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dimpled-gukkie · 3 years

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Santa Baby (tell me you hear them too)

moodboard made by the lovely @today-we-will-survive

Summary: You attend a last minute Christmas party and meet your soulmate. The catch? You don’t remember anything about them besides the fact that they were wearing a Santa suit. Turns out there were seven Santas at the party... The question remains: Can you find your soulmate before Christmas Day?

Genre: Soulmate AU/ College AU

Pairing: ???? x reader

Warnings: hand burned on hot chocolate, Jin says he’s too pretty to be a hostage, mentions and depictions of drinking, joon is described as a porn aficionado

Word Count: 12.4k

a/n: It’s a very special day for my dearest friend @purpleful! In your honor I thought I’d write you a story of your own, as you help me with a countless amount of mine. Remember all the times you asked me this month if I had written anything or had a Christmas fic? I had been working on this the whole time nshjfhn. You sent me into a panic sometimes though because I swear you guessed the plot several times without actually knowing I was even writing. Anyways I love you and thank you for being my friend ❤️

a/a/n: also Happy Holidays to anyone else celebrating. I hope you’re able to find lightness even in these dark times. And to the atheists out there, cheers to the upcoming new year

1 day, 12 hours, 32 minutes and 12 seconds until Christmas

“Don’t you think those elf costumes are hot? Like damn I wish my legs looked like that in tights.” Mina whispers conspiratorially, though her voice has a tendency to carry no matter what volume she attempts to speak in, meaning the elf you’re passing by surely hears her based off his reddened ears.

“Do you have any shame?” You laugh, tucking your arm around her own to tug her into the nearby candle store. Your professor offered to give extra credit in exchange for a present and while she’s undoubtably exploiting her students for free gifts you could really use some help in your upper division history elective.

“What’s the fun in that?” Mina giggles, reaching over to the nearest stand and picking up a candle. She gives it a good whiff before coughing, holding the offending item away from her like that will somehow save her from smelling it further despite the top still being off.

“I imagine this is what elf vomit smells like.” She groans, shoving it into your arms in an effort to make you suffer as well. True friendship.

“Winter Candies?” You question, reading the label and the ingredients it’s supposed to smell like. “Adding pecan and peppermint is probably what went wrong.” You hum before smelling it yourself and coughing from the fumes. “Oh you were right this is disgusting.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” Mina hums. “Get that one for your professor.”

“I’d like my grade to be higher not lower. Let’s just get this pine one. It’s a safe bet right?”

“If you like your house to smell like a forest I guess so.” She shrugs, following behind you to the register. “Do you think we could get something to eat? I’m starving.”

“Didn’t you eat like half of Songi’s Christmas cookies this morning? Speaking of which you’re going to get in trouble, she was whining the whole time about how long they were taking due to her lack of patience.”

“When is she not whining about how long things take? Girl has the attention span of a nat, better yet a goldfish.” She snickers, though her eyes shine with a particular fondness for one of her oldest friends. Songi is actually how you met Mina in the first place, the both of you stuck in statistics together and becoming quick friends. When sophomore year rolled around it just made sense to move in with Songi and Mina as they were already looking for a third roommate.

“Very true. Though I’m sure her soulmate will find it charming. Hopefully.”

“Do you ever wonder when we’ll meet our soulmates?” Mina sighs, looking dreamily off into what appears to be the oncoming food court. It’s a toss up whether she’s thinking about her soulmate or fried food.

“All the time but I try not to dwell on it. I just want to live you know? They’ll find me eventually.” The line for hotteok is long, but the sweet smell of pancakes keeps you placated even if your stomach is grumbling.

“When my soulmate does come I hope they’re as fine as Park Jimin. That man must be an angel or something because no one has the right to be that attractive.” You’re about to comment on where that sudden thought came from when Park Jimin himself exits hastily from a store, a clothing bag thrown over his shoulder as he hastily types on his phone. From the draw of his brows and slight scowl he almost looks a little angry, an expression you’ve never seen on him before. “Jimin!” Mina calls, and the orange haired boy immediately picks his head up and puts on a light smile before jogging over.

As he approaches the bells around you jangle, the clock at Santa’s workshop echoing throughout the mall and ringing in your ears. Rubbing your ear to try and ease the slight pain you give Jimin a small wave when he finally appears before you. “The bells are pretty loud huh?” He smiles, nodding towards the large bell that apparently looms behind you.

You agree at the same time Mina says, “I don’t think they’re that loud. Annoying at most.” Before looking between the both of you and wriggling her brows. You brush it off as her being weird before gesturing to Jimin’s bag.

“Don’t tell me you bought a Santa costume.” You say, causing him to laugh. The way his eyes slip between his plump cheeks is rather flattering.

“I lost a bet and this is the price to pay for tonight’s party. Speaking of which you guys should come. Jin’s on alcohol duty so he’ll definitely get all the fancy shit.” Jimin says.

“Well since the Park Jimin invited us, I guess we’ll have to stop by. Text y/n the address and we’ll get there eventually. No promises to be on time though.” Mina jokes.

“That is why they created the term ‘fashionably late’ is it not? Just make sure not to wear a sexy Santa costume, Jin says he wants to be the lone slutty Santa.” Jimin laughs, as if drawing a picture in his own mind before shaking his head.

“It’s a little odd to have a party on the twenty-third though. Why not Christmas Eve?”

“Most of us are going home tomorrow so today was really the only time. Everyone was strung up with finals and stuff.”

“Understandable. I’m getting last minute extra credit before grades are finalized tomorrow. Our school really kills the festive spirit with everything being so close to the holidays.”

“Exactly. All the more reason to party out our frustrations.” His phone buzzes and Jimin types a quick reply before turning back to you. “I gotta go and help Tae at the shelter but I’ll see you both tonight right?”

“And Songi! Our ride or die, our forever plus one, our favorite-“

“Alright, alright. Yeah we’ll be there.” You smile, your hand still over Mina’s mouth as Jimin turns and jogs away. When you release her she smacks the back of your head and you whine.

“What was that for??”

“For being stupid dumbass. You’re telling me both you and Jimin thought the bells were super loud and didn’t think that’s sus. He’s clearly your soulmate!” Mina practically screeches, bouncing on her heels in excitement. The spectacle draws the attention of those around you and you can’t help but shy away.

“Shut up! Besides it’s the holiday season, bells are ringing everywhere. There’s no way to tell if it’s actually your soulmate’s bell jingle. Besides Jimin didn’t seem to think anything of it either. Shouldn’t you just know?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. You’re the one with the found soulmate after all.” Mina shrugs before giving her order to the vendor. She nudges you to give your own but your mind is still reeling. Park Jimin isn’t actually your soulmate, right?

1 day, 1 hour, 37 minutes, 53 seconds until Christmas

Despite your nonchalance earlier, you feel jittery standing outside the address Jimin sent you. Shivers rack down your spine at the prospect of seeing him again, of being certain that Jimin is your forever. You can hear the music through the door, a rhythmic thumping that you try and match your breathing to. Even if Park Jimin isn’t your soulmate it’s not going to be the end of the world. At least that’s what you try to tell yourself, ignoring the way just the idea forms a pit in your stomach. “I know we’re waiting for you to mentally prepare yourself but could you hurry up? I for one would love to witness slutty Jin.” Mina says, nudging you forward lightly with her shoulder.

“Chill out Mina, give the poor girl some time. She’s about to find her soulmate after all.” Songi says, throwing an arm over your shoulder and dragging you into her side. “If it makes you feel better I’ll stay by your side the whole night. We can make fun of Mina shamelessly trying to outdo Seokjin.”

“Hey! Jimin may have said I couldn’t be a slutty Santa but that will never stop me from being the baddest bitch there.” She makes a show of grabbing her sweater and tugging it to emphasize ‘ho’ stitched across the front. Songi has a matching one with Santa losing said hos.

“If I don’t see a dance battle I’m going to be disappointed. After all you promised to do something stupid for me to film. It’s the only reason I decided to come, I mean after supporting you of course.” Songi laughs, giving you an affectionate squeeze.

“Hey I could be an idol with these moves! Ryujin has nothing on me.” Mina huffs, breaking out into the iconic Itzy choreography in the middle of the hallway. You can’t help but crack up at the serious face she makes while ungracefully flailing her limbs. “And you should be grateful to us you hermit! I hope for your sake your soulmate is outgoing because you’ll live your whole life holed up in your apartment otherwise.”

“It’s safer that way. No bugs.” Songi says, causing Mina to push her and nearly send you both crashing to the floor.

“You’re insufferable. I don’t know how I’ve put up with you all these years.”

“You love me, I mean really it’d be hard not too.” Songi shrugs, a smug smile pulled onto her face as she pats Mina’s cheek.

“More like tolerate you and to be honest I’ve reached my limit. Let’s go inside so I can ditch you losers.” Mina throws the door open and heads inside, easily weaving through the bodies crammed inside the small apartment.

“I can just feel the love.” Songi sighs, clutching onto the space over her heart. “Now come on, we can’t find him if we’re in the hallway all night.” Moving to grab your hand she drags you inside, only for you to run into a boy passing through.

“My bad, didn’t think anyone else would be coming by. I have to go get more eggnog before Jin starts screaming at us again.” He smiles, the corner of his lips forming into soft right angles.

“It’s alright.” You murmur, looking around for Mina or Songi. Surely they’re somewhere nearby. Songi is most likely tucked away in some corner, longingly looking for an animal to keep her entertained while Mina is probably at the makeshift bar. If you weren’t so busy looking for your friends maybe you’d pay mind to the soft tinkling of bells and his cardinal red Santa suit wrapped nicely around his frame. Yet even when he breezes past you, your eyes are focused on your two friends. You spot Mina first, surprisingly she’s near the edge of the makeshift dance floor, a drink in her hand and likely about halfway drunk enough to begin belting along to whatever song comes on, even if it’s a terrible EDM mashup of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

You push through the bodies to get to her, almost getting trampled twice before breaking out and grabbing her by the arm before she can walk away. “Oh hey! I got you a drink, I know you don’t like eggnog so I swiped the chocolate milk from the fridge and spiked it myself.” She smiles, shoving a green plastic cup decorated with little lights towards you. You take a sip and wince at the bitter taste, the gingerbread liquor making an interesting concoction. But it’s the thought that counts and you smile despite wanting to cough at the strong flavor.

“Thanks. Where’s Songi?” You ask and Mina curses.

“She was just over in that corner but she’s gone now. Maybe we should try to find her?”

“You know, for someone who claims to hate social interaction she goes off on her own quite easily.” You hum, pushing your way through only to bump into Park Jimin himself. “Sorry.” You say, bumping into Mina from how quickly you try to put space between the two of you. You had momentarily forgotten the whole reason you came was because of Jimin and the possibility that he’s your soulmate. Your hands are suddenly clammy and you rub them against the side of your pants nervously.

“No big deal. Good to see you though! How long have you been here? You should’ve come and said hi to me first.” He whines, his pretty lips drawing into a thick pout, brows upturned as he gives you his best puppy dog look. You can feel yourself melting and all he’s doing is staring at you. The bells around you seem to get louder, Mariah Carey’s iconic Christmas song setting the stage.

“Ahh yeah. Next time! Maybe we could-uhh even come together. If you want to that is.” You smile shyly, pulling your sleeves down over your hands anxiously. You hope he can understand the implication behind your words, and as he steps towards you the bells seem to grow even louder. Someone shoves you from behind and you stumble, body alight with nerves when Jimin catches you. You’re practically shaking, in nerves or excitement you can’t discern. The only thing you can focus on is how pretty Jimin looks cast under red and white lights, his eyes filled with little twinkles. Your breath hitches at how close he is and you look down quickly when he gazes back at you so he can’t read the pure adoration on your face.

Naturally to try and seem less awkward you rush out the first thought that comes to mind. “Your suit is orange?” He takes a step back and you wish to reverse time as the warmth of whiskey and cinnamon on his breath parts from you.

“Ahh yeah, I lost a bet so I had to wear a Santa Suit and Hobi didn’t have enough for us all. I was in such a hurry I didn’t even bother looking at it before renting it. It’s my own fault for being swindled. I should’ve known better than to rent from a halloween shop that was suspiciously still open in December. Can you believe all the other stores were sold out?” Jimin scoffs and despite being interested in his story you can only focus on the way his lips move and pout with each word. They’re a rosy pink, slightly shiny in the dim lighting like he had just put on chapstick or licked his lips. The only thing that draws you out of your stupor is a petite girl throwing her arm around Jimin’s waist.

“Baby!” She exclaims and your eyes widen as Jimin grins down at her, wrapping his hands happily around her own waist and dragging him tightly into her. His smile is the largest you’ve ever seen on him, cheeks particularly squished in utmost happiness and his expression being what you could only describe as love. You can feel your heart breaking already. “Hi I’m Jisoo!” You think you’re going to be sick to your stomach, not just because Jimin is in love with someone else but because the girl you’re supposed to hate is so nice. She smiles at you warmly like you weren’t just staring at her boyfriend’s lips and wondering what they’d taste like.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Isn’t my soulmate so cute?” Jimin asks you, his eyes sparkling like diamonds as he squishes her cheek between two fingers. Your breath starts to quicken and you smile widely to hide the way your eyes begin to fill with tears.

“You both are adorable together.” You manage to get out, impressed with how natural it sounds despite how tense you feel. The bells in your head are just mocking you now as you make up an excuse to leave, the two of them so wrapped up in each other they don’t pay mind to your absence. Clearing your throat you head to the bathroom to try and get some privacy for your inevitable break down only to run into Mina and some guy in a Santa suit stumbling out.

“Y/n!” Mina cheers, too intoxicated to notice the way small tears begin to fall down your face. The hallway is rather dark and yet you can still make out the guy next to her with a curved nose and reddened ears. He looks a little embarrassed to be caught after an obvious rendezvous in a bathroom at a party and yet his hands still wind around Mina’s waist comfortably when she pulls away from you. “My soulmate’s an elf!” She cackles and you welcome the distraction her words bring.

“What?” You ask confused. The guy beside her is wearing a Santa costume, you’re sure of it.

“Hoseok is a mall elf! You know the guy with the hot legs? It’s him, my soulmate!” She squeals excitedly, grabbing him by the arm and smiling up at him blissfully.

“How are you sure?” You don’t mean to sound so bitter, but Mina never mentioned hearing bells at the mall nor did she mention hearing bells when you caught her earlier. If anything this could just be her wishful thinking like her suggestion of Jimin being your soulmate.

“You just kinda know! Like at the mall when we passed I wrote it off as shop bells. Then when I got here and we bumped into each other I just knew it was actually him. And when we touched it was like I was struck by lightning.” Your face must show incredulity because she just smiles at you.

“I know, I know. It sounds super cliche but it’s true. Though now that we’ve touched a lot more it’s wearing down.” She giggles, winking at him and reveling in the way the blush burns brighter. He sticks his hand out to you after squeezing her waist and you stare at it for a moment before reaching out to shake it.

“Hi, I’m Hoseok. You can call me Hobi though.” His smile takes the form of a heart as he grins at you and Mina practically squeals.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’d love to talk later but I have to use the bathroom.” You nod behind them and Hoseok seems to realize he’s standing in the doorway and moves aside bashfully.

“So sorry! Didn’t realize I was still standing there.” You just give him a tight-lipped smile and nod, moving past them quickly. Your silence seems to be what draws Mina’s concern, a tentative hand coming to grab your forearm lightly.

“Y/n-“ She starts but you gently brush her off.

“I’m fine. Really don’t worry about me.” You say softly before locking the door and sliding down it. It’s in the comfort of the quiet bathroom that you allow the tears to freely fall and mourn the soulmate you didn’t have.

22 hours, 45 minutes, 35 seconds until Christmas

You finally find Songi, a random cat cuddled up in her arms as she’s squished into a small chair nestled by the kitchen. She’s a little hazy in your mind, it feels a bit like you’re looking at her underwater, and you smile at her lazily before plopping down into her lap. “Be careful!” She scolds, holding the cat up higher so it’s curled into her chest instead. You just blink slowly at her in response and she sighs. “How much did you drink tonight?”

“After I cried for like thirty minutes I stole a bottle of peppermint schnapps and drank the whole thing.” You sigh, resting your head against her own.

“Why’d you cry? I wish you would’ve told me you were upset, I would’ve suggested we leave right away.”

“Park Jimin already has a soulmate…it’s not me. I know chances were already slim because he’s Park Jimin and well, I’m me but I just thought maybe this would be it. I finally would have someone to share everything with and I wouldn’t.. be so lonely.” You murmur out the last part, your drunken state revealing the thoughts that consumed you upon meeting Jisoo. No matter how much you mentally prepared yourself for the possibility of Jimin being a fluke, you weren’t ready for just how brutal the disappointment was.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being you. Besides I’d never let Park Jimin sit on my lap and yet here you are, perched upon a throne.” You can’t help the small giggle you let out. Songi always knows what to say to cheer you up.

“You’re so weird you know that? You’re the only person I know who refers to thighs as a throne.”

“Don’t judge me and my preferences. You drool over hands and I drool over thighs, it’s perfectly normal. Anyways, I know you mean romantically but I’ll always be here if you want someone to cry with or to yell at fictional characters about their stupidity with you. You’re my best friend.” Despite her hatred of hugs and physical contact Songi retracts her arms from the cat to put them around you instead, gently giving you a squeeze. It’s a little awkward because she’s terrible at hugs but you appreciate it nonetheless.

“How about we get out of here okay?” She suggests and you nod, wincing as your head starts to pound. The alcohol must be catching up to you. The pounding is then followed by ringing, and you hold your head in your hands as church bells ring in your ears. The world is truly out to make a mockery of your life.

“You okay? Here sit down a minute.” Songi ushers you into the chair as she hovers above you, rushing off to get some water for you.

“Taehyung really shouldn’t have been in charge of the playlist.” Someone from beside you sighs but you can’t look up at them for the sake of your pounding headache. “I think I’m going to have bells ringing in my head for days.” They sigh before they seem to notice you. “Hey you okay?” They ask, a hand placed on your shoulder in concern but the electricity that runs down your spine makes you gasp. Your skin prickles in goosebumps but Songi is just near enough that she takes your gasp as extreme pain instead of astonishment.

“I’m sorry I took so long!” She says, throwing your arm around her shoulders haphazardly before hauling you up and against her.

“Hey wait-“ The voice from beside you starts, but Songi brushes them off.

“Don’t worry I’m not gonna steal your cat this time. But don’t let him roam around with a bunch of drunk people. I almost saw him get stepped on five times by idiots.” For a brief second you manage enough strength to turn your head without wanting to throw up and blearily lock eyes with a pair of chocolate brown ones. They’re swimming with something you can’t quite make out: pain, regret, longing. But then Songi calls your name and you turn away to make sure you don’t smack into the front door. It’s odd but you can feel a pit in your stomach the further you walk away and his eyes are imprinted on the back of your lids with every blink.

14 hours, 18 minutes, 22 seconds until Christmas

“Wake up bitches!” Mina screams, banging on your and Songi’s doors and you groan. Rolling over, you throw the pillow over your head and try to fall back asleep to avoid the way your head pounds. Mina throws your door open and you wince when it smacks against the wall next to it. “You can’t evade me.” She says, reaching for your comforter and trying to throw it off. However, you predicted this to happen when you flipped over and cling tightly to the fluffy bedding, expertly disrupting her evil plan. Mina huffs in annoyance and you hide your grin in your sheets before releasing a puff of air when she jumps on top of you. “Wake! Up!” She yells, jumping on top of you like you’re some human trampoline.

“You’re the worst kind of person.” You grumble, rolling over to come face to face with her smile.

“Thanks! Now I want to eat cookies for breakfast and I refuse to eat them alone like it’s a shameful activity.” True in her shameless fashion she’s only wearing a baggy t-shirt, her neck exposed and colored various shades of purple and red. Though your night was unexplainably horrible you’re glad at least someone had a good time.

“I want Songi’s cookies. Hers always look pretty.”

“You mean you don’t want to try my cinnamon bourbon toffee snickerdoodles? I saw it on tiktok and they took me two hours! I nearly set the oven on fire!” You wrinkle your nose at the memory of two days ago, and coming home from finishing up one of your last papers to her covered in flour and the counters doused in eggs. It’s like she somehow got in a food fight with herself.

“And that’s precisely why they shouldn’t exist in the first place. You didn’t even know how to turn on the oven.” Songi murmurs, leant against your doorway.

“You’re all ungrateful, uncultured swines.” She huffs, though she still proceeds to make you all hot chocolates when you emerge from your room. The three of your are sat at the kitchen counter, plates full of cookies and Songi’s mom’s homemade fudge. If anything can cure a hangover it’s gorging yourself on unhealthy food.

“Did I ever tell you one kid in high school called me an uncultured swine because I didn’t know the rat from the ninja turtles?” Songi says, munching on her own frosted sugar cookie. It was her first attempt at a 3D wreath but turned out to be more like a bush of frosting. For most it’d be deemed to sweet and disgusting to ingest but Songi happily licks away at the icing.

“What is the rat’s name?” Mina asks, and Songi just shrugs.

“I still don’t know honestly.”

“Why were you up so early anyways? Don’t you normally sleep until noon?” You ask Mina, noticing the way she turns away from you almost shyly.

“Hobi slept over and he had to go back to work early to return the Santa suits he stole before his boss found out.” The Santa suits spring a memory to mind and you suddenly recall seeing more than just one. Though Jimin did mention there being others, you only saw Hobi and Jin wearing them.

“Why were so many people wearing Santa suits anyways? I thought Jin wanted to be the only one.”

“The only slutty one, so naturally he was wearing the top of the suit like a robe and cut the pants into thot shorts. Hobi was understandably pissed about that one since they were only borrowing the suits after all. But it was some bet, he told me about it last night but I was too drunk to remember.” Looking into your drink the swirling chocolate then reminds you of eyes and the tingling feeling down your back when a warm palm rested on your shoulder.

“Holy shit!” You exclaim, suddenly standing up and running to your room. Mina and Songi are hot on your heels, watching curiously as you bounce around on one foot while struggling to pull your jeans over your thighs and hips.

“Where are you going?” Songi asks and you widen your eyes at the realization that she’s the only one who would’ve seen their face.

“Songi who did you see before you took me home? Who had their hand on my shoulder?” You ask, running up to grab her by the upper arms and shake her almost desperately. “Songi I need to know who it was.”

“What’s this all about? Did they steal from you or something?” Mina asks and you throw your head back in a frustrated groan.

“No they’re my soulmate!”

“Babe-“ Mina starts and your glare at the pity in her expression.

“I’m being serious. I felt the sparks or whatever and I can see his eyes when we walked away. I just can’t remember anything else. Songi you have to remember who they were.” You plead to the both of them and they look back at you rather sadly.

“I’m sorry but I’ve never seen them before. I think they were wearing a Santa costume but I don’t remember much else about them.” She says and you can’t help but deflate. You actually found your soulmate and got so drunk you can’t remember anything about them. Great.

“Are you sure they’re your soulmate anyways. I passed by you later that night and you seemed pretty wasted but maybe after Jimin you just thought-“

“No I didn’t make up a soulmate just because I was depressed that Jimin wasn’t mine. You know how you just knew with Hoseok? Well I just know with him. How many people were wearing Santa costumes?”

“Six.” Mina says but Songi disagrees and says there’s seven.

“A guy came in later with another suit. That’s how I found the cat, it was just following him around and I heard the little bell on the collar.”

“You-you heard a cat bell at a party filled with drunk people screaming?” Mina asks, her face twisted up in confusion. You have to admit that does seem like it’s rather unlikely that someone would be able to discern such a quiet sound with so much commotion.

“I have exceptional hearing, of course I heard it. Besides this isn’t some fanfic where we all find our soulmates in the same place. The guy did have a pretty face though, I wouldn’t mind looking at it upon closer inspection.” Songi shrugs, staring off dreamily like the cat guy is standing right in front of her.

“Do you think Hobi can give me the name of the guys he leant the suits to?” You ask and Mina sighs.

“Just don’t get your hopes up too much okay? Songi only thinks he was wearing a Santa costume. I just don’t want to see you heartbroken again.” She pats your head softly, almost motherly, and you give her your best smile.

13 hours, 45 minutes, 36 seconds until Christmas

The name Min Yoongi swirls around your brain as you stand outside of Bored and Brewed. It’s tucked between a music supply store and a flower shop, leafy plants hanging above the entrance and the large front windows blocked in by thin rectangular frames. You can see warm lights strewn across the cafe from outside, casting it in a golden hue as soft pink chairs and petal green couches decorate the inside. The bell above you jingles and you tersely smile, flashbacks of your embarrassment from misinterpreting a common sound during the holiday season returning. Hoseok gave no description of what Min Yoongi would look like, only stating that he’s a frequenter of this specific cafe given it’s proximity to your university’s music school buildings. Though Jimin mentioned all his friends were leaving today, you’re still hopeful that your soulmate will stick around long enough for you to find them. This is a matter of fate after all, the universe wouldn’t allow you to meet them before Christmas only to end up spending the day alone right? No matter how cruel the world normally seems you refuse to believe it would do this to you.

Upon entry the guy behind the counter smiles at you, then goes back to busying himself on the phone while you look at the menu. You’re not one for liking strong coffee, so your eyes naturally linger towards the sweeter drinks that are on the special menu. The bell to the shop rings again but you don’t pay it any mind, too fixated on trying to figure out what you want.

“I wouldn’t get the peppermint drink if I were you. They load it with sugar and whipped cream so it doesn’t taste like anything.” A voice from behind you says and you nod along. “I’d get the sugar cookie one, it’s not super sweet but also has a nice flavor. It’s the only thing I get that’s not actual coffee.” He hums and you decide to go ahead and order that before you make the guy behind you wait any longer.

“Make that two. I’m feeling particularly generous today.” He hands over some cash before you can say anything and you whip around to face him. Wavy black hair covers his brows, most of it tucked inside a gray beanie. A baggy hoodie and black skinny jeans adorn the rest of his figure and he gives you a tight lipped smile with the edges quirked upwards.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to.” You say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You follow him to the pick up area for your drinks, tucking your hands into your pockets to try and hide your nervous fiddling.

“I try to do a good deed every day so today that’s you it seems.” His voice is low and soft, a quiet rumbling in the wind.

“Well I appreciate it.” You say and silence falls between the two of you. Your mind is searching for something to say to fill the silence but the barista comes by with your two drinks. You’re about to just leave the conversation at the polite end but the barista’s words catches your attention.

“Feel free to buy me a drink sometime Yoongi.” He laughs.

“Yoongi?” You ask and the boy with the beanie turns back to you.

“Yeah?”

“As in Min Yoongi. Hobi’s friend?” You press further and the boy’s confusion turns to skepticism.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well you see I met my soulmate last night at the party but I don’t remember who they were, just that they were wearing a Santa costume.” You murmur, following behind when Yoongi makes a move to leave the shop.

“I’m sorry but I don’t believe in soulmates. I think you should have a say in who’s right for you.” Despite the coldness of his words, his tone is still soft- sympathetic almost.

“Yoongi wait!” You exclaim, grabbing onto his wrist with your own hand. The bell above the store chimes above you and for a second you allow yourself to believe you’re the one to change how Yoongi feels about soulmates. And yet you feel no goosebumps when your skin touches his, only the slightly dry texture of his palm when he gently takes your hand off him. “The-the bells. I can’t lose my soulmate again, please.” The end comes off as a whisper and Yoongi must take pity on you because he gives you a gentle smile.

“The bells were from above the door. But I can give you the name of another Santa, his name is Jin. He’s the one who hosted the party. He works at the restaurant I play piano for, he should be there picking up his check because the manager is old fashioned. If you hurry you can probably catch him. Two blocks down, it’s the fancy place with the stupid golden archway like a high end McDonalds.” He pats your upper arm twice before walking away. Though you miss the way he turns to watch you run around the small corner mumbling a small good luck at your parting figure.

13 hours, 30 minutes, 23 seconds until Christmas

Yoongi wasn’t lying when he said the place did have a strange high-end McDonalds feel. The golden arches are spotless, reflecting the red and green lights scattered in some windows of the buildings across the street. The doors are large french ones with gold painted around the trim and a guy in a butler’s outfit opens them for you. You thank him before heading inside, observing the grandiose chandeliers and poinsettias decorating the host stand. A girl with long blonde hair smiles at you before asking if you need a table.

“Actually I was looking for Jin? He has blonde hair and really wide shoulders.” It’s the only information Yoongi offered but the girl in front of you nods in understanding and you can’t help the sigh of relief you let out.

“He just came in to get something so I’ll find him and let him know you’re waiting for him. Can I get your name?”

“Umm just tell him Hobi’s friend is waiting.” You say nervously, pulling at the strings of your sweater to busy yourself. She just nods before walking away and you stuff three of the free mints in your mouth to try and ease yourself. That is before you realize they’re peppermint flavored and instantly start gagging as the taste of last night’s peppermint liquor surfaces. With your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from gagging, Jin walks into the lobby and spots you. His eyes widen in recognition, sparkling as he gets nearer. And as he draws closer a distant tinkling sounds rings out and your eyes water with tears. Is your soulmate perhaps the sluttiest Santa of them all?

“I’d remember you from anywhere. You stole my entire bottle of Peppermint Schnapps out of my secret liquor cabinet. I’m surprised you could reach it to be honest, I have to climb on the counter to grab it myself so you must’ve done some serious spider man shit.” He smiles and you wish the ground would swallow you whole. You have no recollection of doing that. What had Mina put in your first drink?

“Ahh yes. I was hoping I could speak to you privately.” Your eyes dart to the blonde hostess, perched on the host stand and conveniently leaning toward the two of you to hear closer.

“I was going to steal some food from the back before I left. You want anything?” He asks, walking towards the kitchen with you following him like some lovesick puppy. At this point you refuse to let your soulmate be taken from you any longer.

“What do you have?”

“Anything you could ever want. I’m heading home after this so I need some snacks for the drive.” He picks up a baguette and fruit, before opening the freezer and pulling out ready made desserts and quiches. “You think the caviar is here yet?” He asks to himself before rifling through some more shelves and letting out a loud ‘aha!’

“You hold this.” He says, giving you the expensive caviar and gesturing for you to hide it under your shirt.

“You want me to smuggle it out?” You exclaim and Jin quickly shushes you.

“It’s not smuggling, it’s borrowing. If there’s any left I’ll return it.” He says, pushing you away from the kitchen and walking normally like he doesn’t have a baguette and many other foods in his arms.

“Isn’t that a health violation?” You ask and Jin rolls his eyes.

“What are you? The health inspector? Besides you weren’t worried about health violations last night.” He says, leading you towards the front. The tinkling sound is particularly loud here and you finally gather the courage to question him about your real intentions.

“Speaking of last night, I don’t actually remember much. But I do know I found my soulmate.” You start, looking towards him and Jin hums in acknowledgement. “And he was wearing a Santa suit…so as you know, you were also wearing one. So I was thinking-“

“I’m your soulmate?” Jin says and you nearly drop the bowl of caviar that’s tucked underneath your shirt.

“You are? Honestly that’s such a relief because I’ve been stressing myself out about trying to find them before it was actually Christmas so I don’t have to spend another alone. You said you were having to go to your family’s right? Would I be able to come with? I know we’ve only just met but I can’t imagine having to be alone again and-“ Seokjin has tucked the baguette under his arm, a finger pressed delicately to your lips.

“This is very flattering, truly the sweetest soulmate confession I’ve received thus far. But I have to stop you because I’m not your soulmate. You think you’re hearing bells right? The bus boys are polishing all the glasses and they always knock them into each other.” When he sees your eyes water again he gently wipes the falling tears. “I know you’re looking to find them and I want to help you. You said it was a Santa right? Lucky for you all my friend’s wore the costume because of Taehyung’s punishment. They were betting the length of time it would take Taehyung to smuggle a cat out of the shelter he works at. If you ask me I think it was rigged since Taehyung was the determinator of the bet length but my friends are stupid at best so they overlooked that. I was going to be slutty Santa anyways so I didn’t really care what they did. The only surprise was Taehyung being a freak and wearing a suit as well. Can you believe it was just because he wanted to be festive and not to get someone to sit in his lap?”

You can only sniffle and nod, internally questioning if trying to find your soulmate today was really a good idea. Mina did warn you about the potential heartbreak but you had been stubborn and unwilling to listen. The universe has had it out for you thus far, so why would it suddenly take pity on you and make things easy? “Hey, hey don’t give up. I’ll send you the shelter address and you can stop by when you’re ready. He should be there all day, his family is coming up here tomorrow so he has nothing better to do.” Jin says.

“You don’t think this is stupid? That I’m searching for something that clearly wasn’t meant to happen?”

“I don’t think any matter of the heart is something to criticize. If you really wanna find your soulmate you will, I believe in you. And Hobi must’ve believed in you too if he gave you our government names and locations. He wouldn’t give them out to strangers he didn’t trust. Or at least I hope he doesn’t, I’m much too beautiful to be held hostage.”

“Thanks Jin. That was oddly encouraging.”

“There’s nothing that a pretty face can’t fix. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must coast to the gas station and stand there until someone offers to pay for me. The sugar daddies are normally out right about now so that’s my queue. And when you find your soulmate, tell him he and his garbage truck stomach owe me groceries.”

“You know who it is?” You ask and Jin only shrugs.

“Maybe, maybe not. I’ll see you at the next party y/n.” He winks.

12 hours, 28 minutes, 12 seconds until Christmas

“Did you find them?” Songi asks excitedly when you enter the apartment and you shake your head in reply. You’re not exactly completely discouraged but you feel nowhere near as excited and prepared as you were earlier. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” She asks, tentatively sitting on the couch beside you.

“Can we just watch a fun movie or something? i don’t really want to think at the moment.”

“How about a drama instead? Someone I know really loves Goblin.” She sings, already reaching for the remote.

“Goblin would be nice. It’s been a while since I’ve watched it.” You hum, snuggling under a fluffy blanket thrown across the back of the couch and curling up next to Songi.

“You want some popcorn? I can make hot chocolate or something if you want.” She offers but you shake your head and lean your head on her shoulder.

“I just want to mindlessly watch some dramas and pretend I’m the main characters.” You say and she merely nods before turning Goblin on.

“We can do that.” You both settle in comfortably, your body easing as the stress and emotional toll begin to weigh on you. Maybe what you needed was to just relax before putting yourself back out there. Besides Taehyung was supposed to be at the shelter all day, you had plenty of time. And even if you missed Taehyung, even if you didn’t find your soulmate by Christmas, you wouldn’t truly be alone. You had Songi right here with you, someone who had already offered to bring you with her when she saw her family tomorrow. It was with this warming realization that you finally allowed yourself to stop thinking, and close your eyes to get a peaceful sleep.

8 hours, 32 minutes, 56 seconds until Christmas

“You two took a nap and I wasn’t invited? You know napping is my favorite part of the day.” Mina whines, setting bags down onto the kitchen counter before squeezing between you and Songi on the couch. “Oo I love this scene! Though I have to say Nam Joo Hyuk’s swim scenes in weightlifting fairy were the best part of any drama I’ve seen thus far. When I tell you I almost drooled.” She sighs, batting away the pillow that Songi attempts to hit her with.

“How dare you talk about my man like that.” Songi huffs dramatically before pouting. “Besides he’s best as Nam Do San. If I could marry any character it’d be him.”

“He’s cute but I wouldn’t want him.” You say.

“Yes, yes. We all know you like your men older.” Mina cackles, wiggling her eyebrows at you suggestively.

“Hey they don’t have to be! I just- I don’t know, I want someone who could take care of me.”

“In all ways.” Mina giggles, her voice choked when you smack her dead in the face with the pillow beside you.

“None of that in my christian household!” You giggle to which she gasps, accosted.

“Then tell Songi to stop her weird thigh club thing!”

“I am part of the weightlifting club it’s not my fault we focus on squats!” Songi says, her voice rising significantly higher as she attempts to defend herself.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t join because you heard Wonho was the president.” Mina challenges, giggling when Songi’s cheeks bloom pretty roses.

��Sh-shut up. If you can have your hoe hours so can I. Besides Wonho’s my friend now, so I don’t admire them as much anymore.”

“You’re right, you admire them respectfully.” You add, laughing harder when Songi flips you off in retaliation.

“I hate you all. I need someone who will truly love me and be on my side.” She whines, standing up and moving to put on her shoes by the front door.

“Where are you going now?” Mina asks.

“To get a cat!” Songi exclaims, grabbing her bag off the rack by the door and storming out. You know she’s not really mad, but you also know there’s a one-hundred percent chance she’s coming back with a cat despite your lease directly stating it doesn’t allow animals.

You settle back onto the couch before your eyes widen and you jump up to put on your own shoes. “And where are you going?”

“I need to go to the shelter to see Taehyung and Songi’s the only one with a car!” You shout, running out the door and after her. You sprint down the stairs, it’s the most exercise you think you’ve gotten this year, and make it into the parking garage just as Songi unlocks her car. “Songi wait! Let me come with.” You yell, crossing over to her and throwing the passenger door open before she can say no.

“If you’re also getting a cat I get first dibs. It was my idea after all.” She says, waiting patiently for you to buckle up before pulling out. “Hey can you find directions for the nearest shelter? I know there’s one on third but I have no idea where third is.”

“Yeah I have the address for one.” You say, pulling up the place Jin sent you.

8 hours, 16 minutes, 24 seconds

The shelter itself is pretty small, but there’s a large fenced-in play area in the back. It’s filled with new toys and the sight makes you smile, especially at the few puppies that topple over each other when they trip while chasing one another. Your eyes linger on them a little longer and your heart pangs a little as you miss your dog from back home. You were supposed to see your family this winter season but all the flights in your home city were too expensive so you’ll have to see them after New Years instead. While you’ll get to see your family in a little over a week, you still miss them greatly especially when everyone is talking about going home to their own families.

“Do you want a dog instead?” Songi asks and you shake your head.

“No I don’t think I’m getting any pets. I have a umm friend who works here though.” You say, tucking your arm around hers and dragging her inside.

“Do you think they’ll give me a discount?” She asks, squeezing your arm when you tense at the little bell ringing above the door. At this point you hate bells and anything that has to deal with them.

“Maybe.”

“I’ll give you them free if you get two.” A smooth voice says, a boy with a black mullet and sharp eyebrows stepping in from the back. He smiles widely at you, rosy lips drawing into an almost blinding smile.

“Two might be a bit much for us.” You laugh stiffly. “I think we’re fine with just one.”

“Cat or dog?” He asks.

“Cat. Do you have any old cats? I’d like to give an elder guy a happy home.” Songi smiles and the beautiful man’s brows pinch.

“Taehyung is more familiar with the cats, I’ll go get him so he can show you around.”

“Sweet, thanks.” She says with a nod, tapping her feet to an imaginary beat. “Do you think I’ll find one that likes me? What if they all hate me?” Songi asks you, worry painted in her features.

“I’m sure they’ll all adore you. You’re difficult to not love.” You tell her, her shoulders sagging in relief.

“I just want to give them all the love in the world.” She says. “Oh do you think they sell collars? Something’s jingling.” She comments and before you can say anything the boy you first ran into last night appears. His boxy smile graces his features, dark eyes and long lashes fluttering as his gaze fixates on Songi.

“You’re the one looking for a cat?” He asks, his baritone voice causing a blush to rise to her skin. In fact, his voice when paired with his features seems to have glitched her brain out because she’s not moving at all. Her mouth is agape, her eyes wide as she takes in Taehyung. Several seconds have passed and she has yet to even so much as breathe. You nudge her shoulder and she seems to reboot, giving him a sheepish smile.

“Yeah.” She says breathily.

“Jaebum told me you wanted one of the older ones. I’ll show you the ones who’ve been here the longest too.” He says, urging you to follow him through the door on the left. “The first section is where we keep the older ones, hoping they’ll catch someone’s eye before they see the kittens.” He explains, gesturing to a large enclosure filled with cat beds and towers.

“Can we go inside?” Songi asks and Taehyung nods, opening the gate and allowing you both to enter before a cat can escape. Songi instantly takes a liking to a white fluffy one that’s sprawled on a blue bed in the corner. It’s ears twitch with each step she makes and she pauses when she’s an arms reach away.

“Hello.” She begins introducing herself to the cat and your eyes flicker to Taehyung who gazes at her almost fondly. Your stomach sinks because it’s clear you’re much more aware that Taehyung doesn’t have a belled collar in his pocket than Songi. Seeing her so clueless to her inevitable soulmate standing so close by allows you to give yourself forgiveness for being so clueless yesterday.

“That one’s named Gucci. Named him myself because he’s a rare breed.”

“Does that mean he’s going to be expensive too?” She jokes.

“Probably, he’s an old guy after all. Sometimes they develop health complications. This boy right here is thirteen and has been here for about two years I think?” Taehyung supplies and Songi immediately frowns.

“My poor baby.” She coos, gently reaching forward to scratch behind his ear and then further under his chin. “You wanna come live at my house? I’ll sneak you all the chicken you want.”

The cat just blinks at her, rather slowly, before sniffing her palm. Songi immediately takes this as a yes and tells Taehyung that she’ll take him. “A good choice if I must say so myself. You two look cute together.” Taehyung smiles before his eyes widen until they’re nearly entirely round like he didn’t realize what he was saying until it was already out of his mouth. He doesn’t retract them or try and make them less flirtatious however. He merely just walks away with a slight blush decorating the apples of his cheeks while mumbling about leaving to get paper work and a soft crate.

“You like him right?’ Songi asks and you just shrug despite the large smile pulling at your face.

“Taehyung? He seems really sweet.” You giggle to which she shushes you vehemently.

“He might hear you! Besides he’s way out of my league, there’s no way he’d like me back. Plus I already have a man in my life and he’s right here.” She tugs Gucci into her lap, pressing a small kiss to his nose.

“I will not let you turn into a cat lady. You’re already a hermit at twenty.”

“But people make me nervous.” She whines. Taehyung enters again before you can comment any further, the soft crate draped over his shoulder with a fluffy blanket tucked inside.

“I’ll come in with you and when you’re done signing, I’ll put him in the crate. Sometimes they put up a fight when you try and get them in there and I don’t want him scratching you.” Taehyung tells Songi and she just nods along. You can tell she’s stalling because the two pages takes her about five minutes, as she pretends to care about having neat handwriting. You’re pretty sure she’s working up the nerve to say something to Taehyung so you decide to do it for her.

“Taehyung do you have a collar on you? I think Gucci would look really cute with one with like a bowtie bell.” You ask and his mouth parts slightly open, brows pulled together in confusion. It gives off a similar vibe to when your puppy cocks his head to the side when it can’t figure out what you’re saying.

“We don’t have any collars here. We don’t want the animals to get caught on anything and owners usually like to pick out their own.”

“You mean you don’t have one in your pocket?” Songi asks, equally as confused. You love her but for being so academically smart she can be so slow.

“No.” Taehyung says before turning to her with startled eyes. “You can hear bells?”

“Yeah. Should I not be able to?”

“I can hear them too!” He yells, startling half the cats but he pays them no mind as he pulls her into a tight embrace. “I’m so happy, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you…my soulmate.” He says it dreamily even though Songi is right in front of him and although your chances of finding your own is dwindling significantly you can’t help but be happy for your friend. She’s lit up under Taehyung’s attention, smiling so wide you think your own cheeks are starting to hurt. “And you my little man,” Taehyung says, squishing Gucci’s head between his large hands. “I’m going to be your dad!”

7 hours, 45 minutes, 31 seconds until Christmas

After finally convincing Taehyung to let Songi go, only under the terms that you’ll meet him at a nearby diner to get food, you wind up back in your apartment. Mina is gone, probably either on her way home or out with Hoseok so it’s quiet when Songi enters with Gucci. It’s probably a good thing as Taehyung warned you both that moving was quite stressful for a cat and he’d want a quiet room to hang out by himself until he felt comfortable. Gingerly taking him to her room, Songi sets up his things before opening Gucci’s crate and quietly closing the door. “I hope he doesn’t pee on my stuff.” She comments suddenly.

“I doubt it. He probably won’t even leave the crate for a few hours.”

“You think he’ll like it here?” Songi asks, following you out of the apartment and back down to her car. Taehyung wanted to go to somewhere near his work since he biked there this morning and Songi was happy to oblige even if she normally hates driving at night.

“I think so, I know you’ll shower him with as much love as you can. He’d have no reason not to like it.”

“Taehyung?” She asks, laughing to herself for parroting you from earlier. “I know, you meant the cat. But on a serious note, the cat will like me better than him right? It’d be so depressing for my cat to like my boyfriend more than me.”

“Mmm that one is hard. Your boyfriend is scarily beautiful.”

“Hey! You’re supposed to be on my side.” Songi whines.

“I am, I’m just speaking facts. It doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful too.” Your phone buzzes and it’s a text from Mina asking what your plans are for tonight. You guess Mina didn’t go home after all.

“Is it okay if Mina comes along? Hobi’s probably with her too.” You ask, already typing out a reply because you know Songi will agree.

“That’s fine. But hey, can you give me directions again? I really don’t know where I’m supposed to be going.”

4 hours, 47 minutes, 27 seconds until Christmas

Songi is sidled up beside Taehyung, his arm resting on her leg while Hobi has his arm wrapped around Mina’s shoulders. You’re all crammed inside a small circular booth, mountains of food spread around the table as you joke around about nothing in particular. You had forgotten Taehyung and Hobi were close friends, having met so many of said friends that it feels like everyone is just a friend of a friend. And yet despite being the only one without a significant other, you don’t feel left out or lonely. In fact, you’re the happiest you’ve been these past two days as you listen to Taehyung ramble on about the time he had to streak across campus.

“Should I be horrified that the campus security guards know what my boyfriend’s dick looks like before I do?” Songi laughs.

“Hey they only got a preview, you get the full movie.” She giggles to which you all collectively groan.

“Gross!” Songi says, making Taehyung beside her pout.

“I don’t know why I thought finding Hobi would make you any less shameless.” You chuckle.

“Hey you all love me like this. Take it or leave it as they say.” Mina says, dipping a fry in ranch before popping it into her mouth. “You sure you can handle all this Hobi?” She asks to which he only winks. Lord help you, there’s two of them.

“I think our best moment was when we convinced Namjoon to sneak into the science labs and set all the testing rats free. Imagine this like six foot tall man screaming as a bunch of little white rats chase after him.” Taehyung giggles.

“What he didn’t know was that Jungkook had stuffed cheese into the pockets of his cargo pants so the rats were trying to get a midnight snack.” Hobi snickers.

“Where’d they all go?” Songi asks.

“They just kinda scattered around campus. I’m sure half of them live near the dining halls now.” Hobi says.

“Do you think they formed packs? Or are they like Remy from Ratatouille and are going to take over as chefs. The dining halls could really use an upgrade. Remember when we used to trek across campus just to get a decent dinner?” Taehyung asks.

“I’m not sure. Why don’t you two go and ask them?” Mina snickers.

“Jungkook.” They both say suddenly like that’s a reasonable and valid answer.

“Jungkook.” You repeat, the words somewhat familiar on your tongue. Why did you know that name? Pulling out your phone you look back to the list of names Hoseok had given you of those who wore Santa costumes and gasp. “Jungkook!”

“Yes that is his name.” Taehyung adds dryly.

“Jungkook was wearing a Santa suit! At the party. He’s one of the two left. Do you know where I can find him?” You ask and Hobi shrugs.

“He’s probably gone home by this hour. He was whining so much about missing his mom that I’m sure he left earlier this morning to go see her sooner.” You visibly deflate and Taehyung decides to offer up additional advice.

“Jungkook and Namjoon live together. That’s two of your list right? I’ll send you the address and you can see if anyone is home.”

“Don’t you think that’s a violation of privacy?” Hobi whispers.

“Nah it’s fine. A bunch of porn sights probably track their location with all the viruses Namjoon downloads anyways.” Taehyung says this so casually that you wonder if a big part of Namjoon’s personality is liking erotic videos. You really hope not, soulmate or not. You have a threshold for that type of conversation and Mina is relatively mild but even she regularly meets said threshold.

“Anyways, they’re not that far from here if you want me to walk you there. I live nearby anyways.” Taehyung offers.

“If you’re sure.”

“No problem.”

4 hours, 15 minutes, 53 seconds until Christmas

The apartment building is small, the colors muted brown and had Taehyung not pointed it out to you, you would’ve missed it entirely. The only source of light is small patio lights strewn between the buildings, the likes of which are only a few stories tall. Taehyung tells you the apartment number before riding off, leaving you to your own devices. Except, you realize too late that despite the buildings being rather old they’ve upgraded to modern systems. Which means you need a fob to get in. You could walk home and call it a night, but at this point you’re just annoyed and stubborn. So instead you meander through the convenience store for a half hour, pretending that you care about the difference between regular and kettle chips when you spot someone walking towards the gate. Abandoning the aisle, you hurry out of the store and cross the street.

“Hey! I lost my fob could you let me in?” You ask, a pleasant smile on your face to try and sway the guy. You can’t see his face well, it’s obscured by a black baseball cap but you can see the distrust in his eyes. “Please?” You try again.

“I guess.” He mumbles, holding the door for you to slip inside. You have half a mind to warn him against doing such things in the case of strangers only to realize that you are the stranger in this situation.

“Thanks!” You say, hurrying away before he can kick you out. The guy working the convenience store was definitely taking note of your blatant loitering and he didn’t seem like the type to ignore it. It turns out the building coordination here is quite complex because while you’d think 101-106 would be on the right and 093-100 on the left, 093-100 is actually the next building over. It’s like they put the apartment numbers in a random generator and just let that decide the order. You’re making your fifth round of building B like a creep when you decide to just sit in the stairwell in shame. It’s clear this apartment complex is your own personal form of hell for trying to best the soulmate system which so clearly doesn’t want you to find your soulmate before the holidays. You already have your phone out to call Mina and express your woes when you hear the door below you attached to the stairwell open. Before you can scramble out of the way a pair of multicolored chunky sneakers stand on the step beneath your own.

“You okay?” The stranger asks and you just nod. “Are you sure? You look a little lost.”

“Metaphorically and physically, yes I am very lost. I have somehow found my soulmate and forgot them within the same day, I’ve been running around the city chasing after fucking Santa like an insane person and I have no idea where the fuck apartment 387 is.” You sigh, glad to release at least some of your pent up frustration. The stranger takes a minute before holding out a hand for you to grab.

“Lucky for you I happen to know where apartment 387 is.” His smile is indented by deep dimples, nicely framing thick lips.

“Really?” You ask, slipping your hand into his own and allowing him to drag you up.

“Sure thing. If you’re this determined to meet your soulmate I’m sure they’re equally distraught at not finding you yet.” He offers thoughtfully and you just hum.

“I don’t know, don’t you think I’d have run into them by now? I’ve been all around the city today.”

“Two moving pieces are just as hard to connect as two not moving at all.” The stranger offers before stopping in front of door 387. Just as you’re about to thank him he unlocks it and looks back at you with a wide smile. “How about you come in and have a drink? He should be home soon anyways. Probably equally as frustrated as yourself.”

“If it’s not a bother…”

“Hey you’re my best friend’s soulmate, you’ll never be a bother. Besides I try and do one good deed a day, so reuniting lost lovers can be that.”

“Funny, Yoongi said the same thing.” You muse to yourself.

“Who do you think taught him? I’m Namjoon by the way.” You freeze, mind struggling to pair the apparent porn addict with the insightful, sophisticated man in front of you. He notices this pause and frowns. “What did one of my idiots for friends say?”

“Uhh…maybe just something about porn.” You mumble and Namjoon just takes a moment to deeply sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

“You should know they’re the ones who asked me to download it.” He huffs. “Chamomile or hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate is just fine.” You say, taking a a moment to observe the apartment. It’s decorated rather warmly, rich browns and black melding with soft orange. It feels a bit like you’re sitting at the edge of a bonfire, admiring the pretty glow it casts on everything. “Your decoration is really nice.” You say, taking note of the little wooden figures strewn across the living room. A small glass bunny makes you smile.

“Thanks I decorated it myself. I double major in interior design and business.”

“You think you could decorate my apartment? It’s terribly bland because my roommates and I all have different taste in decorating.”

“Sure thing, send me the dimensions and I’ll pick some stuff out. A lot of this is thrifted or from local vintage shops, so it’s not nearly as expensive as it seems.”

“Smart shopping, very sustainable.”

“What can I say? I’m a glutton for shopping but a stickler for lessening environmental footprints.” Namjoon says and you laugh, hiding your smile behind the mug he hands you. He even went so far as to add whipped cream at the top with chocolate shavings.

“Thank you. This is the best hot chocolate I’ve had so far.”

“Cool! I got some imported Belgian chocolate and-“

“Joonie I can’t do this anymore.” A third voice sounds before their body even enters the apartment, the front door thrown open carelessly as they flop themselves onto the couch. A jingle plays itself in your head, the bells have a rather bright sound. Namjoon urges you forward and you carry your mug with you just to keep your hands from shaking. “I’ve gone all over the city for nothing and of course when I come home to wallow in pity the bells are mocking me. They’re getting louder with each passing second Namjoon!” They whine, voice slightly muffled by the pillow.

“Would you like a hot chocolate?” You ask and they sit up so quickly that you jump back, sloshing some of the hot liquid onto your wrist. “Fuck! That’s so hot.” You whine, your supposed soulmate jumping over the back of the couch and holding your wrist gently in their hand.

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” They say, but you can’t even feel the burn because your nerves are too focused on his touch. Goosebumps scatter across your skin, as he hurries you into the kitchen to run cold water over your wrist. His mouth is moving a mile a minute, murmuring apologies and yet you can only fixate on the mole on his lower lip and the way his dark hair hangs in his eyes, long lashes blinking away stray strands. His nose is strong, a pretty curve making it much too enticing for you to not kiss it at least once. He seems to notice you’re not paying attention because he finally turns to face you head on and it’s only then does he seem to recognize you.

Similarly to last time his eyes are wide, several emotions running through them that you attempt to read: confusion, surprise, relief. He almost sags against you, pulling you into him before you can even think of anything to say. With your nose tucked into his neck, you can feel his small tremors and attempt to suppress them by pulling him in tighter. “I-I didn’t think-“

“I know.” You shush him softly, taking in how warm and solid he is, how real he feels beneath your palms. He smells like fresh linen, and when he finally pulls far away enough that you can look into his eyes you kiss the tip of his nose. His cheeks flush but the hands on your waist tighten. “I’ve looked everywhere for you, you know?”

He scoffs. “I could say the same. Why’d you disappear yesterday? I thought maybe you realized you didn’t..want me.”

“That could and would never be it.” You reassure him, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face. “I hate for this to be our first meeting but I was super drunk when we met. I couldn’t really think and my friend thought I was really sick so she took me home before I had the chance to say anything.”

“Jin did say you drank an entire bottle of schnapps. Thanks for that by the way, now I owe him a new bottle.”

“He knew?! Why didn’t he save us the heartbreak and force us together?” You ask and he turns his head towards the small kitchen window.

Scratching the back of his neck, he mumbles, “that might’ve been my fault. I was supposed to be hosting with Joon but decided I didn’t want the mess. By then word already got out so someone had to host. You could say this was my punishment that you unfortunately had to suffer through as well.”

“Next time I’m going to pour his schnapps down the drain instead. Better yet, we’ll buy a bottle, drink it and replace it with thick water!” You huff and he smiles.

“I like the way you think. But what is thick water?”

“I heard it’s the consistency of snot. I guess drinkable jello would be the closest texture.” He scrunches his nose in distaste and you smile. He’s so cute.

“I uhh-I’m Jungkook by the way. I don’t think I mentioned that.”

“Y/n.” He stares at you for a moment before placing both hands on your cheeks and placing a tender kiss to your lips. It’s soft and warm, very much like the man who stands in front of you.

“You’re the best gift I could’ve ever asked for.” He says and despite the cheesy line the sincerity with which he speaks warms you. His hand falls to your own, only when he brushes against your wrist do you hiss and the moment is broken. “Shit, I forgot. Don’t worry baby, I took sports medicine in high school, I’ll fix it up real quick.”

0 hours, 0 minutes, 10 seconds

Jungkook’s arms wrap tightly around your frame, the both of you cuddled into the thickest blanket he could find as you gaze at the city around you. Your wrapped wrist sits carefully against your chest, a heart drawn over the fabric by Jungkook himself. The city lights are so pretty at night, the sky clear enough that if you strain your eyes you can even make out a few stars. The only stars you’re concerned about though are the ones in Jungkook’s eyes, glittering prettily as the sign from the convenience store across the street illuminates them. He takes a sip of Namjoon’s hot chocolate from a thermos before handing it to you, brushing your hair out of your face that’s been displaced by the slight breeze. Despite the fact that you’re both shivering you don’t think you’ve been this warm in a while. It’s part of the reason you insisted to stay out here just a little bit longer even though Jungkook’s warm bed is waiting for you downstairs. You just wanted to be in your own world a little longer, wanting to have an excuse to mold yourself as closely against Jungkook as humanly possible. Clicking his phone the time illuminates, 11:59, staring back at you before flicking to 12:00.

“Merry Christmas Jungkook.” You murmur pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as he smiles.

“Merry Christmas baby.” He says. Your eyes fall back onto his own and he’s looking at you as if you’re his whole world. You know your own mirror the same sentiment and you press closer to connect your lips to his own, writing your future along his tongue.

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may85 · 4 years

Text

Summary / Prompt(s) : New Year + Fluff 38. "You're the most beautiful thing that I've ever seen," 55. "I've been falling in loe with you since the first day we met."

Pairing: Jax Teller x Reader

TV Show: Sons of Anarchy

Word Count: 1112

Warnings: None

I pulled into TM slowly, the boxes of various liquor's making slight clinking noises in the back of the van.

The New Years party was akin to a Welcome Home party and plenty of alcohol was needed to keep Samcro happy. I had volunteered myself to go on the run, wanting to help in some way.

Putting the van in park, I hopped out and went to open the clubhouse door so that I could start taking stuff inside. The other crow eaters were bustling about as Gemma barked orders from the kitchen.

I smiled at a few as I passed them. Chucky was bringing out a glass rack full of shot glasses and placed them beneath the bar top.

"Do you need help, Y/N?" He asked.

I smiled and shook my head, "I got it. Thanks though!"

He nodded and did a little side hop, skip and jump back to the kitchen for more cups.

Going back to the van, I doubled up on boxes and carefully maneuvered around the door. I did this a few more times, getting nearly half of the van emptied.

I was bent over, reaching for a box when a swift smack landed on my ass, "The hell!?"

I rubbed my sore cheek and found Jax standing behind me with a cigarette dangling from his grinning lips.

"Ass,"

He laughed, blowing out the smoke before leaning over to give me a kiss, "Hey Darlin',"

"You're still an ass," I laughed, turning back around to grab the boxes that I planned on taking.

I heard Jax inhale his cigarette deeply, "Why aren't the Prospect's helping you?"

"Because I didn't ask for help,"

He raised a brow. I playfully rolled my eyes as I situated the two boxes of tequila, then proceeded to hip bump Jax as I passed him, "I'm fully capable of carrying boxes,"

Bottles clinked and Jax appeared next to me, carrying a couple boxes.

"Never said you weren't, Babe," he kissed my cheek and continued to help me empty the van.

Even though we were in the middle of winter, I was hot and decided to take my cardigan off.

Jax wrapped his arms around my waist, giving me a quick squeeze. He rested his lips on the crook of my neck and spoke softly, "Think we can sneak past Gemma?"

Just as I was about to respond, Gemma hollered for me from the kitchen. I let out an unlady like snort, making Jax chuckle.

"Looks like you got your answer big boy," I said, holding up a finger to Gemma. She grinned and went back to the kitchen.

Jax spun me around, his hands slipping into my back pockets, "See you later then?"

I pretended to think, my eyes squinted and tapping my lips while making a low humming sound, "Mayyyybe,"

He laughed, leaning forward to kiss me.

"Today, Y/N!" Gemma yelled.

I groaned, pulling back from his sinful kiss and wicked hands. Jax smacked my behind, biting his lip as I stepped away from him.

"You are so mean," I whispered to him.

He winked at me and turned to leave. Gah, that man was gonna be the death of me.

°°°°°°

The party was in full swing and the clubhouse was so packed that Jax and I had barely seen or spoken to one another. There was a haze of smoke filling the room and I was surprised that the smoke alarm hadn't gone off.

The closer it got to midnight, the more rowdy the bikers got and the more liquor got passed around. The noise and the smells were starting to get to me, so I decided to go outside for some fresh air.

My lungs were thankful once I breathed in the clean air. I took a seat on a table and could hear fireworks go off from down the street.

The clubhouse door opened, Jax coming out with his brow pinched.

"You okay, babe?" He asked, sitting down next to me. His hand rubbed my back, making my eyes close at the soothing motion.

I nodded, opening my eyes and smiling, "Yeah. Just needed some fresh air,"

Jax pulled me to him, his lips kissing my temple and resting there as he continued to rub my back.

"You're the most beautiful thing that I've ever seen," he whispered.

The blood rushed to my cheeks and I played with my fingers out of nervous habit. Jax chuckled and enjoyed my shyness. He'd told me once that it was a turn on for him whenever I blushed. I gently poked his side, making him laugh loudly.

It wasn't but a few minutes after that we could hear the crew start to count down. Jax stood and held out his hand.

I took it, enjoying the look and feel of his long fingers wrapping firmly around mine. He pulled me to him, my hands going to his chest.

He cupped my cheek with one, while the other hand rested in my back pocket. His thumb gently caressed the apple as we both smiled at one another.

10…

"I have a confession," I whispered.

Jax leaned forward, his lips millimeters from mine as he replied, "What is it?"

9…

I bit my lip totally nervous now.

8…

"I… I've been falling in loe with you since the first day we met."

7…

His eyes widened, just the slightest flare as he smiled.

6…

"Say it again. Slower," his voice was deep; rough around the edges.

5…

"I've been," kiss, "falling in love," kiss, "with you since," kiss, "the first day," kiss, "we met," kiss.

4… 3… 2… 1…

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" The club roared from inside.

Jax cupped both my cheeks as he came in for a slow and thorough kiss. The tip of his tongue peeked out from his lips, gently tasting mine.

His kiss was intoxicating and I had to hold on to his wrists to keep my bearings. We continued to stand there, holding one another as we slowly kissed.

It was a loud boom, flash and sizzle that broke us apart. Opie had set off some fireworks from the rooftop.

Jax's warm hands still cupped my cheeks. He gently brought my face back to his and rested his head against mine.

I could see the gold specks in his irises and I was lost in the rich blue color.

"I love you,"

I felt my cheeks heat up again,which made him chuckle from deep within his chest.

"Happy New Year,"

Jax grinned, pulling me back in for a deeper kiss, this one gaining wolf whistles and catcalls from the club that came outside.

#jax teller #charlie hunnam #sons of anarchy #may85 writes

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snifflyjoonie · 4 years

Text

I Think You’re My Soulmate

a/n: Alrighty well enough people seemed interested in this so I figured I’d give posting it a shot! I’m going to post it slowly in parts in between fics just because it is still something I am actively working on.

Here’s Part 1, which is basically me trying to set this universe up lmfao.

The premise is essentially you and your soulmate snz at the exact same moment every time, without fail... But what happens if there’s more than one?

Hopefully you guys like it!

***

For as long as Namjoon could remember, he had dreamed of finding his soulmate.

“Dad, how did you and Mom meet?”

Namjoon’s father glanced at his son from behind the pages of his book. No more than six years old, but always asking questions, always on the hunt for knowledge and understanding. He had been this way ever since he had learned to talk. He couldn’t help but admire his son’s beautiful curiosity.

His father leaned forward, reaching out to pat one of his son’s chubby cheeks, “The same way everyone does, Namjoon.” He smiled warmly, “We both shared a sneeze.”

He watched as his son seemed to ponder the answer, the little gears in his tiny brain turning, “What does that mean, Dad?”

His father ruffled his hair and chuckled, “You’ll learn more as you grow, but I will tell you this; when the universe gives you a sign, you listen. When you share a sneeze with someone, it is the world telling you that you have found your soulmate. It’s just the way it works, my son.”

Something changed in young Namjoon that day, and from that moment on, he had been determined to find his forever person.

Just like his father had told him, as he grew older, he began to learn more about his father’s quizzical answer. At the age of ten, they began to teach in school the strange way that human beings found their true soulmate. It seemed that whenever you sneezed, wherever in the world you might be, whatever it was you may have been doing, your soulmate would sneeze with you in perfect harmony. This is how it was, and this is how it had always been. It was taught to be a gift from the universe; a goofy sort of blessing to help you find your missing piece. Namjoon could remember the class giggling at the thought, the prospect of such a thing seemed silly, ridiculous even, and yet, seemed to click at the same time. He remembered the childish fake sneezes that had started to fill the room, the teacher laughing and telling them that wasn’t quite how it worked. He remembered being in awe, a childhood wonder that had long since left him, but that had been formed in that very classroom. Many of his male classmates had found this human oddity to be hilarious, whereas the girls tended to find it embarrassing. He however, had found it sort of romantic. The thought of having a special connection with someone, no matter how silly it was, a brief second of time that you both shared together, no matter the day, no matter either of your whereabouts, no matter if you knew each other or had yet to meet…it was always intriguing to him.

From then on, Namjoon had spent his middle and teenage years doing whatever he could to make himself sneeze in the hopes that someone else would join along with him. He would always share drinks with friends under the weather, avoid wearing a jacket in the wintertime, stand out in the pouring rain… To his mother, it seemed that every other week he would catch cold, or come home with a runny nose. She had always lectured him to watch his health, to not worry about finding his soulmate right away, that it would happen when it would happen…but when he started refusing to wear a face mask in the hopes something would itch his nose just enough, she simply gave up.

Towards the end of Namjoon’s teenage years, he spent his time watching his friends fall in love. It seemed that nearly once a month someone would catch cold and find out the girl from English they had eyes for happened to be their soulmate, or a seasonal allergy sufferer would discover the cute girl two years younger was meant for him during an accidental encounter with a bouquet, and so on and so forth. As he began to approach the end of high school, a deep worry started to settle in his chest. Why had nearly everyone else he knew found their soulmate? Why hadn’t he? He wanted it more than anyone, tried harder more than anybody, and yet…no one. He had heard the whispered rumors of people going their whole lives never finding who they were truly meant to spend their days with. The idea of never finding that one person, of settling down with somebody else while you and your soulmate continued to share an unspoken connection…the thought nearly drove him insane, and he began to fear that maybe his soulmate wasn’t in Korea at all.

It was then that Namjoon had decided he wanted to learn English. He begged his parents to find him a tutor, to sign him up for special classes, anything to help him master the confusing language as quickly as he could. Intrigued by his determination, his parents bought him the entirety of the popular American show Friends for him to watch and use to brush up on his English skills.

By the time graduation rolled around a few years later, Namjoon’s English skills had improved drastically, so much so that he could comfortably hold a conversation without getting too jumbled up in the words. It was at this point that he broke the news to his parents – he wanted to go to University in America. They were surprised, but supportive. When asked why he would possibly want to leave his friends and family behind to study abroad so far away he merely told them it was all to improve his English skills. His parents felt they could understand that, and agreed to help send their only son away to school.

Namjoon had spent a year preparing for his big move abroad before finally arriving in the United States. He was an undeclared major, not sure what he wanted to do with his life just yet but excited to learn either way. He was twenty now, a young man, and though he would never tell his parents, what he was most excited about was to find his soulmate.

He spent three years in the United States studying and searching; and as each year passed by Namjoon could feel himself becoming more discouraged not only in his hunt for love but in his studies as well. He had tried dating a few different girls, but the relationships would never last very long after one of them sneezed and the other didn’t. As each year passed by, he felt himself starting to lose his childlike awe of the world, his fascination with finding love…He became less talkative, less approachable, and by the time he entered his third year, he had all but given up on love and school alike. As his grades began to drop, his parents began to worry and requested him to return home after the end of his third year. Namjoon respectively obeyed. He had traveled across the world to find his soulmate, and would now be returning to Korea crushed, alone, and having lost hope in ever finding his one true person.

Returning to Korea had been embarrassing for him, but his parents were overjoyed to have him home. They did all they could to make him smile, to encourage him, to try to bring back the Namjoon they remembered and so desperately loved. They even tried to convince him to enroll at a University in Seoul, and after a year of uplifting words and badgering, Namjoon reluctantly agreed. He applied to the school late, getting accepted to start just after the winter break. His parents were overjoyed, Namjoon however simply felt neutral. He would be pursuing a degree in math in an attempt to become a math teacher, something his parents had been wanting for years. Namjoon was more than smart enough, knew he would succeed, but it had never been something he had particularly wanted to do. However, now he simply just didn’t care, and only wanted to make his parents proud. He owed it to them, after all they did to get him to America and back again.

The months leading up to him starting school were unremarkable, and before he knew it, he was starting University in Seoul the following day. Namjoon went to bed early that night, not looking forward to whatever tomorrow had to offer. He had just turned twenty-five a few months prior, now a grown man, he felt he had lost a part of himself. He wasn’t the same Namjoon anymore; wasn’t that chubby-cheeked little boy, ignorant to the real world. That part of him had died a long time ago. His outer shell had hardened as the years went by, his dreams faded to gray, somedays he didn’t even recognize himself. ‘Is this just growing up?’ he often thought. One day he hoped to find himself again, but today was not that day, and with a slight scratch beginning to form in the back of his throat, he slowly drifted off to sleep.

Namjoon jolted himself awake with a sneeze long before his alarm was set to ring. He groaned, blinking groggily as he tried to catch his bearings. His head felt like it had been plugged with cotton, his throat cracked and parched. He gave a dry cough, clearing his throat with a wince. Of course he would get sick, why wouldn’t he? Years of purposely doing anything he could to get himself sick had left him prone to colds and sinus infections, especially when he was stressed. No matter how often he fell under the weather he could still never get used to the cumbersome side effects that each illness brought, or the annoying thoughts he tended to think whenever he felt the urge to sneeze.

Namjoon shivered slightly, pulling his comforter up to his chin with a sniffle, the congestion in his nose blocking any air from getting through. He groaned again, and pitched forward slightly with another sneeze. He blinked hard and rubbed at his watery eyes, rolling over lazily to glance at his alarm clock. 5:30am. He couldn’t stop his heart from fluttering at the thought that maybe he wasn’t the only one woken up by his itchy nose. He shook his head slightly at the idea, he never liked thinking about these types of things anymore, but he was sick, it was early, and he was feeling lonely. He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. He stared at the time on his clock again and sighed. It was 2:30pm in Canada. Maybe his soulmate was sitting in a coffee shop, reading a mystery novel they had read a dozen times already but always came back to because it was their absolute favourite. It was 8:30pm in the UK. Maybe his soulmate had been brushing their teeth for bed, their shared sneeze catching them off guard and causing toothpaste to dribble down their chin. It was 7:30am in Australia. Perhaps his soulmate was getting ready for work, fresh out of the shower, their towel-dried body glistening under the bathroom light. It was 1:30am in India. Maybe his soulmate was just as annoyed as he was to have been woken up so early, but grateful they still had many hours to fall back asleep.

Whoever they were and wherever they might be, Namjoon wished that one day they would meet, someway, somehow, and that they could help him believe in love once more. And with one final flutter of his heart, the man drifted back off into a short and fitful sleep.

#alright I said i was going to use another tag for this passion project to keep it all together so let's go with #the soulmate au #i really hope you guys enjoy this one #i've poured a lot of time into it but i still don't think it's the best??????? so i get nervous????? lol #anyway it's namjoon-centered as he tries to figure himself out and navigate through this weird concept lol basically good luck my dude #mine #bts sickfic #bts au

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teacherintransition · 3 years

Text

“You go ahead, I’m just going to sit here awhile.”

Old man cliches are common, but many have more wisdom and significance than you might imagine.

Crabbed age and youth cannot live together; Youth is full of pleasure, age is full of care; Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather; Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare. Youth is full sport, age's breath is short; Youth is nimble, age is lame; Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold; Youth is wild, age is tame. Age, I do abhor thee; youth, I do adore thee.

William Shakespeare

Ah, the bard and his many truths; from the outside it seems clear what ol’ Bill is saying, but truth to tell this conflict between youth and age are almost always found within the same person. I can hear it now, “settle down pops” at the mere suggestion of a fire still burning in the heart or spirit of anyone over 50. Anyone who has known me the last ten years knows I have a motto, a creed, a riail den saol (rule of life) as the old Irish called it. What is this standard that I hold inviolate? ... NO OLD MAN TALK! This includes the following: so and so is in the hospital again; talk of medications; I just can’t do (activity of choosing) anymore or like I used to; the obituary page; arthritis and aches and pains in general; bragging about how little you are “in the know” about current technology; and the all time dis-favorite, “kids today!” To a slight degree I can tolerate “remember when” and intelligent discussions of music; but old man talk in general is VERBOTEN! Funeral attendance is limited to only the closest of family or the tragic loss of a student or former student, other than that, the next funeral I attend will be my own ... and then maybe.

“Geez, what’s the problem old man?”... is a common response I get for sticking to this creed. Why such a willful response? Let me make some things clear: I’m not afraid of dying, in fact since I’ve adopted a universalist, Buddhist view of things, I fear death less than I ever had. I’m not in denial of the physical limitations I experience nor am I fearful of breaking like glass. My heart for experience and adventure are greater than ever and I resent anyone or any set of thoughts placing me into any predetermined box that makes my choices for me. My worldview, rather than contracting into a close minded conservative set of unflinching principles, has become more progressive and assertive in views than I ever have held in my life. If I were 21, I’d be a radical member of a punk rock band. But, I’m not and won’t.... and I will not engage in old man talk.

An explanation is in order, in my mind and spirit and soul I am 25.... no no, I’m 32. I had it all together at 32. I was six feet 205 pounds, ran two miles four times a week and worked out regularly....I had surpassed youthful impulsiveness and was pretty sharp and, if I don’t say so myself... pretty damn attractive. Wait a minute, this is skirting closely to “remember when,” to the point, there are too many distractions that will rob us of a youthful, positive view of each day if we aren’t careful. I guess I’m sounding careful, like an old man? I know what I am: I’m 54, I retired at an early age, I live in a precarious, uncertain world, I’m excited about what I can do each day.... and to the very best of my ability, I live in the moment at hand. It took me 50 years to attain this wisdom and I ain’t giving it up for anything. The earlier Shakespeare quote is spot on and I’m going to hold onto the youthful passions over the aged restrictions with all my strength. I don’t fool myself or pretend to be something I’m not, a little Just for Men not withstanding, I’m a pretty “with it” middle aged cool ole’ guy.

As mentioned, this world we share is in a precarious state, it can easily rob you of hope and joy. It always had that ability even before 2020. To illustrate the point, I clearly remember people who were with me in my 20’s and 30’s who were already living the life of a obstinate 75 year old. That is a terrifying prospect that a person would reach a elderly mindset so young and live it over and over. In a world that advertises cliche constantly that is one that won’t sell with me. Cliches become cliches because there is some truth in them, even about those of us advancing in age. If you scratch just beneath the surface of these time worn sayings, you just might see a little spry thinking with aged wisdom. The things old guys say like the title, “you go ahead, I’m just going to sit here awhile,” probably garners the response, “the old dude can’t keep up.” Foolish mortal, I, with my youthful desire to live fully each moment, am simply take the time to admire the beautiful vista that you overlook to go shopping... again! “ I’m going to stop at just three whiskies,” to which one might reply, “can’t hang like you used to huh?” The wise response is, “no I wish to savor the taste and the feel of this fine whisky and not wear it later with the hangover that’s sure to follow sport drinking.” Ah , it’s sad that youth is wasted on the young.

I suppose true pearls of wisdom that really enrich life and don’t reduce it to a blur can only come after making the missteps of being young. I wish that many years ago I had realized that we only have now...that’s all we’ve ever had. Often we acted as if we would live forever, which is an amazing feeling, but it doesn’t compare with the intensity of pain when realizing you’ve wasted time. We spent so much time consumed with the worry of tomorrow instead of realizing there is only today. I’m not advocating being irresponsible at all just seeing the magic as it happens. Don’t let this uncertain world rob you of magic; don’t let the worries of what could happen rob you of magic; don’t let an ache or pain rob you of magic; despite your age let yourself live like a child in the sun. Old man talk, in my view, makes getting older feel like being weighed down with a millstone. I want my advancing years to echo again the words of the bard:

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.

-William Shakespeare-

http://labibliotecacoffee.com/

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theunredeemable · 5 years

Text

Stealing the Rich

Chapter one: Paradise Rent Asunder

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17954645/chapters/42404279

Winter's heels echoed down the halls of The Nevermore as she made her way towards the bridge of the colossal battleship. She kept her hands clasped behind her back, her face a perfectly neutral as she marshalled her emotions. Passing various crewmen seeing to mundane, yet important tasks, she paid them little heed. Each saluted her as they passed, their closed fist slamming into their chest above their heart, before resuming their duties.

Winter thought back to the time she had been in their shoes, saluting to superior officers that didn't even know she existed as they passed. She remembered how hard she had fought in ship to ship battles to prove her worth of climbing up the chain of command. Of how she checked and tripled check every task given to her, for one mistake was the difference between promotion or floating lifeless in the void of space.

Pausing in the middle of a walkway, she unclasped her hands to rest them against the rails as she looked down into the hanger bay. The Nevermore's crew was hard at work. Overseeing the final checks and testing, Chief Engineer Coal stalked the bay, pausing to make notes on a data-slate and chastise a new recruit's mistake. Winter could just make out the conversation he was having with Lead Equipment and Vehicle Engineer Katt from her vantage point. Coal let out a whistle as the last of the new fighters were loaded onto the ship. “Damn, those Schnee's certainly know how to make a sleek design.”

Winter turned her attention to the new fighter ships that were forced upon her, grimacing slightly. They were stream lined and coated in a layer of white with a snowy blue tint, as was ever common with the Schnee Dust Corporation's designs and uniforms. She turned her attention back down to her officers as she heard Katt's excitable voice. “Are you kidding Flynt! These are more than sleek, they're sublime. Oh, they barely weigh anything, are rumoured to be fast even in the void, and are packed with experimental dust weaponry. And do you know what's the best part?”

Officer Coal took a step backward holding up his hands in a calming gesture with a smile on his face. “No, but you're about to tell me.”

“WE GET TO TEST THEM OUT!” Katt jumped high into the air in excitement, laughing as she rushed off to see to their loading and system checks personally. Winter's grimace turned into a slight smile at see her officer's apparent joy at the prospect of new technology to test and learn. Shaking her head, she resumed her path. She passed many more faces and junior officers on her way, each giving her the Atlesian Salute. She responded to most with a curt nod.

Within the hour she finally stepped through the doorway leading into the command centre, the central nervous system of The Nevermore. As soon as she stepped through the door she heard the voice of her CCO cutting through the hum of machines and crew. “Captain on deck!” Every soul stood to attention, and with a nod from Winter, each resumed their duties in preparing the battleship for launch. Stepping onto the raised dais from which she could see the entire bridge, she slowly sank down onto the throne. Leaning back and closing her eyes, she heard the footsteps stop next to her as her CCO took their place by her side. “So Captain, what arse end of the galaxy are we being sent to this time?”

She responded with a tired sigh, slowly opening her eyes to look out across the bridge, and out the glass at the stars. “We're to patrol the border between the Mistrali Sector and the Vale Expanse.”

“The Expanse? Didn't the SDC call it a waste of expenses? Why are we being sent there?”

“Because, Miss Sustrai, there have been increased raids into our territory from the expanse. One of them stole some experimental technology, and it's our job to hunt them down and get it back.”

Emerald let out a small laugh. Winter looked at her with a raised an eyebrow, catching her trying to cover up the laugh by coughing into her fist. “We don't get given the easy assignments do we?”

“Not as long as it's my father calling the shots.”

“Do we even have a name of who we're to hunt?”

Winter shook her head, drumming her fingers on the arm of the throne. “All we have to go on is a boisterous laugh and long golden hair. They were unable to even get the name of the ship.”

“Well, we've had worse assignments. Should be more fun than the last one right?”

“Here I thought you enjoyed our time on Xurus Secondus.” Winter allowed a small smile on her face.

“If I never see those green skies again, or another Megapede it'll be too soon.” The Chief Command Officer shivered in disgust at the recollection of the monstrosity, and the feeling of being crushed in it's mandibles.

“Thankfully no Megapede’s this time. Just pirates.”

Emerald nodded, and looked at the data-slate in her hand. She fell silent as she swiped through a few reports, managing the other officers spread throughout the ship. “We're almost set. Coal just finished down in the Hanger, and security is running a final sweep.”

“Good. The sooner we're away the better.”

“Any news on your sister?”

Winter gently shook her head. “Father sent her out to oversee a financial mission. And we both know what that means. Too many questions, or too much rebellion from her.”

“Maybe we could...pick her up from the mission?”

“If we happen to run across The Silent Breeze I'll consider it. For now, let us be away. Give the order Miss Sustrai.”

“By your command, Captain.” She typed a quick message into the data-slate, sending it off before calling out to the bride. In accordance to their new orders it erupted into controlled chaos. The Nevermore detached from the orbital docking, side thrusters burning hot as they pushed the ship away from the station. When they fell silent the main engine flared up. As the battleship slowly pulled away from Outpost Mandolin, crowds gathered at the view ports to watch it sail into the void. A bright flare of blue light signalled the jump engines kicking in, and the regal ship vanished without a trace.

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

Weiss was little better than a prisoner aboard The Silent Breeze. Kept in isolation and confined to her quarters throughout the voyage, she huffed in frustration as she threw her personal data-slate onto the bed. The room would be considered nice under normal circumstances, connected to a personal bathroom and even a small kitchen, she had everything she needed except freedom. Ostensibly, she was there to be the lead negotiator between the Schnee Dust Corporation and the rising Argus Augmentics. In reality, she was being sent as far away from home as her father could. She had started asking to many questions about the ethics behind his company, and how much influence he had in the Atlas Empire. What had followed was a shouting match and similar confinement to her room in the mansion.

The next day she was shoved onto the cruiser and sent off into the void. Now, on her third week into the voyage, she was losing any semblance of patience. Pacing around the confines of the room, she began to plot her escape. Every few hours a guard checked on her, making sure she had everything she needed. The guard had been kind so far. If she played the cards right she might be able to convince him to let her out. The only other possibility was to knock him out. She looked around her quarters and felt her heart sink. Nothing was large or strong enough to knock someone out, the largest item she could use was a wooden spoon.

Sitting down on her bed, she picked back up the data-slate and passed the time waiting for the guard's visit by going through the mission briefing. Argus Augmentics had started off just designing prosthetics, but had recently been developing further enhancements that could be installed into the body. So far they had been designed to aid civilian life, such as adding cybernetics into the brain to aide with learning new languages or skills, upgraded prosthetics that could swap between different tools, and new eyes for the blind. Now they had begun research in weaponizing these augmentations and experimenting with Dust, which had drawn the eye of the SDC. A prototype had already been developed in union between the two, but had been stolen by pirates.

Weiss frowned at this, trying to find out more about the prototype, but those files were locked to her. With another huff of annoyance she threw the slate onto the bed next to her again, just as a knock sounded on the door. “Miss Schnee, permission to enter?” The guard had arrived just on time.

“Of course, please enter Mr. Arc.”

The door slid open, revealing the blonde guard on the other side. He held a kind smile as he brought in a tray of tea, placing it down on the coffee table. “Good Day Miss Weiss. We're still a few days out from our destination.”

“You've been saying that for the last week, Mr. Arc. I no longer believe it.”

“Really Miss, it won't be much longer until we reach Argus.”

“And once we're there, how much longer must I wait in here before I'm allowed out?” She glared angrily, before letting out a soft sigh and tried adopting a softer smile. “Please, Mr. Arc. All I want is to see something other than the inside of this room.”

“You know I can't do that. It's against the rules...”

“What trouble am I going to get up to? I just want to stretch my legs.”

“Miss...”

“What if you were to accompany me? I couldn't get into any trouble with such a strong guard looking after me.” The guard felt his cheeks redden slightly, though her stood straighter at the complimentary comments.

“Well...I suppose a little walk down the view-port corridor couldn't hurt...if you were under guard.”

“Thank you Mr. Arc. I promise to behave myself.” Weiss stood up and moved to the door, waiting for the guard to follow. He took a minute to look at the tea, sadden that the effort had gone to waste, then shrugged and escorted Weiss out of the room. The two walked in silence. Weiss was enjoying her newfound, temporary, freedom from the room. A plan began to formulate in her mind on how to change it from temporary to permanent. “Thank you, for letting me stretch my legs, Mr. Arc.”

“Please, my name is Jaune.”

“Well, Jaune, I am sorry about this.” Before he could question what she meant, she grabbed hold of his arm and shoved him into a open maintenance closet. “I have no intention of making it to Argus. I'll not be bound by my Father any longer.” Jaune stumbled back to his feet and tried to run back out, but the door slid shut blocking him, sealing him inside.

Fumbling for his communicator, he opened up a channel to the entirety of the ship. “This is Jaune Arc, Weiss Schnee is attempting to escape! Last seen heading towards the View ports!” Weiss swore under her breath and took off running, veering left down a side corridor. She hoped desperately that the ships security would head the wrong direction, and she could make it to the escape pods before she was found. An alarm started blaring and she could hear the sound of boots running down hallways. She slid to a stop, and ducked into a open room as three guards ran past, oblivious to her location. Waiting a few moments, she held her breath, before once more running down the hallway towards her freedom.

Just as hope flared in her upon seeing the escape pods, a hand grabbed the back of her coat. The fabric ripped, and she was tripped onto the floor. Looking up, she was greeted by a malicious grin and grey eyes. “Well well, looks like I found the escaped song bird.” She scrambled to her knees and tried to crawl away, but two more guards blocked the path to the pods. “Inform the captain that I'll be bringing Miss Schnee to the bridge.”

“Yes Sir!” One of the guards saluted and ran off, while Weiss was roughly picked up off the floor and dragged away from the pods. She struggled to the best of her ability, but her captors just tightened their grips on her arms. Dragged throughout the ship she passed uncaring faces, focused on their own jobs and caring not for her plight. It took half an hour, but eventually she was thrown before the dais of The Silent Breeze's Captain.

“What do we have here, Mr. Black?” The captain was a large, heavyset man, the uniform barely still able to fit him as he lounged in his throne. Fat fingers were choked with rings, which drummed on the arm of his seat as his cruel eyes looked down at Weiss. She felt small in that moment, and when the captain licked his lips she felt more like a piece of meat before the monstrosity rather than a fellow human.

“The little Princess here got it in her head to try to escape. Found her trying to climb into a escape pod.”

“Is that so?” The throne creaked and groaned as the captain lent forward, appraising Weiss. “That's no good. How do we get paid if we don't deliver her to Argus hmm?”

Weiss frowned, and felt her blood go cold. “D-deliver?”

“Oh, didn't Daddy tell you? Did you think you were here to negotiate a deal?” The captain's smile grew sadistic as he carried on. “Oh no little princess. You are the deal. I heard they were going to use you to test out their new cybernetics. Turn you into the perfect little soldier. Or, perhaps a toy? I wonder how much people would pay for you hmm?”

Weiss looked at the captain with undisguised disgust, and attempted to move away. She was stopped by the foot of Mercury Black, the commander of security. “Now now, Captain Gole. We're meant to deliver her in the state she's in. I have strict orders to stop anyone from doing anything...untoward.”

The captain opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a bright flash filtering through the viewport from the void. “What in the Maiden's name was that!” Everyone has shielded their eyes, and when they finally looked they found their ship face to face with a battle cruiser. It hung their in space silently, before two more bright flashes erupted from its front. The Silent Breeze shuddered as two lasers pierced it, carving out huge segments. The sirens resumed their warning cry and the bridge erupted into chaos. “Shit! Get us out of here!”

The Silent Breeze's side thrusters began to burn hot, trying to turn the cruiser towards freedom. It was a futile endeavour as the two lances of light shot forth again, carving out the main engines and leaving it dead in the void. Pandemonium reigned aboard, during which Weiss was almost forgotten. She contemplated taking the chance to flee to the escape pods, but guards still stood at the doors into the bridge. Mercury had disappeared during the turmoil, and Captain Gole was yelling at his crew. Fear was evident on his face, hands turning white from the force used to grip his chair. Fires had spread across the lower decks of the ship, and debris was sucked out into the vacuum through the holes caused by the battle cruiser's attack. Once more the two lances shot forth, and The Silent Breeze was robbed of even it's thrusters. Weiss looked out the the glass to see several smaller ships launch from the metal behemoth. Each one was headed towards different parts of the ship. Most angled towards where the cargo was stored, but one was headed directly towards the bridge. The Captain noticed it as well, and began to panic. “Close the Blast Shields! Close them now!”

Metal shutters started to slowly crawl over the glass, but the order was given too late. The vessel crashed right through the glass, sealing the hole with it's own size. Several crewman were crushed beneath in, and Weiss could see that the vessel was a escape pod modified for boarding actions rather than escaping. The hatch slowly opened up, filling the bridge with steam and smoke as three figures emerged. The central figure wore a brown duster with the right arm tied up. Long golden locks fell down her back, and her remaining hand rested on the grip of a pistol still in it's holster. To her right and left were two Faunus's, One with raven black hair, the other with light brown. They each held a rifle stolen from the Atlas Military which were pointed at the remaining guards on the bridge. “Good Day Ladies and Gentlemen! I hope we find you in good health and in a wealthy enough disposition to help those down on their luck!” The blonde radiated a confident energy that cowed most of the crew, and even the guards sank to their knees with their hands on the back of their heads.

The Captain, however, was to furious to realise the danger he was in. “We'll do no bartering with filthy pirates like you!” He slowly stood to his feet and pulled out a pistol, aiming right at the pirate's leader. “How dare you attack my ship! Do you know who I am!”

“Captain Gole Retriever. Lap dog for Jacques Schnee, doing supply runs and overseeing the man's more...illicit activities. Such as collecting slaves, black mail, extortion, and much much more.” The cat faunus smirked as she spoke, moving the rifle to aim at the Captain. “Yes, we know who you are. But do you know who we are?”

Gole turned white as his crimes were laid before him in such a factly manner, and he reappraised the situation. He could feel the eyes of his newer crew looking at him in disgust. “What does it matter who you are!”

“Captain...that's the New Dawn out there...They're the Sun Dragoons.” One of his guards chipped in from the side. He was shot a disgusted look from Gole, before what he said was processed.

“Oh, I see at least some of you know us. Let me introduce myself. I am Yang, leader of the Sun Dragoons. And one way or another we will be leaving with your goods and money. Question is, will you make it easy for us?”

Weiss was yanked to her feet with a yelp, and held in front of Gole towards Yang. “L-look, I was just following orders, alright? I don't want no trouble, and I'm not willing to die for Jacques. Just, take her. We were meant to deliver her for experimentation. Take her and any cargo we have, just leave my money.”

The two Faunus looked at each other in the back, eyebrows raised. Their leader however looked shell shocked, before straining to smile. “Interesting proposition you've made there. Why don't you let me have a look at that pretty creature?”

Weiss was pushed forward towards Yang unceremoniously, nearly tripping. She was caught by Yang, and made to stand straight. “Please...help me.” Yang raised an eyebrow at Weiss's plea, before winking at her and turning back to Gole.

“Alright, we'll take the lass. But there's one addendum to your offer.”

“What's tha-” He never got to finish his question as Yang pulled her gun from it's holster and blasted a hole in the man's chest. Weiss screamed in shock, covering her ears at the noise. Yang placed the weapon away, and gently took Weiss's hand, leading her to the boarding pod. As they climbed back up, the rabbit Faunus gently lead her into the vessel and sat her down. Yang stood by the entrance and called out.

“Anyone who had no idea of Gole's crimes, and wants a second chance at life, this is your one and only chance. Join us, come with me and learn what it means to be free. Or stay here, trapped and stranded in the void.” The defeated crew looked at each other, a few stood and tentatively walked up the ramp into the vessel. The rest stood their ground. The blonde shook her head sadly. “You may want to leave the bridge.” With a swirl of her coat she retreated further into her vessel as the door closed behind her. She passed by those who had decided to join her, and paused when she reached Weiss. “You're safe now Miss.”

“T-thank you.” Weiss swallowed nervously. “But...where are you taking me?”

Yang smiled as the boarding pod pulled away from The Silent Breeze, causing debris and bodies to be pulled out into space. “We're taking you to Beacon, where all men and women are free.”

#winter schnee #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #Blake Belladonna #velvet scarlatina #emerald sustrai #mercury black #Jaune Arc #flynt coal #neon katt #elderburn #frappuccino

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rumowrites · 5 years

Text

Defectum, Ch. 5

The next day, he went to the academy to train. Not because he had to, but a partner to rehearse with was always nice. It also gave him the opportunity to drop off the finished shift schedules and talk to some of the trainers about the progress of their newest batch of recruits.

Before he left the house, he thought about making copies for himself but decided against it. He knew them by heart anyway. Although he didn't seem like it, Runaan found it important to know as much as possible about his soldiers. They weren’t only replaceable chess pieces to him and he’d always made a point to subtly arrange missions and shifts so that none of them would miss their own or a loved ones Birthday. The Assassin also made sure that each got enough time to heal should they get wounded. Most of the younger recruits were oblivious to it but some of the soldiers he had started with knew and appreciated the gesture however so small.

Runaan in turn thought highly of them for not treating him like some kind of opportunist who only wanted to climb the ranks faster. When he had started general training, he’d been several years younger than any of them and at a huge disadvantage speed and strength wise. Most of them still remembered him then and had seen for themselves how hard he trained to get to the level of skill he was currently operating on. Back then, he’d spent more time face down in the dirt than actually fighting. Always staying behind after training was officially over he’d slowly gotten better until he won his first fight. After that, his determination grew and he worked out a more efficient training plan. Like all new recruits he used to live in a bunk room with three other soldiers to be. The majority of them complained about the scarce housing but in his opinion, it was no worse than the orphanage.

Every spare minute, he trained and even when he had regular lections aside from fighting, Runaan tried to learn as much as he could. By the time he finished training, he’d moved up years twice, effectively making him the youngest to ever lead a mission at only sixteen. From there on it had skyrocketed and within four years he found himself second in command of the executive branch of Xadia’s armed forces.

Until that, Runaan had chosen to live at the academy since high-ranking members each got a full equipped room at their disposal. With almost no living expenses, his pay checks quickly accumulated to an amount that allowed him to task the building guild with a house made to his requirements.

And even now, he needed only a fraction of the coins they paid him. He’d expressed such to his superior but the other elf only laughed at him. She instead suggested he’d buy some decent clothes instead of running around in his uniform all day. Only to annoy her, he’d purchased a dozen new sets of the exact same uniform, including winter and summer alterations.

He owned other things, yes, but an Assassin is all he was and probably all he’d ever be. It simply felt wrong to go somewhere without at least his casual uniform. The familiarity calmed him and gave the elf a feeling of security even when they ventured into enemy territory.

Upon arriving, he already saw some from his usual strike team train in the yard. Three elves, a pair of mid-thirty twins and a female five years his senior twirled around each other while the pair tried to catch her off guard.

When she saw him, Kira jumped back to extract herself from the twin’s blades. “Hey hotshot! We missed you yesterday. Care to join us?” Now, they all stopped, walking towards him to meet their leader in the middle of the otherwise empty pit. Runaan rolled his eyes while nodding but waved the stack of paper in his hand. Kira always tried to annoy him with stupid nicknames. “Just give me a couple of minutes to drop these off at the administration.” One of the twins, Jino, shoved the female elf’s shoulder “Don’t listen to her we just did some target practice yesterday, not much to miss out on but it was a hell of a celebration the day before. Although you ditched us pretty early.” At that, his brother Janus joined in “Yeah, where were you? We lost you after the first hour.”

Runaan shrugged and showed his stack of parchment again “Oh, you know, just wandering around, enjoying the quiet and writing those shift schedules of course.” Kira raised a doubtful eyebrow at his explanation, but the twins seemed satisfied. Before she could change her mind and voice her opinion, he took a few steps towards the main building. “See you in a few.” They all nodded and resumed their exercise, now a little more eager than before.

His chat with the elf who managed their office was quick and uneventful. Usually, he just dropped the finished tables off and collected the names and info for the following months to take home. Today, a few letters had arrived for him so he took them, too before quickly making his way to his room with agitation in his bones at the prospect of a decent training session.

He changed out of the formal uniform, donning the training version sans coat and armour instead. Runaan contemplated his weapon options for a moment before strapping a dagger to each of his thighs and a pair of curved swords on his belt. On the way out, he caved and also took his bow, slinging the quiver over his shoulder. There would be time for target practice later.

Kira and the twins were sitting on the stone wall of the pit when he returned, waiting for Runaan to show up. They had been with him on the last mission and were technically, like himself, still on leave for a week. Most soldiers still chose to train a few hours a day, being used to the activity.

They stretched together before starting some easy rehearsals. None of them were in a rush so they slowly upped their speed and difficulty until they fought three against one. Runaan had to admit that it was hard for him to keep up against three highly skilled fighters, but he knew their weaknesses and managed to hold them off for a considerably long time.

At the end of the day they were all drenched in sweat but satisfied with their good workout.

Janus and Runaan did a few rounds of target practice while the other two sat on the side and took bets before he got persuaded into getting a few drinks with them. They agreed to meet up again once everyone was cleaned up. All of them, being used to change quickly, were ready to go mere minutes later.

Their preferred Inn was only a couple minutes away from the academy and primarily favoured by soldiers. The Innkeeper led them to their usual table that was mostly secluded in the back of the room. Runaan used the time they were waiting on their drinks to tell them they would be staying at the academy for some time since no new order from the council got issued. The three cheered a little and promptly decided to drink on the little break allowed to them. Although all of them loved the thrill and adventure, they weren’t reckless and well aware of the risk each new assignment bore.

“So the world gets to see us for a few more weeks at least!” Kira grinned and clinked her red wine against Runaan’s Whiskey before doing the same to the twin’s beers. “To the Jackass who keeps leading us headfirst into each new disaster!” Jino raised his glass to their combined laughter “and to the Idiots who keep running after me!” the Assassin added with a smirk, downing the liquid in his glass.

As the evening progressed further, the group was finally able to forget their occupation for a few hours while they shared stories and remembered each other of particularly embarrassing events that had happened to one of them in the past. By the time the Innkeeper came around their table to tell them they would be closing soon, the twins were merely giggling hysterically, and Kira needed four attempts to place her wine glass on the coaster. Runaan’s own tab showed more checks than it probably should. Still, he only felt the familiar tingle in his limbs and slight haziness in his vision.

Time to head back, before he got the chance to make a fool of himself. He had a reputation to uphold after all. Nevertheless, he bought a bottle of the whisky he’d been drinking for the most part of the night. They parted outside, Kira half-carrying her two companions back to their rooms at the academy while he took the other direction towards his house. Once the others were out of view, he uncorked the bottle and strayed from the path, taking the route through the woods. Now that his bubbly subordinates were gone, his thoughts wandered back to his last mission and all the ones before that where he had doubts considering their target. A deep swing and slight bun of the liquid later, he felt the painful images melt into each other and forced them back into the depths of his troubled mind.

Some new charcters! Yes, they will reappear later on so this chapter wasn't for nothing!

#Defectum #runaan #the dragon prince #runaan tdp #runaan x tinker #moonshadow elves #rayla #fanfiction #runaan fanfiction #tinker #rumo writes #runaan x necklace elf #the dragon prince fanfiction #tdp fanfic #tdp fic

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rwbyremnants · 5 years

Link

WARNING: A little Weiss/Neon. Rape threat (not carried out), some mild violence, (implied) minor character death.

Whoooooo... so THIS was a big one. Hope you guys enjoy the reunion!

=Chapter 35

"Focus, focus…"

No matter how often Weiss muttered the word to herself as she paced around her dressing room, glancing at her reflection to make sure she still looked pristine, it didn’t quite take. She could hear the thumping bass even this far away from the opening act – Sky Lark, some newly-famous guy whom she didn't particularly care about - and it was making it marginally more difficult to concentrate, to run through her usual pre-show prep in her head.

It mattered so much more tonight, since Neon and Neptune were going to follow her; she had to give the audience something to remember. Convert them all to being her fans, and not just remembering her as "that girl we put up with because she was there". She wasn’t delusional; she knew not all of them would wind up digging her. And that was okay. But if she didn’t go out and give 110%, she would stand no chance of winning them over at all.

But that pre-show meditation was interrupted by a knock at her dressing room door, only to have whoever was there immediately burst in, shutting the door behind them. Thankfully, it wasn't anyone to worry about if they were going to see her undressed.

It was Neon, dressed in the usual raver outfit that Weiss was so used to seeing before she got to know her, along with her signature pony tails and long “tail” hanging from her belt. Today's show she had added a special surprise: roller blades on her feet to incorporate into her dance moves. But she was more concerned about the ever-quiet Weiss who had been MIA for the past week, with no news other than “I'm at Berkeley for a while”. While Neon didn't mind that, she was worried her mood hadn't picked up yet.

Maybe she needed a pep talk. "So, you excited?!"

"H-hey," Weiss sighed with a weary smile. Just looking at Neon looking her best made her pace forward and wrap her arms around her, kissing her softly and enjoying the now-familiar sensation. "Yeah, if you mean 'terrified'. Oh, why did I agree to do this?! There's so many people out there!"

Even though she cuddled her back, she let a smirk pull at her lips. "Yeah, duh. But think about what that means: you're moving up in the world. Means you're amazing."

"No, you." One more kiss, and then she pulled back and ducked her head. "By the way… I'm really sorry about running off the way I did. I should have called you first."

Seemed they were going to talk about this after all. Letting her out of her grasp, she instead held her hands, idly swaying them side to side. "What'cha sorry for? Doesn't matter to me. I just assumed it was family shit or whatever."

"Well…" Weiss came very close to chickening out. After all, Neon didn't care, wasn't pushing. She wouldn't be a bad person for letting the topic drop, especially given how busy they were that day.

But she owed her more than that. "Close enough to family. You know my friend, Ruby?"

"Vaguely?" She tilted her head. The name was very familiar, but it took her a while to realise why. But then she suddenly lit up. "Oh yeah! The girl with the glasses, likes hoodies a lot, right?"

"Right, right," she laughed. "Well… I don't think I ever made it clear, but she's my ex's sister. You know… the, um…" Her voice dropped into a whisper. "The video."

"Which one? 'Changes come' or the sexy…" But as soon as that slipped out her mouth, she began to blush, and also look to one side. "Right, they're both the same girl. Sorry, that was dumb. But yeah, what about it?"

A smirk pulled at Weiss's mouth. "You want a copy of that, don't you?"

"Look, just because I thought your ex was hot doesn't mean I wanna get off while watching her porn. That's kinda… creepy territory for me." Even though she was completely red while saying that entire sentence, she shook her head to try and get herself out of the daze, immediately returning to the topic. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question; what about it? I thought she fucked off and left you."

Then Weiss's smile fell. "Well… she really did almost fuck off… forever."

“What?”

As casually as she could, and trying not to be too specific or make the story longer than needed, Weiss explained what had happened to Yang, from her sister's interference up through the phone call they had accidentally shared in Ruby's dorm room. All the while, it left Neon entirely speechless. At the beginning, she didn't seem to quite grasp what she meant, but as it went on, she grew even more worried and questioning by the minute. For more reasons other than Weiss's story. Piecing things together, Neon had managed to grasp the important factors; Yang was forced away, there was no break up.

Not only that, but the feelings Weiss still had for Yang were probably mirrored in Yang herself. Where Neon had just thought she was dealing with a dumped Weiss on the rebound, it was fast becoming a danger of losing her completely; that Neon really was just a rebound girl to fill the gaping hole in Weiss’s heart for a while. But that was selfish to think at this time, and she quickly shook off such thoughts. Weiss clearly needed her, and she was going to put her own feelings last.

But still, as she leant against Weiss's dressing table, she stared out in awe. "I can't believe your own sister would do that to you… It's just… just-"

"Just disgusting." Shaking her head bitterly, she growled, "And she'd better not come after you next, or she is going to get a real earful. Honestly, who does she think she is?!"

"Oh she'll catch hell from me, too, don't you worry! I get enough shit from Adam, don't think I'll let myself be bullied by her that way." Despite being angry toward Winter, she started to realise what she just said, and backtracked. "I-I mean… I'm not implying Yang’s a coward for leaving, that's not what I meant! Just, like… outing someone as trans is even more damaging than outing someone as gay, I guess, and I wouldn’t let her get away with it. I dunno."

"You're fine," Weiss reassured her with a weak laugh. "But I don't really think I'll be getting much grief from her anymore. I disowned her. She can be judgemental to someone else now."

"Don't blame you. But shit… I'm glad Yang's okay…" She continued to stare out blankly, tapping her fingertips against the wall to try and distract herself.

That brought a louder sigh from Weiss. "I just… can't believe it. I've never had anybody in my life who almost… who even thought about…" Frowning at the girl by her vanity, she said, "I feel like I failed her, Neon. I should have known, I should have figured it out, it's… how stupid am I?"

"Don't even go there, babe," she told her firmly. "How could you know? Winter manipulated you into thinking she had just… just ran away. That's an abuse of trust in your sister, not you messing up."

"You know what's really messed up? She seemed to think that just because she told me, a couple of months later, that somehow that made everything okay! Just because she had a guilty conscience when she found out she almost-" Again, Weiss cut off. Seemed she couldn't directly mention it so easily, even after a few days.

But Neon knew anyway. Pacing away from the wall to stand back by Weiss's side instead, she held the back of her chair. "You're way better off. And Yang's okay… obviously it could have been way worse, so it's a bittersweet ending, right? Sucks it came to this, but at least she’s alive."

Weiss's hand reached over her shoulder to one of Neon's on the back of her chair, holding it tenderly. "You're pretty awesome if you can be glad my ex is okay, with our history and all." Then she looked up at her with an oddly contemplative expression. "I… did think about calling you, asking if you'd go with me… but since the whole thing was about Yang, it seemed weird. Did I make the right decision?"

For a moment, she hesitated. That was the question that was haunting her. If Weiss was being secretive about Yang already, what was it going to be like further on in their relationship? What if she and Yang were to arrange to meet up, start ffresh? She couldn't compete with all that history. Maybe she wanted to fight for her hand, but their relationship was still in its infancy; she barely had a toehold to start from. Her prospects were grim.

Still, not telling Weiss of her worries just yet, she sighed. "I think it would'a made that phone call even weirder if she knew you had a girlfriend, babe."

"Well, the phone call wasn't something planned, but… you're probably right." She turned around in the chair, knees bracing herself up as she touched Neon's neck gently. "Thanks for understanding. I'm so lucky."

Starting to smile lightly, she pressed a small kiss up against Weiss's cheek. Even if Weiss's words meant well, it didn't particularly fill her with much confidence about her worries. The worries that no matter what, she would come in second place to Yang. Even if she didn't show it on the outside.

"Just feel glad it worked out okay, and sorry something so fucked up happened."

But their conversation was interrupted by a knock at Weiss's door, a voice calling up. "Five minutes, Weiss!"

"OKAY!" she yelled back. "I'll be out in a minute!"

Then she turned to Neon and pressed their lips heatedly together, quickly teasing Neon's with the tip of her tongue. There was a slight squeal of joy in the middle of that kiss as she pulled away, finally leaving with a more self-assured grin. Even if she was worried, that didn't stop her flirting – and it quelled some of her fears. At least temporarily.

"Save some for after the show, sweet cheeks. How about a quickie during the intermission?"

"What?! Don't be disgusting!" But Weiss was grinning and blushing. "I prefer to take my time with you. However… we'll see." As she got out of the chair, she gave Neon a quick swat on the backside as she asked, "Is my makeup still okay?"

"Nope. Ruined, start over," she teased. But the giddy grin was enough to give away that she meant the opposite. Finally heading toward the door, she winked back at her. "And I'll get you back for that little swat on stage in the overlap."

"Will you? How are you planning to-" But she cut herself off. The whole insane situation had depleted her of her ability to worry about her future, to give much credence to other people's opinions of her. She still wanted to be respected, but respected for being herself rather than just a statuette of "the perfect good girl."

"You know what? Surprise me." Then she joined Neon at the door and grabbed her ass again - really grabbed it and held on, fingers digging into the flesh. "Go ahead; open it."

Another delighted squeal followed, as her rear was deliberately groped and squeezed, making her turn around and smirk at the 'purer' if the two of them. Barely. "You better be glad you gotta go on in five minutes, otherwise I'd be making sure you can't walk, Schnee."

"Open the door, Katt. Or are you scared they'll notice I have a handful of your booty?"

Glaring right back at her, she started to turn the doorknob, raising one eyebrow as she slowly began to bring it backward to open it, testing both her own and Weiss's bravery at the same time. And the wider open it was getting, the more she smirked. Not that she expected their notions to be viewed.

"Good kitty," Weiss goaded very slightly, still flexing her hand, still teasing. "Nice kitty."

"You… are so getting… a million and one hickeys when today's ove-"

The clearing of someone's throat was enough to stop that dialogue in its tracks. Neon suddenly propelled herself forward, away from the offending hand – and for good reason. Stood before them was the same man that Weiss had encountered the first time she went to Neon's. In fact, the scratch across his face was still there.

"Am I interrupting?"

"Oh…" Recovering from her shock, Weiss's voice dropped into a lower register. "Oh. It's you."

"Aren't you supposed to be on stage?" Adam snapped toward Weiss, barely giving her any attention and immediately looking back to his own star instead, not even waiting for an answer before he asked, "A word? I have a solution that'll benefit us both, in regards to your contract."

"You don't have to talk to him alone," Weiss told Neon without mincing words. "Come backstage with me; you can watch my show until time for you to go on."

"Oh, I think I will. I'm ready to go on, anyway; no need to go back to my dressing room." Neon began to smirk instead, folding her arms. "And I think Adam and I should keep our conversations to public spaces from now on."

"You're making a huge mistake." He lowered his voice, hands clearly balling into fists as he glared at the two of them. "Trust me, a recording contract will be the last thing you need to worry about if you cross me. Just do what I tell you, and we’ll both be rich and happy, and I can quit having to put up with your annoying ass soon enough."

That was far enough; Weiss no longer felt any need to be kind to him. She stepped closer and glared up into his smug face. "Listen to me. You had better let go of the idea that you have any right to control what either of us do, you… thug! Neon might talk to you after the show, and she might not. Don't worry about it for now. But stop threatening her, or I will make your life hell. Do you understand me?"

He only glared straight back at her, not saying another word, moving another muscle. The two stared one another off for what felt like forever, until eventually Neon tugged at Weiss's arm, gesturing down the hallway. "Come on, Weiss. We'd better get going."

"You're right." But as she followed Neon, she glanced over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at the jerk. She'd had enough of men thinking they could dictate people's lives, were entitled to women's bodies. It was disgusting to her.

"God, that asshole," she went on in a quieter tone once they were out of earshot. "Do you want to come with me afterward and avoid him completely? I'd be happy to wait for you."

"Please."

But as they turned the corner to head to the stage, eavesdropping was the last of their worries. Adam remained still for a moment longer as he glanced around the hallway. No one present, no cameras. Perfect. No one noticed as he walked down the hallway, nor when he entered the girl he was intimidating's dressing room…

This was it. The moment of truth.

Four days of mental preparation and practice had lead them to “the master plan,” as Winter had put it. Ruby and Penny were already there, having watched the few stars at the beginning of the concert before they withdrew at the back end of Sky Lark's act, giving them enough time to meet Yang outside the venue and exchange Penny for her instead. A hug good luck from Blake, Sun, and even Winter later, and she was heading into the crowd with her little sister.

She was dressed in the best way Weiss could notice her; the same outfit she'd bought for her on the first date of the tour. The brown leather jacket, yellow tank top, and black short shorts. The only thing missing was the completing feature, the snood which was in Weiss's possession. And if that wasn't enough, she made sure to carry her guitar on her back, on the off chance she could get backstage and play the same song to her. It was a vague chance, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Not that security was crazy about the guitar, but once they had checked it for anything dangerous they let her through – on warning that she not play it at random. The disturbance would get her thrown out. Ruby whispered that they probably were assuming she wanted to get it signed by one of the acts, which did make more sense than the truth.

Yang allowed Ruby to drag her on through the crowds, back toward their designated seats. And already she could hear the middle of one of Weiss's later hits. That was when she was starting to breathe heavier. Fear was creeping in.

"Don't act so nervous, sis," Ruby urged her, squeezing her hand in support as they got closer to the stage. They truly were incredible seats; Weiss had not skimped in the slightest. "Even if this doesn't work today, we'll have a couple more days to try something!"

"I know, I know! I'm just… What if she doesn't wanna see me? What if it hurts her too much? Oh geeze what a dumb idea this whole thing was!" she squeaked, having to raise her voice the closer they got toward the stage. But by now, it was all coming into view…

The Weiss herself was just leading into a Madonna cover, strutting confidently from one side of the stage to the other and singing her heart out into the mic leading out from her headset. Today's outfit was a knee-length sparkling silver dress with a slit halfway up the thigh and a train of lace leading down from the sash around her waist and fluttering behind her, feather-light. Matching platform sandals and three little silver stars on each cheek completed the look, along with her trademark side-ponytail.

"Oooohhh god she's right there…" In a turn of events, it was Yang who was the one feeling faint now that she realised who she was about to see, and possibly about to talk to. She swore her heart would jump out of her ribcage with how fast it was beating, how much faster and deeper her breathing was becoming. Even as Ruby continued to pull, she felt herself slowing down, quickly reaching her spare hand into her hair and pulling. "I-I can't do this. I'm still… I-I-"

"You're my big, strong, awesome sister, and you're not gonna let the girl you love get away just because… because of some flashy lights!" Ruby could feel her still resisting, so she stomped around behind her and began shoving into the small of her back, hoping to get her the rest of the way.

Biting her lip again, she continued to gaze out as Weiss's song was coming to a close. Between each number, she was taking a moment to talk to the audience, even if it was something as little as telling them it was a great crowd, or that she was happy to bet there. But hearing her voice again spoke volumes to her. The Weiss. Her Weiss… she missed her, missed her voice so much. All she wanted was to hear it at a reasonable volume again, speaking to her as they were cuddled on a sofa, about to fall asleep at night. In the end, that desire was enough to power through her fear.

"Okay." She finally nodded. "Okay!" And as she heard Weiss introducing the next act for their double performance together, a dubsteppy cover of Katy Perry's 'I Kissed a Girl', Yang finally began to walk forward willingly, pulling Ruby along so she could guide them to their seats.

"This was never the way I planned," Weiss began singing, bending slightly at the waist to let her hand trail through the wake of fans and besotted preteens, touching them all very briefly and thereby exciting them to no end. Of course, not all of them were that enthused; some were only there for Neon, or else Neptune at the end of the concert. But they still seemed at least vaguely pleased to be so close to a beautiful, talented woman such as she.

Even if Yang and Ruby weren't to be right at the very front, among them to be touched, it didn't matter. The seats they had gave them a good vantage point. From there, they could easily be spotted from Weiss's eye level, for when she stopped to speak to the crowd again. Neither of them took their seats, only watched as Weiss continued to belt out her notes, and occasionally interact with Neon, who skated across the stage with ease.

Each of them shared half the verse each, teaming up to sing the chorus together. In fact, said chorus also had various planned dance moves together, both mirroring one another. Apart from something that certainly didn't seem like it was a part of the dance at all: in the gap between the chorus and the next verse, when Neon leant right in and pressed a kiss against Weiss's cheek, along with clearly placing her hand on another cheek a little lower to give a firm squeeze of its own. Live in front of everyone. What gall!

And the crowd went crazy, not sure what to expect from the prim and proper diva — but instead of gasping in shock or slapping Neon, she only raised her hand to cover her mouth as if she were a 1950's pinup girl, arching her back to press her rear even more firmly against the errant grope.

"No, I don't even know your name," Neon continued as if it was nothing, casually skating away from Weiss once that action was done, even flicking one of her knees up as if she were a ballerina skating away. Clearly her mischievous nature was showing again, the typical flirty visage of Neon that everyone knew.

But for Yang, it was something that twigged a small nerve of jealousy. Even when it shouldn't. Of course, she had no clue as to Neon and Weiss's situation; Ruby hadn't the heart to tell her in the brief time they had been together, and the others thought it best to keep silent, as well. However, she did turn to Ruby.

"Well damn, they're really going all out for the song, huh?"

"Uhhhhhh yeah," Ruby half-laughed back, scratching her head. "You know Weiss! Always trying her best!"

"It's not what, good girls do," Weiss sang pointedly, winking at the crowd. She knew that was an important line for her to say, given her image when contrasted with this particular performance. "Not how they should behave!"

Then, as Neon went whizzing past her again, she timed it perfectly to flash her hand out and smack her just below the tail.

As Yang continued to watch their performance, the movements and dances seemed to get more and more suggestive. "Just… a bit…" More occasional spanking, more winks and exaggerated swaying of hips, even Weiss being the one to kiss on the cheek on another chance. The two were close. They'd either rehearsed this a lot, or something deeper was going on.

But on the last note, both of them harmonized the last note together, and raised an arm in the air to encourage a loud cheer from the audience. In the midst of that cheer, Neon even chanced one more movement, grasping Weiss's chin and pulling her in for a quick kiss on the lips. Instant, but enough to make the already loud screams even louder. Once that died down however, she gave a quick wink toward one of the cameras, speaking clearly into the mic.

"Well, I liked it."

Again, Weiss affected the exaggerated image of a suburban housewife from seventy years ago as she giggled and let out a "Well, golly!" and began fanning her face with her hand. "Neon, you're supposed to buy a girl dinner first! Oh, that's right… you did!"

"Well, that's the first time I'd consider McDonald’s a date, but whatever floats your boat." And the audience laughed. Of course, on stage she was still in the closet, at least despite the flirting with anyone that moved. As much as the comment was an actual reference to one of their dates, they still needed to keep it hidden from the public. For the sake of both of their reputations, Weiss's father, and Neon's contract.

At least, she thought that was the plan. But Weiss seemed to have something else in mind for the rest of this little interlude.

"Speaking of boats floating," Weiss began, and the crowd calmed very slightly when they realized she had more to say instead of just leading into Neon's next song before she left the stage. "Some people have been asking a lot of questions about me lately. About what kind of boats I like to float. And it's really none of their business, but here's my thing.

"It doesn't matter, does it? However you choose to love, whoever you choose to love. That's all you. And you shouldn't let anybody boss you around, tell you that any love between two consenting adults is 'wrong' or 'offensive', or 'sin.' Even just the little kiss I shared with Neon; some Bible-thumper in the Midwest is going to throw away my album because that happened. One little kiss! So what?"

As most of the crowd cheered wildly for what Weiss was saying, she scanned them… and her eyes alighted on Yang.

And Yang noticed. How could she not? She'd been watching her like a hawk after all, just waiting for that brief moment where she was spotted. It felt like her heart stopped, or that time had slowed in that brief moment as she looked back at her. The time was right to prove it was really her, give her a gesture to show her it had to be. Which came in the form of her slipping the guitar off her back, and instead holding it in front of her instead, like she would play her a song if she could.

"If you ask me, someone like that doesn't deserve your album," Neon joined in, oblivious to what she must have just seen as she stared at the audience instead. "But you guys out there, in our audience today… Whether you're gay, bi, ace, pan – otherkin, or whatever the hell you identify as, don't you let anyone tell you what to do. Because you are you, and if you feel like no one loves you, I can tell you now that we do! We love you for who you are!"

"We really do," Weiss echoed quietly, smiling warmly down at Yang. Her Yang, the beautiful, perfect person that she was — she had made it! Come all this way, just to show that they weren't completely broken forever, that they could see each other again.

And she had the guitar. There was only one thing she wanted to do… one stupid, ridiculous thing, but the moment she thought of it, she knew it had to happen.

"And now, without further delay… I think we have something for you up next that a lot of Snow Bunnies and bloggers will probably be excited about, and I hope Neon will try and join me for the chorus… if she's game?"

"What?" Ruby breathed, squinting up at her. "Bloggers? That's me! But… but I don't know what she's talking about!"

But Yang was drawing the guitar closer toward herself, beginning to grow nervous once again. Not enough to completely run, but the hints Weiss had dropped were enough for her to begin piecing together what Weiss was trying to do, and she knew it would make people recognise her.

"If I'm game for what?" Neon asked with a grin. The audience laughed; but that prompted her to quickly cover the microphone with her hand, mouthing to her. "Seriously, what thing is this? I don’t remember it from rehearsal."

Weiss did Neon the same courtesy, covering her mic to say, "That video from the blog, the acoustic song? All over the news?" Then she glanced down at Yang. "I want to sing it with her. She brought the guitar; it's…" There was some remorse in her eyes when she looked back at Neon. "Are you gonna be okay with it if we do? Like, I want you with me, and the chorus is pretty simple, but if it's too sudden-"

"Yang is here?!" she nearly shouted, struggling to keep the volume low enough for the microphone to pick up.

But when she glanced toward the audience to where Weiss was looking, and only just spotted the messy blonde hair in the audience, she grew quiet, only able to nod. This was everything she feared… and yet, everything Weiss wanted. It would be a crime to ruin that. Maybe her own feelings were in turmoil but if she cockblocked Weiss just because she was jealous, it would make her worse than Adam.

"No yeah, go for it. If I forget a line, I can fake it with like, humming or whatever."

"I'll make it up to you later, with my tongue," she whispered back, clearly still in the mindset that she was with Neon. Not ‘ditching’ her just because her old girlfriend was in the arena. It helped Neon feel way less like an afterthought.

Then Weiss lowered her hand and walked forward a couple more paces, calling out to the audience, "Everybody, we have a special guest, and she needs a little encouragement. Can you give it up for my guitar-playing friend here?" Instantly, the audience grew more deafening, cheering and stamping their feet, clapping tremendously. Even the ones who had no idea what was going on were out of their minds with excitement, merely catching it from their neighbours who had cottoned on.

"OH! Oh my God, she wants you to go up there!" Ruby was squealing, actually jumping up and down like a little girl. "Yang, you have to do it! This is your chance - for them to know how good you can play the guitar AND for you to win Weiss back! It's so perfect, you can’t NOT go!"

"Oh… oh fuck…" Yet again, her heart was beating faster and faster, even more so when one of the lights pivoted in her direction, shining directly onto her as she held the guitar. No doubt now the cameras would be on her, and the four-gathered outside would be hearing everything in the radio. She could hear now the ridiculous voices of Winter and Blake telling her to go in her head.

Swallowing the last of her fear, she took a deep breath. And giving a brief nod to Ruby, she finally moved from her seating area with the guitar in her hand. She didn't just walk, she ran. Ran as fast as she could past the other audience members, past the security. In this case they allowed it, seeing as one of the stars herself invited her up there. The standing was reasonable enough to let her by, some even patting her back and wishing her luck.

"Come on, Yang," Weiss was saying into her microphone, eyes watering. She was really alright. The shock of her suddenly being there, in the last place she expected to see her, had finally worn off enough for her to be overjoyed that she was apparently alive and intact. Hearing it over the phone was enough to help her stop beating herself up every other second, but seeing her in person? She couldn't describe it.

There was a loud, piercing "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!" from where Yang had been sitting, and Weiss winced and spared Ruby a little wave before turning back to where the staff were helping Yang onto the stage, guitar and all. Her heart thudded in her throat. They were really going to do this; going to sing their song in front of God and everyone, and her new girlfriend was even going to join in! Could this be any more perfect?

But just as she was lifted up, and when Yang's hand was inches away from Weiss's as she was about to help her onto the stage… everything took a horrifying turn.

There was a deafening boom. One that came from two different directions: behind them, in the general area of the dressing rooms off the stage; and more worryingly, above. One of the fireworks holsters had exploded incorrectly, causing huge damage to the lighting rig above them both, and completely destroyed its secure anchors to the ceiling above.

Thankfully when it fell, it narrowly missed the diva who was leaning out to try and pull Yang up. It had decimated the stage, destroyed the trap door in the middle that Neptune was going to use for his big entrance, and caused panic among the crowds. The security staff had dropped Yang back to the ground as they went to do their bit instead, guide everyone to safely.

"SHIT!" Weiss let out, hearing her voice echo over the entire stadium. How had all of that insanity and destruction not cut the feed from her microphone? "Everyone, please, just- just remain calm and exit the building!" She didn't know how she knew exactly what to say, but it sounded correct. "Follow the authorities!"

Then she looked wildly around for Neon and Yang; neither were in sight. Glancing down into the crowd, she saw Ruby's red hoodie was already moving far off toward the nearest exit. That was good, she was safe. Now… where should she go?!

"WEISS!"

There was the panicked call of Yang below, who seemed to be attempting to jump at the stage despite the obvious fact she wouldn't be able to get up on her own. She needed to get up there, fast. That was her job, right? Looking around frantically for a moment, she spotted one of the camera towers at the side of the stage. It wasn't the most stable of things, but given the situation, it would do. Just before she sprinted toward it, she dropped the guitar to the ground, and shouted as loud as she could.

"Stay there! I'm coming up!!!"

With all the sparks showering outward from the fallen lighting rig, Weiss wasn't inclined to argue; she wasn't sure which way to go to escape the worst of it, and didn't want to try to run only to find herself scarred and burning. "O-okay!" she called back in a shaky, shrill voice — still broadcast all over the place. "I'm right here, waiting!"

Sprinting as fast as she could toward the camera rig, Yang leapt up onto it, attempting to shimmy herself up the scaffolding as best as she possibly could, despite how much she could feel it tilt and rock. She had no time to worry about that, not when Weiss was in danger. She lost her once, and wasn't about to do it again.

Not knowing what powered her, once she was high enough, she managed to launch herself toward the stage, able to hear the camera collapsing in her wake. That was an exit route gone. But still, she quickly ran toward Weiss as fast as she could, immediately putting herself between the principal and any incoming sparks. It was part of her job previously, of course, but she knew she had to protect Weiss, protect her from anything. Even if she wasn’t technically employed by the Schnees anymore.

"Where's Neon?!"

Startled out of her gratitude that Yang was standing in front of her again, she lowered the hand that had been raising to touch her, to somehow reconnect. "I… I don't know, I didn't see her fall over the side! She must be backstage!" When she heard her own voice echoing, she angrily ripped off the headset and threw it out into the seats. "ENOUGH! I can’t think with that thing on!"

"Shit… Okay, that might be our exit, we gotta get there." But how was another question. Half of the stage was partitioned off with the huge lighting rig in the middle of it, which even though it appeared stable at the moment, didn't seem like a fun option to climb through. But they had no choice.

Grasping Weiss's wrist, she said “Follow me!” as she headed to the side away from any fireworks. Managing to lift one of the lights up out the way to create a path for her, she grunted, "You… First…!"

Heart pounding in her throat for about a thousand reasons, Weiss obeyed, ducking underneath what her ex-bodyguard had lifted and trying not to argue even though she was terrified of what might happen next. Why had this happened? Was it merely a technical failure, or was someone out to get her? Or get Neon? It might even have been Winter, given how horrible she had been of late. But she tried not to concentrate on that as she found the path offstage and followed it.

But just in her range of hearing, there was a loud scream from someone she had come to know oh so well over the past few weeks. Just to the side of the doorways to backstage, Neon was trying to shuffle herself away and out from some of the cables she'd managed to get herself tangled in. And trying in turn to shuffle away from the haunting man above her, the very same who had interrogated her earlier.

"What did I tell you?!" Adam shouted. "I told you I'd make you pay! None of this had to happen, and it's now all your fault! How do you feel now, miss high-and-mighty?!"

"No…" Her hands were frantically scrabbling at the cables, trying to free herself. “Y-you stay back! I’m sorry, okay? I’ll… just don’t do anything crazy!”

Weiss raised a hand to cover her mouth as she watched Neon retreating from her intimidator, and she felt her pulse quicken. This was terrible. The man was at least six feet tall, and would squash her like a grape if he was given half a chance. And she knew what she had to do.

"You get away from her, you fucking JERK!" she shouted, picking up the nearest thing she could reach — a folding chair, as it turned out — and hurling it in Adam's direction.

By the time he'd turned to face her and see what she was doing, the chair was striking him right across the face, impacting hard enough that when he fell to the ground, he didn't get back up. Only remained there as he lowly groaned out. It was totally a lucky shot, but Weiss knew it was only because he was so completely focused on Neon. In a fair fight, neither of them would stand a chance against a guy like that.

Maybe that should change. ‘Self defense classes,’ she told herself firmly. ‘Gotta sign up for those. Soon.’

But by then, Yang had managed to shift her way through, rejoining Weiss again. That was until she noticed Neon still down on the ground, tangled up in the wires. Pulling Weiss to come with her, the two ran as quickly as possible to her side, and tried to get her untangled.

But when Yang touched Neon's foot, she immediately winced. "My ankle… I think I twisted it, really really badly…"

"You get her out of here," she told Yang bravely, eyes full of fear for her costar and girlfriend, whose shoulder she touched affectionately. "I'll go see if Neptune and everybody else is clear and then I'll join you."

Nodding, she leant down and took Neon into her arms, lifting her easily and starting to pace toward the exits. But before she ran at full speed, she turned back for a moment longer, just enough time to shout out, "I'll be right back!"

But as Yang fled from backstage, avoiding the destroyed dressing rooms and heading straight to the fire exits, the groaning of Adam had only gotten louder. To Weiss's terror, he had started to fetch himself to his feet, slowly bringing his knees up as he pushed up to stand. A bloody nose seemed to be the only damage, along with the odd sway as he walked toward her.

"Weeks of meticulous planning," he growled out, wiping away some of the blood as best she could. "Weeks! And paying off security not to check bags, sneaking around and planting the explosives! And I'm not about to let some bible-fucking dyke ruin this for me!"

"Well, too bad – you already failed, you reject!" she snapped at him as she darted to and fro, trying to see if anybody else was back there. Every room seemed to be empty. At the last second, she ran into her own and grabbed her snood, tugging it over her head. That was probably a horrible use of her time, but she absolutely refused to leave it behind. Not ever.

But as she made her way back toward the stage, Adam was continuing to limp toward her, continuing to laugh to himself. "You know… This works out better." He grinned, and it was not the grin of a sane man. "Now the tragic accident that's taken the life of the darling Weiss is gonna be something Neon has caused. I wonder how she'll react to that… that's way better than letting her off with just dying. She can suffer first this way!"

But Weiss was already laughing at him. Hands on her hips, she walked right up to him and glared upward, face set and eyes steely. "Really? You're going to kill me just because I'm more important to her than you are? So pathetic! You are literally the most pathetic waste of space I've ever known if you can't handle life without Neon - whom you abused repeatedly, you- you complete jerk! I just don't understand why you can't let it go!"

"Shut your little MOUTH!"

He exaggerated such a word as he swung his hand around at full force, backhanding the side of her cheek as powerfully as he could. It was far more than enough force to have her on the ground, where he paced around menacingly.

"O-ohhhh…" She was a bit dazed from having the stuffing knocked out of her, so she didn't have much of an ability to respond. But she knew she wouldn't have to; in seconds, her knight in shining armour was going to swoop in and save her from the raging dragon. That she hadn't got there in time to stop him from landing a single blow was of no consequence to her; she would take a thousand slaps to the face if it meant being reunited with her. She had to have faith.

"Maybe you wanna take her place, huh?! Maybe I should take you back into the dressing room, instead! Is that what you want, you stupid little slut? God, all you starlets are all the same – you want to be sluts, but want to be treated with respect, and you don’t seem to fucking understand those two things don’t fucking go together! Why are you all so stupid?!"

But as he began to rant and rave at her, the bodyguard had returned. Hands empty, only curled into tight fists as she moved forward as quietly as she could. Cold fury burned in her eyes. Weiss had never seen her in such a state ever before. And an almost bloodthirsty smile crept onto her own face when she realised what would happen next.

"J-just try it!" she screamed up at him, desperate to keep his attention fixated on her just long enough for Yang to close that distance. "You filthy pervert, just you try and touch me! You'll be sorry!"

"You want me to try?! Because I will, darling! I'll screw the gay out of y-"

Before he could continue the disturbing monologue, or take another step closer, Yang managed to suddenly pick him up by his hips. Similar to the very first action she did to Weiss when they first ever met. Only this time, she didn’t bother resting him on her shoulder, or to restrain him; frankly Yang no longer cared what happened to the human scum. She threw him hard toward the open trap doors leading to the area beneath the stage, watching as he bounced on the floor once, before a panicked scream followed while he fell down.

And though Weiss was not at all sad to see him go, she did notice something fall from his open hand as he plummeted. Something glinting and metallic, with glowing buttons on it.

"Yang, we have to go!" she shouted as she scrabbled at the floor with her platform heels; they weren't exactly made for running but there wasn't time to take them off. "NOW!"

Everything in the next few seconds happened in what seemed like slow motion.

All Adam could do was watch as the small glowing device was landing elsewhere, and then look at the multiple rigged fireworks cases he'd set up under the stage. Even though he was in extreme pain, and no condition to move, he spared two words:

"Oh fuck."

But for Yang, she'd just managed to catch a glimpse of the metal as it fell to the ground. There was just enough time to either save herself, or do her job as Weiss's bodyguard. And it was no contest. Dashing forward, she managed to grab Weiss into her grip, pull her into her body as tightly as possible, arcing her back in an attempt to shield her with her own body as she stood with her back to the doors.

That turned out to be the right choice. There was a louder, even more deafening boom than the first that originated from below and the centre of the stage, sending the two girls flying. The entire time, Yang didn't let go. Even with all the shrapnel in the air that ripped her clothes and cut her skin, even as they were thrown against one of the on-stage camera rigs, her head and arm colliding with it incredibly hard. All that while, she shielded Weiss from the worst of it. Needing to save her, even if the cost was her own life.

Definitely the most shocking finale to a Beach Fest anyone had ever seen.

#White Noise #freezerburn fanfic #rwby fanfiction #rwbyremnants

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hollywoodx4 · 7 years

Text

Sticking with the Schuylers (29)

(Expect slow updates this week-I’m just getting into a massive workload for my course, plus my birthday trip to NYC with my sister is THIS WEEKEND and then I have about 5,000 things to do when I get back from sherking all my responsibilities off. C’est la vie, right?)

But seriously, thank you for all of your love. It’s amazing and I appreciate it so much!

( @ellzabethschuyler it’s the weirdest thing I can tag you on my laptop just fine but whenever I’m answering things on mobile it gives me the hardest time)

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Phillip Schuyler is not a man of many words; not in conversations other than political debate. Even then he’d hang back, letting his collected tone of voice and fact-backed opinions make his argument for him. He’d spent much of his life attempting to placate two older brothers and a father that hadn’t accepted his lack of sport ability. Peace-making with a grouping of old white men was just about the same level of weary stress he’d dealt with in practiced reserve his entire life.

He wasn’t prepared for the level of conversation that came about with three daughters-three beautiful daughters who’d begun bringing boys home far sooner than he’d expected. And when the first prospective boyfriend did come to meet him-Jeremy Atkins, whose father was a surgeon and mother ran in the political circle as well-he hadn’t been as well-prepared as he’d liked. Phillip had lectured that fourteen year old boy until he was red in the face with embarrassment, keeping his head down to his shoes as Angelica looked on with the same mortification.

His tactics hadn’t been the best back then, when dating just meant a trip down to Serendipity for a frozen hot chocolate with two straws, coming back far before the sun would set with a hug in the doorway under his hard stare through the window.

It hadn’t been particularly difficult yet, either; Angelica had dated only Jeremy before she’d met John, and then although they’d had a father-daughter struggle within that relationship he’d always been a part of their family. It was with an unpleasant air that he’d accepted him, only after his doubts had circled into harsh exchanges and words that could never be taken back. Phillip was used to keeping calm but the fear of losing his daughter had driven him to a level of protective anger he’d never felt before.

Angelica left for a weekend when she was eighteen, a long-winded note left on the California King being the only knowledge he’d had of where she’d gone and why she’d done it. It was then that the severity of his words and the lack of others had become increasingly clear. Angelica had chosen John, even when Phillip had worked so hard to provide for his family. And so he’d taken stock of his actions, the entire weekend spent in suspension between worrying for his eldest daughter and wondering just how he’d be able to turn himself around. He wanted to make them happy.

Years after the theatrics between Angelica and John, Peggy had a few dates here and there. There was nothing she’d constituted serious enough for an introduction. That left only Eliza, the most gentle and demure of the three. She had brought nearly every potential suitor to her father, even when he had insisted it not absolutely necessary. She hated hiding things from him, even when the conversations were far too drawn out for a date to homecoming who’d chosen her as the only single member of her friend group. There was a necessity in it for her, where she’d discussed honesty and open conversation while Phillip nodded in understanding, telling Catherine she’d be the soundboard for all of those talks.

“She’s very mature,” He’d mentioned one night after another attempt at open conversation from their middle daughter. “What other sixteen year old would come to her parents about her first kiss?”

There were things he knew his daughters would keep from him, details he’d rather not hear. But for Eliza to be so upfront and honest about every aspect of her life was refreshing, especially between Angelica’s jaunt at eighteen and Peggy’s newfound freewheeling spirit at the same age. Eliza had always been a separate entity, between her more outspoken older sister and wild-natured younger. And even when she had met James Reynolds, and their relationship had progressed faster than Phillip would have liked, she was always cautious. There were moments of time where she’d come to visit alone and perch herself on the couch across from his armchair, eyes wide and waiting for him to look up from his work. And then she’d smile. He’d always been a sucker for her sweet and honest turn of lips and lift of cheeks, the expression that seemed to brighten the room no matter the circumstance. And no matter what she was asking, or talking about, it was with great difficulty that he ever said no to her.

Her honesty made it hard to say no.

Now, she wasn’t being honest.

Philip Schuyler sits in the parlor drinking a small cup of French press coffee when his wife comes from the kitchen with her hands folded neatly in front of her. Even from his place at the table on the opposite side of the room he can tell that she’s waiting to speak; hands fiddling with miniscule movements and breaths coming long and calculated. When he looks up at her fully she glides across the room to him, holding out her phone.

“Before you say anything I want you to take a breath and keep an open mind.”

“Okay…”

“And just…keep a level head.” Catherine is speaking in a tone so much like Eliza’s level-headed, gentle voice that he sits back in his chair, noting the similarity as he lets her words sink in. She’s attempting to calm him, to pacify him before showing him whatever it is she’s seen. Phillip is not sure he’s too happy about that notion. He follows his wife’s instructions anyway, nodding before taking the phone from her hand.

A picture of a man is the forefront of attention; hair long enough to be pulled back into a ponytail, facial hair slightly unkempt. He scans the picture first with curiosity, until Elizabeth’s Instagram name come into his line of vision. Then, he’s even more curious. There is a caption below the picture, a few short sentences to sum up the invasion. And then, his eyes shoot immediately back up to Catherine.

He can barely discern the feeling that’s found its way to the pit of his stomach. First there is anger, bubbling and rolling along in his veins at this face he’s never seen before-the first name he’s never heard, even in the multitude of passing conversation he’s had with Eliza. He’s unsure whether the anger is aimed at her or at this man; it seems to inhabit him in an even layer, festering without any direction to go. It’s accompanied by an upset, and a curiosity that takes over completely. The new feeling pushes his anger aside, to the pits of his stomach where it covers them almost completely. Instead of festering he is only slightly upset. Most of all, he needs answers.

Phillip looks up at his wife, who is watching the flickering of emotions on his face with patient readiness; a wonder of which reaction will settle dominant within him. Catherine is met with simple eyes and an even tone. Her husband asks if she can get his phone for him. The level of his placidity alarms her but she says nothing, taking careful steps to and from the kitchen where he had left his phone.

“Phillip,” Her voice comes out in a careful warning without having to say the words. The slight tilt of her head and lowering of eyes says enough. He shakes his head at her before pressing the phone to his ear.

“I’m just going to call her.”

…

The first day of a new week typically brought about a lot of things for Elizabeth Schuyler. First there was a renewed sense of optimism; of a hope in the chance to repeat a weekly routine over again. If there were changes she was often more than happy to implement them, embracing the possibilities that came about with a new step in her plan. Monday was a good day because although it meant the end of a weekend, there was always something to look forward to.

This Monday is particularly wonderful, she decides when her alarm goes off. The sun is not yet up, the room cast in the darkness of a bitter winter morning. December is not her favored month by any means but she would give up the beauty of the spring for the serenity of this moment without as much as a second thought.

Eliza shifts slightly, reaching one arm to her nightstand with careful precision to mute the blaring of her alarm. A glance at the time shows that she should probably be getting up soon. The barely audible chatter from beneath her quiets that notion in an instant. His lips are moving just slightly, enough to make incoherent words Alexander mumbles under the guise of a deep sleep. Half of her body is on top of his; legs slung over his legs, arms around his waist. And her head rests on his chest so peacefully that she can hear the thrumming of his heartbeat, the deep and gentle breaths that are an accessory to his sleep. Her alarm goes off again, a reminder to get her day in motion, and she groans. There is a movement underneath her, the shaking of Alexander’s silent laughter, and she lifts her head from his chest to frown at him.

“What?” She questions him as he opens his eyes, a hand finding the small of her back and pulling her to rest against him again.

“Your refusal to get out of bed-it’s cute.”

“Will it still be cute when I fail all of my classes because of you?”

“Can it still be considered my fault if you’re the one who slept on top of me the entire night?” She smirks then, shaking her head as sleep-mussed waves fall into the frame of her face. Eliza leans in, pressing her lips gently to his once, twice before casting her shining eyes on his. She reluctantly rolls out of bed, sitting on the edge before moving to the closet.

“Maybe I only slept on you to stop your sleep-talking. Do you always have so much to say?”

“Only when it’s a good sleep; trust me, I’ve never slept so peacefully in my life.”

It’s a truth that rings clear for both of them; Alex shifts in her plush queen bed, stretching his rested muscles and watching her move around the room. It has been so long since he’s felt this rested, eyes without their dark circles, a smile upon his face when greeted with a new day. There is no rush-no sense of concentrated anxiety rushing though him. There is only a simplistic sort of peace. His first class is in two hours so he’s taking his time, chatting with her while she bustles about, getting her things ready for the day. When she steps into the shower he turns the coffee on, a mug for her and a mug for him, and settles himself at the kitchen island with a copy of yesterday’s newspapers.

If the sight of Alexander first thing in the morning through sleepy eyes and tangled bodies wasn’t enough, there was this. He has one elbow propped on the counter, the other hand with his mug of steaming liquid pressed to his lips. His favored old t-shirt hangs loose around his body, soft cotton framing his relaxed posture. She grins. The picture of Alexander settled neatly at her counter, as if he’d been there his whole life, was enough to bring Eliza across the room to him. She settles her head behind him on his shoulder, arms wrapped light around his neck as her damp hair brushes against his cheek before her lips replace them.

He hands Eliza her coffee and she crosses the kitchen for something to eat, rifling through the cabinets. Alexander looks up at her in curiosity, watching her purposeful actions with contented silence. She has two bowls settled on the counter along with a plethora of ingredients, which she mixes without measuring before plopping spoonful after spoonful of pale batter onto a pan. The sizzling is not all that breaks the silence; Eliza’s humming through her work, dishes clattering in the sink and fingers drumming on the countertop. When she turns he’s still staring, mirrored grins on both of their lips as she notices. And then she’s sliding a plate over to him, pulling the newspaper from his grasp.

“Pancakes?” It’s half of a question, the way his voice is slightly inflected upon the surprise.

“Don’t get used to it.” Eliza winks before turning back to her work. The morning comes easy to her, when the sun is just beginning to show itself. Even through the snowy, damp winter it feels bright. She’s opened every curtain, even cracked a window in the bathroom to let some fresh air in. It’s all so much; the domesticity, that he rises from his chair to wrap his arms around her while she cooks the last of the batter. And then he’s peppering soft kisses on her neck, where he predicts her bell-like laughter before it has happened.

“Stop,” She wheels around to occupy his lips with her own, an act of defiance unable to go unnoticed. He moves in to reciprocate before he adds a slight tilt to his head, finding the soft skin below her ear.

“I have class in twenty minutes, I’d like to get there in one neatly represented piece and you know how difficult you’re making this.”

“Do I? I had no idea.”

She shakes her head, letting shower-dampened waves be invaded by his hands as she accepts her fate. There’s a realization not only that she’ll definitely be late, but that in no shape will she let herself regret it. There’s too much here, home, to give up for a lecture on child safety. Those thoughts go flying out the window as his hands are on her waist, pressing her up to the kitchen counter. The proximity is a much welcomed wake-up call, her brain becoming muddled with the sound of her name tickled against her ear in a gentle release of air from Alexander’s wandering lips.

That whispering is joined by a chirping, electronic and disruptive.

“Leave it,” He pleads as her body stiffens against his. But the ringing of her phone comes through a specific sound, set to only one phone number. She pulls away from him, nose crinkled and all desire suddenly dissipating as she shakes her head.

“It’s my father.”

He nods then, clearing his throat and smoothing his t-shirt out before trailing back to the island. He plops himself on the barstool with a certain hesitant air, as if Phillip Schuyler himself is able to see him through the ringing phone. Alexander’s eyes are cast back at the newspaper, any hint of concentration badly feigned as his ears zero in on their conversation.

“Elizabeth, sorry to bother you so early in the morning but your mother,”

“-Don’t drag me into this, Phillip.”

“I saw your wonderful post on your picture-sharing account this morning.”

She had known that this was coming, had thought about it as she’d closed her eyes last night with her head on Alexander’s chest. That photo, as kind and beautiful and protective as it was, would have reached thousands of people by now. The only foresight she’d forgotten was the one that included letting her father know about Alexander before the rest of the general public. Sure, she’d mentioned seeing someone new. But not once had she brought him over, or mentioned a name. In any aspect of the dating conversation she’d simply brushed it aside, heart racing, and moved on to a new topic.

With her father on the line she could not avoid the contradiction settling in her nerves any longer. Eliza had so desperately wanted to share her happiness with her parents; to let them meet Alexander, and see how good he was. But then there was the crossing thought of her father, tight-lipped and stoic, possibly being unaccepting. Throughout her life she had known him as loving, and kind, but to his family. In the real world, in front of his friends and the company they kept at brunch, there was a boundless need to share each opinion with unfiltered pride that seemed to fester inside of Phillip Schuyler with no sign of disappearing. And that huge opinion, the constant inability to see the grey areas within an argument…there was a red flag in weighing the differences between Alexander and her father. While she loved her father’s consistent opinions she treasured Alexander’s swift arguments, backed by changing facts and an ability to switch sides with a compelling opposing statement. And if the choice was presented, she knew she’d make the same choice that Angelica had made all those years ago. Eliza didn’t want to do that to her father again. Avoiding the subject was easier.

“I’m so sorry about that, dad. There was somebody who was bothering me, and Alexander wasn’t too happy about it, so it kind of just happened. I promise you I was going to tell you soon.”

“How soon, Elizabeth? How long have you been seeing this person without saying so much as one word to me or your mother?”

“Almost four months.” Her voice is squeaking now, soft and reserved as she envisions the hardened expression he’d be holding by now. He was probably on the other side of the phone pacing, making a case for himself.

Instead, she hears a collected sigh; a whisper muffled by what she supposes is his finger covering the receiver. There’s a pause, lengthened by the heightened anxiety that’s begun to take over. Alexander watches her lean on the counter with a hand on her mug, tapping and tracing until finally he’s pulling it away from her, holding her hand in his instead.

It’s alright, he mouths the words to Eliza as her eyes raise to meet his.

“Elizabeth,” She can barely hear her father’s words, only his tone. He’s not angry-deciphering his timbre she decides he’s not being terse or quick with her. He’s careful, as if he knows the wrong words will hurt her feelings.

“I’m bringing Alexander to brunch this week.” It had already been decided, but when she interrupts her father’s words with her own the weight of the situation sits heavily on her shoulders. She’s excited, yes, but the nerves of the two parties meeting nearly drowns that anticipation completely.

“That sounds like a good idea.”

“I’ll see you then.”

“Elizabeth,” Phillip stops-looks at his wife for support. She nods, a smile of reassurance on her beautifully made features upon the way he’s handled himself. He clears his throat. “I want nothing but happiness for you.”

“I know.”

When she hangs up the phone she falls into Alexander’s support, hugging him before grabbing her bag to head out the door. Checking the time, she realizes she will in fact be late for her class-just not for the reasons she’d hoped. The anxious anticipation for Sunday brunch sits heavy in her stomach as she begins to count down the days to Alexander meeting her father.

#hamliza #hamilton au #mine: SWTS #I mean #I could write domestic hamliza for the rest of my days #isn't that what we're all here for anyway #but eliza never has it that easy #my poor cinnamon roll

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tomahawk-swing · 7 years

Text

New Beginning

Dingo's hurried steps resonated down the empty corridors. The sun was barely rising outside, its very first rays casting a faint light on the snow-covered landscape of the school grounds. It was chilly even inside the building, but Dingo didn't feel cold. His rising stress kept him warm.

"Relax, Dingo. It's not like you're about to meet the president." Tomahawkman tentatively joked, in vain. Dingo's expression remained stuck in the same frown.

"Don't talk to me about the president …" Dingo grumbled. Images from a rather fresh dream - or was it a nightmare ? - popped into his mind, and he chased them away with a shake of his head. He had more important things to focus on.

Dingo felt glad that none of the students were hanging around the building yet. The early meeting had forced Dingo to get out of bed at an ungodly hour, but much to his own surprise, he was already awake before his alarm even rang. In fact, Dingo wasn't sure to have caught a single minute of sleep that night.

Even if no one was around to see him, Dingo felt extremely uncomfortable in the school uniform he was wearing. It fitted him well, though it was a little tight around the shoulders, but the worst part was most certainly the lack of hood. Dingo had been allowed to keep his headband, at least, but the absence of a hood over his head unsettled him greatly. He didn't have the usual protective layer to keep his face away from people's attention.

Dingo's steps guided him all the way to the office he was supposed to reach. He had arrived early enough to afford getting lost a little, which had inevitably been the case, but he made it on time to the appointment. Dingo took a deep breath, and gave a few knocks on the door.

"Come in !" A stern voice called, inviting Dingo to open the door himself. The boy did as he was indirectly told, and pushed the office's door open.

Two people were standing inside the surprisingly small room, one sitting at the desk that sat right across from the door, and the other standing next to the chair.

"Good morning ! Please, come in and take a seat !" The man standing near the desk spoke up, his tone much lighter than the voice Dingo had previously heard. The boy's eyes lingered on the man first - his graying hair betrayed the age he was hiding behind his upbeat attitude. He seemed to be in his mid-forties, but he behaved as if he was still twenty years younger, as if in deny that he had gotten any older. Dingo was reminded of Meijin.

Dingo took one of the two empty seats in front of the desk, and finally looked at the second person inside the room. The woman who sat behind the desk wore her grey hair at shoulder-length, and dressed rather elegantly. She was frail and short of stature, so much that a single gust of the winter wind might have blown her away, but the way she held herself gave off a much different aura. She inspired respect.

"So, did you have time to explore the buildings yet ? I suppose not, but don't worry, I'll give you a tour !" The man went on, his enthusiasm knowing no limits. "Oh, I almost forgot to introduce myself ! I'm Nikaidou Yuuichi, your homeroom teacher. I'm in charge of second-years right now, but I'll be following my current class to third year in April, and you've been assigned to me !"

Dingo could only smile at the man's excited words - just how old was this guy, really ? The ring Dingo spotted at his hand suggested that he was married, and probably had children, yet he still sounded like a fresh college graduate, full of hopes and dreams about his upcoming adult life. Behind his glasses, his eyes glimmered like a child's.

Nikaidou looked about to speak again, but he was interrupted by the older woman raising her hand. "I think I can handle introducing myself, Yuuichi." She said curtly.

"My name is Sasaki Yukiko, and I am the principal of this school. I have studied your application form, and we will be happy to welcome you in our school this upcoming April." The woman explained. "As Mr. Nikaidou has already told you, you have been assigned to his class for the next school year, but he has insisted that you spent today along with your future classmates, once your registration is finalized. I believe that you have brought all the files I sent in my last email ?"

Dingo was finally given the chance to speak, though his answer was kept to a hurried "Yes !", as he pulled a plastic folder out of the messenger bag he had brought with him. Inside was all the paperwork he had struggled to fill in, with Tomahawkman's and Maha's help.

The principal took out the paper sheets from the folder, and threw each of them a quick glance through her rectangle-shaped glasses. "It all seems to be in order. Thank you." She concluded.

Dingo gave a sigh of relief, which didn't go unnoticed. The woman had a rare smile, and felt the need to reassure the boy. "I wouldn't have rejected your application for something as trivial as a missing signature or a typo in your files. I understand that this is all new for you, and be assured that we will all do our best to be accommodating to your situation."

The words were reassuring, but Dingo still felt a twinge of annoyance. As terrified as he was at the thought of what he was doing, he didn't want to be treated any differently from the other students. The achievement wouldn't feel as important.

"Well then, if that's all settled, it means we're free to go !" Nikaidou exclaimed, making Dingo jump. The boy wondered if he would ever get used to his future teacher's outbursts of motivation.

The man walked around the desk, offering Sasaki a bright smile before he gestured for Dingo to follow after him. "We're a bit ahead of schedule, don't you worry. We have plenty of time to walk around, before we go to the classroom."

Dingo would have very much appreciated to sit down on a chair and do nothing, but that part of the day would be for later. He followed after the energetic professor, giving the occasional nod to show that he was listening to the man's passionate explanations.

The school was larger than Dingo had first believed : its main building had several floors, each year getting its floor, with dedicated departments for classes that required labs or study rooms. The principal's office and teachers' room were all on the first floor, along with all administration-related rooms. There was a gym in another building, along with a little greenery, and a rather large park for the students to hang out during break. A cafeteria offered meals and snacks for the students that didn't bring their own food - Dingo knew that he wouldn't need to worry about that. He already had a box of takeout curry in his bag, safely wrapped and kept warm, along with cereal bars in case he needed some extra energy.

Nikaidou's voice never dropped below its usual enthusiastic tone, making each of the school's features sound extraordinary. While Tomahawkman's eyes sparkled with admiration, even Dingo had to admit that he was quite impressed. The man managed to make school life seem like an almost exciting prospect.

"And there we are ! Class 2-B, my second home, almost." The professor laughed. The door slid open under his push, and he gestured for Dingo to come in.

Stepping inside the classroom took Dingo's breath away for a second. The walls were full of colorful posters and banners, the desks all individual, some even decorated with stickers. It was nothing like the dull, boring space Dingo had expected to find. Dingo had the hunch that the homeroom teacher's personality had something to do with the room's rather liberal decoration.

"I'm afraid that the only free desk is the one at the very bottom, next to the back door." Nikaidou explained, gesturing to said desk. "But if you have any preference, I'll make sure to give you a desk that suits you for next year. What do you think ?"

Dingo was taken aback by the question, and felt the words slip away from him. He hadn't really calmed down ever since he'd stepped past the school's gates.

"N-next to the window is fine … At the back, too." Dingo stuttered, looking down in slight embarrassment. He felt incredibly vulnerable, without his hood to conceal his overly expressive features.

"So you're that kind of student, I see ! You need a distraction, in case class' too boring, and you don't want to get noticed." The teacher laughed. "But that's fine. The third grade classrooms are slightly larger, so I'm sure I'll have to trouble giving you the desk you want. But don't use this as an excuse to slack off ! If I catch you sleeping, I'll move you to the front middle desk !"

Dingo's expression showed so much distress that the man could only laugh again : "Don't make such a face ! I will forgive you dozing off during morning class, and after lunch. But else, I dare hope that you'll do your best to keep up."

For the first time, the man's tone turned a little more serious. He sat onto the closest desk, and pushed his glassed back on his nose with an index finger.

"I saw you wince when Mrs. Sasaki talked about giving you some kind of special treatment. That's not what you want, am I right ?"

The astute question was met with a nod from Dingo.

"That's what I thought. All I want is for you to fit in amongst your classmates, and I don't want to jeopardize that. You surely don't sound like you'd fit the 'teacher's pet' type, and I don't want your classmates to ostracize you, because they think that we're rolling the red carpet out at your feet. Me, Mrs. Sasaki and all your teachers will be keeping an eye on you, for sure, but if you wish us to give you some space, then that's what we'll do. We won't treat you any differently than we would any other student."

Finally, Dingo felt the tight knot in his chest loosen a little. For once in his life, the thought of being treated like any other member of a crowd made him feel at ease. He didn't want to stand out, to be someone special. He wanted to get a taste of the normal life that had been ripped from his hands at the age of 10.

"That'd … that's be perfect, Professor." Dingo replied, after a little moment of silence. He did an effort to use the formal way of speaking he had never bothered to use before, which was one of the points he had worked on the most in the past weeks.

"I just … I want to be everyone's equal in here." The boy went on, trying to look his future professor in the eyes. "I know that I'll stand out at first, but it can't be helped. I'll get to know my classmates, I'll make friends, and I'll … I'll do my best to blend in, and to keep up with everything. I'll do my best !"

Dingo's motivation brought a bright smile back to his professor's face. "That's what I wanted to hear !" He exclaimed, and couldn't resist the urge to slam a hand on Dingo's shoulder.

"Now go outside before the bell rings. Stay around my desk when everyone comes in, and I'll introduce you to the class when they've all sat down." The man commanded. "Are you sure you'll be okay ?"

Dingo had a glance outside the window. The sun had finished to rise, and the school's ground were quickly filling with students. A new school day was about to start.

"Yeah. I'll be fine." Dingo assured. His eyes finally showed a bit of his usual self-confidence.

"I'll see you in a minute, then. Good luck for your first day !" Nikaidou greeted, as he watched Dingo make his way out the classroom.

Despite the reassuring conversation he'd just had, Dingo still felt his heart pound under his ribs. He exchanged a glance with Tomahawkman's hologram on his shoulder - the Navi raised both thumbs up in reply, showing his full support to his operator.

Dingo took another deep breath, and went to lean against a wall nearby. The time had come for him to try something new, but he didn't feel any of the usual excitement - only nervousness.

This might just be a trial day, but the stakes were still high. If he didn't pass this test, his hopes of going back to school would all be blasted to smithereens.

#drabble #[[welp this ended up being longer than i expected #have 2000 words ^^ and it's only part 1 of what i wanted to write so a part 2 will be coming up soon !!#i'm in vacation so i can afford to spend some time writing haha #Dingo gets to meet his future homeroom teach \o/ and in the next episode he'll meet his classmates ^^#i hope you guys will enjoy this drabble if you take the time to read it !#thank you in advance if you do and please leave some feedback if you have any comments (positive or negative) !!]]

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ginnyzero · 4 years

Text

The Evolution of the Lone Prospect

Coming up with ideas can be a process. Sometimes you have a setting or a character but you don’t have anything else. And it can take time to build and sometimes after years of having a germ of an idea it can take a couple weeks to come together and start to feel alive.

Back when I was going to college at the Academy of Art in San Francisco, most of my friends were those in the comic or game departments not other fashion design students. We liked D10 role playing, mostly using the old World of Darkness system. Vampire the Masquerade, Werewolf the Apocalypse, Changeling the Dreaming and their Solar, Lunar etc Chinese based game. None of our games ever lasted very long due to the fact that we were college students in art heavy programs with a lot of studios and practical work on our hands. I was in the tail end of my “morbid fear of death and dying” period. (Long story.) And was obsessively buying all the Vampire: The Masquerade books I could get my hands on. And then came semester I took Narrative Storytelling as part one of a two part English course requirements.

Claudia Holm taught the class. An energetic redhead who paced the floors and told funny stories. She wrote travelogues. As we went over the syllabus she came to the main thrust of the course, which was write a five page story in three drafts over fifteen weeks. We could write about anything we wanted, be it memoir or fiction. However, she had two personal caveats, no vampires and no ninjas. She’d seen vampires doing everything from eating pizza with the ability to go out into the sun. This was the middle of the Twilight and Naruto craze. But for me it was a bit disappointing and being somewhat of a perverse and petty nature. I decided to write a story about a werewolf instead.

She loved it. She thought it was hysterical.

So I tucked the idea away in my head, maybe a bunch of high school students who liked playing basketball and had to keep up the masquerade. Obviously this never got anywhere because I’m not really a young adult author. High school was also a miserable experience for me and I just can’t figure out how to revisit memories of things I never actually did and make it seem enjoyable. I didn’t participate in sports. I never had a boyfriend. I wasn’t part of any clique or crowd.

My friend and later roommate, Kaylynn Spears loved Werewolf: the Apocalypse and the Lunars of WoD. There was a picture in the old World of Darkness Werewolf source book of a pack of werewolves in a junkyard. They were in different forms, big answer to the chainsaw Crinos, wolf form, human. They were working on cars and just hanging out. I liked the image. Werewolves who were comfortable with each other in every form doing normal things.

When we lived together. We tended to walk to the grocery store several blocks away. Two thin, slight girls with short hair with backpacks going under an underpass of the highway and into SOMA towards the baseball stadium. We kept our eyes open for the homeless and cute corgi dogs. The best way we found to keep people from approaching us was to talk about fandom things and if the people were particularly annoying the conversation always turned to “So about werewolves.” It was entertaining to watch people who were panhandling back away very quickly. And one time, on the way back, we were behind a guy wearing a leather jacket. I think we spoke a bit too loud and spooked him because that is when I had the idea for ‘biker’ werewolves.

But the idea continued to sit in the back of my head. I stubbornly pursued a degree in fashion design and then went to work for my father at his shop not doing fashion. (Another long story.)

One of my co-workers, Jason Bailey, and I would mostly talk about our hobbies, when we were talking to each other. I had a lot of movies I liked to watch and he would in the winter work out and watch television. He knew I liked the Expendables and recommended Sons of Anarchy. SoA wasn’t my usual type of show, I had money to burn and I bought the first season. I plowed through that in a few days. I was hooked. I was getting into the second or third season when one night I was really tired and decided to put in Expendables 2. Expendables 2 isn’t as great as the original, but it still holds the ‘mercenary group with motorcycles’ idea and well, it’s over the top funny.

I got to the end and the ideas began to meld in my head. Expendables, a mercenary group that rode motorcycles, Sons of Anarchy a fictional motorcycle club, and strangely since it was the end of the Twilight period, Twilight, except, remember Claudia Holm. No Vampires! So, werewolves instead.

I think I laughed a good five minutes.

Then I opened a word file and I started thinking about what type of werewolf mercenary biker unit I would want to read about. When was it set, where would it be set. Why bikers? I’m a big fan of Star Wars. My favorite Star Wars series in the expanded universe is the X-Wing novels. The X-Wing novels are typically a bunch of whacky characters who fly the equivalent of F-16s in the distant future. They’re pilots, arrogant, cocky and really, a ton of fun. That’s the type of group I wanted. A group of characters.

I wanted it to be in the future. I didn’t want to be another urban fantasy. But, I didn’t want it to be so far in the future or the technology so far out there that if it was ever optioned for anything visual it’d require a huge amount of CGI work. I’m a firm believer in the success of low budget movies. Thus, a few centuries out from a post-apocalyptic setting. Things are getting better, but they aren’t back to pre- landscape changing, war conditions either.

I researched motorcycle clubs, wolves, werewolves and mercenary units. I put my reasoning together. Motorcycle clubs often work security. Security is something mercenaries also do. Security is important after a big war. Motorcycle clubs need territory. Wolves need territory. Werewolves need packs and a way to hide they are packs. Wolves work together to hunt and provide. Werewolves are going to have those urges. Security is a nice constructive outlet. Sturgis and the Black Hills are an important area for motorcycle clubs. I’ve actually been to the Black Hills.

For a while, a lot of the characters didn’t have gender or names because it wasn’t important to me what their gender was, it was more important what their role was and as the story evolved then the characters were given gender usually based on how funny I found the idea at the time. The only two who had specific gender in the beginning were Savannah and Gideon. I drafted a plot for a “movie” and got to the end and went. “Now wait a damn minute, where did these people come from?”

And that is when the story really started to come alive and gain a soul.

There are methods/gimmicks to writing. And I’ll admit that I used one in the Lone Prospect. I took the view of the outsider, of Gideon, and used him as a way to both drive the story and explain what is going on in the world and in the pack. A reader can relate to Gideon. Sure, he doesn’t know anything about motorcycle clubs. The reader probably doesn’t either. But they both can learn over the course of the story. And giving prospects a hard time is a time honored motorcycle club tradition. (Innocent whistling.)

There were other factors that helped this happen when it happened. There were indications to me that character driven storytelling with morally grey characters was the way the times were headed. That people want stories to uplift their moods and not more gritty, dark, shocking science fiction and fantasy. But those were hunches and my gut.

This is how stories evolve, you’re walking down the street with your friend and you see a tough dude in a motorcycle jacket and you go “psst, biker werewolves” and laugh together because you both have to write stories for an English class that don’t involve vampires or ninjas even if you both really like vampires and ninjas.

And there is a squeaky toy of doom parrot up there on a telephone wire laughing and waiting for a friend. The start of yet another great or not so great idea.

#writing tumblr #book tumblr #my book #writing advice #writing ideas #story evolution

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mercadosadaf · 5 years

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Swimming The 23km Kvarken Strait For The First Time

This week on the blog we have a special story from Lennart Flygare, a Swim Smooth follower who used our coaching to set a world first - swimming the Kvarken Strait from Finland to Sweden! This super-tough swim has never been completed before but that didn't stop Lennart and two friends believing it could be done. Our take on this is that even if you're not a super-fast swimmer yourself, you shouldn't let that stop you taking on some big challenges yourself. Research, plan and prepare well (including appropriate safety cover) and there's nothing to stop you achieving something amazing like Lennart, Pavio and Tore. Congrats guys on your special achievement!

Before and after - tired but exhilarated!

Lennart takes up the story:

It was at 7.30 pm with 3km to go when the ice-cold head-on current working against us set in. That was when for the first time I started to doubt if we would make it.

But let's start from the beginning. Some four years ago at the age of 53 I took up triathlon. I had suffered bilateral frozen shoulders and an injured knee and realised I couldn't just run in the woods for training. Variation was needed. As almost all beginner triathletes I dreaded the swim - only being able to swim breast stroke without any clue how to swim crawl for more than 15 meters. After a few months of struggling in the pool I finally got the hang of front crawl and then progression was fast for a year. Then it all levelled out, I just didn't get anywhere with my swimming despite 3 weekly swim sessions. Yes, I know, it is a common tale… However, one day one of my triathlon friends Anna Jonsson who had been to Gothenburg and trained under Swim Smooth Coach Anna-Karin Lundin gave me a book, which she thought would suit me. And so it did, the book of course being The Swim Smooth Book. Suddenly everything fell into place about my swimming. Identifying myself as a slim Arnie I soon found ways to work on my technique in a more structured manner. I didn't swim more but my sessions became structured with a set aim every time. I skimmed Youtube for the Swim Smooth videos and also bought the training plan for Olympic/Middle Distance Level 1 and started to follow it. Suddenly swimming become my favourite discipline and I longed for every swim session. That first summer I entered my first Ironman in Copenhagen. Stepping out of the water at 1:16 I soon realised that swimming had changed from my weak spot to my real strength in triathlon. Since then I have continued to use the training plan. I am still a mediocre swimmer with a CSS of 1:55/100m* but my stamina and endurance have grown each season. I live in Sweden, in the city of Umeå by the coastline of the Gulf of Bothnia. At our latitude, 63° North, Sweden and Finland is separated by a strait named “Kvarken”. Although only 23km wide at its narrowest point no one had ever succeeded to cross it swimming although several attempts had been made. Freezing cold water, strong currents and windy conditions had stopped every endeavour even from some pretty good swimmers. Nevertheless, after one of our swim sessions in the pool last winter me and two friends came to chat about it and decided we should give it a try. I think the others soon forgot our chat but I could not stop thinking seriously about it. I even bought a new Huub Archimedes wetsuit with the crossing of Kvarken in mind. This year we had an exceptionally warm summer and I spent lots of time studying the weather forecast, and chart of currents and water temperatures. Every day it seemed the wind was too strong and the waves to high due to strong sea breeze in the strait. Finally, my friend Per Edlund and I decided to try a night swim on the 18th July in search for calm waters. As we slipped into the water at 10pm we knew that this was going to be tough. The charts had said 17 °C in the water but it was more like 12-13 °C and surely enough, as the sun set below the horizon the cold soon creeped through our bones. After 2½ hours and just 5½km due to a current working against us, we realised this was not going to work and so we had to abandon our try. We understood that the next attempt had to be daytime although good weather usually results in a strong sea breeze. Per went away on vacation and in an ironic twist of fate the weather report forecasted perfect conditions 7 hours before Per was to return. So, with much hesitation and sadness we had to leave Per at bay and set out for the next try, this time with Pavio Grzelewski and Tore Klingberg in the swim-team. We decided to start in Finland and swim towards Sweden in order to match the predicted wind and currents. During the night, there was a strong wind force 6-7 and as we set out for Finland in the boat in the morning, the waves in the straight were still at a considerable height. The waves settled quickly however and by the time we reached Vallasaaret in Finland the conditions were close to perfect. Sunny and 18-19 °C in the water and a south-easterly wind force 1-2. We set out at 9.30 AM. The first hour we clocked almost 3½km on the GPS without much effort, probably due to a good tail-current. We took turns to stay in the lead ½ an hour at a time with the two others enjoying the wake of the lead swimmer. Soon the initial excitement wore off, the distance gained dropping to the expected levels of around 2½ km/hour and it all became a matter of keeping the pace, concentration on breathing and holding the course direction.

Beautiful conditions 1 hour into the swim

Erik and Urban in the support-boat stayed ahead of us directing us to the finish at Holmön in Sweden. At around noon the sea breeze started to set in but as it was from the left side and just a tiny bit from behind we thought we could manage as long as it did not get too strong. However, as the sea breeze built up to force 4, Pavio became seriously seasick and I was not feeling too good myself. Rye sandwiches and Coca-Cola from our supply vessel combined with a decreasing wind got us through though. It was not until afterwards that Pavio admitted he was seconds from giving up right there and then! After 5 hours, we were exactly halfway according to our calculations having swam some 12½ km, the extra km due to our slithering course. Apart from some neck chafing that had to be covered with duct tape, we still felt good and as the wind died out everything went as planned. We were out of sight of land, minutes became hours, swim strokes became kilometres and after 8 hours, we began to see the Swedish coastline. It didn't get much closer though and after 9½ hours and 22 km on the GPS I asked our friends in the boat how much was left, anticipating their answer to be 1-1½km. When the reply was 5½km we were not too happy realising we had forgot to calculate for our inability to swim a straight course topped off with a slight head-current. Still, the weather was nice and we were still in a good mood so this should be all right as long as we could cross the shipping channel safely. We were lucky and managed to cross just between two big freighters without having to stop. By now the coastline started to come closer but the sun was getting near the horizon. Remembering our try from the week before I desperately wanted to finish before the sun set. That was the moment when we came into the freezing head current and I thought: "No - this is not happening. We have not´ swam more than 23 km just to give up with the finish in sight!". Tore was totally exhausted by then, battling with cramps in his calves, and I secretly decided to take his turns in the lead should it come to that. Pavio had however made a remarkable recovery after his seasickness and made good turns at the front. I could slowly feel my limbs getting heavier and stiffer but as the coastline started to come nearer with every stroke our spirits lifted.

25km done - and spirits still high

Just 2km to go!

With 2km to go, we suddenly heard some cheering and there was Per with our good friend Anders on jet skis greeting us. What a nice surprise! Their support was so welcome and with a final effort, we pushed through the last km to arrive at Holmön 12 hours and 2 minutes after the start.

The finish! Watch it here: https://vimeo.com/297083073

As we climbed out of the water on pebbles and rocks, the whole world kept rocking, the way it does for ocean sailors coming ashore. I guess the feeling of relief even overwhelmed our joy to have made it! So, what were our experiences of long open water swims like this:

• Preparation is everything. Follow the weather reports closely and never cheat on safety. We had orange swim buoy's attached to us and all swimmers were connected to each other with long rubber cords, just like the ones used in swim-run events. The service-boat always stayed within 100 meters of the swimmers. • With time you will get cold. We used neoprene swimcaps, as well as neoprene swimgloves and socks. I also had a thin woollen t-shirt under my wetsuit acting as insulation. Still our body temperature dropped fast in the last hour. • Don't start out too fast. It is just like the swim sessions in the pool. One really needs to hold back in the speed from the start. Fatigue will come for sure anyhow. Think a Red Mist Session x-plenty! • Train for endurance, not speed. I have personally found the Swim Smooth training plans for triathletes ideal in this respect. • Finally, if someone in the team gets seasick – put them to the back of the pack. 😉

Lennart Flygare “Swim Smooth Prospect” Umeå, Sweden

* Actually that's a perfectly respectable CSS pace. Nothing to be ashamed of Lennart!

from Sports http://www.feelforthewater.com/2018/10/swimming-kvarken-strait-for-first-time.html via http://www.rssmix.com/

#sports

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judgeredward · 7 years

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Time Sink

For many, the idea of the countryside can mean many things. It may well mean the smell of the sea in the distance, the occasional chirp of a bird in the early morning, or perhaps the simple ways in which someone would live their lives. There was little to no complications of the city, and there was never that sense of not knowing who the person next to you on the bus was. For many, this kind of idea may well prove terrifying, but for some, the idea of finally fitting into somewhere that they would recognise a stranger out on the street was quite the exciting new prospect.

This was especially true of the new student of the coastal town of Aberystwyth, a young man by the name of William Rivers. Someone who had spent his whole life in Cardiff, he now found himself, alongside his family, travelling upward through the middle of Wales and passing through the small town of Aberaeron. A coastal town like the university he was heading towards, William and his family had stopped in Aberaeron mostly to kill some time before continuing on north. After having parked up, he jumped out of the car and saw his father leave his own, with his mother soon appearing on the other side.

“Christ, it’s freezing!” said William’s mother, casting her eyes one way to the other in an attempt to see everything. Her arms rubbed back and forth along one another, barely helping herself to warm up from the rather brisk breeze coming up from the sea.

“Well, it is the sea,” said her husband, pulling out a jacket from the back seat of his car. “Why’d you think half of William’s stuff is winter stuff?”

William himself was pretty quiet generally, and not one to speak out loud all that much. Some likened him to a ghost, as if appearing out of nowhere almost constantly, when in truth he had been there for some time. He just didn’t like talking. His eyes travelled upward and past him, following as a seagull flew past him and cawing in its flight. It went past the car park and then upward over the green hills, presumably over a bunch of fields that lay beyond the top. It was only a call from his mother to join them that William was snapped out of his daydream, and quickly caught up with the pair.

The first thing that William had noticed as they left the car park was the smell of salt in the air. Then as the young man continued to observe and walking through the town, he noticed the number of small boats that were situated inside what looked like an old harbour. The harbour itself felt as if it was down at the very bottom of the town, which was almost true. With a bridge road nearby, it looked as if the bridge was the edge of town, and that that road led further south into Wales. That very bridge was where William and his parents now stood, looking out over the harbour and the river behind them, joining up onto the water of the harbour. William could tell by the slightly crumbled walls and large stone architecture that was dotted about the place that the harbour and, in turn the town itself, was remarkably old. Even the church that they had walked past, with its greyish-brown brickwork and old, dulled glass windows, screamed to William that he was walking in a really old, and really boring, seaside town.

Out of curiosity later in the day, William had taken it to himself to gander online about the town and the port, and found that his assumptions were correct. The harbour itself used to be an old port, and in fact one of the more important ones throughout Wales and during its prime of trading. While it hadn’t been as busy as Port Talbot to the south of the country, it was a fundamental port in the Welsh industry.

“Do you know much about this place?” asked William’s mother then, directing her question to her husband. William’s father shook his head in response, but did have his phone out and was beginning to take pictures of the many seaside views he could get from the town.

“It is pretty though,” he answered. “And really old looking.”

“Seems like the harbour’s still being used,” William said then, pointing out towards the numerous ships that were anchored down at the bottom of the town. “Although if there’s any fishing business around here is beyond me.”

His mother and father walked down a small path, taking caution to take their steps slowly as to not fall on the wet mud underfoot, before they came up onto a wooden bridge. This bridge extended over the water, joining up onto a concrete walkway where a couple more boats were anchored and roped up. William however remained at the foot of the bridge, looking out back to the stone bridge and the river underneath. He watched as a small child spat down from the bridge down to the water, and with a slightly amused smirk his eyes followed the white bubbles as it flowed down the current, then down underneath the wooden bridge and out of sight. He looked back up to the bridge and chuckled when he saw that same child was being scolded by his mother for presumably spitting into the river. Then, as if to spite the mother, William leaned over the side of the bridge and spat down himself. The saliva splashed down with a resounding thunk, before it flowed down into the rest of the water in the harbour.

Eventually, William caught his parents up, who were both looking down past the edge of the concrete walkway. He approached them from the side, then looked down to see what on earth was giving them such an incredible interest. “…what on earth is that?” William questioned then, genuinely sounding confused. “Is that a van converted into a boat?”

That question was answered with a shocked gasp and a shushing by his mother, but William had pretty much hit the nail on the head in regards to the boat’s looks. To say it looked like a sorry state of a boat would have been putting it generously, what with how tattered and peeled the blue paint of the boat was like. The floorboards of the boat, which barely reached three metres in length, were almost rotten and riddled with holes, and what wasn’t peeled away, the blue was patched with other white splotches that William himself would rather not have to repeat out loud.

“Well, whatever it is,” William’s father said, his arm resting around his wife’s waist and with an amused grin on his lips, “it is, without a doubt, a rather horrible fishing boat.”

“Don’t say that!” William’s mother looked remarkably annoyed with her husband’s remark, as if she was ashamed he had even said such a thing.

“Mam, it’s got a bloody rowing boat behind it,” William added dejectedly, his hand moving to the side to emphasise that the tiny blue boat did indeed have a rowing boat behind it, somehow even smaller than the one in front, and looking just as shabby and dreadful as its bigger brother. “It’s crap, let’s be honest here.”

His mother was going to argue once more, but even she could not disagree on the awful state the pair of boats were in. Her raised hand slumped down to her side, and a small moan of defeat came from her that made both William and the father wink at the other in victory.

It was at that moment that a small growl sounded from William’s stomach. He looked down in slight confusion, then sighed upon realising that he was indeed rather hungry. Seemingly his father heard the growl as well, for his head quickly began going back and forth. “What’re you looking for?” William asked, just as he began staring out into the harbour and sniffing the strong scent of salt in the air.

“Some place to eat,” his father answered. “I wouldn’t mind something quick and simple.”

“Why, how long do we have left ’til we need to shoot off?”

His father looked down at the large metal watch on his left wrist to check. “Er… about another hour. Ish.”

William pointed off towards a large building behind them at that. “How about that one?” he asked then.

The building itself was situated on the corner of the concrete walkway, where it joined back up with the main road that would go on to lead back towards the stone bridge, and then back into the town the other way. Although there was a rather large open covering with the building’s name placed on the front in white, ‘The Cellar’, the most obvious and striking aspect of the building was indeed its colour.

“It’s… well. It’s certainly bright,” said William’s mother.

“It’s pink, dear,” William’s father added. “Bright is one way to put it…”

It was indeed very pink, and white as well, but for the most part the whole building was a sickly colour of pink. But it was either that building or the nearby chip shop that sold ‘honey ice cream’, and William felt more in the mood for something warm than cold. So with that in mind, the three walked inside of the small pub, and was greeted rather politely by a middle-aged man dressed in black trousers and shirt, with the logo on his breast pocket. It seemed pretty quiet inside, with only an old couple in the back and two twenty-something year old males sitting opposite each other.

The interior itself was pretty simple, with dark brown polished floorboards and around fifteen tables situated throughout the small restaurant (as it so claimed on the banner outside), with each seat already with its own set of cutlery. William doubted that the place itself got a whole lot of business, but at least the way the building and the staff treated its customers were pleasant enough.

William and his family sat themselves down, going through the menu that had been handed to them and quickly chose out their individual meals. While waiting, William’s mind and eyes wandered, staring back out through the nearby window and then out into the harbour beyond. He could see the building that was selling the ‘honey ice cream’ on the other side of the harbour, and could not help but smirk a little as a result.

“You ever tried honey ice cream?” he heard being asked then. He realised the question was being sounded by one of the two males he had seen sitting down as he walked into the restaurant.

“No, mate,” answered the other man. “Sounds bloody awful.”

“‘Honey ice cream. It tastes as bad as the town itself feels like.’”

“Another line to add?” asked the other male. “Why did we even come here for a research project again?”

“It was either this or Borth,” answered the first.

“…fair point.”

William’s mother seemed to have heard the conversation behind her and was obviously rather disapproving by the two men’s words. “They don’t like honey ice cream?” she asked out loud, perhaps a little louder than she should have. “What is wrong with people these days?”

William hung his head down in embarrassment as his parents launched into a pathetically stupid discussion about ice cream and talking about which flavour was the best, and had continued to argue about it when their meals had arrived. By the time the three had finished their food, they were the only ones left in the restaurant. His father went off to the bar to go and pay for the meal, leaving his mother and himself to pull on their jackets once more. Soon enough, they had gone off back towards the harbour, then up through the town and on to the car park.

In a nutshell, the town was relatively quaint and simple, or at least that was how William described it later when he was asked by friends. However, it felt so much like any other seaside town that it just didn’t seem even remotely special or exciting. But at least the people were creative. They had to be, otherwise a boat made from a van would never have stuck in William’s head all that time.

#judger's writing #writing #long post #my writing #prose

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rumowrites · 5 years

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Talents, Part 5

Part one here AO3 here

Runaan visited the shop more and more often after that to see Tinker work. He was fascinated by the way the other was completely focused on whatever he was doing and always startled a little when disturbed. Sometimes he ended up standing in the doorway with no idea how he got there and ended up buying some whetstones to not make a complete fool of himself. He also saw Tinker a few times watching their evening training whenever they closed the shop early. On those days the other elf mostly waited for him to finish in order to demonstrate a new spell or potion he was working on incorporating in his crafts. Runaan was always glad for the diversion the talkative elf brought him and enjoyed listening to him for hours.

Whenever he is away on assignment, he is sure to keep the now numerous bracelets safely tucked under his right bracer. Until now, he only had to use them twice and Tinker always re-enchanted them once he was back.

He was nineteen now and had his own command on most missions. The majority of elves regarded him with a mix of awe and respect, however, he still felt like a child compared to the other soldiers of the squadron. And he kind of was, the next youngest elf had just turned twenty-three and was only with the group for a few months.

Exhaustion filled his bones when he led his group back through the gates of their village, bells announcing their arrival. This mission had been particularly stressful on his part. One of their scouts broke her leg on their way out and Runaan had to use three of Tinker’s healing spells to get her moving again. But the worst part wasn’t the mission itself, it had been their target. A kid, only twelve years old at most but already king of one of the human kingdoms. In his mind, he knew the child had made some terrible decisions, resulting in numerous deaths on either side but he couldn’t get the image of those cold and dead eyes staring up at him.

He had been their leader, it was his duty to carry most of the weight but today he wasn’t sure he was able to.

The sight of a familiar figure at the far end of the crowd gave him new hope. Once the official report was over and done with, Runaan quickly vanished in the crowd before somebody could try and talk to him.

“I’m glad you all got back save.” Was the first thing he heard upon slipping around a dark corner to hide him from view. It startled him a little that Tinker apparently knew how to sneak up on him with ease but soon, his stance relaxed visibly. “I’m glad to be back. Did something happen while we were gone?” The smaller elf shook his head “Not really, you were only gone for a few days. Although I have now officially ended my apprenticeship and am proud to call myself a blacksmith.” He showed Runaan an intricate metal pendant that classified him as smith and jewellery maker. “Tinker that is great!” he praised giving the other a brief hug. It was nice to be back. Really nice. “I would ask you to spend the evening together but we have a lot to do in the workshop and I probably have to work until the early hours today.” Runaan felt a slight sting of disappointment but nodded, still keeping the smile glued to his face “No problem, I will be here for a while either way. Training the new recruits so maybe the next days?” The prospect of seeing him for a longer time clearly pleased the short haired elf “Okay, well then, Varou is already waiting for me to get back, See you soon!” Runaan raised his arm to wave at the already parting figure “See you soon.”

He managed to get home without running into anybody and counted that as a personal win. The last thing he could use right now was someone congratulating him on killing a child.

Even though he felt like he couldn’t possibly hold his eyes open much longer, sleep wouldn’t come. So he dressed in a light shirt with wide pants and went down to train. He did that until his arms were shaking but still, he found no rest. After an hour of fruitless meditation on the living room floor, he decided to go for a run in the woods. It wasn’t that late after all and a little bit of sunlight still illuminated the trees. He ran wide circles around the house until his legs finally gave out and dragged himself back inside. The exhaustion induced sleep he falls in just meters from the front door does nothing to regain any of his strength. He wakes every few hours from a nightmare and when he doesn’t Runaan sees the boy they killed, begging him to spare his life.

Luckily he had no official training until the recruits arrive in a week and a half and was therefore able to hide in the house for most of the day. In the evening, the whole charade started again, until he finally gave in, took his swords and bow and headed out into the night to train. The sun was dawning when he climbed back into the house through a window. He doesn’t know why he didn’t take the door instead. By now, he was fully lost to sleep deprivation and a certain human child that keept ghosting through his mind. Runaan passeed the day in a state that was equally awake and asleep on the seating area of the kitchen because his bed was just too far away.

He had to open the door once for the merchant who is delivering food for him and the surrounding houses but otherwise stayed inside. When he caught his reflection in the mirror next to the door, a stranger was staring back at him through tired, dark rimmed eyes.

Runaan decided he finally had to get a grip and took a cold shower, fixing his hair like Tinker had done that one time in the woods and made himself something to eat. Everything took painfully long because he’s always about to pass out but at the end of the day, he was clean and in fresh clothes and felt less like a complete failure.

He told himself over and over that it had to be done until he believes it and even managed to get some scarce hours of undisturbed sleep at night. He’s up again early the next morning, going through the training routine he invented for his days off.

Afterwards, he dressed casually in a dark blue shirt that he knows contrasts his eyes perfectly with a form fitting black leather vest and headed out to the shop. It's because after his last few assignments he really needs new arrowheads and not because of the handsome elf working there. At least that’s what he told himself upon entering the cramped workshop.

Tinker was immediately there to greet him, leaving the pendant he'd been working on behind. “Do you have some of the Arrowheads at hand I got here the last time? The last missions proved to be very projectile-consuming.” The short haired elf nodded and began to look into different boxes until he found what he’d been looking for “Ah, here!” he exclaims holding up a small carton that is somehow labelled ‘R. Arrows’ “We still have about- “ Tink paused for a moment, staring into the box intently “-twelve! Twelve heads left. How many do you need?”

Runaan ends up buying all of them because he does really need new Arrows and they are without doubt the best he ever used. He told Tinker as much who then blushes in the most adorable way imaginable. With newfound energy, he conducted the rest of his shopping, mostly consisting of vegetables and new clothes. A few non-combat-uniform outfits in his wardrobe would certainly do him good. Especially when a little bird (Varou) had given him a hint that Tink loved the form-fitting sleeveless shirts he sometimes sported under his general Armour.

Slowly, the days get colder and they finish training earlier because of the lack of light. Soon, they would have to go in one of the large halls specifically built for winter training. One day after a particular ruff session, Runaan sees a familiar figure leaning against the stone wall next to the gate, waiting for him. He can’t help but smile at the sight of the other elf whose face is almost completely covered by a huge brown scarf. “Hey” he greets, tucking his coat a little closer around his body. He is still warm from the running they did in the last hour but the warmth would quickly fade.

“Hello” Tinker replied, holding out a package to him “I know you usually use a bow or your dual swords but can never really take the bow with you because it takes up too much space so I tried something new.” He gestured for him to open it and studied his reaction carefully “I mean it’s not completely done, there is still some fine-tuning to do but-“ he rambled on only to be stopped by Runaan’s breathy “It’s beautiful. I- I can’t accept that.” Inside the thick cotton cloth were two swords that were made to connect in the middle forming a full-sized war-bow. “You can and you will.” Tink reached for the two blades snapping them together in the middle. The string just seemed to appear out of nowhere once the handles were joined. At Runaan’s questioning glance, he pointed at several moonstones that were enclosed in the hilts “It’s enchanted. The string will automatically attach once the pieces are joined.”

“Thank you, Tink. Really, this is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” A grin appeared on his face at the nickname “Well I thought you could train with it a bit and then give me a feedback so I can adjust it until they work like you need them to.”

When Runaan entered the shop a few days later to hand over the weapon for correction, Tinker found a little note attached to it. He immediate opened the folded paper and stared at the text in utter disbelief.

“The handles could use a little more weight to balance the blades and you can increase the draw strength of the bow a good six pounds. Thank you. Dinner at my place tomorrow, I will pick you up from the shop.”

He read the few lines over and over, trying to process the information. Apparently he hadn’t answered a couple times when Varou called him because the old elf was suddenly standing in front of him, looking concerned. “Are you ok?” Tink only nodded, slowly setting the note aside. “Yeah, more than ok actually.” He couldn’t help the grin that threatened to split his face.

“So did the coward finally ask you out?” his teacher was never one to be subtle but he still startled for a second. “What?” the word was out before he regained his composure, looking at Varou with a puzzled expression. “The young Assassin you fancy, Runaan, did he finally ask you out for moon’s sake?” It took him a couple of seconds to fully understand what the smith wanted from him “I- I don’t know? I think so? Maybe?” Tink helplessly clasped his hands in front of his face. With a fond sigh, Varou reached for the note “Here let me see.”

“And?” Tinker asked with a feeling between joy and anxiety. “He’s definitely asking you out. Finally might I add? Seeing you two dance around each other for the last three years was equally cute as it was pathetic.” He handed the note back before continuing “Although I must say he was the most entertaining customer I had those past years. By now he must be in possession of enough whetstones to last him at least a lifetime.”

Tink furrowed his brow “What do you mean?” the question resulted in full out laughter from the old elf “What I mean, my boy, is that this stone cold assassin walked in here a couple of times without realizing and bought whetstones so that he wouldn’t have to admit that he came to see you. Also, all those swords that needed fixing? The squadron never in my whole life had that great of a problem keeping their blades intact as the time you have been working here.”

“You think so?” he hated how hopeful he sounded but deep down he had always known that something connected them. Varou rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in in gentle encouragement “Yes, I do.”

When Tinker was leaving the shop that night, the stocky smith called him back in “You might want to pack some spare clothes tomorrow.” He winked before ushering him out again.

He barley slept that night, thinking about the invitation over and over. It both, filled him with anticipation and anxiety to go on a real date. What should he wear? Should he bring flowers? What if this wasn’t a date and he made a complete fool of himself? What if it was a date and he made a complete fool of himself?

Runaan on the other hand was completely calm. Or that was what he told himself as he cleaned the whole house for the second time that night and prepared way too much food for two people. He even arranged some flowers around the general kitchen and living area to give the room less of an armoury-mixed-with-a-training-room look.

He spent most of the night training to get the agitation out of his bones and changed his outfit four times before finally falling asleep mere two hours before he had to get up again.

Training that day was humiliating to say the least. Kourou who never managed to hit him anymore even on a good day had him on his back more times he cared to count. Runaan simply couldn’t help but thinking about Tinker, brushing the now slightly too long bangs out of his face. His partner regarded him with curious looks when he actually changed after training. Something he almost never did. Usually, he just threw the coat that accompanied his uniform over his shoulders and went straight home.

Today however, he changes together with the other assassins, ignoring the appreciative glances from some of his fellow soldiers and pulls a fresh shirt from his bag. It’s dark blue and sleeveless, hugging his figure perfectly. Runaan layers it with a black leather vest that accentuates his broad shoulders and slim waist before throwing the long dark green uniform coat over his shoulders. He silently escaped before Kourou could riddle him with questions of where he was going and whether he went on a date or not.

Tinker was still busy when he arrived so he leaned against the door, watching the other work on several intricate necklaces. It took the short haired elf almost ten minutes before he noticed his presence as focused as he was. The blush that appeared on the other’s face afterwards was way to adorable to not smile in response.

Tink barley registered the little bell that announced a new customer as he shaped a moonstone pendant. It was a custom order and he had spent the last three hours figuring out how to attach it to a necklace without disturbing the geometric pattern. When he looked up from his work a few minutes later, he was greeted with the sight of Runaan intently watching him. The Assassin was dressed in his winter uniform, a sight for the gods really. His hands were pushed into the deep pockets of the fur trimmed coat and Tink found his eyes sparkled even more than usually. He quickly focused back on his work, feeling the blush appear on his face. “I’m almost done here.” The short haired elf said while tweaking the last metal parts into place, checking if everything ended up where it should be. “I’m in no hurry. Take your time.” In contrary to his usually stern tone, Runaan’s voice was now filled with warmth and slightly hoarse from hours of shouting commands at the new recruits.

Varou appeared in the doorway shortly after his arrival, gesturing for Runaan to follow him back in the forge. “I could use a hand here, Tinker can pack his things while you help me.” He wasn’t quite sure what the other was going for but obediently followed the old elf, shedding his coat and placing it on one of the unused worktables.

As soon as they reached the gleaming fire, Varou pushed a pair of thick leather gloves in his hands followed by a piece of dark yellow glowing iron. “Hold this would you?” he asked, gesturing for the anvil. Runaan placed the metal on the flat iron surface and watched as the old smith formed it this way and that until an axe blade was visible. “You are here to pick up Tinker?” the question was both parts surprising and expected. “Yes.” There was no point in lying to the elf. “If you hurt him…” he began, hitting the metal with a little more force than just moments ago before placing it back in the fire. “I would never.” Runaan held the other’s gaze until the smith finally nodded “Glad we understand each other.”

Chapter 6

#runaan #the dragon prince #tdp #runaan x tinker #nacklace elf #fanfiction #rayla #gren #amaya #moonshadow elves #moonshadow assassins #talents #tdpfic

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