conjunction with the phenolic compounds that made up clove, I iniitally had written down “phenolic” instead of “esteric”, and then had second thoughts as I noticed more classical fruit elements evolve, such as ethyl caproate – another ginjo component – which is common in many fruits, including apple and pineapple.

There were, oddly enough, what appeared to be luxury bottled tea., from the imaginatively named The Tea Company. It's here where I ran into the absurdly fashionable and intimidating woman from the Tea Authority. She recommended the Thé D'Or Gyokuro, which turned out to have “excellent clean bitterness”. It was a “very green” green tea, with a pleasing “sprightly slight salinity”. I preferred, however, the Ibushi, from the same label: it “tickles the throat”, had “topnotes of fruit, then smoke and malt”, and was “silken, bitter, refreshing and savoury”. The tea used to make the Ibushi was apparently smoked over Japanese cypress. Do I approve of bottled tea costing between £11 and £30 per bottle? I honestly have to say, even if it was absolutely delicious tea, that I can't.

Finally, there were two spirits I tried. One was the Satsuma Shiranami, which is a spirit made from sweet potato- and it sure tasted of it: “earthy, nutty, popped rice, sweet but not sugary, and filling” is how I described it. This would in my mind be a fantastic addition to a hot toddy or pre-Christmas lunch drinks. The second is something I don't anticipate many of you ambling out of your wells to get, but I'll rec it anyway: the Kyoya Shuzo Yuzugin, combines two things that unsettle many people: gin, our proudest spirit, and Japanese botanicals, which can not be to everybody's tastes. Unsurprisingly, it had a deep, floral, long-lasting yuzu fragrance, and remarkably, I noticed a light tongue-buzz feeling, due to the sansho peppercorn. I won't fully get into this now, but the short is that the fruit of the Zanthoxylum trees produce compounds called sanshools, which give an anaesthetic, electrocuting, tingling, numbing sensation, most prevalent in Szechuan cooking, and one that I adore. Sansho peppercorn is Z. piperitum while good ol' Szechuan peppercorn is Z. simulans or bungeanum. While overall I can see more applications for the Satsuma Shiranami, not just in drinks, but as a nice thing to spin around a highball glass while relaxing, as one does when one is 23, if you like both yuzu and gin, and manage to find a bottle, go get it. Also, the bottle's pretty.

In the drunken stupour that tends to accompany having too many small drinks, I stepped outside and saw a stand selling three of my favourite Japanese snacks: takoyaki, sweet potato korroke and karaage. I got three for three, and sat down heavily in a chair, and watched the crowd pass me by as I had my snacks. Takoyaki is an orbular delicate wheat pancake, filled with chopped octopus. Mine were decorated traditionally, with aonori, aka green laver, mayonnaise and a sweet-savoury glaze made from Worcestershire sauce and reduced sake, soy sauce, mirin, kombu, and katsuoboshi (shaved dried bonito tuna). I like them because they have a wonderfully crunchy outside, and the inside is still kinda like a just-underset egg yolk or slightly underdone pancake batter, or a bechamel sauce. I think it's obscenely delicious, and was thankful at the paucity of octopus bits in the ones they gave me.

Karaage is a deep frying technique different from the better known tempura. In karaage, marinated pieces of meat, most usually chicken, are tossed in potato starch and deep fried until crispy. These had a crusty, gloriously msg-laden shell with tender pieces within. The crust had big crumbs in it, lending a nice variation in texture.

Korokke is a Japonification of “croquette”, where usually mashed potato is stuffed with a filling, rolled in panko, and deep fried. These ones were pure sweet potato, and utterly fantastic. I have a long-held suspicion that the Japanese sweet potato cultivars tower head and shoulders above those grown anywhere else. They tend to have the most amazing chestnutty taste and yielding texture. These were no exception. The korokke were “fudgy” and satisfying, the panko crust so ethereal, it might not have even been there. Of the three fried snacks, they were without a doubt my favourite.

In short, I did not eat or drink one thing on Friday that wasn't delicious, and there were a few that were completely exceptional.

As I walked back from Kensington Olympia to take the bus home, I thought about how I'd been exposed to so many different aspects of the culture of another somewhat strange, tea-obsessed island, and how valuable it was that events like Hyper Japan are put on; raising awareness in not just the more massively marketable aspects of another culture, but their unique traditions also. I had a great time. Since it's now over, I honestly can't wait for the summer one!

#hyperjapan #food #sake #karaage #ramen #bad photo quality #shochu #swords #alain et jean #kirigami

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dbtrilogy2 · 6 years

Text

Im Sorry(24)

Rebecca

Shaking my hair around snatching my glasses off I take a second scoping out the restaurant.

"You beat me here...how embarrassing."

A bitter chuckle leaves my lips. We get a table far from everyone else by my request. He pulled my chair out. I walk around sitting in the next chair.

"Can I start you all with anything?"

"I'll have a beer anything is fine just not lite and...."

"Two shots of Hennessy."

I'm here for one reason and one only. Soon as the waiter left he try's sparking up a conversation.

"New hair I like it."

"Mmhm." I take back my shots soon as their placed down.

"I'm glad you uh agreed to meeting me. Look um I just...I don't even know. You know I love you it was a mistake telling you what I did like that and I most defiantly regret it. To this day I can't get that look of hurt and betrayal you gave me that day. A second chance would be nice since we've been through it all together you had my back before all the money and fame but I know you deserve better so I won't be completely upset if you decide not to you know go with it. Whatever you wanna do I'm for it."

I've prepared for this moment as much as a person can. Mentally yes my mind has already decided fuck him and that island whore get my money take care of my kids. Emotionally on the other hand....after all he's my husband and the father of my kids. We've been together for so long and this is technically the first real bump in our relationship. I want to take him back with open arms but then I think about this whole situation all over again.

"Funny thing is you said something similar before we started therapy. I thought we just needed to talk have someone to be the mediator so things don't get out of hand or to help each other see the other side. Never would I had even began to think it would've reveal things so deep and in only a few visits."

"You know baby I never wanted to go in the first place but like always I made a sacrifice for you. I always put you first babe you mean everything to me."

He reached over taking my hand. Did he really just try to say this is my fault? I sit up straight taking my water in the hand he tried to reach for.

"Were you with her the days you went ghost?" I already knew he was but this was just gonna determined my next move.

"Honestly yes. She's a break from reality for me. I know it's not what you want to hear but if we really are gonna work this out honesty had to be present. "

"Oh what you had some kind of vacation with the woman you cheated on me with. You thought the best way to deal with a marital problem was to spend time with the cause of said problems?" He stutters over his words. "How stupid do you think I am?"

"Baby-"

"No...I don't want to hear any excuse you have I don't want to try and work this out anymore. I'm not gonna be a solo puller in this your not gonna make me look stupid because you no longer love me or your family."

"I do-"

"You don't. So here's what gonna happen I will file and all you need to do is sign your name. You'll see the kids if they want to see you I won't ask for child support or anything like that. I'm wiping my hands with you after basically forcing myself to stick it through for my kids. I refuse to stay when you don't to."

"Camila took chris back I don't understand why we can't just work through this. That's what married couples do they work together." His points at me starting to breath heavier. "Rebecca....baby please I'm begging you."

"You can't compare us to other Carlton. And even if I was to this still would be different because one: he confessed to his mistake right after it happened, two: he worked to right his wrong and most importantly he didn't go back to who he cheated with in fact he basically cut her off out of respect for his wife. If you would've done that like I asked before we hopefully wouldn't be here! God Carlton just be a man for once and own up to what you did."

We sat here for what felt so long. I never would've thought we would be here in this position. It was suppose to be till death do us part. Turns out all it takes is a island witch to do us part.

My phone vibrates from my lap.

Ted:I'm here

"Clearly you have nothing to say so I'm going to be on with the rest of my day." Putting shades on I stand hooking my purse on my arm.

As I walk pass him he pulls on my bag.

"Look I'm sorry things turned out like this."

"Are you really? People who are sorry try to fix what they've done. You didn't come look for me you did call...you ran right into her arms just like she wanted you to. I'm not about to fight a bitch over a dick. If your so called "sorry" prove it but don't waste my time. She so important then stay there." ........ Wiping my face I chuckle. Ted hands me a tissue. "I can't believe I'm still crying over this nigga. It's not worth it he's not worth it. I'm a fucking jewel a one of a kind."

"One can stay for so long. He's your husband father to your children you care and love this man. It's not gonna be a hop and skip to get over a heartbreak and betrayal. It's healthy to release these tears and pain so that you don't bottle it up becoming bitter I don't want that to taint your beauty."

He came by my shop to help with a couple things like lighting and what not. Soon as I got here it's just like I couldn't hold it any longer. I didn't want Carlton to see me like this hell I don't want Ted to see me. But at this moment with how hurt I am I'd rather get it all out over bottling it up. I don't want to become bitter like he said. Then she wins....technically she already has.

Mona

Covering my face I rush into the police station with pissed off parents behind me. The officers in front held off the camera men best they could but these people are just ruthless.

I was discharged from the hospital last night but have to come in today to give my side of what happen and identify who did it. It's so many emotions running through my head I didn't even sleep last night. Just cried and cried. I feel so stupid.

For believing he actually liked me and wanted me. For turning on my own sister. And mostly betraying my parents trust in me. They haven't said much to me since the hospital. After getting the test results back it showed I didn't get anytime of STD or anything but what I was drugged with did some damage to my kidneys. Mom cried more than I did probably hearing that and dad he just looked at me.

"You all can wait here while I get the detectives on your case." The cop sat us in one of those rooms with a two way mirror.

I played with my sleeves nervously.

"Mona after this when we get home I need you to pack some clothes us your gonna stay with your grandparents for a while just until all this dies down. You'll do all your school work online for the rest of this quarter." Dad said speaking for the first time since last night.

I nod wiping my face. Two men in suits come in. One hands me a bottle of apple juice and a donut. "Goodmorning Mr and Mrs Washington. Goodmorning Mona...we hope this to be a quick process so you don't have to be here longer than needed. We've already gotten more than enough eye witnesses who were at the party now we just need some details from you. And please let us know everything and be completely honest."

They say putting a recorder on the table in front of me. "Are you comfortable with your parents being in the room?"

I nod. "Yes."

"Alright let's get right to it. How did you meet the student involved?"

"He's my ex boyfriends older brother. I only saw him when he would come home from college."

"How did the relationship began?"

Both mom and dad sat behind me watching close. "I-I noticed him looking at me when he'd pick up his brother and a few times I would go to their house he would smile and wink at me a lot. I decided to break up with my boyfriend and it just went from there."

"What was the relationship like?"

"Well um it was kept a secret so we mostly hung in his car. He would come to my school during lunch or after cheer practice. I would tell my parents I was with a friend or had detention."

"Ok now parents this may be hard to hear these next few questions but please just keep it together so we can get the answers needed. Now Mona before the events were you two sexually active together?"

They are gonna kill me. "Uh we um...it was only oral. The night at the party was the first time he tried more than that."

"Did you ever feel like you could possibly be in danger anytime with him?"

"No he made me feel mature always telling me how I'm not like girls my age and how different I am. I thought he really had some kind of feelings for me but then he laid it on me that he has a girlfriend. I felt so stupid but stayed...clearly I was doing something she wasn't I was important to him so much that he'd risk his relationship."

"But not his reputation since your relationship was clearly a secret. You didn't think that might've been a wake up call. Your only fourteen what could possibly make you feel like you needed this attention so bad you went looking in the wrong places?" The other detective asked. This was the first thing he's said since walking in.

"I became jealous of my sister I thought everyone liked her more than me then my parents started working a little more than usual. Just me being the spoiled brat I've always been."

"So are you saying your parents basically pushed you into the arms of this predator?"

"No! I'd never say that I lied about everything to them they believed me because well I'm their daughter. My mom tried to I guess patch things up but I ditched our plans."

Just thinking how I cried to her about feeling left out then ditched her. Anything could've happened that night I'd possibly would've never been able to spend time with her ever again.

"Now just tell me about this night in question and how it all reaches the point of you being in the hospital."

As much as I really don't want to relive this I have to.

"Um...my friend and I got picked up from her house by Shawn and a friend of his. We got to the party and it was so many people I felt out of place almost like people could tell I wasn't suppose to be there. He left me to get us drinks basically forcing it down on me. I think I was two or three cups in before I started feeling almost like I was on a boat I couldn't keep my balance for anything."

"You were drunk?"

"Yes and he took me to the kitchen to get more but that's when two of his friends came over and asking what he was doing with me because they recognized me being my parents are famous."

"Were one of the friends a female?"

"Yes she was the one that offered to help me. I don't remember anything after that."

Mom came over holding me against her chest crying. I hugged her back as dad came in.

"I'm sorry...I-I didn't...I didn't know."

"You did great Mona all we need now is for you to confirm who we have is the one responsible."

They took us to a similar room being on the other side.

"I don't even know this girl I met her at the party how was I suppose to know she was underage!!"

He's denying me?

"Look kid there is so much we have on you it's really pointless to deny anything at this point."

"Ok ok I did know her but...she told me she was eighteen."

"He's lying....why is he doing this?" More tears began staining my cheeks.

"We've seen enough can we go now?" Dad pulled me away from the mirror.

"We just wait for a court date. Thank you all for coming in today I hope you are able to get through this."

Putting my hood back up we rushed out the station to the waiting car. I hate that I did this to them. I've basically shamed my family. I don't think sorry is enough anymore.

#kayla phillips #Lil Fizz #officialreine #darlene cisneros #chris brown #chris brown fanfic #chris brown fanfiction #chris brown fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fiction

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yeolsmuffin · 7 years

Text

Married to a Monster - Twenty [M]

Paring: jonginXreader, minseokXreader

Word Count: 7.8k

Genre: Angst, fluff, mature || husband!Jongin, best friend!Jongdae, best friend!Minseok

Summary: Being forced into a marriage with your first love/childhood best friend is messy - especially when he was the sole reason you attempted to kill yourself and the reason your body is riddled with scars. Old wounds were opened but you pushed yourself to figure things out, if not for yourself, then for your deceased sister whose death seemed to keep haunting you and Jongin.

Trigger warning: talks of self-harm, descriptions of scars, and trauma. Light smut.

"I don't want you to go."

"I will be with you both every time the sun shines, the birds sing, and the wind blows," she said touching your nose before disappearing.

You were crying so hard that you didn't even realize you woke up until Jongin sat up and wrapped his arms around you, "What's wrong?" He asked frantically. He searched your face, trying to decipher what was wrong but he couldn't so he just pressed himself closer to you.

You couldn't answer him as you gripped tightly onto his shirt. "I love you," you said instead as you cried and you swore you could still smell Hani's perfume.

Things slowly began to change as the seasons began to.

You quit school for a short time, pouring all of your energy into your family's business and while it wasn't what you wanted, your parents were happy.

While Jongdae and Minseok would always be your best friends, you saw them a lot less. Minseok in particular – who you would occasionally see leave and come home but you kept your distance. The two of you still seemed to be healing and you didn't want to reopen any wounds. Instead of hanging out with them and Baekhyun, you became close to Kyungsoo who was quiet but a lot like you in ways. He had loved Hani and lost her, just as you had, he enjoyed writing where you enjoyed painting, and the two of you both had a deep love for classical music.

Branching out from your two friends wasn't easy but in a way, you knew it had to be. For so many years they had held you up and now you were finally standing on your own feet.

Outside of Kyungsoo, you would go on runs with Yixing twice a week and you had even made a friend named Kat that you met when you and Kyungsoo had volunteered at the nearby animal shelter.

Life had started to finally pick up and while you thought things would progress between you and Jongin, they felt as if they were going in slow motion while the world around you spun.

Your old bedroom had been turned into yours and Jongin's master bedroom the way it was supposed to be and his room was now your art room. Even with sharing a bed, cuddling at night, kissing in the morning, and sweet 'I love you's', you didn't feel like you had reached the 'boyfriend and girlfriend' stage.

Sometimes you guys would go out to dinner but the relationship never seemed to get more than surface deep and it was starting to bother you. Technically, the two of you were already married but you didn't feel like his wife.

It didn't help that the two of you had years of sexual tension to compensate for that Jongin made no move to remove.

In a desperate attempt for some advice you had once brought it up to Kyungsoo and he looked like he almost had a heart attack.

"You're like a little sister. There is no way I'm giving you advice on seducing Kai," he had told you.

But it was more than seducing him. You just wanted to get to that point in your relationship. Things needed to evolve because something just felt off and as if there was no passion or fire behind the love Jongin had for you lately.

He was loving you gently and that was the last thing you wanted. You wanted a passionate and fiery love that made you explode. You were sick of being the one that everyone was too afraid to break. It made sense why you were that in the past, but you weren't the same girl anymore.

Was it too soon get to that point with Jongin?

You thought it wasn’t as you had almost reached that point with Minseok not that long ago - and the thought made your heart clench uncomfortably.

Sex could complicate things but it could also open things up and at this point, you were certain it was the only thing you could do to get to where you wanted to be in the relationship.

So by the time Jongin's birthday rolled around, your friend Kat had convinced you to surprise him.

"I don't know, Kat, he looks at me like I might break," you said with a sigh while the two of you looked around the lingerie shop.

She glanced back at you with a devilish smirk, "This will help!" And she pulled at a red see-through fabric, "How can he think you're breakable if you're dressed like this?" And she held up a tiny thong.

You cringed at the thought of Jongin seeing you in something and as you did, you groaned. If you cringed at the idea of him seeing you in something then you definitely weren't in the place you needed to be. It was common for a married woman to be excited to dress sexy for her husband, but for you, you weren't sure how to feel.

It was a topic that you and Jongin hadn't even skated around talking about nor had his hands ever went anywhere even remotely dangerous. Always on top of your clothes and held firmly.

"Relax there, puppy," Kat said gently as she grabbed your hand to release it from the silk lingerie you had unintentionally grabbed and knotted up in your hand. "It will work out, okay? You two have been in love with each other for so long. Maybe he's just scared you aren't ready for it, mm? If you show him you are, there's no way he'll deny you."

You gave her a look. She hadn't known the whole story or the way Jongin had treated you in the past. The thing was, it was just that – the past. There was no need to relive it when you wanted to move past it. Since Kat wasn't around for it all, it was best to just summarize that you and Jongin had a falling out and didn't get along for a short period. Kat didn't understand why Jongin had treated you like such a fragile person but even if she had, you were certain that her advice would be the same: to take your relationship to the next level in an attempt to deepen the bond.

So, you let her have this one and bought the deep blue almost see-through baby doll dress that actually made you feel good about your body when you put it on.

It hit just below your bottom and had a ruffled edge that made you want to spin in circles and watch how it flowed around you.

Regardless of how good it made you feel, you were a shaking mess on Jongin's birthday.

The two of you had dinner together at your favorite restaurant and while you had chosen a simple black dress, you were suddenly insecure about every piece of showing skin – no doubt because you would be showing a lot of skin to Jongin tonight.

"Are you okay?" Jongin asked quietly while reaching his hand out towards your chin. His hand grasped it, tilting your face in multiple directions as if to inspect you.

The hand that held your wine glass was shaking around the stem and you couldn't find a way to stop it. "I'm okay," you said with a voice that wasn't anywhere near convincing.

He let out a small breath and dropped his hand, "Just because it's my birthday doesn't mean you have to pretend to be okay. If something is wrong, tell me."

His eyes were watching you carefully. "Do you love me?" You asked in a small voice.

"What kind of question is that?" His voice held a tone of hurt, "Of course I do. More than anything. Everything."

"Are you in love with me?"

Reaching for your hand across the table, he smiled. "I've been stupid in love with you for so long that I don't know what not loving you is like."

As you released your wine glass, you grasped his hand. "Lately since everything has... gotten less complicated, I feel like we're in limbo."

Raising a brow, he urged you to continue.

"I feel like we're not moving further in our relationship," you trailed off.

You can see the panic as it made its way onto Jongin's face and instantly, you felt bad for not prefacing your words more.

"I'm not wanting to stop, Jongin. I want to be with you," and with that he relaxed. "I just don't feel like a couple."

Taking your words in, he bit his lip a few times. "What makes you feel like we aren't?"

"Well, I know we are but it's like everything's too platonic. I know you kiss me but it's never..." you trailed off again stopping yourself from saying what your mind had processed into the sentence. It's never like how Minseok kissed you. The difference between the two men was that while Minseok knew you had a past full of self-harm, he wasn't constantly afraid that his touch would cause it. He knew better than that and the few times he had kissed you, weren't held back. Jongin, on the other hand, knew that in the past he had said things to make you hurt yourself and that made you think he was afraid to touch you.

"Never what?" He wondered.

You hummed to yourself for a moment, thinking of a way to word your thoughts. "Never the way I imagine."

He nodded slowly. "I just want to be sure I don't go too fast. I don't want to rush this."

Looking off to the side, you sighed. "I don't think it would be rushing it just to be a little more passionate. You make this relationship so... safe."

"Y/N, don't you understand why?"

Nodding, you squeezed his hand. "I get it, I just want some passion. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to break. Can't you see that?"

But Jongin looked so broken. Even when he was with you. Even when he was smiling. The pain was etched into the fine lines of his face and while he was still young, he seemed so aged. Again, you weren't the only one affected by the actions you had taken. While you may not have been triggered by anything much anymore, it seemed Jongin and Minseok were still reeling - but in different ways. Minseok would touch you and love you, but he was afraid of what you would do to yourself. Jongin loved you but was afraid that his touch and love would make you do something to yourself.

How did trust and people bounce back after someone they love had tried to take their life? It seemed you had bounced back better than those around and the thought made you sick. Hurting yourself hadn't only been a punishment to yourself but a punishment to everyone who loved you.

Putting yourself into Minseok's shoes, you couldn't have imagined standing by while you knew your best friend had a problem. The fear and worry that you would experience would eat you alive. You would be too afraid to leave him alone and you would constantly survey his body for fresh marks. Just the way Minseok had done with you.

Something like that traumatizes those you love even if you think it won't affect them.

Jongin hadn't been there to see the worst of the times. He hadn't seen the blood or you standing on the bridge that day but it was the knowledge alone that was enough to drive him crazy.

You couldn't take it back and you couldn't make it better.

A thousand times you could say you're okay and you forgive him but Jongin would still look in the mirror and see the monster that drove you to hurt yourself.

It reaffirmed that you needed to take your relationship more seriously. If you could show Jongin that you are okay and that you want to be with him in every way you can, maybe then he could free himself from the guilt. You didn't want to live with it anymore or think about it - so this had to be the first step.

"If I move too fast and ruin this, I would never forgive myself. I don't want to lose you again," he looked down at his lap for a moment. "I need you."

"Then don't treat me like I'm going to run away. I'm telling you that I'm not – no, I'm promising." Intertwining your fingers together, you brushed your fingers over his wedding ring. "It's your birthday. Just for one night treat me like you would have if none of this had happened. Embrace teenage Jongin's wants – even if just for now. Please. If you still think that I'm breakable after tonight, then we'll take it slow for as long as you want."

His eyes were dark with confusion and what you hoped was lust if he had caught onto your insinuation. "That's what you want?"

Shaking your head, you sighed. "It's your birthday. It's about what you want. But if it reassures you, yes, that's what I want. I want to be treated like your wife."

"I thought I did treat you like that," he mumbled.

"You do in a way but a husband and wife relationship goes further than cuddling innocently before bed," you said the words carefully, watching his eyes while you spoke and you could see the change as you finished.

Licking his lips, he looked at you with a heavy gaze. "There's no going back after that. Everything would be changed." Here you were, finally talking about sex but the two of you were gently skating around it.

You gave him a firm nod. "I know. That's what I want. I'm ready to be in a real relationship, Jongin." It had been at least two months since you had decided to end things with Minseok for good and while a part of you loved him still, a part of you always wood. Just like part of Jongin would always love Hani. You now had known that you and Minseok weren't meant to be so, it was time. Time to let it go. Time to close off any loose ends.

He narrowed his eyes, "Not having sex doesn't make it any less real." You froze and so did Jongin. It was easier to talk about sex without mentioning it outright and now that Jongin had, it felt that much more real. He looked mortified at what he said and you were sure you looked the same when you felt his hand shake and he leaned across the table, "That's what you meant, right?" He whispered.

"Yes."

"That's what you want from me?"

Pausing for a moment, you and Jongin stared at each other in silence. Once you got the courage, you gave him a nod.

"Tonight?"

You nodded again and you didn't miss the way Jongin's adam's apple moved as he gulped.

The rest of the dinner was surrounded by an awkward silence.

Once the two of you got into his car, Jongin sighed and looked at you. "I think I'm caught in trying to protect you from me. I don't mean to but I just don't want to do anything to jeopardize you, you know?"

Biting your lip a few times, you looked at Jongin. "Why does it seem that even though things have gotten simpler, that they've gotten even more difficult?"

For some reason, you thought the relationship between you and Jongin would click perfectly. That after years of loving each other, hating each other, and breaking each other that maybe you would fall into the perfect passionate and loving relationship. But that wasn't it.

Bringing his hand from the gear shift to your face, he grabbed your cheek lovingly. "I'll try to get to the point you want us at. You think sex will magically fix everything, we'll try okay?"

"It's not like we're virgins, Jongin," you were sure there was a bitter undertone to your words because while you didn't care that neither you or Jongin had saved yourself for each other, it still hurt that he had slept around so much in high school. It was even worse that you had to see and hear about it the whole time you were aching for him to just talk to you again.

It made you thankful that you hadn't gone through with sleeping with Minseok because you couldn't have bounced back from that.

Jongin's eyes closed for a minute. "Y/N-"

"I just don't understand how you can go from fucking literally every girl in sight to not even being able to get to 'second base' with me. Stop treating me like your sister. We're supposed to be in love with each other, aren't we? If you can sleep with someone you don't love, surely you can sleep with someone you do love. See me like a woman for once." The anger was seeping out of you now and you didn’t even think to stop it.

He dropped his hand and you watched him clench his jaw. "You act like I have no sexual desire for you."

You crossed your arms over your chest like a pouting child. "That's how it feels."

You could practically hear his teeth grind together, "You know that's not how it is. I've wanted you since I was a hormonal fucking teenager." His tone was harsh and while it should have hurt you, it didn't. He was angry for the first time since you had been married to him – well, it was the first time it was directed at you. But it was starting to make you angry that Jongin wouldn't touch you – annoyed even. You were bitter, sexually frustrated, and outright confused.

"Why are you holding back then?" And then the next words stumbled out before you could stop them. "Minseok was far more intimate-" you caught yourself finally and brought a hand to your mouth as you stared at Jongin in his eyes.

They darkened with something you couldn't catch and you could see his hand twitch. "Why don't you go be with Minseok then?" He muttered angrily.

Oh my god. You were having your first argument as a couple.

It almost made you want to smile that you were fighting and you would have had Jongin not been staring at you with such an intense gaze that you felt tears prick at your eyes. A fight meant that things were serious. "Jongin, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it," and your voice started to tremble as you realized what you had done. You compared Jongin to Minseok and that's something you should never do. Comparing two of the loves of your life would be like Jongin comparing you to Hani – which he never did. Jongin made it his goal when you were younger to show you how you were different than Hani, not alike.

He fought his anger. You could see it boiling inside him but he fought the urge to say anything as the two of you sat in the parked car and tried to cool down from the heat of your first argument.

After a few moments, he reached out and gripped your hand, "I'm sorry too. I know you didn't mean that because I didn't mean what I said. You're right. I haven't been fair to you. Let's go home, okay? Let's go home and fix this. I'll make it right."

⇻☆☆☆⇺

Jongin drove one-handed, clutching your shaking hand the whole way.

So the two of you had your first fight, on Jongin's birthday, about sex.

It made you feel weird inside.

Mostly because you weren't used to a relationship because while you dated a few times when you were away at college the first two years, you were never in one like this. Most of those relationships were flings that you would end up ending because you couldn't commit. You didn't love any other guy – or girl for that matter. Jongin and Minseok were the only people you had ever pictured yourself with and that ruined you for anyone else.

This relationship was different and maybe that's why you were so unsatisfied. After all these years, your expectations were high.

Once the two of you got inside and made it to your room, Jongin gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead. "I'm going to change and get ready for bed," he said with unsteady eyes.

Watching Jongin grabbing some clothes, you stood awkwardly by the dresser in your room. It was a normal nightly routine for you to get ready for bed in the master bathroom and Jongin in the hall bathroom since unlike a normal couple, the two of you weren't used to each other's bodies quite yet. Jongin hadn't even seen you in your underwear and even when you were wearing a towel, he'd avert his gaze.

It was odd because, at this point, you were used to people seeing your body as many times Minseok and Jongdae tended to your cuts when you were nearly naked.

Sighing to yourself when Jongin left, you walked into the closet and reached for the bag you had tucked away from Jongin's sight. Clutching it so tight the whites of your knuckles showed, you took the bag with you into the bathroom and locked the door.

It took you not one, not two, not even three, but four laps around the bathroom still in your dress and heels before you got the courage to take your clothes off and pull on the bra, panties, and matching babydoll lingerie. Wrapping your purple robe around your body so tight that you nearly lost circulation in your waist, you took your time washing your face and brushing your teeth.

Yeah, it was something you wanted but that didn't mean you weren't nervous.

Would Jongin even like your body?

It had been years since you were in even a bathing suit around him and then you hadn't been filled out the way you were now. Now you had even more insecurities. Certain parts of you that were too sharp and others that were far too squishy.

As you poked at different parts of your body over your robe, you heard a knock on the bathroom door and it made you jump away from the death stare you had been giving yourself in the mirror. "Yeah?" You croaked out.

"Are you okay?" Jongin's voice said with a tremble. "You've been in there a while."

You hadn't realized that you had been in the bathroom staring at yourself so long until you looked down at your phone and your eyes grew wide. "I'll be out in a sec," you answered back.

Waiting until you heard Jongin's feet walking away from the door, you opened your robe once more to look at your lingerie clad body and you gulped. Was this too far?

You gripped at your hair and resisted the urge to yell. Why were you wearing this fucking stupid lingerie? Why did you listen to Kat?

You would burn it. That was the new plan. Maybe you and Jongin wouldn't even have sex and you could just sleep in the robe without him knowing what's underneath and then in the morning, you would take it to the backyard and throw it in the fire pit that was back there.

You nodded. That was the plan. Burn it.

"Oh my god, I'm crazy," you whispered to yourself as you wrapped the robe back around your body and tried to get the courage to unlock the door and step into the bedroom.

It took you three tries, but you eventually opened the door and stared at Jongin who had snapped his gaze up to you as he sat on his side of the bed, hugging a pillow.

For a moment, the two of you just kept your eyes locked but then he broke it as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment before reopening. He dropped the pillow and gestured gently for you to 'come here' so you did – slowly and nearly tripping over your feet a few times before deciding that you were for sure, cutting them off tomorrow. Who needed feet anyway? Not you.

When you started for your side of the bed, Jongin shook his head, and whispered a small "No, come here."

You obliged, walking over to his side and standing in front of his sitting body. Reaching out and gently grabbing your waist, Jongin pulled you into his lap in a quick instance. His legs were planted firmly on the floor and he adjusted you so that your legs straddled his waist and your chest was pressed against his.

He held you close just to listen to the sound of your heart before asking. "Why are you wearing a robe?"

"It's soft."

He laughed. "You never wear a robe to bed."

Wrapping your arms more firmly around his neck, you nuzzled into him. "I was under the assumption that we weren't going to bed," you said slowly in a small voice.

"Are you only wearing a robe?" He asked in a strained and seemingly horrified voice.

Pulling away from him, you felt your cheeks heat up as his hands on your waist were shaking. "No."

He nodded almost to himself as he tugged at the collar of the robe. "What's under here then?" His voice had turned suggestive and involuntarily your legs felt the need to tighten around him.

You shrugged, "I guess you'll just have to find out."

Releasing the collar from his grasp, Jongin's hands found your hair as his lips pressed against yours. It was a gentle kiss at first. Sweet and almost too sweet for the lingerie that you had underneath the plush robe. Eventually, his fingers began to twine into your hair and his lips got more violent, sucking against your own as he pulled you into him.

Your heart was racing the moment you felt him run his tongue along your bottom lip and you basically melted in his lap. You felt yourself growing limp underneath his hands that had roamed their way down to your cheeks. The air around you had turned hot and heavy in a way that you had yet to experience with Jongin. You were sure to crack underneath this pressure. This was the passion that you wanted, the passion you needed.

His kiss made you feel vulnerable but in the best way. The moment his tongue begged for entrance, you allowed it as you felt yourself grow wet – or wetter; You weren't sure because Jongin hadn't kissed you like this before.

Jongin wanted dominance in the kiss and you let him have it. Jongin had let you control too much in the relationship that you needed his control here in the bedroom.

You weren't entirely sure but you thought you could feel Jongin's arousal underneath you and it had you shaking.

Once his hands released your face, he trailed his lips down from your jaw to your neck, placing gentle kisses and bites to every bit of skin his lips moved across. A squeak escaped your lips making Jongin groan and bite down on the skin just above your collarbone. His hands were working at the tie of your robe before you could process what was going on and the second you felt the cold air against your barely covered skin, you froze.

Jongin did the same, pulling back and looking at your body. His eyes hardened and he groaned once more. "You bought lingerie? For me?"

His hands pushed the robe down your arms and you let it fall from your body. You looked sideways, "Who said it was for you? Maybe I've had this for a while."

He licked his lips and scoffed, his fingers pointing out a price tag that hung below one of your arms. "I somehow doubt that."

You looked at it in horror before Jongin grabbed it and snapped it from the thin material, his eyebrows raising at the price.

"You paid way too much for this. You should have asked me to buy it for you."

"Says the guy whose hands never even grazed me sexually," you countered.

With a single raised eyebrow, his hands trailed up from where he had placed them on your waist to your sides before grazing over one of your breast gently all while he stared at you. "Can that start now then?"

Placing your hand over his, you squeezed, urging him to do the same as you moaned out. His other hand snaked around you, grazing your bottom for a moment before he kneaded the skin there gently. There was no doubt he was hard. You could feel him through his thin pajama pants and it made you roll your hips down onto him and squeeze tighter.

He moaned, dropping his head back for a moment as you rubbed yourself against him. "I'm an i-idiot," he stuttered out.

A breathy "why" fell from your lips.

"Because I didn't try to have you any sooner. It's going to be hard to restrain myself and I want to take this slow."

Grabbing onto his cheeks, you pulled his gaze to yours. "You think as my childhood best friend that you know every side of me, but this isn't one you know. I don't need slow and I sure as hell don't need you restraining yourself."

And that was all it took for the switch in Jongin to flip and within moments, he pulled the both of you up and had you pinned underneath him on the bed. His rough hands gripped your wrists as he kissed your breasts over the material of the lingerie. "Are you sure?" He asked, his voice being muffled. "This isn't a side of me that you know, either."

Pulling the straps of the lingerie and your bra down your shoulders, Jongin released your breasts, the cool air making your nipples harden even more than they already were from your arousal. He took turns, twisting each bud between his fingers in a mix of painful and delicious pleasure as you closed your eyes and moaned.

He replaced his fingers with his mouth, wrapping his lips around your nipple and suckling while one of his hands roamed down your lingerie, raising the ruffled bottom and dancing their way underneath your soaked panties.

A strangled noise came from the back of his throat as is finger rubbed its way along your soaked slit before he pressed it up into you.

Your body was on fire when Jongin's finger entered your core. Everything in you was tingling and you felt like you just kept getting wetter with his every movement.

You felt like you could come even though it was difficult to get you to come during sex.

He thrust his finger into you, curving it just the slightest as he pulled it in and out. It was slow at first but the moment you starting moaning and squirming underneath him, he picked up his pace. Jongin kissed his way down your stomach, pulling the lingerie up so he could kiss the bare skin. Nipping and licking at the skin of your hips, Jongin continued fingering you as he brought his mouth closer to your core.

You saw his eyes open and that's when everything seemed to go in slow motion. The second his eyes grazed your thighs, his finger stopped moving and you saw his eyes gloss over. He removed his finger and sat up on his knees, staring down at your thighs. You followed his gaze on your scarred legs.

They were worse off than your arms and while Jongin had seen your arms and often flinched at them, he never saw the real amount of damage you self-inflicted.

Scars coated your body in many places but the worst was your upper thigh – the only place you could truly hide cuts without worrying about them being seen. They were too high to be seen when you wore shorts but too low to be covered by any underwear.

They weren't pretty.

Harsh scars of dark pink and white were scattered in every place that once had bare skin on the tops of your thighs.

It was the first time Jongin had seen them and you saw how it was affecting him.

You saw the way he started to shake and a tear fell from his eye and landed straight on your bare skin. "Jongin-"

"No," he sobbed out. "Don't comfort me."

His fingers grazed the bumpy scars and as he did so, his hand shot back as if he had been burned.

"I've done this to you," he cried. "I'm so sorry."

Readjusting yourself to be covered, you sat up on your knees and reached for Jongin's face. "Jongin, please. It's over. It was a long time ago. Please don't let this change anything."

But he flinched away. "I don't want to touch you because look what I’ve done when I had been at a distance. Imagine what I can do with my own hands."

He looked terrified and you wiped at the hot tears that rolled down his cheeks. "No - it happened because you didn't touch me, Jongin. Your touch is good for me. It heals me. It helps me forget the past. I'm okay. Jongin, they're scars. Healed. They're healed. I'm healed."

It was like he couldn't hear you as he looked at his own hands. "This is why I've been moving so slow, I've been afraid. Afraid of this. Afraid of facing the reality that I really am the monster you told me I was. I don't deserve you."

His crying had you in tears as you watched him unravel in front of you. You tried to say anything to get him to calm down but he didn't.

You had to beg him to hold you as you let him cry and be angry. It made you cry alongside him because you realized the mess you were truly in. You weren't the broken one anymore - it was Jongin now and the thought killed you. Hurting yourself had only ruined everyone else in the process and it made you hate yourself.

As you fell asleep with puffy eyed Jongin, you wondered how you would handle tomorrow and where this would place your relationship.

You had no idea what you would be to Jongin when you woke up the next morning.

⇻☆☆☆⇺

Before you could even process the night before, your phone went off and you struggled out of Jongin's vice grip hold to grab it.

Your heart stuttered in your chest when Minseok's picture showed up. Licking your lips, and looking at sleeping Jongin, you answered. "Minnie," you breathed out.

"Hey."

Instantly, you wanted to cry to him. Explain Jongin's break down and ask him for advice but you knew you couldn't. If you wanted to fully be over what you had with Minseok, you needed to leave him out of this. It wouldn't be healthy or fair to Minseok to get his help with Jongin.

"Come downstairs," his voice was like music to your ears and you hadn't realized how long you had gone without it. "I need to talk to you and Kai."

You nodded even though he couldn't see you, "Jongin is sleeping. Give me a minute to get dressed."

And Minseok said a quick goodbye before hanging up.

Discarding your lingerie from the previous night, you dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. You tried your best to cover up your puffy eyes and swollen face but Minseok knew you well and you were certain he would notice regardless

Minseok was waiting at the door, and the moment you let him in your body shook. You wanted to hug and embrace him but you knew you couldn't.

"Hey."

"Hey," you said back, looking over him.

He looked good. Like he had been eating well and not drinking so much and that thought made you feel better. His hand lifted up towards your face but he dropped it. "Are you okay?" His voice was tight with concern.

You gave him a half-hearted smile. "I'll figure it out, Minnie. Don't worry about me." There was no point in lying, he would know you weren't okay.

Directing you to the living room, Minseok urged you to sit down with him. "It's not like we stopped being best friends, Y/N. You can talk to me still."

"It's about Jongin and me and I don't want to do that to you."

He snorted. "That's nonsense. You're one of my main concerns. Tell me what happened, you look like a mess."

You rubbed your hands together and looked at Minseok's gentle face. "Jongin has some issues. I think he needs help. Our relationship isn't progressing and I think he's not over the past. He had one glimpse of my scars and after that, he looked terrified to even look at me."

Minseok nodded solemnly. "It's going to be hard for him to get over now that he's actually seen the damage. It's one thing to talk about it, but another to see it." Minseok sighed. "I talk like I'm over it myself. You know I have issues with trusting you not to hurt yourself and I still have panic attacks worrying about you but even so, nothing you can do or say will ever make it better. I have to get over it on my own, and so does Kai."

"Just like I had to get over everything on my own," you concluded.

"Yes, just like that. No matter how much you want someone to heal you, you have to do it on your own. A person doesn't fix your problems – can't fix your problems. They can help you find a way to heal, but they can't heal you."

"So what do I do, then?" You asked desperately.

He shrugged, "I'll tell you what I'm doing. The reason I came here was to let you know, I'm moving. Jongdae and Baekhyun will stay living in the house next door – at least for now, but I'm going to get an apartment a few towns away and go back to school. It took me a while but after a few weeks of feeling broken, I knew I had to do something and no offense, that involves leaving you and everyone else. I think I need to find myself and I can't do that here."

It hurt that Minseok had to leave but you didn't feel the need to protest. Your heart wasn't begging him to go even if your mind didn't want him to. You knew he needed to. You couldn't rely on him the way you had before and both of you had to learn that. "That's great Minnie, what are you going to school for?"

He smiled, "I think I'm going to become a nurse," he reached out and ruffled your hair. "I think I'm best at helping people and I should channel that energy into something that is more healthy."

Your heart fluttered and you smiled at him, "I'm so happy for you, Minnie. That's amazing. I'll miss you but I think you're right, that is what's best." You could have fought it and maybe past you would have, but why? Why fight something Minseok seemed so happy about? Why fight for him to stay when he needed this? Being a best friend didn’t mean regarding your own happiness, but that of your best friend.

"I'll be gone for a while and well, maybe I won't come back but I promise I'll keep in touch. You'll always be my best friend."

Tears welled in your eyes. A life where you didn’t see Minseok often sounded scary but you would be okay as long as he was okay. “I just want you to be happy and things between us aren't healthy like you said. I hope this will help our relationship develop into something healthy."

He patted your cheek and wiped a stray tear away. "I think it's all time for us to grow without each other for a while. I'm happy that we're all best friends but in the interest of each of us: me, you, Jongdae, and Jongin, I think we all need to learn how to be our own people."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I think you should get some space too. Get out of this town, go have a long vacation, get a fun or stupid job, or just go back to school."

You gave him a look. You couldn't leave Jongin, especially now. "I left once, Minseok."

He gave you a look back, "I know but when you came back you hated Jongin, had a complicated relationship with he and I, and you hadn't gotten over what happened. This time you could take some time to yourself now that you're not living in the shadow of the past. You've forgiven Jongin so now he can learn how not to live in the past."

"You think us separating will be the best for us?" You couldn't imagine leaving Jongin but you held Minseok's opinion in high regard. "That he won't spend the time beating himself up?"

Minseok let out a deep breath, "I think he's more likely to beat himself up if you're here. I think we all need to go be our own people for a little bit. Me leaving you guys doesn't make me any less of your best friend nor does it make you any less of a girlfriend or wife if you leave. Just think about it, okay?"

Putting a hand on his shoulder, you nodded. "You're right. I'll think about it."

"I'm leaving tonight," Minseok said, looking off into the distance.

Gasping, you tried to ignore the hurt that your heart felt immediately with the impact of his words. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

He kept his gaze away from you. "Because I'm still in love with you and I was afraid if I told you sooner, I might try to stay."

Were you still in love with him? You were sure you were. Were you over the idea of a relationship with him, though? Yes. You knew it was Jongin for you now but part of your heart would always belong to Minseok and that was hard to shake. "I get it," you replied quietly.

Being around someone you had been so close to being with, made your stomach feel weird. It made you feel like Minseok was an ex and you guessed in a way he was – but no matter what, he was your best friend and nothing would change that. Not him moving away to get over you and not you being with Jongin. But what would change is the health of your relationship and your heart was excited for the prospects of a future where your love wasn't toxic to each other.

Just like you and Jongin.

You needed a future that wasn't toxic.

A future where Jongin wasn't afraid to touch you.

And upon that realization, you realized that maybe you should leave too - ask Minseok had suggested.

When Minseok left, you hugged him tightly. You cried even though you tried to hide it. Minseok was there to wipe the tears away and tell you, "It will all be okay. I'll be a phone call away. You know I will always answer for you." But you knew that even though he said that, you shouldn't call him first. You had to let him come to you because no longer could you be the damsel in distress that he saved. You were a big girl and you were finally standing on your own two feet. You could make decisions on your own.

So you did. You knew it was time for you to go back to school and get a degree in fine arts the way you once dreamed. Touching a paintbrush didn't give you flashbacks anymore, in fact, painting was something you realized you needed more of. A couple of years of art school would do you some good. You were young and while you were Jongin's wife, you decided it would be okay to leave him temporarily. Although, you wouldn’t be leaving him emotionally because Jongin was stitched into your heart.

He wasn't upset when you told him your plans. He seemed happy and maybe even relieved that you were going to do something he knew you had wanted for so long. Jongin promised that a long distance relationship was okay with him and he admitted that maybe he needed it.

While you applied to school, you helped Jongin find a therapist. It was Jongin's idea initially as he whispered in your ear one night before you went to bed, "I think I need help" and you knew it was a step in the right direction. He had to heal on his own and he had made the first leap.

The two of you promised to call each other constantly since the school you were going to was six hours away – it was no easy drive.

Stepping down from your 'big boss' position at work was like a breath of fresh air and you couldn't be any happier when Jongin suggest Jongdae take your place because you both knew you didn't intend on going back to working in an office. After you had your degree, you had a few ideas of what you wanted to do and working at an insurance company, wasn't one. Besides, who better to have your position at your work than one of the men who had saved you from yourself.

You and Jongin would be okay and you knew that. This wouldn't ruin your love because it turned out that nothing was enough to tear the two of you apart. If anything, the distance would draw you together. Once the two of you had time to become your own people, you could love each other more.

This was a new start and while you decided to remain married legally, you were going to a girlfriend-boyfriend status to take the relationship as slow as Jongin needed. While you still hadn't been physically intimate, eventually you would. The distance would make that happen on its own especially once Jongin got over the fear of hurting you.

It would be a long haul but you were ready for it. You were ready to start fresh and now that everything had been solved that could be solved, you could be free. You wouldn't have to think about Jongin hurting you or the lingering love you had for Minseok. You wouldn't have to think of how losing your sister ruined you or how Jongdae was one of your crutches. You were free for the first time in a long time.

You could feel the freedom in your bones the day you left your home and you hoped Jongin felt the same. He was going to be free too. Time would heal him the way it healed you.

When you stepped outside that morning, the chilly wind blew in your hair and caressed your skin all while the sun shined brightly in the sky above. Jongin wrapped an arm around your waist, kissing you sweetly before you left, and then, as if it were magic, the birds started to sing.

--->twenty-one<---

masterlist

a/n: Dedicated to everyone who has ever loved MtaM. Thank you all for the love and support you have given. It’s sad that it’s coming to an end but all good things must come to an end. This series would be nothing without the sweet comments and messages, so thank you all. I hope I don’t disappoint anyone in the ending. I love you guys!

Special shout out to @lalys685 for helping me break through writer's block and for encouraging me. <3

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