#I WAS LITERALLY TELLING MYSELF 'watch her drop she's married in like the second text' and was SHOCKED this did not happen!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

j-j-ehlby-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Almost (c.e.)

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Word Count: ~5.9k

Summary: You and Chris were set up on a blind date by your mutual friends. Sparks flew, but you never heard from him again. Two years later, you come face-to-face with him once more for their friends wedding.

Warnings: Some angst, swearing, not much else

A/N: This is a mixture of the movie “Life as We Know It” (mmm Daddy Josh Duhamel 🤤), a dating experience I had, and one scene from One Tree Hill. Enjoy.

My Masterlist

Two years ago…

My heart is pounding all the way to my ears. My hands are shaking under the table. My knee bounces uncontrollably as I wait.

I knew this was a bad idea. Why did I let her convince me to do this?

“You haven’t had a boyfriend for as long as I’ve known you.” My best friend so pointedly mentioned when we were out to lunch last week.

“What’s wrong with that?” I counter.

“I’ve known you for three and a half years.” She deadpans. Even without looking at her, I know she has her eyebrow raised at me and her lips are pursed.

“Your point?” I know she thinks my serious lack of companionship these past few years is wearing on me, but it’s been quite the opposite. Not being attached is freeing. I can do what I want when I want; I don’t have anyone to answer to. If I want to sleep until 3 on a Saturday, I’m going to do it. If I don’t want to socialize with anyone, I won’t. If I want to take a spontaneous road trip, I’m going to do it. My life is my own and that’s how I like it.

“I want my best friend to have someone to experience life with.”

My shoulders dropped, sighing in defeat. There was no way I was getting out of this conversation.

“I want you to be as happy as I am.” I see the love in her eyes as her mind goes to her boyfriend and their new relationship. They’ve only been together for a few months, but I know that this is it for her. She’s a smitten kitten and he is equally as infatuated with her. They’re sickeningly cute. “Which is why I think you need to meet one of his friends-”

“Lemme stop you right there,” I interrupt her, “I hate blind dates.”

“You’ve never been on one.”

“And there’s a reason for that.” She rolled her eyes at me. “They’re cliché, they’re awkward for both parties, and they never amount to anything, thus being a total waste of time.”

She sighed, “Ever the skeptic.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Regardless,” she continues, “I think you’ll really like this guy. He’s already expressed interest in you.”

Like that makes everything better. “Great so now I have to live up to his impossible expectations of me when I know absolutely nothing about him.” As if the idea of a blind date wasn’t bad enough, now it’s only a semi-blind date. There’s no doubt in my mind that she has hyped me up impossibly high, that’s what a best friend is for. However, when your confidence level is next to none and already skeptical of the pending meeting, there’s no way he’ll like who I am in reality.

“I can tell you anything you want to know about him.” She is bargaining with me. She really wants me to meet this guy. She wouldn’t be trying this hard if she didn’t believe we would hit it off.

“Well is he nice?” This was the only real question I had. If he isn’t kind then there’s really no future.

“Incredibly!” She continues to tell me of the many things he has done for a charity he started a few years ago and slowly but surely she was starting to convince me. If he was that generous then he has to have a good heart and therefore is a good man.

How bad could it be?

I check my phone, glancing at the time. Great, he’s late. That can’t be a good start.

Numerous reasons why popped into my head.

Reason one: he saw me and bolted.

Reason two: he got into an accident on the way here and he could be in the hospital.

Reason three: he changed his mind and decided to stand me up.

More and more played through my head as I sipped my drink.

By the time I was on my second drink, I was convinced he wasn’t showing up. I knew this was a ridiculous idea. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I never should have listened to her.

I chugged the rest of my drink followed by some water before standing up to leave some cash. I was slightly humiliated for actually thinking this would be any different than all of my expectations.

My shoulder rammed into another as I turned to leave.

“Oh my, God, I’m so sorry!” A hand steadied me, gently grabbing the shoulder he ran into. “Are you okay?”

“My already small ego is a little bruised, but I think I’ll live.” I looked up to meet my assaulter’s eyes and immediately I froze.

Holy shit, it’s Chris Evans.

His piercing blue eyes were staring right at me, his concern was directed towards me. In all of his charming, ray of sunshine, bearded glory, he was here.

“I’m so sorry that I’m late. Traffic was insane over the bridge. I would have called but I don’t have your number.” He half-smirked but not in a cocky way. I’d seen him do it in interviews before. He could have come up with a lame excuse, but somehow I knew he was telling the truth.

“No, it’s okay. I understand completely.”

He sighed in relief, his gorgeous and perfect smile taking over his features. He looked down at the table and it disappeared. “Were you leaving?”

“Uh,” I stammered, “I was because I thought I was being stood up.”

“I feel awful. Please let me make it up to you. Let’s sit down, have a nice dinner, and get to know each other.”

I hesitate, now even more nervous than I was before.

As if sensing my hesitation, he decided to sweeten the pot a bit to persuade me, “We can even get dessert.”

I chuckle at his attempt. That’ll do it though. I sit back down with him following suit, finally starting our date.

We talked about everything. Anything and everything. No topic was off limits. Hours went by but it felt like minutes. We didn’t even know how long we’d been there until our waiter came to tell us that the restaurant was closed. We left and walked around the city until the night sky was giving way to the morning. He accompanied me back to my car, gave me the best hug I’ve ever received and a kiss on the cheek, promising we’ll get together again soon, and opening and closing my car door for me. I drove away with the biggest smile on my face and literal butterflies in my stomach. That was the best date I’d ever been on.

When I made it back to my apartment with the early morning rays peeking through my shades, I had a text message waiting for me from him. Just a simple good night, he had had an amazing time, and he couldn’t wait to see me again.

I fell asleep, hopeful. Hopeful that I would see him again, that this could maybe go somewhere. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it was hard not to. I hadn’t felt this way in an exceptionally long time. I haven’t been on this good of a date in equally as long. I can’t wait to see him again…

Present day...

I finally pull into the parking lot after an hour stuck in traffic. My 12-hour day at work today has taken a lot out of me. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. Thankfully though, my 2-week-long vacation starts tomorrow. After that, I have fourteen days of no working, no getting up at the ass crack of dawn to be able to drive in miserable traffic, no dealing with difficult or boring co-workers. Just fourteen days of rest and relaxation, after the wedding of course.

My best friend and her fiancé are getting married on Saturday. I’ve watched them go through all of their highs and lows throughout the last few years and when he came to me telling me he planned on proposing, I couldn’t have been happier for them. He even asked me to secretly photograph the moment for her. She was more than surprised about everything.

Now their wedding is here and everyone couldn’t be more excited to celebrate them.

Tomorrow is their rehearsal dinner. The wedding party and their plus ones are all invited.

I walk into my apartment, immediately relieving myself from the confines of my shoes. A heavenly scent registers to me and I’m carried all the way to the kitchen. I see my sexy boyfriend standing at the stove with his back towards me.

“Hey babe,” he calls without turning around.

I hum, happily making my way towards him. I wrap my arms around his waist, placing a kiss on his back. “What is that unbelievable smell?”

He chuckles, vibrating through his chest. “Your favorite, of course.”

I hum again, “You spoil me, baby.”

He chuckles again, turning in my arms. His handsome face finally came into view. His gorgeous brown eyes look into mine as I get lost in his. For the past year, I’ve been the happiest I’ve been in a while. Since the day I met him, it was like everything fell into place. He’s sweet, ambitious, funny, kindhearted, passionate, and just overall the best man I had ever met. He makes me so happy…

Oh who am I kidding? He’s perfect. He is everything I ever wanted. If I made a list of all of the qualities I wanted in a husband, he would check off every single box.

But the feelings I have had for him over the last year are nothing compared to what I had in one night for him. I find myself wishing his eyes were bright blue instead of dark brown. I wish his arms were around me instead of the ones around me right now. The butterflies from that night have stayed dormant ever since.

I don’t know what happened after that night. I honestly thought we had a good time that night. Conversations flowed seamlessly. We made each other laugh so hard we had tears running down our faces. The physical connection was there- at first he had his arm around my shoulders as we walked around town, but as time went on he slowly moved lower around my waist, eventually intertwining our hands together until we arrived back at our cars. He even said that he wanted to see me again.

But I never heard from him again after that one text message. No call, no text, not even a message from my friend’s boyfriend. Nothing. I was disappointed beyond belief. I didn’t think he was that guy: the type to ditch someone without any explanation or goodbye. I thought I understood him to be a gentleman. Everything I had read about him pointed to him being one of the purest humans in the world. This was the opposite of all of that.

From that day on, I’ve loathed him. He gave me the perfect evening and then cut me off cold turkey from anything further. I have a three strike rule. His first: he was late. His second: he tricked me into liking him. His third: he lied to me. Three strikes and he’s out.

I have tried not to look back since. It’s not without its difficulties though since he’s literally everywhere. On magazine covers, in commercials, movie trailers, streaming services- he’s there. Why did he have to be such a successful actor? If he weren’t, it would make for forgetting him that much easier.

No closure. No answers. Nothing.

The rehearsal dinner went smoothly the next night which hopefully was foreshadowing for the big day itself.

A majority of us were standing around about to start when the doors loudly being opened drew everyone’s attention away from our milling about. A man stood in the middle of the doorway then strode in like he owned the place. The closer he got, the more the details of his face came into focus.

No. Freaking. Way.

I look toward my best friend. She looked like she wasn’t shocked he was late, but she knew he was coming. I creep up behind her and clear my throat. Instantly she cringed.

“Did you forget to tell me something?” I whisper to her.

She sends me an apologetic smile, “Well, I actually put off telling you ‘cause I didn’t know how you would react and then I meant to tell you last night but with the whole ‘I’m getting married in two days’ buzz took over and now the rehearsal is here-”

“Just please tell me I’m not walking in with him.” I beg.

She chuckles nervously before she escaped to go greet him with her fiancé.

I turn to her sister who is also one of my closest friends. “Did you know he was going to be a groomsman?”

The guilt written in her face tells me everything I need to know. “She made me promise not to tell you.”

I groan, “The loyalty level around here is staggeringly low.”

I head over to where my boyfriend is standing and take comfort in his arms before I have to deal with the man who broke my heart.

“Are you okay?” He asks a little confused by my actions.

I nod, “Just tired from last night.” He chuckles at the mention of the night before, squeezing me into his chest.

“Alright everyone! Time to get started.” The wedding coordinator beckons us all to the back entrance of the barn standing next to our corresponding wedding party member. I stand right in front of the Maid of Honor and Best Man. I kept my eyes forward focusing on anything but the guy who took his place next to me.

“It’s good to see you,” He murmurs to me over the instructions of the coordinator.

I scoff and roll my eyes. He has the nerve to say that to me after two years of silence. I imagined a million times what it would be like to see him again. I’d imagined a lot of screaming with possible hitting. Or I thought about the ever-effective, old fashioned silent treatment. He doesn’t deserve to know that our one night out together effected me so much and I’ve carried a rather large torch for him ever since. At the very moment, it will be the latter, but there’s no telling what tonight and tomorrow will bring.

“Now ladies, rest- don’t grab- your hand near the crook of his arm. Men, keep your arm at that angle with an open hand resting on your stomach- no fist. And don’t forget to smile- this is a happy day!” As quickly as he showed up, the coordinator was on to the bride and her father before either of us could register he was there.

I begrudgingly did as I was instructed, “resting” my hand on his bare forearm, holding a stand-in bouquet for the occasion in my other hand.

“Are you not going to talk to me?” He speaks again but I ignore him once more.

Thankfully that was when it was our turn to walk down the aisle. For the rest of the rehearsal, he didn’t get a chance to say anything else. As soon as we were done, I go straight for my boyfriend. I figured there’s no way he would approach me if I were with another man.

We all head to the restaurant afterwards to celebrate the last night before our friends begin their lives together as husband and wife. I keep my distance from Chris, always sticking close with my boyfriend.

The one moment I was alone was when I went to the bathroom. I thought for the few minutes I wouldn’t be in danger.

However I was wrong.

As soon as I step out an arm shot out in front of me. A very pale muscular arm.

“Are you seriously going to ignore me for the next two days?”

I duck under his arm fully planning on continuing what I set out to do.

“Y/N,” he grabs my arm, “will you please talk to me? What did I do to make you so mad at me?”

I whip around hopefully sending daggers his way. “Are you serious right now?”

“She finally speaks!” He exclaims.

“Because I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Like, I don’t think I heard you right.” All of the feelings I’ve been burying for two years were making their way up to the surface and I don’t think I can stop them. “We had a fantastic night. It was literally the best night of my life, it was the most comfortable with a guy that I had ever been. You made me laugh, you gave me butterflies, you helped me feel for the first time in years.” I try to swallow down the lump that was forming in my throat. “You told me you wanted to see me again. You made me excited for the future for once in my life… and then you took it away.”

With every second that passed, his expression got closer and closer to utter defeat: his shoulders slumped, his grip on my arm loosened, his jaw slowly unclenched, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You were late,” I hold up one finger, “You tricked me,” two fingers,” “You lied to me.” Three fingers were up and in front of his face for emphasis. “Three strikes and you’re out.”

I back away from him, having nothing more I wanted to say. As soon as I turned the corner, I felt liberated… for about five seconds. When that passed, devastation hit. For the last two years, I’ve held out hope- I tried not to- but I did, that maybe someday something could happen between us. That maybe, just maybe, we could pick up where we left off that night.

Now that the moment of confrontation has come and gone, I feel all the hope fade away. All of those possibilities I pictured have left the building. Being with him is no longer an option. I have my boyfriend who makes me happy, who gives me everything I could possibly want.

The rest of the night went on without another incident. Chris kept his distance. However, I could feel his eyes on me for every second that passed as we sat at the table. It was a relief when we finally left and could retreat back to our hotel rooms for the night. The bride and I got to stay in a suite that we’ll all be getting ready in in the morning. They wanted to uphold the “not seeing each other the night before the wedding,” even though they’ve lived with each other for a year and a half now.

On the wedding day, everything went according to plan. Everyone was on time to hair and make-up, pictures went flawlessly, the weather cooperated with everything, Chris didn’t attempt to talk to me at all- it was a perfect day to watch two people who love each other commit to the other for the rest of their lives.

But then came the reception. That’s when I knew apparently all bets would be off. The ceremony was over. Niceties would wear off as more and more alcohol is consumed. I was not looking forward to it.

We make our ridiculous entrances and take our seats at the head table. We eat then speeches were made. Lots of laughs were had as the Best Man dished on stories he had with the groom growing up, a few tears were shed at her sister’s after recounting the moment the bride knew he was the man of her dreams- overall I’d say they were a success.

Again, I felt his eyes on me, burning holes in the side of my head from the other side of the groom for the entire dining portion of the evening. I kept myself from glancing in his direction, instead focusing on the conversations with the bride’s sister next to me and my boyfriend who is across the way- anything not to meet his eyes.

Finally the DJ announces it was time for all to convene on the dancefloor after the specialty dances. I immediately see my boyfriend start to stand, knowing he’d been ready for this all night. I’d been looking forward to dancing with him all night as well, I even removed my shoes in anticipation. As I stand up, a hand is held out in front of me. I knew whose hand it was. I remember staring at it as he would rub his lips on our date. The strength of it as it intertwined with mine as we walked down the streets of our town, the safeness I felt as he squeezed it if he detected I was getting anxious around a group of people and I needed the reassurance. I knew that hand well, unfortunately.

“Dance with me?” He nearly whispers in my ear. I didn’t realize he was that close until I could feel said whisper on my neck. I contain the shiver that runs down my spine at how husky his voice is. God I’ve missed that…

No! I will not be enchanted by him again. He does not deserve me.

I exhale the breath I was holding, it comes out a lot harsher than I expected. “No, thank you.” I turn away from him, but his hand gently grabs my arm stopping me from going any further.

He whispers again, “He’s not good enough for you,” before walking away.

I’m frozen in place. I glare at his retreating back as he makes his way over to the bar. My mouth hangs open in disbelief. How dare he… How fucking dare he assume anything about me or my relationship. He doesn’t know anything about what our relationship is like. My boyfriend treats me so well, spoils me even though I know I don’t deserve it. He listens to me, he cares about me, and he makes me laugh until I cry- he’s everything I’ve wanted in a man. Chris is the one who had his chance and subsequently blew it. He has no right to judge or even comment on my relationship when he knows absolutely nothing about it.

I hurriedly make my way to my awaiting boyfriend and pull him onto the crowded dancefloor. “You okay?” He asks me, “Did he say something to upset you?”

“Nothing worth repeating.” All I wanted to do was forget about him and his irrelevant feelings towards my relationship…

…Except I couldn’t. His words rattled me. Does he see something I don’t? He told me on our date that he’s an excellent judge of character so he wouldn’t say something like that unless he got a bad feeling, right? Either that or he said it just to get under my skin and force me to talk to him. No matter the reason I hate him for it because my pride won’t let it stand.

I spot him leaning against the bar, staring directly at the two of us over the rim of his glass. His perfect eyebrow quirks up at the eye contact, that sets my blood to boiling. He thinks he’s so smug. I wish I could just slap that stupid hidden smirk right off his perfect face…

Following a few dances, I mutter something about him going to dance with the bride to my boyfriend before exiting the dancefloor. I rush out of the barn, away from the crowd needing some air from his suffocating gaze. I find a little lit area that’s perfect for pictures. There are rectangular hay bales set together as a makeshift U-shaped bench with some low watt bulbs strung up above between two poles. It would be serene if I weren’t already on edge.

After taking a few deep breaths, I finally feel like I can speak without yelling. “You had no right.”

I didn’t have to turn around to know he followed me out here. It’s exactly what I wanted him to do, just like it was his intention to get under my skin. As much as I wished to avoid this conversation it seems that we can’t go on without it. We may tear each other apart in the process, but this is my chance for closure. This is my only opportunity to get the answers I’ve been needing to move on for the past two years. Two years of wondering what went wrong after the most perfect date I’ve ever been on with an equally perfect man has been eating at my heart and mind. I hated always wondering “what if” or “what would I be doing right now if I were with him” especially when I started dating my boyfriend. I had no answers as to why those questions could not be. I thought with time I’d stop asking them, thinking I’d never see the man again. He’s a big movie star, why would he wonder about a woman he went on one date with?

As I expected, his deep baritone voice comes behind me, but his words do little to ease my nerves. In fact they set them off even more so than before. “I’m sorry.”

I scoff at his half-hearted apology, knowing he doesn’t mean it at all. “Oh bite me, Christopher.” I turn around to face him. God he looks even better out here. The subtle gold glow from the lights are complimenting his skin tone, they make his baby blues shine which just frustrates me more.

“Please, Y/N,-” He takes a step closer to me, but I won’t have that.

“No,” I take a step back keeping the needed distance between us for fear I may strangle him. “I don’t want to hear any of your bullshit excuses. You had no right to pass judgment on a relationship that you know absolutely nothing about.”

He slips his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “Oh, I’ve seen enough.”

“Really?” I jut my hip out, resting my hand on it. “In the two days you’ve been here, you think you’ve got us all figured out?”

“Yes,” he answers with conviction.

My shaking hands clench into fists, trying my damnedest not to lose control. I entangle them into my hair as best as I can without ruining the work the hairstylist did this morning before running them down my face. He has some nerve.

“We had one night. One night! One nearly perfect night together and suddenly that makes you an expert on what is good for me?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘an expert’-”

“I wouldn’t say anything!” I interrupt, “I never heard from you again. Now after two years, you come in here acting like you know anything about me or my relationship? Who do you think you are?”

“A man who made a mistake!” He snaps.

There was a long pause. I never expected to hear that from him. All these years I wanted to think the worst of him for leaving me hanging like that. He got my hopes up, thinking we may have a future together only for them to come crashing back down to Earth when he never contacted me again. I wondered and wondered if maybe I read the signals wrong. Maybe I took his flirting as more than it was. Maybe the small gestures like his arm around my shoulders, on the small of my back, or the hand holding were only him being friendly. I wracked my brain going over every single detail of the night to try and pinpoint a reason for him not to have called me afterwards. I found nothing, which was equally as frustrating.

“Alright, I made a mistake.” He moves to sit on one of the hay bales. He rests his elbows on his knees and buries his head in his hands, letting out a huge sigh. “God I wanted everything with you.”

Once again, I’m frozen by his words. He what? But that doesn’t make sense. His words and his actions don’t line up- how could that be?

He removes his hands from his face, staring at the grass. “After that night, I wanted it all. I wanted to settle down, get the house with a white picket fence in the suburbs, carry you through the threshold after our wedding day, bring our children home from the hospital, watch them grow until we’re old and gray. I wanted everything.”

My heart aches. All of that was exactly what I wanted, especially with him. I could feel the tears building behind my eyes, my heart breaking mourning the loss of what we could have had by now if he had only said something.

I also find my anger growing as well. If he felt all of that, why did he not contact me again? Why did he give me hope that our night out together could have been the start of something good and then taken it away just as quickly?

“But?” There had to be a “but” coming after his statement. Clearly something stopped him from pursuing the possibility of “us,” destroying any future we could have had.

He sighs, “but…” he finally looks up at me with more emotion in his eyes than I was expecting. There was contemplation, confusion, honesty, agony…

I look away. In an instant I knew what he was about to say. It makes complete sense. He was at the height of his career, shooting movie after movie all around the world for a majority of the year. How would he have had time to have a relationship mixed in with that? He couldn’t.

“Your career was more important,” I interject, “I get it. I do.” I couldn’t fault him for choosing work over someone he just met, no matter how much he claims to have liked me right off the bat. He was going to be busy. We probably wouldn’t have had a lot of time to see each other. It’s not like I could give up my career to follow him. Besides even if I could have, he wouldn’t want that. He said so himself. He wanted someone who was independent; who could do their own thing and not be enveloped in his crazy life.

He stands up and steps closer to me, “no, that wasn’t it. I promise you that wasn’t it.”

There’s that word. Promise. He promised we’d see each other again soon after our night together. But he broke that.

“Then what was it?” My voice cracks at the end. I can feel my reserves slipping the more he speaks. I didn’t realize how much I missed his voice until now. I haven’t seen any of the movies he’s been in the last few years. I have him and his hashtag blocked on all social media platforms so I don’t see anything of his on any of my timelines. My other friends think I don’t like him (only my best friend and her now husband know about our date). To hear it again brings back all of the good memories we made together in that short night and all of the emotions I’ve been holding back since. “I have been wracking my brain for years wondering what went wrong after that.”

“I got scared,” he finally admits the truth. “I got scared of how much I liked you and how much I wanted to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From me,” he casts his gaze down at his hands as he fidgets with them, “and my life. I didn’t want to subject you to the chaos that is my life. I know what my fans would do to you if we were in a relationship, I was trying to protect you from all of the ugly that being with me comes with.”

So that’s what he was afraid of? He was afraid our relationship would inevitably end exactly like his last one? His “fans” were horrible to her. They sent death threats to her and her family members, always commenting negatively on her social media pages all because she was dating him. I remember reading about it right after it happened. I knew that side of his fandom was toxic. But did I care? No. Did I think I couldn’t handle it? I honestly don’t know, but would I have been willing to deal with it for him? Yes. I would have given up anything to be with him. That’s precisely why he did what he did. He didn’t want me giving anything up for him because he knows I’d be giving up any semblance of privacy I had if I were in a public relationship with him.

If I had known these were the reasons why he ghosted me, I would have been broken hearted but I would have understood. Hell, I probably would have fallen more in love with him if I knew that, not fallen in loathe.

He continues, “I thought that if I never contacted you again, you could move on”- he clears his throat-“and find someone better than me who could give you the normal life you deserve. Which as much as I wish I couldn’t, I see that you have…” he pauses as if deciding whether he should keep speaking. When I don’t stop him, he does, “But I can’t help feeling like that could have been me.”

My slightly shaky hands cover his fidgeting ones. His hand moves until he’s intertwining our fingers together, palms touching. They fit perfectly together as if they were each other’s missing puzzle piece. His thumbs stroke mine sending warmth down my arms all the way down to my toes. The sparks I felt back then return with full force. He leans down, pressing his forehead against mine. My heart is beating out of my chest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t feel it in some way.

I feel my heart break in my chest. My lip quivers and the tears threaten to make themselves known. My only saving grace is the fact that he can’t see my face. I may lose it completely if he did.

His breath is coming out equally as shaky between us, he squeezes my hands as if he doesn’t want me to let go. Believe me, I don’t want to. I bring one of our interlocked hands up to my lips. I kiss the back of his hand because I can’t kiss him where I want to. I pull back just enough to see his beautiful baby blues that could have any woman in the world swoon. They were terribly bloodshot right now but that only made them more tragically breathtaking. I tear one of my hands out of his and bring it to his cheek. He leans into it, a tear drops into the crevices between the contact.

The barely above whisper that came out was all I could muster without having a total breakdown because he’s right. It could have been him. We could have been something great. We could have built a life together. We could have had it all. And it broke my heart into a million pieces knowing all of this could have been avoided if life had handed both of us different lives.

“It almost was.”

~*~

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kookiesjoonies · 5 years ago

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risk it — jjk | four.

risk it | four: pretend.

a/n: i think it’s safe to say that yn, jk, and yoongi are all a mess, right? let me know your thoughts, loves! xo

↠ main pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x salon owner!reader

↠ side ships: namjin, vmin (fwb), hoseok x makeup artist!oc

↠ word count: 2.7k

↠ warnings: some fluff if you squint LOL, angst so much angst, explicit language, jealousy, being drunk, light violence, spitting (but in a non sexual way lmao)

SERIES SUMMARY:

✧ a drunken text ends with you wrapped up in the arms of your ex-boyfriend. aka the man that you dumped two years prior, after he refused to marry you. suddenly, all of the feelings that you’d seemingly had buried come rushing back up to the surface, and you’re not sure how long you can ignore them.

Nearly ten minutes.

That’s how long you’d been arguing with Jungkook at the bottom of your stairs.

You were the world’s most stubborn person, and most (if not all) of your friends would agree with that statement. And you were even worse when you were drunk.

“For the thousandth time,” you slurred your words together as you spoke, leaning against your ex boyfriend’s side for support as you stood, “I can walk up the damn stairs by myself. You don’t have to carry me. I’m not a baby.”

He rolled his eyes at you— hard. If he had a dollar for every time you’d caused him to roll his eyes since you’d gotten into his car earlier, he was sure he’d be a millionaire by now.

“If you can stand up on your own without holding onto my arm, I’ll believe you.”

And now it was your turn to roll your eyes. Only, when you did, it made your vision fuzzier than it already was.

“Well if you’d stop spinning the room, maybe I fucking could.” You stuck your tongue out at him, and he dragged his free hand down his face.

“You know what—“ You were being whisked off of the ground before you could even register what was happening.

Jungkook had your body thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes as he treaded up the stairs, and of course you were pounding your fists against his back like a child.

“Put me down!” You insisted, to which he decided to happily oblige once he’d successfully carried you into your bedroom at the end of the hallway.

“Absolutely.” He gently tossed you onto your queen sized bed, and you let out an overly dramatic huff as your back hit the mattress.

“Not what I meant.” You mumbled.

You laid back and rested an arm over your eyes after you’d closed them, but you still felt like you were moving in circles. Nausea quickly set in and you groaned, clutching your stomach with your other hand.

“Fuck you, this is all your fault.” You snapped at the man that was standing at the foot of your bed, staring at you with a look of both annoyance and concern.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook’s voice was laced with sarcasm, “how is this my fault, exactly?”

“Because if you’d have just shown up tonight, I wouldn’t have tried to drink my feelings away,” you barked out a harsh laugh, a pitiful sound that made Jungkook’s heart drop to the pit of his stomach, “feelings that I shouldn’t even fucking have.”

He let out a low sigh. Of course he knew your feelings for him were still there, or maybe he at least secretly hoped that they would be. Because after all, his feelings for yours never seemed to go away. No matter how hard he tried to forget you and forget how much love he had for you, it never worked.

“Of course,” you scoffed, “just stand there all silent and brooding. It’s what you do best.”

The feeling of being giggly and buzzed was long gone, now you were just an insane amount of nauseous and wanted nothing more than to sleep this state of drunkenness off. You were sad, and you were fighting an internal battle.

The rational side of you kept screaming for you to tell Jungkook to leave, and you knew that he would without question. Which pissed you off to no end. As badly as you didn’t want to admit it, you wanted him to refuse to leave. You wanted him to fight to stay with you tonight. Hell, you just wanted him to fight for you.

So, instead of asking him to leave, you asked him a different question instead.

“Can you find me some clothes to sleep in? I can’t sleep in a mini dress, and if I stand up I’m going to fall, vomit, or both.”

“Yeah, shorts and a T-shirt okay?”

You nodded, finally feeling like you’d come back down to earth enough to remove your arm from your face and open up your eyes.

Jungkook made the short walk from your bed to your dresser, and you couldn’t help but to admire him as he did so.

He looked good— so good, and you fucking hated it. His hair was longer, just the way you’d always liked it. It was messy from sleep, which somehow made him even more attractive. He’d shown up at the club wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, a hoodie to match, and that damn leather jacket he’d had for years. And in typical Jungkook fashion, he’d worn combat boots to top it all off. He looked like a fucking dream. And maybe it was the alcohol— no, it was definitely the alcohol, you were sure of it, but you desperately wanted to jump his bones.

As he made his way back over to you, with your newfound sleep attire draped over his arm, a wave of boldness hit you. And you blurted out the question before you could stop yourself.

“So, you wanna fuck?”

You don’t know what you were expecting him to say, but you definitely weren’t expecting to hear the sad sounding sigh that made its way out of his mouth.

“You’re drunk.” He stated the obvious, and you crossed your arms over your chest as you sat up on your bed.

“So?”

“So,” he emphasized as he handed the clothes off to you, “I’m not fucking you while you’re drunk.”

You scoffed, “But I’m asking you to. It’s not like you’re taking advantage of me or anything.”

“You know me better than that. Now please, just get some sleep.”

Of course he wanted to. It’d been over two years since he’d last been inside of you, and if you were sober, his answer probably would have been much different. Sure, he’d had hookups, but none of them could compare to how you made him feel. Not even close.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes, sitting up on your knees to tug off your dress.

As you did, Jungkook turned around and faced away from you to give you your privacy.

And of course, you thought he was being ridiculous.

“Jungkook, you’ve seen me in my underwear before.”

“I know, but it’s different now.”

Your eyes narrowed at the back of his head as you tossed the dress onto the floor and replaced it with the old T-shirt.

“Wouldn’t have to be different if you weren’t so stupid.” You quietly mumbled, pulling the pair of plaid cotton shorts up your legs.

“Huh?” he prompted, “Couldn’t hear what you said.”

“Nothing,” you sighed, “are you going to hold me, or what?”

Before Jungkook could respond, your bedroom door was being swung open by a very heated Min Yoongi.

“Get the fuck out.” He spoke through gritted teeth as he took two steps closer to Jungkook, pointing toward the door with his index finger.

You watched the scene in front of you unfold as Jungkook, too, took two steps forward— the two of them starting to get dangerously close to one another.

“If Y/n wants me to leave, I will. But if she doesn’t, I’m not fucking going anywhere.”

Yoongi clenched his fist at his side, staring daggers through the taller man in front of him. He took one swift stride forward, resulting in the two of them being toe to toe.

“I swear to God, Jungkook. I’ll throw your ass out of this apartment if you don’t leave in the next sixty seconds. You’ve hurt her enough. I’ll be damned if you’re going to do it again!”

Jungkook was seething, you could tell by the way he was clenching his jaw. This was about to get ugly, and if you didn’t put a stop to it you were sure to be wiping blood off of the floor and picking up their teeth.

When you said you’d wanted him to fight for you, you didn’t mean it literally.

“Like I said on the phone, I’d like to see you fucking try you piece of shit!”

It took a lot to make Jungkook this angry. But somehow— for a reason unknown to you, Yoongi always seemed to push all of the right (wrong?) buttons to piss him off. All Jungkook could see was red, and he was ten seconds or less away from putting your best friend through a wall. You could tell by the way his knuckles were turning white as he formed his tattooed hands into fists. Yeah, it was definitely time for you to step in.

As you were scrambling off of your bed, still unbalanced from your alcohol induced high, you heard Yoongi spew out a string of insults— followed by a harsh spitting sound. When you looked up, you saw Jungkook wiping saliva off of his cheek with the back of his hand. And you knew it was too late.

“Jungkook, don’t do it!” You shouted, trying to get to him before he could make a move.

But you weren’t quick enough. Jungkook had his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders in an instant, shoving him backwards and slamming him into the wall so hard that you were sure there’d be a Yoongi shaped hole in it.

Jungkook balled his right hand up into a tight fist, ready to swing and forcefully connect it to Yoongi’s jaw. Fortunately, you stood in between them before he could do so, causing him to halt his actions abruptly.

“Don’t,” you pleaded, the current situation resulting in you slowly sobering up, “please.”��

Your hands found their way onto the sides of his face, your thumbs grazing along the tops of his cheeks. To your surprise, he leaned into your touch and allowed himself to focus only on the way you were rubbing his skin. He hadn’t touched you, or been touched by you, in so long that he was going to take all he could get.

Yoongi stood up straight behind you, watching the way you seemed to handle Jungkook with such care. It broke his heart to know that you’d never be like that with him. Especially since he was one hundred percent certain he could treat you better than Jungkook (or anyone, for that matter) ever could. You deserved the world, and he wouldn’t hesitate to give it to you. Jungkook didn’t deserve you. He was the dumbest human alive for refusing to marry you. Whereas Yoongi— well, he’d marry you any time, any place, any day of the week without hesitation.

Maybe if he wasn’t such a chicken, he would’ve confessed his feelings to you by now. Or maybe he would’ve if he wasn’t already certain that his feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated.

“Do you want him to stay?” Yoongi questioned, despite knowing the answer.

As much as he loved you, he also respected you. And he also knew that you were an adult and free to make your own decisions, even if he thought they were the wrong ones. He couldn’t stop you from getting hurt again. But he’d be there to hold you while you cried afterwards, and to pick up your broken pieces if you needed him to.

“Yeah,” you nodded, looking back at your friend as you rolled your shoulders into a shrug, “I do.”

“You know where I’ll be if you need me.”

He shot Jungkook a death glare before glancing at you, and you felt like you could crumble and fall to the ground from the amount of disappointment you saw in his eyes.

“Yoongs, I—“ The loud slam of the wooden door cut you off, and your lower lip began to quiver. This was all too much, too fast. Alcohol, sleep deprivation, and emotions didn’t seem to mix well.

At the sight of your trembling lip, Jungkook brought his hand upward to run his thumb along it in an attempt to soothe you and provide you with some form of comfort.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft as he spoke, and you shot him a questioning look.

“For?”

“For a lot of things.” He admitted, and you simply gave him a nod.

“I know. Doesn’t change anything, though.”

He sighed, “I know.”

You grabbed hold of his hand with your own, taking just a few seconds to admire the way that your hand seemed to mold perfectly into his— like it was made for him to grasp. He let you lead him to your bed, kicking off his boots and stripping himself of his jacket before lying down beside you.

“I miss you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, and you didn’t dare face him.

He closed his eyes, and you could hear him intake a deep breath.

“I’m right here.”

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, willing the tears that were begging to overflow to stay back.

“Would it kill you to say that you miss me too?” Despite your efforts to hide your true feelings, your voice cracked and gave you away, “Unless you don’t miss me, then I guess that would make sense.”

“Look at me.” He ordered, but you shook your head.

“No.”

Jungkook rolled over onto his side, scooting closer to close the gap in between your bodies. You could feel the warmth from him beside you, and you could smell his signature warm, inviting cologne that never failed to put you in a trance.

“You think I don’t miss you?” The question was clearly rhetorical, seeing as how he continued to ramble on, “I miss you so bad that it hurts, it physically hurts. Every bone in my body aches from how badly I miss you.”

That’s all it took for the tears to finally spill over and onto your cheeks, and you didn’t even try to hide the fact that you were crying.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his own eyes welling up with water, “I didn’t mean to make you cry, that’s the last thing I wanted to do. Maybe I should just leave—“

“Go ahead!” You shouted, your tears coming out quicker and stronger now, “leaving is what you do best!”

“I didn’t leave you. You broke up with me.” He didn’t yell. In fact, he spoke calmly. It was rare for him to raise his voice at you, and you could count how many times he’d done so on only one hand. It didn’t matter how badly you seemed to piss him off, or how loud you got with him, he couldn’t bring himself to scream at you.

“What other fucking choice did I have, Jungkook?” You finally looked at him, and when you did his heart shattered at the pain he saw in your eyes.

“You deserve better than me. You deserve someone who can give you—“

“Everything that you can’t,” you finished his sentence for him with a bite to your voice, “yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

It was silent for what felt like an eternity. When in reality, it was only about five minutes. And it was Jungkook who finally broke the obvious tension in the air.

“Let me hold you.”

You didn’t say anything, only turned your back to him to allow him to spoon you from behind. His strong arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled your body against his chest, using his free hand to card his fingers through your long hair.

You melted into his touch, humming as he began to dig his fingernails into your scalp to massage it.

“Can we just… pretend that everything’s okay between us?” you asked, “For tonight, and then tomorrow we can go back to how it was.”

He pressed his lips to the back of your head and allowed them to linger there as he nodded, giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah, bug. We can.”

Your heart swelled at the nickname, short for lovebug, that he’d given you so many years ago, and you cracked the saddest smile you’d ever mustered up in your life.

“Kook?” You allowed your arm to rest over his, and he took the lead in intertwining your fingers.

“Hmm?”

“Did you… cover up my name? The tattoo of it on your chest, I mean.”

“No,” he didn’t hesitate, “and I have no desire to. Do you regret letting me tattoo you?”

You shook your head, running your thumb along the back of his hand, “No.”

“You need to go to sleep.”

“I know,” your eyelids were already beginning to droop, “sing to me?”

“Of course.”

⇠ masterlist ⇢

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taylorswifthongkong · 4 years ago

Link

Taylor Swift broke all her rules with Folklore — and gave herself a much-needed escape The pop star, one of EW's 2020 Entertainers of the Year, delves deep into her surprise eighth album, Rebekah Harkness, and a Joe Biden presidency. By Alex Suskind

“He is my co-writer on ‛Betty’ and ‛Exile,’” replies Taylor Swift with deadpan precision. The question Who is William Bowery? was, at the time we spoke, one of 2020’s great mysteries, right up there with the existence of Joe Exotic and the sudden arrival of murder hornets. An unknown writer credited on the year’s biggest album? It must be an alias.

Is he your brother?

“He’s William Bowery,” says Swift with a smile.

It's early November, after Election Day but before Swift eventually revealed Bowery's true identity to the world (the leading theory, that he was boyfriend Joe Alwyn, proved prescient). But, like all Swiftian riddles, it was fun to puzzle over for months, particularly in this hot mess of a year, when brief distractions are as comforting as a well-worn cardigan. Thankfully, the Bowery... erhm, Alwyn-assisted Folklore — a Swift project filled with muted pianos and whisper-quiet snares, recorded in secret with Jack Antonoff and the National’s Aaron Dessner — delivered.

“The only people who knew were the people I was making it with, my boyfriend, my family, and a small management team,” Swift, 30, tells EW of the album's hush-hush recording sessions. That gave the intimate Folklore a mystique all its own: the first surprise Taylor Swift album, one that prioritized fantastical tales over personal confessions.

“Early in quarantine, I started watching lots of films,” she explains. “Consuming other people’s storytelling opened this portal in my imagination and made me feel like, Why have I never created characters and intersecting storylines?” That’s how she ended up with three songs about an imagined love triangle (“Cardigan,” “Betty,” “August”), one about a clandestine romance (“Illicit Affairs”), and another chronicling a doomed relationship (“Exile”). Others tell of sumptuous real-life figures like Rebekah Harkness, a divorcee who married the heir to Standard Oil — and whose home Swift purchased 31 years after her death. The result, “The Last Great American Dynasty,” hones in on Harkness’ story, until Swift cleverly injects herself.

And yet, it wouldn’t be a Swift album without a few barbed postmortems over her own history. Notably, “My Tears Ricochet” and “Mad Woman," which touch on her former label head Scott Borchetta selling the masters to Swift’s catalog to her known nemesis Scooter Braun. Mere hours after our interview, the lyrics’ real-life origins took a surprising twist, when news broke that Swift’s music had once again been sold, to another private equity firm, for a reported $300 million. Though Swift ignored repeated requests for comment on the transaction, she did tweet a statement, hitting back at Braun while noting that she had begun re-recording her old albums — something she first promised in 2019 as a way of retaining agency over her creative legacy. (Later, she would tease a snippet of that reimagined work, with a new version of her hit 2008 single "Love Story.")

Like surprise-dropping Folklore, like pissing off the president by endorsing his opponents, like shooing away haters, Swift does what suits her. “I don’t think we often hear about women who did whatever the hell they wanted,” she says of Harkness — something Swift is clearly intent on changing. For her, that means basking in the world of, and favorable response to, Folklore. As she says in our interview, “I have this weird thing where, in order to create the next thing, I attack the previous thing. I don’t love that I do that, but it is the thing that has kept me pivoting to another world every time I make an album. But with this one, I still love it.”

TAYLOR SWIFT: I was. I wasn't expecting to make an album. Early on in quarantine, I started watching lots of films. We would watch a different movie every night. I'm ashamed to say I hadn't seen Pan's Labyrinth before. One night I'd watch that, then I'd watch L.A. Confidential, then we'd watch Rear Window, then we'd watch Jane Eyre. I feel like consuming other people's art and storytelling sort of opened this portal in my imagination and made me feel like, "Well, why have I never done this before? Why have I never created characters and intersecting storylines? And why haven't I ever sort of freed myself up to do that from a narrative standpoint?" There is something a little heavy about knowing when you put out an album, people are going to take it so literally that everything you say could be clickbait. It was really, really freeing to be able to just be inspired by worlds created by the films you watch or books you've read or places you've dreamed of or people that you've wondered about, not just being inspired by your own experience.

In that vain, what's it like to sit down and write something like “Betty,” which is told from the perspective of a 17-year-old boy?

That was huge for me. And I think it came from the fact that my co-writer, William Bowery [Joe Alwyn], is male — and he was the one who originally thought of the chorus melody. And hearing him sing it, I thought, "That sounds really cool." Obviously, I don't have a male voice, but I thought, "I could have a male perspective." Patty Griffin wrote this song, “Top of the World.” It's one of my favorite songs of all time, and it's from the perspective of this older man who has lived a life full of regret, and he's kind of taking stock of that regret. So, I thought, "This is something that people I am a huge fan of have done. This would be fun to kind of take this for a spin."

What are your favorite William Bowery conspiracies?

I love them all individually and equally. I love all the conspiracy theories around this album. [With] "Betty," Jack Antonoff would text me these articles and think pieces and in-depth Tumblr posts on what this love triangle meant to the person who had listened to it. And that's exactly what I was hoping would happen with this album. I wrote these stories for a specific reason and from a specific place about specific people that I imagined, but I wanted that to all change given who was listening to it. And I wanted it to start out as mine and become other people's. It's been really fun to watch.

I didn't think about any of that for the very first time. And a lot of this album was kind of distilled down to the purest version of what the story is. Songwriting on this album is exactly the way that I would write if I considered nothing else other than, "What words do I want to write? What stories do I want to tell? What melodies do I want to sing? What production is essential to tell those stories?" It was a very do-it-yourself experience. My management team, we created absolutely everything in advance — every lyric video, every individual album package. And then we called our label a week in advance and said, "Here's what we have.” The photo shoot was me and the photographer walking out into a field. I'd done my hair and makeup and brought some nightgowns. These experiences I was used to having with 100 people on set, commanding alongside other people in a very committee fashion — all of a sudden it was me and a photographer, or me and my DP. It was a new challenge, because I love collaboration. But there's something really fun about knowing what you can do if it's just you doing it.

Did you find it freeing?

I did. Every project involves different levels of collaboration, because on other albums there are things that my stylist will think of that I never would've thought of. But if I had all those people on the photo shoot, I would've had to have them quarantine away from their families for weeks on end, and I would've had to ask things of them that I didn't think were fair if I could figure out a way to do it [myself]. I had this idea for the [Folklore album cover] that it would be this girl sleepwalking through the forest in a nightgown in 1830 [laughs]. Very specific. A pioneer woman sleepwalking at night. I made a moodboard and sent it to Beth [Garrabrant], who I had never worked with before, who shoots only on film. We were just carrying bags across a field and putting the bags of film down, and then taking pictures. It was a blast.

Well, Aaron is one of the most effortlessly prolific creators I've ever worked with. It's really mind-blowing. And every time I've spoken to an artist since this whole process [began], I said, "You need to work with him. It'll change the way you create." He would send me these — he calls them sketches, but it's basically an instrumental track. the second day — the day after I texted him and said, "Hey, would you ever want to work together?" — he sent me this file of probably 30 of these instrumentals and every single one of them was one of the most interesting, exciting things I had ever heard. Music can be beautiful, but it can be lacking that evocative nature. There was something about everything he created that is an immediate image in my head or melody that I came up with. So much so that I'd start writing as soon as I heard a new one. And oftentimes what I would send back would inspire him to make more instrumentals and then send me that one. And then I wrote the song and it started to shape the project, form-fitted and customized to what we wanted to do.

It was weird because I had never made an album and not played it for my girlfriends or told my friends. The only people who knew were the people that I was making it with, my boyfriend, my family, and then my management team. So that's the smallest number of people I've ever had know about something. I'm usually playing it for everyone that I'm friends with. So I had a lot of friends texting me things like, "Why didn't you say on our everyday FaceTimes you were making a record?"

Was it nice to be able to keep it a secret?

Well, it felt like it was only my thing. It felt like such an inner world I was escaping to every day that it almost didn't feel like an album. Because I wasn't making a song and finishing it and going, "Oh my God, that is catchy.” I wasn't making these things with any purpose in mind. And so it was almost like having it just be mine was this really sweet, nice, pure part of the world as everything else in the world was burning and crashing and feeling this sickness and sadness. I almost didn't process it as an album. This was just my daydream space.

Does it still feel like that?

Yeah, because I love it so much. I have this weird thing that I do when I create something where in order to create the next thing I kind of, in my head, attack the previous thing. I don't love that I do that but it is the thing that has kept me pivoting to another world every time I make an album. But with this one, I just still love it. I'm so proud of it. And so that feels very foreign to me. That doesn't feel like a normal experience that I've had with releasing albums.

When did you first learn about Rebekah Harkness?

Oh, I learned about her as soon as I was being walked through [her former Rhode Island] home. I got the house when I was in my early twenties as a place for my family to congregate and be together. I was told about her, I think, by the real estate agent who was walking us through the property. And as soon as I found out about her, I wanted to know everything I could. So I started reading. I found her so interesting. And then as more parallels began to develop between our two lives — being the lady that lives in that house on the hill that everybody gets to gossip about — I was always looking for an opportunity to write about her. And I finally found it.

I love that you break the fourth wall in the song. Did you go in thinking you’d include yourself in the story?

I think that in my head, I always wanted to do a country music, standard narrative device, which is: the first verse you sing about someone else, the second verse you sing about someone else who's even closer to you, and then in the third verse, you go, "Surprise! It was me.” You bring it personal for the last verse. And I'd always thought that if I were to tell that story, I would want to include the similarities — our lives or our reputations or our scandals.

How often did you regale friends about the history of Rebekah and Holiday House while hanging out at Holiday House?

Anyone who's been there before knows that I do “The Tour,” in quotes, where I show everyone through the house. And I tell them different anecdotes about each room, because I've done that much research on this house and this woman. So in every single room, there's a different anecdote about Rebekah Harkness. If you have a mixed group of people who've been there before and people who haven't, [the people who’ve been there] are like, "Oh, she's going to do the tour. She's got to tell you the story about how the ballerinas used to practice on the lawn.” And they'll go get a drink and skip it because it's the same every time. But for me, I'm telling the story with the same electric enthusiasm, because it's just endlessly entertaining to me that this fabulous woman lived there. She just did whatever she wanted.

I found myself being very triggered by any stories, movies, or narratives revolving around divorce, which felt weird because I haven't experienced it directly. There’s no reason it should cause me so much pain, but all of a sudden it felt like something I had been through. I think that happens any time you've been in a 15-year relationship and it ends in a messy, upsetting way. So I wrote “My Tears Ricochet” and I was using a lot of imagery that I had conjured up while comparing a relationship ending to when people end an actual marriage. All of a sudden this person that you trusted more than anyone in the world is the person that can hurt you the worst. Then all of a sudden the things that you have been through together, hurt. All of a sudden, the person who was your best friend is now your biggest nemesis, etc. etc. etc. I think I wrote some of the first lyrics to that song after watching Marriage Story and hearing about when marriages go wrong and end in such a catastrophic way. So these songs are in some ways imaginary, in some ways not, and in some ways both.

How did it feel to drop an F-bomb on "Mad Woman"?

F---ing fantastic.

And that’s the first time you ever recorded one on a record, right?

Yeah. Every rule book was thrown out. I always had these rules in my head and one of them was, You haven't done this before, so you can't ever do this. “Well, you've never had an explicit sticker, so you can't ever have an explicit sticker.” But that was one of the times where I felt like you need to follow the language and you need to follow the storyline. And if the storyline and the language match up and you end up saying the F-word, just go for it. I wasn't adhering to any of the guidelines that I had placed on myself. I decided to just make what I wanted to make. And I'm really happy that the fans were stoked about that because I think they could feel that. I'm not blaming anyone else for me restricting myself in the past. That was all, I guess, making what I want to make. I think my fans could feel that I opened the gate and ran out of the pasture for the first time, which I'm glad they picked up on because they're very intuitive.

Let’s talk about “Epiphany.” The first verse is a nod to your grandfather, Dean, who fought in World War II. What does his story mean to you personally?

I wanted to write about him for awhile. He died when I was very young, but my dad would always tell this story that the only thing that his dad would ever say about the war was when somebody would ask him, "Why do you have such a positive outlook on life?" My grandfather would reply, "Well, I'm not supposed to be here. I shouldn't be here." My dad and his brothers always kind of imagined that what he had experienced was really awful and traumatic and that he'd seen a lot of terrible things. So when they did research, they learned that he had fought at the Battles of Guadalcanal, at Cape Gloucester, at Talasea, at Okinawa. He had seen a lot of heavy fire and casualties — all of the things that nightmares are made of. He was one of the first people to sign up for the war. But you know, these are things that you can only imagine that a lot of people in that generation didn't speak about because, a) they didn't want people that they came home to to worry about them, and b) it just was so bad that it was the actual definition of unspeakable.

I mean, you just immediately think of the health workers who are putting their lives on the line — and oftentimes losing their lives. If they make it out of this, if they see the other side of it, there's going to be a lot of trauma that comes with that; there's going to be things that they witnessed that they will never be able to un-see. And that was the connection that I drew. I did a lot of research on my grandfather in the beginning of quarantine, and it hit me very quickly that we've got a version of that trauma happening right now in our hospitals. God, you hope people would respect it and would understand that going out for a night isn't worth the ripple effect that it causes. But obviously we're seeing that a lot of people don't seem to have their eyes open to that — or if they do, a lot of people don't care, which is upsetting.

You had the Lover Fest East and West scheduled this year. How hard has it been to both not perform for your fans this year, and see the music industry at large go through such a brutal change?

It's confusing. It's hard to watch. I think that maybe me wanting to make as much music as possible during this time was a way for me to feel like I could reach out my hand and touch my fans, even if I couldn't physically reach out or take a picture with them. We've had a lot of different, amazing, fun, sort of underground traditions we've built over the years that involve a lot of human interaction, and so I have no idea what's going to happen with touring; none of us do. And that's a scary thing. You can't look to somebody in the music industry who's been around a long time, or an expert touring manager or promoter and [ask] what's going to happen and have them give you an answer. I think we're all just trying to keep our eyes on the horizon and see what it looks like. So we're just kind of sitting tight and trying to take care of whatever creative spark might exist and trying to figure out how to reach our fans in other ways, because we just can't do that right now.

When you are able to perform again, do you have plans on resurfacing a Lover Fest-type event?

I don't know what incarnation it'll take and I really would need to sit down and think about it for a good solid couple of months before I figured out the answer. Because whatever we do, I want it to be something that is thoughtful and will make the fans happy and I hope I can achieve that. I'm going to try really hard to.

In addition to recording an album, you spent this year supporting Joe Biden and Kamala Harris in the election. Where were you when it was called in their favor?

Well, when the results were coming in, I was actually at the property where we shot the Entertainment Weekly cover. I was hanging out with my photographer friend, Beth, and the wonderful couple that owned the farm where we [were]. And we realized really early into the night that we weren't going to get an accurate picture of the results. Then, a couple of days later, I was on a video shoot, but I was directing, and I was standing there with my face shield and mask on next to my director of photography, Rodrigo Prieto. And I just remember a news alert coming up on my phone that said, "Biden is our next president. He's won the election." And I showed it to Rodrigo and he said, "I'm always going to remember the moment that we learned this." And I looked around, and people's face shields were starting to fog up because a lot of people were really misty-eyed and emotional, and it was not loud. It wasn't popping bottles of champagne. It was this moment of quiet, cautious elation and relief.

Do you ever think about what Folklore would have sounded like if you, Aaron, and Jack had been in the same room?

I think about it all the time. I think that a lot of what has happened with the album has to do with us all being in a collective emotional place. Obviously everybody's lives have different complexities and whatnot, but I think most of us were feeling really shaken up and really out of place and confused and in need of something comforting all at the same time. And for me, that thing that was comforting was making music that felt sort of like I was trying to hug my fans through the speakers. That was truly my intent. Just trying to hug them when I can't hug them.

I was really excited about "August slipped away into a moment of time/August sipped away like a bottle of wine." That was a song where Jack sent me the instrumental and I wrote the song pretty much on the spot; it just was an intuitive thing. And that was actually the first song that I wrote of the "Betty" triangle. So the Betty songs are "August," "Cardigan," and "Betty." "August" was actually the first one, which is strange because it's the song from the other girl's perspective.

Yeah, I assumed you wrote "Cardigan" first.

It would be safe to assume that "Cardigan" would be first, but it wasn't. It was very strange how it happened, but it kind of pieced together one song at a time, starting with "August," where I kind of wanted to explore the element of This is from the perspective of a girl who was having her first brush with love. And then all of a sudden she's treated like she's the other girl, because there was another situation that had already been in place, but "August" girl thought she was really falling in love. It kind of explores the idea of the undefined relationship. As humans, we're all encouraged to just be cool and just let it happen, and don't ask what the relationship is — Are we exclusive? But if you are chill about it, especially when you're young, you learn the very hard lesson that if you don't define something, oftentimes they can gaslight you into thinking it was nothing at all, and that it never happened. And how do you mourn the loss of something once it ends, if you're being made to believe that it never happened at all?

"I almost didn't process it as an album," says Taylor Swift of making Folklore. "And it's still hard for me to process as an entity or a commodity, because [it] was just my daydream space."

I'm really proud of that one too. I heard the track immediately. Aaron sent it to me, and it had this immediate sense of serenity running through it. The first word that popped into my head was peace, but I thought that it would be too on-the-nose to sing about being calm, or to sing about serenity, or to sing about finding peace with someone. Because you have this very conflicted, very dramatic conflict-written lyric paired with this very, very calming sound of the instrumental. But, "The devil's in the details," is one of those phrases that I've written down over the years. That's a common phrase that is used in the English language every day. And I just thought it sounded really cool because of the D, D sound. And I thought, "I'll hang onto those in a list, and then, I'll finally find the right place for them in a story." I think that's how a lot of people feel where it's like, "Yeah, the devil's in the details. Everybody's complex when you look under the hood of the car." But basically saying, "I'm there for you if you want that, if this complexity is what you want."

There's another clever turn-of-phrase on "This is Me Trying." "I didn't know if you'd care if I came back/I have a lot of regrets about that." That feels like a nod toward your fans, and some of the feelings you had about retreating from the public sphere.

Absolutely. I think I was writing from three different characters' perspectives, one who's going through that; I was channeling the emotions I was feeling in 2016, 2017, where I just felt like I was worth absolutely nothing. And then, the second verse is about dealing with addiction and issues with struggling every day. And every second of the day, you're trying not to fall into old patterns, and nobody around you can see that, and no one gives you credit for it. And then, the third verse, I was thinking, what would the National do? What lyric would Matt Berninger write? What chords would the National play? And it's funny because I've since played this song for Aaron, and he's like, "That's not what we would've done at all." He's like, "I love that song, but that's totally different than what we would've done with it."

Yeah, I was at the show where they were playing through I Am Easy to Find. What I loved about [that album] was they had female vocalists singing from female perspectives, and that triggered and fired something in me where I thought, "I've got to play with different perspectives because that is so intriguing when you hear a female perspective come in from a band where you're used to only hearing a male perspective." It just sparked something in me. And obviously, you mentioning the National is the reason why Folklore came to be. So, thank you for that, Alex.

I'm here for all of your songwriting muse needs in the future.

I can't wait to see what comes out of this interview.

This interview has been edited and condensed.

For more on our Entertainers of the Year and Best & Worst of 2020, order the January issue of Entertainment Weekly or find it on newsstands beginning Dec. 18. (You can also pick up the full set of six covers here.) Don’t forget to subscribe for more exclusive interviews and photos, only in EW.

#ew #entertainment weekly #article #interview #folklore promo #folklore interview #quote #aaron dessner #jack antonoff #joe alwyn

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otptings · 4 years ago

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Life Goes On

→Idols: Wong Kunhang & Xiao Dejun

→Requested: Yessss Hi!!! I’m a new follower and literally fell in love with your writing ^o^ May I request an angsty right person at the wrong time scenario with either Xiaojun or Hendery, thank you!

→Genre: Right Person Wrong Time, angst, fluff

→Word Count: 2.7k+

→Warnings: self degradation, implied cheating, Hendery's an asshole, Xiao's a savior, kinda self indulgent (apologies)

→Synopsis: Life's not far. You either have to learn how to swim or drown in your own misery.

→A/n: I honestly surprised myself when I finished this cause I'm actually behind on a couple requests but I really enjoyed writing this. I hope you enjoy reading this, and if you did please like, reblog or donate to my Ko-Fi in my bio. Requests are open for NCT, Enhypen, SVT, and Treasure.

Life isn’t fair, and it isn’t always right. Things don’t end the way you want them to, and no amount of begging or wishing or sacrificing will change fate. So you can only sit there, watch as life moves on without you in it. You either learn how to swim or drown in your own misery.

You swam.

Wong Kun-Hang, you’re child-hood bestfriend. The two of you met long ago. Back when the biggest problems were early bedtimes, or begging your parents for the newest toys. When scraped knees and torn tights were a constant part of your life. In the 2nd grade when he was the new kid, you were too nervous to talk to him so you gave him a special Valentine’s Day card, the one with the carton fish with the really funny joke on it that made you giggle while you were placing various heart stickers on it, accompanied by two pieces of candy instead of one. One of your parents had helped you sign it specially with your name, not just your initials. Although it was scribbled it was still readable. You were nervous walking up to his desk, fixing your school uniform as best you could before shyly handing it to him, trying to hide the heat that was rising in your cheeks and ears.

“Hi.” Kun-Hang looked up at you, a look matching yours on his face. You saw his paper bag for his cards was bare, Kun-Hang covering the front of it in the teacher’s cursive due to him not having time to decorate it. It was empty, devoid of any Valentines, and he hadn’t brought any to give out so he didn’t even have his own. It was sad compared to yours, filled almost to the brim with cute cards and candy.

“Hi.” Hendery’s voice was almost a whisper. He wasn’t prepared for anyone to talk to him, he had only been in your class for a week and hadn’t had enough time to make friends.

“I want to be your friend. Here’s a Valentine’s card.” Where you ignored the heat in your cheeks it was obvious to see Kun-Hang’s awkward smile adorning his face as his cheeks glowed a light red. It was too late to back down now, so you thrust the card out towards him and watched as he timidly took it before sending him a bright smile and scurrying off to your desk, the teacher’s voice telling the class to calm down.

You looked towards the teacher, patiently waiting for their instruction while Kun-Hang only looked at you, awe in his eyes while replaying the moment you walked up to.

Years have gone by since that fateful day that you handed him the card and declared that you wanted to be his friend and you’re still just as close. The day after Valentine’s Kun-Hang stayed by your side faithfully, sitting beside you at lunch and playing with you and your friends at recess. At first he was still awkward, not knowing just where he fit into your life, but everytime you held your hand out to him or handed him a spare cookie from your lunchbox he got a little more comfortable until you were connected at the hip.

As the friend group gradually grew smaller due to everyone else moving away or transferring schools, you and Kun-Hang stayed together, evolving into something more than just childhood best-friends. Shared cookies turning into something else just as sweet, innocent pecks when you thought no one else was watching, holding hands having a new meaning when he pulls you under the bleachers of your high school during your share P.E. class to hold you close as he whispers his feelings for you. He was your perfect love story, your first and only boyfriend. Even now at 20, watching him live his dream life as an idol you still have the same feeling from the first time you met him, that bashful shy feeling as you watching him smile on stage and during fanmeets. The pretty diamond ring on your finger glinting in the various strobe lights they use for their concert, a comforting weight that makes your heart flutter when you think about the day that the two of you will get married.

Life always throws a wrench into pretty plans don’t though.

“It’s just not working out with her.” Confusion filled your mind hearing Hendery’s voice through the phone. Calling out his name gave you no answer. “She’s so clingy, she refuses to back off and give me any space.”

“Aren’t you getting married?”

“I don’t think I can go through with it. I don’t want to leave her at the altar though.”

“I thought you guys were perfect for eachother? Haven’t you been together since middle school?”

“I know, I know. I don’t think I ever liked her in that way. She’s my only relationship but I just don’t see her in that light. She’s more like an annoying little sister than a girlfriend.”

“You’re a fucking douchebag Hendery.”

“I know. She really loves me, but I don’t think I ever saw her romanctically. She was the only option. I really don’t want to ruin the friendship, but I don’t love her.”

You don’t remember hanging up the phone. Or sending him the message.

You accidentally called me, you don’t have to be miserable just to make me happy. I’m sorry I couldn’t be good enough for you.

I didn’t want you to find out this way. I really do like you, you’re my best friend.

But you don’t love me the way that I love you

I’m sorry.

Don’t be sorry. Goodbye Hendery.

Hendery couldn’t ignore the smile that grew on his face, the heavy feeling over his chest lifting.

“What happened to you? Why are you so happy?” Ten questioned while chewing on the cookie he stole from Kun, slight concerned at how over the span of a half hour Hendery’s expression could go from forlorn over the thought of the wedding to ecstatic as he jumped up from the couch, staring at his phone that was clenched tightly in his hand.

“She broke up with me.” His smile grew impossibly bigger while Xiao’s face dropped. “I accidentally called her while we were talking and she said we don’t have to be together.” If Hendery wasn’t so busy cheering about his new found freedom he would’ve felt how the tensions rose in the room, or saw how Xiao looked at him with disgust as he slid his engagement ring off of his finger and tossed it on the coffee table. As if it meant nothing to him.

“So you used her?” An uneasy silence settled over the room while Yangyang made a quick exit, not wanting to witness anything. Hendery’s smile swiftly disappeared at Xiao’s accusatory tone. “And you’re celebrating your ‘freedom’ while she’s heart broken?” A cold chuckle punctuated his statement.

“I didn’t mean for her to overhear the conversation. But she broke up with me. If she’s hurt it’s her fault.” Hendery tried to plead his case, looking around at his other groupmates that were present but they refused to meet his eyes, all sharing Xiao’s sentiments on the situation. “I never wanted her to fall in love with me.”

Xiao couldn’t ignore the way that his fist shook hearing Hendery say that. He was already angered hearing how casually Hendery talked about his lack of feelings, no remorse evident in his voice. Clenching his jaw to hide the obscenities and curses that he wanted to spout on each of Hendery’s weekly rants about your relationship. But hearing just how casually he used you and didn’t care, that was Xiao’s last straw.

“So you fucking used her, and are now blaming it on her?” The room went stilent and the tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Xiao walked closer to Hendery, crossing the coffee table that kept them separated. Then he threw the first punch.

No one was expecting it, hearing the crack when Xiao’s fist connected with Hendery’s nose. Hendery didn’t have time to recover enough to retaliate before Lucas was picking Xiao off of his feet and hauling him out of the room. “Fucking stay away from her or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Xiao knew that it was stupid to fall for you, even dumber since you were head over heels in love with Hendery, someone who didn’t deserve even an ounce of you. He knew that you would never see him in that light, naively hung up on Hendery, so he did the next best thing. Become your friend.

Sure, he knew that he was only a rebound, only truly talking to you whenever Hendery was too busy - ignoring you - to entertain you, so you turned to Xiao. He knew that there was never way you would love him the way that he loved you, but he didn’t care. He’d be whatever you wanted him to be, even if it was perpetually stuck pining after you.

That’s the only explainable reason as to why he snuck out of the dorm after receiving the text from you.

I need you Dejun

It wasn’t hard to leave the dorm, Sicheng and Ten were too busy worrying about Hendery’s nose and if it was broken or not. All Xiao had to do was slip out of the front door. He didn’t bother asking the manager for a ride, walking would do just fine. Your apartment wasn’t too far from the dorm, there was no sweat off his back. Until the clouds broke open and it started to rain profusely when Xiao was only a block away from your apartment.

That explains why you answered the frantic knocking at your door to be met with a soaking wet Xiao, hair plastered to his forehead from the rain and shirt appearing like a second skin.

“What the hell happened? Come in, hurry.” Moving to the side you quickly pulled Xiao inside, feeling guilty at the way that he shook from the cold.

“It rained a little bit.” Despite the pain in your chest, and your eyes burning from the amount of tears that you had shed you couldn’t help but giggle.

“That’s an understatement. I’ll get you a towel and some clothes so you can change.”

Twenty minutes later the two of you were awkwardly facing eachother. You’ve never truly hung out by yourself, the boys were always a buffer between the two of you. The teddy bear that you were clutching against your chest being the only thing to separate you, your light pink blanket seeming almost childish with Xiao sitting on it. The gigantic hoodie that you stole from your brother draped over his frame, almost drowning him in the sheer amount of fabric.

“Are you okay?” He was the first to break the silence, eyes finally meeting yours and softening out of compassion. The sight of him pitying you caused the tears to prick at your eyes, glancing down while you absentmindely played with the fraying ends of the blanket.

“Why would I be? Hearing that my fiance didn’t love me. I was a burden to him our whole relationship. An annoying little sister.” Letting out a joyless chuckle at the irony of it all, a fiance that saw you as a little sister. You hadn’t realized that warm tears were falling down your cheeks, darkening the light pink fabric where they hit, littering it with drops of magenta. “How was I so stupid? I should’ve seen it comer when he started staying at the studio later and later when there was no comeback. Was he even staying at the studio? Was there someone else?” You looked up at Xiao, trying to blink away the blurry vision to find any answer for the questions you desperately asked. Xiao’s hand came up to cup your cheek, wiping the tears away. The sweet motion caused you to let out a sob, launching yourself into Xiao’s arm.

Xiao’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you onto his lap. You couldn’t be bothered to feel awkward or uncomfortable at the strange position, only burying your face into the hoodie and letting your tears soak the fabric. Xiao sighed, biting back his own emotions as he listened to you choke on your sobs, feeling your body shake with every wretched wail that left your mouth. All because of Hendery. If it weren’t for you clutching onto the fabric of the hoodie so tightly that it could rip out of fear of Xiao leaving he might’ve gone back to the dorm and broken Hendery’s jaw.

“He never deserved you.” Swallowing to hide the way that his voice attempted to crack Xiao continued, “ You are the sweetest, loveliest, gentliest, and purest person that I have ever met in my life. You care for everyone and everything no matter how small or significant they may seem. You loved Hendery with your whole heart, and he didn’t deserve to ever see that side of you.” Your sobbing had dissolved into meaningless sniffles, eyes still wet with tears as you listened to Xiao’s words.

“He’s the only person I’ve ever loved. I thought he was the one.”

“He wasn’t right for you. You’ll meet someone who is.” Xiao bit back the confession that he desperately wanted to say. He knew it wasn’t the right time. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence until the sounds of your stomach grumbling caused Xiao to sadly move you from his lap so that he could order the two of you food.

The silence remained even as the two of you ate, quietly munching as the ramen noodles brought a warmth back to you, hands shaking slightly from the after-cry headache that plagued you. Xiao grabbed your empty containers and bottles, throwing them away before appearing in your doorway again, wet clothes now wrapped in a bag.

“It’s pretty late. I’m going to go home.”

“You can stay. If you want.” The silence between the two of you was no longer comfortable.

“I’ll stay.”

If only you knew just how long he would.

“I’m so proud of you baby.” You whispered in his ear as he carried you back to the bedroom, adrenaline from WayV’s most recent win still coursing through his veins, if the way that he unlocked the front door and picked you up had anything to say about it.

“Owe it all to you. Always supporting me.” Both of you giggled as he hovered over you, hands on either side of your head while yours ran down his back, before tugging at the bottom of his sheer shirt, prompting him to take it off and throw it on the floor.

“Technically you started this two years ago by staying.” Xiao rolled his eyes before leaning down, placing a sweet kiss on your lips, barely giving you enough time to savor it before he was pulling away. Poking your lips out Xiao obliged, placing one, two, three more kisses before pulling away.

“I’m in love with you.” This wasn’t the first time he’s said it, but this confession made you burn from the inside out all the same. Heat rising up your neck all the way to your ears while butterflies pranced around in your stomach. Xiao’s eyes held the exact same emotion that they had two years ago when you asked him to stay that you now had a name for. It was pure adoration, and devotion. Love in simpler terms.

“I’m in love with you too.” Tangling your fingers into his hair you pulled him down into another kiss, a searing one deeper than the previous ones you had shared. His hand coming up and cupping your jaw caused you to pull away from the kiss, a bright smile on your face as you whispered two words that caused Xiao to kiss you until the both of you had to pull away for air in fear of suffocating. “Thank you.”

Sometimes, the right one get’s away to let a better one in. Thank you Hendery, you taught me how to love so I could love Xiao properly.

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path-of-my-childhood · 4 years ago

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Taylor Swift Broke All Her Rules With Folklore - And Gave Herself A Much-Needed Escape

By: Alex Suskind for Entertainment Weekly Date: December 8th 2020 (EW's 2020 Entertainers of the Year cover)

The pop star, one of EW's 2020 Entertainers of the Year, delves deep into her surprise eighth album, Rebekah Harkness, and a Joe Biden presidency.

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Is he your brother?

“He’s William Bowery,” says Swift with a smile.

It's early November, after Election Day but before Swift eventually revealed Bowery's true identity to the world (the leading theory, that he was boyfriend Joe Alwyn, proved prescient). But, like all Swiftian riddles, it was fun to puzzle over for months, particularly in this hot mess of a year, when brief distractions are as comforting as a well-worn cardigan. Thankfully, the Bowery... erhm, Alwyn-assisted Folklore - a Swift project filled with muted pianos and whisper-quiet snares, recorded in secret with Jack Antonoff and the National’s Aaron Dessner - delivered.

“Early in quarantine, I started watching lots of films,” she explains. “Consuming other people’s storytelling opened this portal in my imagination and made me feel like, Why have I never created characters and intersecting storylines?” That’s how she ended up with three songs about an imagined love triangle (“Cardigan,” “Betty,” “August”), one about a clandestine romance (“Illicit Affairs”), and another chronicling a doomed relationship (“Exile”). Others tell of sumptuous real-life figures like Rebekah Harkness, a divorcee who married the heir to Standard Oil - and whose home Swift purchased 31 years after her death. The result, “The Last Great American Dynasty,” hones in on Harkness’ story, until Swift cleverly injects herself.

And yet, it wouldn’t be a Swift album without a few barbed postmortems over her own history. Notably, “My Tears Ricochet” and “Mad Woman," which touch on her former label head Scott Borchetta selling the masters to Swift’s catalog to her known nemesis Scooter Braun. Mere hours after our interview, the lyrics’ real-life origins took a surprising twist, when news broke that Swift’s music had once again been sold, to another private equity firm, for a reported $300 million. Though Swift ignored repeated requests for comment on the transaction, she did tweet a statement, hitting back at Braun while noting that she had begun re-recording her old albums - something she first promised in 2019 as a way of retaining agency over her creative legacy. (Later, she would tease a snippet of that reimagined work, with a new version of her hit 2008 single "Love Story.")

Like surprise-dropping Folklore, like pissing off the president by endorsing his opponents, like shooing away haters, Swift does what suits her. “I don’t think we often hear about women who did whatever the hell they wanted,” she says of Harkness - something Swift is clearly intent on changing. For her, that means basking in the world of, and favorable response to, Folklore. As she says in our interview, “I have this weird thing where, in order to create the next thing, I attack the previous thing. I don’t love that I do that, but it is the thing that has kept me pivoting to another world every time I make an album. But with this one, I still love it.”

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: We’ve spent the year quarantined in our houses, trying to stay healthy and avoiding friends and family. Were you surprised by your ability to create and release a full album in the middle of a pandemic? TAYLOR SWIFT: I was. I wasn't expecting to make an album. Early on in quarantine, I started watching lots of films. We would watch a different movie every night. I'm ashamed to say I hadn't seen Pan's Labyrinth before. One night I'd watch that, then I'd watch L.A. Confidential, then we'd watch Rear Window, then we'd watch Jane Eyre. I feel like consuming other people's art and storytelling sort of opened this portal in my imagination and made me feel like, "Well, why have I never done this before? Why have I never created characters and intersecting storylines? And why haven't I ever sort of freed myself up to do that from a narrative standpoint?" There is something a little heavy about knowing when you put out an album, people are going to take it so literally that everything you say could be clickbait. It was really, really freeing to be able to just be inspired by worlds created by the films you watch or books you've read or places you've dreamed of or people that you've wondered about, not just being inspired by your own experience.

In that vein, what's it like to sit down and write something like “Betty,” which is told from the perspective of a 17-year-old boy? That was huge for me. And I think it came from the fact that my co-writer, William Bowery [Joe Alwyn], is male — and he was the one who originally thought of the chorus melody. And hearing him sing it, I thought, "That sounds really cool." Obviously, I don't have a male voice, but I thought, "I could have a male perspective." Patty Griffin wrote this song, “Top of the World.” It's one of my favorite songs of all time, and it's from the perspective of this older man who has lived a life full of regret, and he's kind of taking stock of that regret. So, I thought, "This is something that people I am a huge fan of have done. This would be fun to kind of take this for a spin."

What are your favorite William Bowery conspiracies? I love them all individually and equally. I love all the conspiracy theories around this album. [With] "Betty," Jack Antonoff would text me these articles and think pieces and in-depth Tumblr posts on what this love triangle meant to the person who had listened to it. And that's exactly what I was hoping would happen with this album. I wrote these stories for a specific reason and from a specific place about specific people that I imagined, but I wanted that to all change given who was listening to it. And I wanted it to start out as mine and become other people's. It's been really fun to watch.

One of the other unique things about Folklore — the parameters around it were completely different from anything you'd done. There was no long roll out, no stadium-sized pop anthems, no aiming for the radio-friendly single. How fearful were you in avoiding what had worked in the past? I didn't think about any of that for the very first time. And a lot of this album was kind of distilled down to the purest version of what the story is. Songwriting on this album is exactly the way that I would write if I considered nothing else other than, "What words do I want to write? What stories do I want to tell? What melodies do I want to sing? What production is essential to tell those stories?" It was a very do-it-yourself experience. My management team, we created absolutely everything in advance — every lyric video, every individual album package. And then we called our label a week in advance and said, "Here's what we have.” The photo shoot was me and the photographer walking out into a field. I'd done my hair and makeup and brought some nightgowns. These experiences I was used to having with 100 people on set, commanding alongside other people in a very committee fashion — all of a sudden it was me and a photographer, or me and my DP. It was a new challenge, because I love collaboration. But there's something really fun about knowing what you can do if it's just you doing it.

Did you find it freeing? I did. Every project involves different levels of collaboration, because on other albums there are things that my stylist will think of that I never would've thought of. But if I had all those people on the photo shoot, I would've had to have them quarantine away from their families for weeks on end, and I would've had to ask things of them that I didn't think were fair if I could figure out a way to do it [myself]. I had this idea for the [Folklore album cover] that it would be this girl sleepwalking through the forest in a nightgown in 1830 [laughs]. Very specific. A pioneer woman sleepwalking at night. I made a moodboard and sent it to Beth [Garrabrant], who I had never worked with before, who shoots only on film. We were just carrying bags across a field and putting the bags of film down, and then taking pictures. It was a blast.

Folklore includes plenty of intimate acoustic echoes to what you've done in the past. But there are also a lot of new sonics here, too — these quiet, powerful, intricately layered harmonics. What was it like to receive the music from Aaron and try to write lyrics on top of it? Well, Aaron is one of the most effortlessly prolific creators I've ever worked with. It's really mind-blowing. And every time I've spoken to an artist since this whole process [began], I said, "You need to work with him. It'll change the way you create." He would send me these — he calls them sketches, but it's basically an instrumental track. the second day — the day after I texted him and said, "Hey, would you ever want to work together?" — he sent me this file of probably 30 of these instrumentals and every single one of them was one of the most interesting, exciting things I had ever heard. Music can be beautiful, but it can be lacking that evocative nature. There was something about everything he created that is an immediate image in my head or melody that I came up with. So much so that I'd start writing as soon as I heard a new one. And oftentimes what I would send back would inspire him to make more instrumentals and then send me that one. And then I wrote the song and it started to shape the project, form-fitted and customized to what we wanted to do.

Was it nice to be able to keep it a secret? Well, it felt like it was only my thing. It felt like such an inner world I was escaping to every day that it almost didn't feel like an album. Because I wasn't making a song and finishing it and going, "Oh my God, that is catchy.” I wasn't making these things with any purpose in mind. And so it was almost like having it just be mine was this really sweet, nice, pure part of the world as everything else in the world was burning and crashing and feeling this sickness and sadness. I almost didn't process it as an album. This was just my daydream space.

Does it still feel like that? Yeah, because I love it so much. I have this weird thing that I do when I create something where in order to create the next thing I kind of, in my head, attack the previous thing. I don't love that I do that but it is the thing that has kept me pivoting to another world every time I make an album. But with this one, I just still love it. I'm so proud of it. And so that feels very foreign to me. That doesn't feel like a normal experience that I've had with releasing albums.

When did you first learn about Rebekah Harkness? Oh, I learned about her as soon as I was being walked through [her former Rhode Island] home. I got the house when I was in my early twenties as a place for my family to congregate and be together. I was told about her, I think, by the real estate agent who was walking us through the property. And as soon as I found out about her, I wanted to know everything I could. So I started reading. I found her so interesting. And then as more parallels began to develop between our two lives — being the lady that lives in that house on the hill that everybody gets to gossip about — I was always looking for an opportunity to write about her. And I finally found it.

I love that you break the fourth wall in the song. Did you go in thinking you’d include yourself in the story? I think that in my head, I always wanted to do a country music, standard narrative device, which is: the first verse you sing about someone else, the second verse you sing about someone else who's even closer to you, and then in the third verse, you go, "Surprise! It was me.” You bring it personal for the last verse. And I'd always thought that if I were to tell that story, I would want to include the similarities — our lives or our reputations or our scandals.

How often did you regale friends about the history of Rebekah and Holiday House while hanging out at Holiday House? Anyone who's been there before knows that I do “The Tour,” in quotes, where I show everyone through the house. And I tell them different anecdotes about each room, because I've done that much research on this house and this woman. So in every single room, there's a different anecdote about Rebekah Harkness. If you have a mixed group of people who've been there before and people who haven't, [the people who’ve been there] are like, "Oh, she's going to do the tour. She's got to tell you the story about how the ballerinas used to practice on the lawn.” And they'll go get a drink and skip it because it's the same every time. But for me, I'm telling the story with the same electric enthusiasm, because it's just endlessly entertaining to me that this fabulous woman lived there. She just did whatever she wanted.

There are a handful of songs on Folklore that feel like pretty clear nods to your personal life over the last year, including your relationships with Scott Borchetta and Scooter Braun. How long did it take to crystallize the feelings you had around both of them into “My Tears Ricochet” or “Mad Woman”? I found myself being very triggered by any stories, movies, or narratives revolving around divorce, which felt weird because I haven't experienced it directly. There’s no reason it should cause me so much pain, but all of a sudden it felt like something I had been through. I think that happens any time you've been in a 15-year relationship and it ends in a messy, upsetting way. So I wrote “My Tears Ricochet” and I was using a lot of imagery that I had conjured up while comparing a relationship ending to when people end an actual marriage. All of a sudden this person that you trusted more than anyone in the world is the person that can hurt you the worst. Then all of a sudden the things that you have been through together, hurt. All of a sudden, the person who was your best friend is now your biggest nemesis, etc. etc. etc. I think I wrote some of the first lyrics to that song after watching Marriage Story and hearing about when marriages go wrong and end in such a catastrophic way. So these songs are in some ways imaginary, in some ways not, and in some ways both.

How did it feel to drop an F-bomb on "Mad Woman"? F---ing fantastic.

And that’s the first time you ever recorded one on a record, right? Yeah. Every rule book was thrown out. I always had these rules in my head and one of them was, You haven't done this before, so you can't ever do this. “Well, you've never had an explicit sticker, so you can't ever have an explicit sticker.” But that was one of the times where I felt like you need to follow the language and you need to follow the storyline. And if the storyline and the language match up and you end up saying the F-word, just go for it. I wasn't adhering to any of the guidelines that I had placed on myself. I decided to just make what I wanted to make. And I'm really happy that the fans were stoked about that because I think they could feel that. I'm not blaming anyone else for me restricting myself in the past. That was all, I guess, making what I want to make. I think my fans could feel that I opened the gate and ran out of the pasture for the first time, which I'm glad they picked up on because they're very intuitive.

Let’s talk about “Epiphany.” The first verse is a nod to your grandfather, Dean, who fought in World War II. What does his story mean to you personally? I wanted to write about him for awhile. He died when I was very young, but my dad would always tell this story that the only thing that his dad would ever say about the war was when somebody would ask him, "Why do you have such a positive outlook on life?" My grandfather would reply, "Well, I'm not supposed to be here. I shouldn't be here." My dad and his brothers always kind of imagined that what he had experienced was really awful and traumatic and that he'd seen a lot of terrible things. So when they did research, they learned that he had fought at the Battles of Guadalcanal, at Cape Gloucester, at Talasea, at Okinawa. He had seen a lot of heavy fire and casualties — all of the things that nightmares are made of. He was one of the first people to sign up for the war. But you know, these are things that you can only imagine that a lot of people in that generation didn't speak about because, a) they didn't want people that they came home to to worry about them, and b) it just was so bad that it was the actual definition of unspeakable.

That theme continues in the next verse, which is a pretty overt nod to what’s been happening during COVID. As someone who lives in Nashville, how difficult has it been to see folks on Lower Broadway crowding the bars without masks? I mean, you just immediately think of the health workers who are putting their lives on the line — and oftentimes losing their lives. If they make it out of this, if they see the other side of it, there's going to be a lot of trauma that comes with that; there's going to be things that they witnessed that they will never be able to un-see. And that was the connection that I drew. I did a lot of research on my grandfather in the beginning of quarantine, and it hit me very quickly that we've got a version of that trauma happening right now in our hospitals. God, you hope people would respect it and would understand that going out for a night isn't worth the ripple effect that it causes. But obviously we're seeing that a lot of people don't seem to have their eyes open to that — or if they do, a lot of people don't care, which is upsetting.

You had the Lover Fest East and West scheduled this year. How hard has it been to both not perform for your fans this year, and see the music industry at large go through such a brutal change? It's confusing. It's hard to watch. I think that maybe me wanting to make as much music as possible during this time was a way for me to feel like I could reach out my hand and touch my fans, even if I couldn't physically reach out or take a picture with them. We've had a lot of different, amazing, fun, sort of underground traditions we've built over the years that involve a lot of human interaction, and so I have no idea what's going to happen with touring; none of us do. And that's a scary thing. You can't look to somebody in the music industry who's been around a long time, or an expert touring manager or promoter and [ask] what's going to happen and have them give you an answer. I think we're all just trying to keep our eyes on the horizon and see what it looks like. So we're just kind of sitting tight and trying to take care of whatever creative spark might exist and trying to figure out how to reach our fans in other ways, because we just can't do that right now.

When you are able to perform again, do you have plans on resurfacing a Lover Fest-type event? I don't know what incarnation it'll take and I really would need to sit down and think about it for a good solid couple of months before I figured out the answer. Because whatever we do, I want it to be something that is thoughtful and will make the fans happy and I hope I can achieve that. I'm going to try really hard to.

In addition to recording an album, you spent this year supporting Joe Biden and Kamala Harris in the election. Where were you when it was called in their favor? Well, when the results were coming in, I was actually at the property where we shot the Entertainment Weekly cover. I was hanging out with my photographer friend, Beth, and the wonderful couple that owned the farm where we [were]. And we realized really early into the night that we weren't going to get an accurate picture of the results. Then, a couple of days later, I was on a video shoot, but I was directing, and I was standing there with my face shield and mask on next to my director of photography, Rodrigo Prieto. And I just remember a news alert coming up on my phone that said, "Biden is our next president. He's won the election." And I showed it to Rodrigo and he said, "I'm always going to remember the moment that we learned this." And I looked around, and people's face shields were starting to fog up because a lot of people were really misty-eyed and emotional, and it was not loud. It wasn't popping bottles of champagne. It was this moment of quiet, cautious elation and relief.

Do you ever think about what Folklore would have sounded like if you, Aaron, and Jack had been in the same room? I think about it all the time. I think that a lot of what has happened with the album has to do with us all being in a collective emotional place. Obviously everybody's lives have different complexities and whatnot, but I think most of us were feeling really shaken up and really out of place and confused and in need of something comforting all at the same time. And for me, that thing that was comforting was making music that felt sort of like I was trying to hug my fans through the speakers. That was truly my intent. Just trying to hug them when I can't hug them.

I wanted to talk about some of the lyrics on Folklore. One of my favorite pieces of wordplay is in “August”: that flip of "sipped away like a bottle of wine/slipped away like a moment in time.” Was there an "aha moment" for you while writing that? I was really excited about "August slipped away into a moment of time/August sipped away like a bottle of wine." That was a song where Jack sent me the instrumental and I wrote the song pretty much on the spot; it just was an intuitive thing. And that was actually the first song that I wrote of the "Betty" triangle. So the Betty songs are "August," "Cardigan," and "Betty." "August" was actually the first one, which is strange because it's the song from the other girl's perspective.

Yeah, I assumed you wrote "Cardigan" first. It would be safe to assume that "Cardigan" would be first, but it wasn't. It was very strange how it happened, but it kind of pieced together one song at a time, starting with "August," where I kind of wanted to explore the element of This is from the perspective of a girl who was having her first brush with love. And then all of a sudden she's treated like she's the other girl, because there was another situation that had already been in place, but "August" girl thought she was really falling in love. It kind of explores the idea of the undefined relationship. As humans, we're all encouraged to just be cool and just let it happen, and don't ask what the relationship is — Are we exclusive? But if you are chill about it, especially when you're young, you learn the very hard lesson that if you don't define something, oftentimes they can gaslight you into thinking it was nothing at all, and that it never happened. And how do you mourn the loss of something once it ends, if you're being made to believe that it never happened at all?

On the flip side, "Peace" is bit more defined in terms of how one approaches a relationship. There's this really striking line, "The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me/Would it be enough if I can never give you peace?" How did that line come to you? I'm really proud of that one too. I heard the track immediately. Aaron sent it to me, and it had this immediate sense of serenity running through it. The first word that popped into my head was peace, but I thought that it would be too on-the-nose to sing about being calm, or to sing about serenity, or to sing about finding peace with someone. Because you have this very conflicted, very dramatic conflict-written lyric paired with this very, very calming sound of the instrumental. But, "The devil's in the details," is one of those phrases that I've written down over the years. That's a common phrase that is used in the English language every day. And I just thought it sounded really cool because of the D, D sound. And I thought, "I'll hang onto those in a list, and then, I'll finally find the right place for them in a story." I think that's how a lot of people feel where it's like, "Yeah, the devil's in the details. Everybody's complex when you look under the hood of the car." But basically saying, "I'm there for you if you want that, if this complexity is what you want."

There's another clever turn of phrase on "This is Me Trying." "I didn't know if you'd care if I came back/I have a lot of regrets about that." That feels like a nod toward your fans, and some of the feelings you had about retreating from the public sphere. Absolutely. I think I was writing from three different characters' perspectives, one who's going through that; I was channeling the emotions I was feeling in 2016, 2017, where I just felt like I was worth absolutely nothing. And then, the second verse is about dealing with addiction and issues with struggling every day. And every second of the day, you're trying not to fall into old patterns, and nobody around you can see that, and no one gives you credit for it. And then, the third verse, I was thinking, what would the National do? What lyric would Matt Berninger write? What chords would the National play? And it's funny because I've since played this song for Aaron, and he's like, "That's not what we would've done at all." He's like, "I love that song, but that's totally different than what we would've done with it."

When we last spoke, in April 2019, we were talking about albums we were listening to at the time and you professed your love for the National and I Am Easy to Find. Two months later, you met up with Aaron at their concert, and now, we're here talking about the National again. Yeah, I was at the show where they were playing through I Am Easy to Find. What I loved about [that album] was they had female vocalists singing from female perspectives, and that triggered and fired something in me where I thought, "I've got to play with different perspectives because that is so intriguing when you hear a female perspective come in from a band where you're used to only hearing a male perspective." It just sparked something in me. And obviously, you mentioning the National is the reason why Folklore came to be. So, thank you for that, Alex.

I'm here for all of your songwriting muse needs in the future. I can't wait to see what comes out of this interview.

*** For more on our Entertainers of the Year and Best & Worst of 2020, order the January issue of Entertainment Weekly or find it on newsstands beginning Dec. 18. (You can also pick up the full set of six covers here.) Don’t forget to subscribe for more exclusive interviews and photos, only in EW.

#taylor swift #interview #entertainment weekly #folklore album #folklore era #video

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theauthorunicorn · 5 years ago

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She’s Back Part 2 | Evan Buckley

Read Part 1 here

Prompt: During the operation at the train wreck the reader met Abby and saw her with Evan but she doesn’t know why she’s even back.

“I mean, if I could just take a week off Captain that will be good.” it’s been three days passed since the train incident and I’m just tired ignoring Buck for a while now. He wanted to reason everything out but I think I’m not ready to hear him after knowing that they both met the day after the incident.

“A week off now? Earlier you keep asking me to transfer you to another shift? What’s wrong Y/N?” Bobby asked eyes furrowed.

I sighed in annoyance, “I don’t know, I’m kinda tired and -” I can see Buck in my peripheral vision listening to us, “I wanted to try other things or stuff. I really don’t know Cap and this answer usually could grant a week off though.”

“Who’s having a week off?” Eddie interrupted.

“Me. I’m asking a week off, okay?”

“Why?” he asked confusingly.

“I don’t know or probably I’m gonna fly to Europe and explore somethings or even go to London and see what are they up to.” I told them. I can see Buck’s annoyance in my answers and I don’t care.

“Please, grant me those. I needed this time off.” I begged to Captain Nash.

And oh if you’re wondering by the way the “I need to tell you something” by Buck was never happened because I try my very best not to talk to him or even be at the same room with him.

“I’ll go check if you can Y/N. I’ll let you know after the shift.” Captain Nash assured.

*****

“Thank you so much.” I hugged Bobby as he informed me that I could have five days off and that’s the best that he could do.

It was raining hard as soon as our shift ended and unfortunately my car was still in the shop because of engine problem. I grabbed my umbrella in the locker and booked an Uber home.

“You’re gonna Uber home?” Eddie asked as he passed me.

“Uhm,” I locked my phone, “My car was in shop, engine problems.”

“I could just swing you at your apartment this rain isn’t gonna stop soon.” Eddie offered.

“We live in the opposite side so ‘swing you home’ is not efficient.” I said as I declined his offer.

“Okay, I just want someone to hear this conversation so he could drop you home and talk whatever is going on to both off you.” He winked at me as he walk towards the door.

I checked my Uber and no one has ever picked my booking.

I walk toward the door and thought that it would be a perfect spot to wait for a cab since it’s impossible to get an Uber at this time.

It’s twenty minutes passed and no cab even passed by. I keep myself entertained over my colleagues who will start their shift after us catching up.

Then, a black Jeep stopped in front of us, I sighed to know at that very second who it was. Buck rolled his passenger side window and shouted, “Hey. Y/N it’s impossible to get a cab now, I’ll just drop you home.”

Maria, a friend of ours had this confusion then proceeded to ask me, "Buck is here, I don't know why you're still waiting for a cab? You two are basically a couple without being in a formal relationship?" I rolled my eyes to her.

"Am I right, Buck?" She shouted over Buck even though he didn't know what are we talking about.

He nodded and shouted back at me, "Y/N, get in the car."

"As if I have a choice." I mumbled as I walk over the Jeep.

I said my goodbye to Maria and she's happily teasing the me and Buck. I don't know why people kept seeing us so compatible to each other because right now, I can't even see it.

I stand in passenger side of his Jeep, "Hey, thank you for doing this, I don't even know that you're still in the station at this time." He smiled and God forbid those smiles. "Can you open up the back, I could just sit over there." I pointed it because I'm refusing to seat beside him.

He looked over at his back, "It's kinda messy over there, I got my stuff for the gym earlier. It'll be better if you'll seat over here." He pointed at the passenger side.

"I think I can do that," he smiled again, "I mean, I can sit at the back."

"It's really messy in there Y/N. I wished I cleaned it up before passing you here because I would if I just know that you'll be here. And it's pouring hard so you better get inside." He opened the door and a backed away. I climbed over the passenger side to settle this little argument.

"Where can I put my umbrella? It's literally dripping." I asked him.

He points at his back seat and it's really messy. "Put it in the back."

He started driving away from the station, he offered me a bag of Cheetos and even if I wanted some I declined his offer. Buck started casual talk but it really ends up in my yes, no or maybe.

"Do you still have grocery at your home? Because the last time I was there it was almost empty."

Well, he's not wrong. He spend a night in my apartment four days ago as we watch The Office again.

"I still have some. I'll probably just order a takeaway tonight." I said in a monotone voice.

Then, it's a dead silent. It felt like five minutes before he start speaking again.

"I heard you're gonna have a five day off, where are you going? Are you gonna visit your parents in New York?" He asked as if he dropped a million dollar question.

"No and not to be rude, Buck. It's none of your business." I put my airpods in my ear to shut whatever he's gonna talk.

He sighed deeply as he saw me doing that. I kept my head leaned over the window watching the raindrops race over the end.

*****

He parked his car adjacent to the door, I settled myself before opening it. I put my phone and airpods at my bag, "Thank you so much for driving me home, Buck and I'm sorry that I'm mean earlier I'm just not in the mood."

"It's Evan and it's okay I understand, Y/N."

I opened the door and hop out, "Drive safe." Usually it followed set of words, 'call or text me when you're home.'

And he usually answers, "Yeah, I'll text you when I'm home." and he does this time out of habit even if I didn't ask for it.

*****

I had different shifts from Buck after that day he dropped me home, he also did text me that he arrived home safely that night but I didn't reply, I left him on read. And fun fact I'm flying over London tonight for my mini vacation.

"So, London, huh?" Maria asked me as I settled my things I had the night shift the past few days so I had the chance to hangout with Maria.

"Yeah. It'll be good." I said in British accent. I tied my hair into pony tail before grabbing my things.

"I hope you have a wonderful vacation over there dearie."

"Yeah, I will." I walked over my car unlock it from a far when someone grabbed my free hand.

"Hey, I got you coffee to compensate your all nighter duty." Buck said as he handed me a venti Starbucks cup. "It's Vanilla Latte." He smiled.

"Thank you." I said confusingly. He's acting weird like he normally fo everyday.

"You're welcome and actually if you can remember I want to grab something with you so I can say something to you. Maybe right now, like breakfast?" Buck asked as if we're actually okay and its making me mad.

"No, I have something to do today." I replied plainly.

"Something much more better than me, mmm, Y/N." He said playfully.

"Buck, stop this."

"Evan, call me Evan." He insisted.

"I'll be flying to London tonight and I need to pack up my things, I'm sorry if I can't. And please stop acting that we're okay because we both know that we're not, Buck."

And now, he's totally angry. "I want to talk to you so bad because I want to explain things and after all you're gonna leave like what Abby did to me. It felt like everyone is leaving me, Y/N and you're the last person I expected to do that."

It felt like I'm burning up, I catch my breath before answering him, "I'm not like Abby, Evan. Okay. Don't compare me to her. That's it, get over it. Get over her. Find yourself and I'll go figure out what the hell is happening with me in London. I needed this time off so you don't have the right to tell me those words you said to me."

I opened my car and threw my bag at the back as I settled the coffee in the cup holder. He held the door to keep it open, "I'm sorry Y/N. I didn't mean it."

*****

I'm at the airport right now waiting my flight to board.

"All passengers from BA 798 bound to London this is your pre-boarding announcement -"

"Y/N!" Someone called my name, panting. I looked around to see Evan catching his breathe. "I'm glad I still catch you here." He hugged me tightly.

"Is everything okay? I mean how can you be at this area if you don't have a ticket." I asked him.

"I bought a ticket for Kansas tonight and I’m not even flying there just to pass through because I need to tell you something before you go." He uttered those familiar words.

"I know I fucked up that I didn't get over to what I felt with Abby because I kept a promise to wait for her but when you came into my life it drifted away but I'm not gonna lie as soon as I saw her that night it all came back even if I didn't want to because I'm finally happy. I saw pain in your eyes when you both saw us and it felt like I personally planted a knife in your heart to have those look in your eyes. I wanted to pause everything at that time to explain things to you but I couldn't they needed our help. Then, the day after the incident you avoided me, I thought it might be a temporary thing but it didn't. Yes, I met her that day also too, so I could settle whatever is left in here for her" he pointed in his heart. "And when you heard that we agreed to see each other that day, I see the pain doubled in your eyes. Abby, went here with his fiance to tell her relatives that they're going to get married in June, I met Sam too, her fiance I actually saved him at the incident, I may be lying if I'll say now that I wasn't hurt when she say that she'll be married but I did a little, then, I think about you Y/N. I think about everything that we had for the past year and especially the last few days before you start ignoring me," he giggled, "it's much more special and wonderful than what I had with Abby and it was so wrong to compare you to her this morning and again, I'm sorry."

"At this time we invite our business class customers to board the aircraft." The boarding gate agent announced and I hesitantly looked at my watch to check what time it is.

"I'm actually called?" I told him.

"Please stay for a while, I'll finish this up in a minute or two." I nodded.

"Because of the situation we didn't actually do as what we planned that night grab a breakfast or something and me telling you something and right now, you're going to London and I couldn't afford to have those five days passed away from you without knowing this, I love you Y/N more than anything. You mean the world to me and if I could just fly with you tonight I would but I can't, Captain said we will be short staffed. So, yeah, I love you and I want to spend my days with you annoying you, loving you and caring for you."

When he finished saying those words, I teared up and hugged him tightly as I savor those words in my head.

"All passengers for BA 798 bound to London kindly board your flight now at gate 22."

"Hey, I think you're being called for your flight."

"They can wait, I'm a business class passenger." I said to him. He laughed as we still hug each other. "And I love you too, Evan."

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when-he-writes-stuff · 5 years ago

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I Will Love You (For a Thousand Years)

pairing: sterek

wc: 5495

notes: a ko-fi commission the lovely @ice-mage containing accidental marriage, a forgotten proposal, and all around adorable idiocy

Okay, first of all, Stiles would like to say that he didn’t forget to propose on purpose.

He’d had it all planned out.

Stiles had kicked all of the betas out of the Hale house and rigged up the back porch with hanging lights. He’d made Allison come over and help him with dinner because for some reason the female hunter had some mad cooking skills when it came down to things.

Hell, he’d even swung by the Beacon Hills favorite bakery and picked up some of those brownies that Derek claimed to hate but was secretly a sucker for.

And Stiles would like to say things had gone spectacularly. Just… maybe a little too spectacularly.

Because at the end of the night after Derek had given him a death glare regarding the brownies, they’d proceeded to make out on the back porch and then things had… heated up. Stiles had totally planned on proposing when the moon was full and the dessert was eaten, but he hadn’t accounted for Derek offering to make other uses of the chocolate syrup. And Stiles was more than willing to admit that when it came down to the man and his shirtless body, Stiles had no more room left to think straight.

Literally.

Which might have been how he woke up the next morning after mindblowing sex having completely forgotten he hadn’t proposed. For all that he could remember, things had gone great. No, things had gone spectacularly.

Stiles was a mad genius and he’d hit his peak multiple times to prove it.

He decided to get started on the wedding plans right away the next morning. Derek was in the kitchen wearing only his boxes when Stiles plodded into the room and he felt like that was completely unfair. If he wasn’t still half-dead to the world out of exhaustion, he might have gone for a round seven on the counter right there.

As if the werewolf could read his thoughts, the man turning around with a smug grin. Stiles rolled his eyes and grabbed the man’s mug of coffee, chugging half before dropping down on one of the stools in front of the counter.

“I have no brain today and I blame you.”

“Oh?”

“Stop looking so smug, Sexwolf. I still have to go to work and make plans, and now I’m going to be half-awake doing all of it.”

Derek raised a brow at him. Stiles rolled his eyes. “You could help you know.”

“Which plans?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I’m thinking about starting with flowers first. Lydia will be a giant help through this entire thing but you know, we can’t give her total control. Unless you’re fine with roses, wine, salmon, and possible doves, that is.”

Derek just gave him a flat look. Stiles groaned, burying his face in his arms.

“You’re going to make me do this all myself, aren’t you?”

“Sure, Stiles, whatever you say.”

“Just throw me a bone here, dude. What’s your favorite flower?”

Derek actually thought about that for a second, but not after giving Stiles another strange look. Then he shrugged and rolled back his shoulders, returning to his skillet of scrambled eggs. “Orchids. They used to be Laura’s favorite.”

Stiles felt his resolve soften. He smiled up at the werewolf through his arms and Derek’s ears turned red. He very pointedly didn’t meet Stiles’s eyes, flipping off the stovetop.

“Just don’t let Lydia do… whatever she’s doing. I don’t think I like it.”

“So you’re not a wine person. Noted.”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

“Care to make me, Sexwolf?”

The man gave him a flat look and gestured with the spatula. “Go get ready for work or I’ll never ‘make you’ do anything again.”

“Does that include laundry?”

“Work, Stiles, go.”

Stiles grinned and grabbed his gun and badge, before turning back toward the bedroom. He was pretty sure he could figure how to get orchids. Of course, he knew nothing about making wedding plans, but that’s what Lydia was for, wasn’t it? Stiles was going to adore her these next few months.

The next few months. Because he had proposed. He was getting married.

Stiles grinned brightly to himself.

See, the thing was, they couldn’t afford rings yet. As a result of Derek’s unfortunate life savings being the loft, the rebuilding of the Hale house last summer, and Stiles’s training to become a deputy under his dad’s line, that wasn’t really something they could afford right now.

But Stiles had prepared for last night by going over and over his lines. In fact, he’d said them so many times, it felt like he’d asked Derek to marry him more than once.

Even though last night got a little hazy after they’d taken out the expensive whiskey. And then there was everything that had happened after that, of course. Stiles decided he needed to invest in chocolate sauce more often.

The station was silent as Stiles wandered into it. The deputies were all watching him and his dad stood behind his desk, a cup of coffee in hand and a nervous expression on his face. Stiles kept his own expression neutral as he crossed the room, took the coffee cup from his dad and downed half of it.

The man’s face paled. Stiles lowered it again, wiped the back of his mouth, and then grinned.

“He said yes!”

Cheers rolled through the station. Stiles’s dad grinned and pulled him in close and Stiles made a startled noise before melting into the embrace. He smiled against his dad’s chest, heart warm.

“Thanks, pops.”

“You treat that boy right, okay, kid?”

“I don’t think Derek’s been a boy for a long time.”

The Sheriff pulled back and studied Stiles’s face. Stiles chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. The man’s face softened.

“I’m just saying. Take care of him.”

“Of course, dad. Always.”

“Good,” the man said, hugging him again. “And don’t worry, I’ll be telling Derek the same thing.”

“Don’t you dare!”

The Sheriff just laughed, grabbing one of the celebration— or possible comfort, if things had gone wrong— donuts off Stiles’s desk before heading toward his office. Stiles yelped and set his coffee down, stumbling after the man, but his dad didn’t even look back.

Things continued to go downhill from there.

See, Stiles had made a list. A Lydia Martin approved list that was sure to make Stiles stressed, Lydia proud, and Derek very tired. But Derek seemed completely at ease. One day turned into two, Stiles kept at it with the wedding plans, and Derek seemed to be the only one of them that wasn’t completely freaking out.

Stiles dropped onto the table across from him one coming weekend and nearly passed out right there. He was so tired. He was never having a wedding again.

Well, he supposed that was the plan.

“Tomorrow,” he said, blinking at Derek blearily. “We’re going cake tasting.”

Derek stopped eating his dinner and glanced up, raising an eyebrow. Stiles groaned, burying his face in his arms.

“Don’t give me that look, Sourwolf, and please don’t argue with me. I’m much too exhausted to come up with any good counterpoints right now.”

“You want to go cake tasting.”

“Yes.”

“Because…”

“Because I said so and I’ve been having cravings ever since this entire thing started. I think it’s the stress. Or maybe I just really want to eat cake.”

“I could make you a cake, Stiles.”

Stiles snorted. “I know. And I love you and your cakes, Sourwolf, but I’m looking for a professional. And don’t you get all offended or anything now. But the day is going to come quicker than you think and we’re both going to be too stressed to make a cake. It’ll be easier to have a professional do it.”

Derek was silent. When Stiles glanced up from his arms, the man was watching him with a completely blank expression. Stiles sighed.

“Please? For me?”

“... Fine.”

“You do love me!”

Derek snorted but Stiles continued to grin. He grabbed his notebook full of checklists and wandered out of the room, texting Lydia that little by little, they were getting things figured out. She seemed to be more stressed than the two of them and when Lydia Martin got stressed, everybody should fear for their lives.

He got a brisk “Good” as an answer and figured that was something, at least. Little by little, they were figuring this all out.

Come next morning, Stiles was more than ready to eat some cake. Derek still seemed to be in a dubious mood, but Stiles figured that was because he just lived off of protein powder and raw meat. The man claimed to hate brownies, dammit. Stiles was so going to make him eat cake for their freaking wedding.

The bakery was small and family-owned. They’d known the Stilinski family from the moment they’d moved into Beacon Hills, as Stiles’s dad was always trying to sneak down there and buy a dozen cookies or so. Stiles had to threaten to put up surveillance cameras of his own, which he was promptly told was illegal.

Whatever. Anything to keep his dad from eating sugar on his lunch breaks.

The woman already had two tables filled with cakes and Stiles honestly thought he could swoon. He jabbed Derek in the side and then pointed toward the cakes, his mouth watering. “Those, Derek. I want all of those.”

“You’re going to make yourself sick.”

“But Derek, look how delicious they look.”

“If you get a stomach ache, I don’t want to hear any complaining tonight.”

“You’re no fun. Margret! Can we eat?”

The woman laughed, pushing a plate into his hands. Stiles didn’t care that this wasn’t ‘fancy’ or ‘expensive’ or whatever. They were on a budget, this bakery had the best cakes Stiles had ever tasted, and he so planned on giving himself a stomach ache tonight.

Stiles worked through the equivalent of two cakes. Derek took modest bites even though Stiles caught his eyes practically roll into the back of his head when he took a bite of the devil’s food one. He grinned to himself.

“So, devil’s food, huh?”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

“I’m just saying,” Stiles said, grinning. “I’m totally okay with having a chocolate cake.”

“Having a chocolate cake? An entire one?”

“Uh… yeah? And I mean, sure, yeah, what even is white frosting on a chocolate cake but you know what? I’m flexible.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles grinned and leaned closer, tracing his fingers up the man’s chest, much to the burning red of Derek’s ears.

“You know I’m flexible.”

“Okay,” Derek said, shoving himself up. He gave Stiles a dark look and then offered Margret a polite smoke. “Thank you for the… cake. Stiles, I’ll be waiting outside.”

Stiles cackled as the man stalked out of the bakery, pushing himself up too. Margaret shook her head as Stiles turned toward her, a fond look dancing across her lips.

“You caught yourself a good one, Mischief.”

Stiles smiled warmly, glancing over his shoulder and back out the window. Derek had his hands stuffed into his pockets and Stiles could’ve sworn he could still see the red of the man’s ears.

“I did, didn’t I?”

“So, did you two decide?”

“Devil’s food,” Stiles said, looking over at the cakes. “He’s got a favorite.”

Margaret smiled and nodded. Giving her a quick hug, Stiles hurried out of the bakery and linked his arm through Derek’s, grinning brightly at the man. Derek just rolled his eyes, reaching over and rubbing a smudge of chocolate from the corner of Stiles’s lip. Stiles grinned brighter as the man dipped his thumb into his mouth and then smirked, pulling Stiles toward the Camaro.

“Come on, then. You can show me how flexible you are.”

A shiver ran down his spine and Stiles just laughed, letting Derek pull him along. Because yeah, he had caught himself a good one. He’d caught himself the best one. And everything was perfect.

Stiles just didn’t realize he hadn’t proposed yet.

So Stiles had flowers, a date, and nearly half of his list done. Lydia seemed happy, they had less than two months left, and Stiles had been working extra shifts to make up the money for the wedding rings. He was determined, dammit. And he was on a roll.

Peter, of all people, decided he would be taking care of the suits.

“I don’t trust you.”

Peter sighed, lounging on the couch and lowering his book. He peered across the room at Stiles, raising one eyebrow. “When did I get this reputation?”

“Do you really want me to go into detail?”

“Think of it like this, Stiles,” Peter said, leaning forward. “Would you rather deal with Derek going through hours of trying on suits, something that he hates, or would you rather he takes his frustrations out on his favorite uncle?”

Stiles bit down on his tongue, thinking about it for a second. Then, instead of answering, he slipped out his phone. Lydia had decreed that all decisions go through her and hell if Stiles wasn’t smart enough to know to listen to her before he did anything.

The woman answered in seconds.

“I’m working on getting the catering figured out, Stiles. What’s so important?”

“Peter wants to deal with the suits.”

Peter rolled his eyes from the couch and on the other side of the phone, Lydia was silent for a second. Then she sighed. “Does he have any experience? Is he going to mess this up?”

Stiles raised an eyebrow at Peter. He shrugged.

“I’m good.”

“He says he’s good.”

“Tell him if he does a single thing wrong, I’ll kill him for a second time.”

“She says—”

“I heard,” Peter said, returning to his book. Stiles frowned at the man for a moment before deciding to be honest, Peter could be the one to deal with Derek and suits. Not that Stiles didn’t appreciate Derek in suits, but the man was worse than a five year old when they went clothes shopping. Last time, Stiles had nearly brained himself on the nearest wall just because Derek had decided to turn his grumpiness level up to one hundred.

Lydia hung up and Stiles returned to the planning. He needed to talk to Derek about who he wanted to invite, he realized. The only thing Stiles was allowing was a plus one, but he was hoping they could keep it a small thing. A pack thing.

He mentioned that to Derek later. The man looked exhausted.

“Derek?”

“... Yes, Stiles.”

“Have you been sleeping?”

Derek gave him a flat look and Stiles smiled nervously. But the man just returned to his dinner, muttering something unintelligible, and Stiles wondered if the panic of it all had finally caught up to him. It’d be about time. Stiles had been running around in circles for four months now while Derek had seemed unfazed.

Not like Stiles wanted him to be freaked out or anything. Freaked out Derek wasn’t good for anyone. Freaked out Derek had been Derek the first couple of weeks he’d finally asked Stiles out, and Stiles had decided then he would be the one proposing to Derek.

He couldn’t handle the man having another breakdown. And he meant that in the best way possible.

“So,” Stiles said, resting his chin on his hands. “Back to the small gathering then. I was thinking like… just the pack and family?”

“Okay, Stiles,” Derek mumbled, poking at his dinner tiredly. Stiles smiled softly and pushed himself up, moving behind the man and tracing gentle fingers over the back of his neck. Derek made a soft whining noise at the back of his throat and leaned into the touch and Stiles grinned, moving his fingers up to trace through Derek’s hair.

“Don’t worry about it right now, big guy,” he said. “Come on, let’s get you to sleep?”

“Stiles?”

“MmmHm?”

“Love you.”

Stiles grinned and pressed a quick kiss to his temple, gently guiding Derek up. The man leaned against him as Stiles led him toward the bedroom, his chest growing warm. Because yeah, Stiles could figure these things out. He liked Derek relaxed. He liked the man at ease.

He loved it when everything around Derek was okay.

The weeks continued to stretch on and Stiles was practically giddy. Everything was going fine. They’d decided on having the ceremony behind the Hale house and Allison had promised to help with the decorations. Even the betas had stopped being pains in the asses in order to help and for once, Stiles could say he didn’t totally hate them.

Erica dragged him out suit shopping while Peter dealt with Derek. When Stiles came home that night, Derek seemed even more fidgety than usual and he offhandedly mentioned his uncle being an idiot and ‘messing in affairs that weren’t his own’ but Stiles just chalked that up to Peter being his usual creeperwolf self.

Then the day came that there was less than two weeks left and Stiles felt like he could’ve buzzed out of his skin. Derek didn’t seem to be around the loft as much, which Stiles was okay with. There was so much going on, the last thing he wanted to do was stress the man out.

He had decided to pick up the rings the day before the wedding. Because Stiles had nearly scraped together enough, despite his dad and Melissa saying they could put some money into the payment. Stiles was determined to earn it himself. This was the start of his new life— his and Derek’s. And he was going to start it out right.

Derek came to him one night with a jar of chocolate sauce, a small smile on his face, and Stiles could have melted. Because this was the man he was marrying, ladies and gentlemen. Mr. Derek Hale.

Derek seemed much more laidback after that. Stiles still felt like he was about to buzz out of his skin.

But then one night, with less than a week to go, Derek didn’t come back to the Hale house. He was gone all day, gone late in the night, and by morning, Stiles was still sleeping in a cold bed.

So he’d grabbed Scott, shoved him in the passenger side seat of his jeep, and had the boy sniff Derek out until Scott pointed him toward the cemetery. Then Stiles had kicked Scott right back out of the jeep, parked a few hundred yards away, and approached the man quietly.

To his surprise, Derek wasn’t standing in front of his parent’s graves or his sister’s. He was standing in front of the grave belonging to Stiles’s mom.

Stiles paused for a long moment, just staring. Quietly, Derek shifted from foot to foot.

“I never got to meet her.”

Stiles swallowed hard, stepping toward the man’s side. Derek regarded the grave mournfully, a strange look of vulnerableness on his face. Stiles swallowed hard. “She would’ve liked you.”

“Would she have?”

Stiles tilted his head, studying the man. Derek didn’t meet his gaze.

“Derek, she would’ve loved you.”

“I don’t know if that’s true,” Derek said softly. “I’ve done a lot of bad things in the past, Stiles.”

Stiles stared at the man in shock. His throat was slowly closing and panic creeped in a shiver up his spine. Because this wasn’t Derek’s way of stopping the wedding, was it? This wasn’t him getting cold feet? Stiles took the man’s hand and Derek still avoided his gaze, brows knitted together.

“Derek, I love you. That’s all that matters.”

“Everyone that’s ever been around me has gotten hurt, Stiles.”

It hit him like a blow to the chest. Stiles nodded and carefully let go of Derek’s hands. The man made a soft whining noise and instead, Stiles reached up, touching his chin. He carefully guided Derek to face him and then leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against his lips.

“Derek, I love you. You’re mine, remember?”

“Yours.”

“Yeah, big guy,” Stiles said quietly. “And I’m yours.”

“Mine.”

Derek’s eyes were closed when he pulled back. As if he was holding onto each word. Stiles swallowed nervously, tracing gentle fingers over the man’s cheek and brushing the pad of his thumb over his lower lip.

“I love you, Derek.”

Grey-green eyes fluttered open. Derek looked at him for a long moment and then moved forward, catching Stiles’s lips with his own again. A hand tangled through his hair, pulling him closer, and Stiles grinned softly.

They stayed there until the sun had fallen over the tips of the trees. Then slowly, Stiles led Derek back to his jeep and kissed the man one more time before moving around toward the driver's side. He paused for one more moment though, glancing back out at the graveyard.

“You’d love him, mom.”

The long and still silence was his answer. Stiles smiled softly though, climbing into the car.

Derek’s eyes were fixed out the window the entire ride home.

Stiles liked to watch Derek when he was sleeping. Not in a creepy way— oh my god— but the man’s face was always softer when he slept. He looked years younger, as if nothing from the past had ever happened. Stiles would trace his fingers over the man’s face and just quietly wonder.

Wonder if he would ever see Derek like that when he was awake. Wonder what Derek would look like if some of the things that had happened, hadn’t.

Stiles would wonder if he’d ever be enough to make those lines go away.

Tonight was no different. Stiles rolled onto his side, looking at Derek’s face half-buried in the pillow. More than anything, he wished he could ease that slight crease between his eyes. Stiles wished he could fix the way Derek’s fists would clench into the sheets, he’d make soft noises underneath his breath, and sometimes wake up with sweat on his neck and chest.

Stiles hoped that one day, he could fix all of that. He could make all the pain go away.

Grey-green eyes slowly flicked open. Stiles instantly closed his own, trying to calm his breaths, and then Derek’s huffing breaths warmed his face.

“You’re doing it again.”

Stiles didn’t move. Barely breathed. Derek sighed.

“Stiles.”

“... I’m not doing anything again.”

“Yes, you are.”

“What?”

“That creepy thing you do when you watch me sleep.”

Stiles’s eyes snapped back open and he glared at the man. Derek grinned, looking smug, and Stiles frowned even harder. “I don’t do creepy things, Sourwolf. That’s all you and your window stalking.”

“I haven’t done that in years.”

“That’s because we’ve been together for years.”

Derek’s face softened. “Yeah,” he said softly, searching Stiles’s face. “I guess we have.”

“It’s not creepy.”

“Sure, Stiles.”

“It’s sweet and you better love me for it.”

“I do love you,” Derek said, a strange note to his voice that Stiles couldn’t catch. The man’s face was suddenly unreadable and Stiles’s breaths caught in his throat. “If I asked you something, Stiles…”

“Yes, I did have onion rings before bed, shut up.”

Derek rolled his eyes and the expression on his face faded. Suddenly, he was the Derek that Stiles knew again. Grinning brightly, Stiles leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the man’s nose.

“Now go to sleep. We have a big day this weekend.”

“We do?”

“Shut up, you’re not funny.”

“For once, I’m not trying to be funny.”

Stiles just rolled his eyes, burying his face in Derek’s neck. The man made a rumbling noise at the back of his throat and didn’t say anything else, arms wrapped around Stiles’s shoulders and pulling him closer. And Stiles… Stiles was okay with all of this. Stiles was content.

Three more days and he could finally call Derek his own.

His own Sourwolf.

“That’s not the right seating, Vernon!”

Stiles watched from the bedroom, peeking around the door every time Lydia yelled. He was pretty sure no one in the pack had ever called Boyd ‘Vernon’ but watching the beta’s expression go through a dozen emotions and Erica double over in laughter was totally worth it.

Normally, Stiles would be doubling over too. But he had a different problem.

Derek had left this morning and not come back.

Now, Stiles didn’t think Derek was the type to skip out on his own wedding. But if something had happened— if the man had freaked out— or Stiles had done something wrong? Maybe he finally had that breakdown. Maybe the last week at the cemetery had been a warning.

Maybe Stiles just wasn’t enough.

Scott had attempted to calm him down and Stiles had been pacing for the last hour. His dad had gone off to attempt and find the werewolf but so far, he didn’t seem to have had any luck. The Camaro was gone. Derek could be in a whole different state by now.

To say Stiles was panicking would be an understatement.

Every single time he thought about the fact that Derek had been missing for hours, he had another mini panic attack. Every single time he heard someone outside his bedroom door, he resisted the urge to crawl underneath the bed and curl up in a ball. To pretend that the rest of the world didn’t exist. That this day hadn’t happened.

Then Stiles’s pocket buzzed.

After a long moment, he fished out his phone and blinked at it. It was a message from Derek— and Stiles’s heart stopped.

It was a simple; Meet at your house. And Stiles was sure then that this was it. Derek had finally come to his senses and was going to turn him down.

Unable to make himself explain things to the rest of the pack, Stiles did the most logical thing. He pulled himself out of the window, all but dove into his jeep, and fled. He was pretty sure he could never come back. He could never face this house again.

Every single moment that he got closer to his house, Stiles felt his heart sinking more and more

By the time he was parked in front of his own house, looking silently at it, Stiles felt like his heart was about to be torn in two. He sat in the driver’s seat for a long moment and just stared. Just stared, feeling a little sick, his head spinning and his chest growing tighter and tighter with each breath.

Stiles had to force himself out of the car and up the driveway. And when the rest of the house was empty, he slowly plodded up the stairs into his own room.

Derek was waiting for him on his bed.

The man’s eyes flicked up the moment Stiles entered the room. His eyes searched Stiles up and down and he slowly stood, looking a little confused.

“You’re wearing a suit.”

“Yeah, dude.”

“It… looks good.”

“Derek,” Stiles said, his heart snapping. “Just get it over with, okay? Get it over with so I can leave. Please.”

The man stilled. His face dropped and the hand in his pocket slowly drew out. He moved closer, searching Stiles’s face, and then his eyes went over his suit again. “Am I missing something?”

“Missing something? Missing something? Dammit, Derek, you’re missing your own wedding!”

Derek froze. The concern melted from his face, replaced by confusion. Then the man’s eyes widened and he stared at Stiles for a long moment, before looking back at his suit. Then he stumbled away, sinking down onto the edge of the bed once more.

“Stiles, what?’

“Dammit, Derek, we’re supposed to get married in three hours! What the hell happened? Are you freaking out? Did you never plan to go through with it in the first place?”

Stiles could feel his eyes filling with tears but he didn’t care. He couldn’t— he couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t lose Derek.

“I love you,” Stiles said. “You’re mine, remember?”

The man just stared at him. Swallowing hard, Stiles nodded and slipped the rings out of his pocket, letting them fall to the floor.

“Sorry I’m not enough, Sourwolf.”

Stiles turned around to leave. And he would have. It would’ve been a dramatic exit that movies would’ve been proud of for years to come. Except then Derek was catching his arm and spinning him back around.

“Stiles,” Derek said, searching his face. “We’re not getting married.”

“I can see that, asshole.”

“No,” Derek said, slower this time. “You never asked me to get married. You never proposed, Stiles.”

Stiles stared at him. Then he barked a bitter laugh, trying to shove the man back and squirm loose. But Derek’s hold tightened. He caught Stiles’s other hand, pressing his fingers against the pulse point underneath his neck, and held his gaze.

“Stiles, listen to my heartbeat. You never proposed.”

Stiles faltered. His heart dropped into his shoes and another panicked laugh built up in his throat. “Yes, I did. Dammit, Derek, yes I did! That night with the brownies! The home cooked meal! The lights and the chocolate sauce, dammit!”

“You never proposed, Stiles.”

And suddenly, it hit him like a brick. That night. The food, the drink. Dancing to no music on the back porch and kissing underneath the moonlight. It had been perfect. Everything had been perfect.

Except Stiles had never proposed.

His knees buckled underneath him and he dropped to the floor, Derek barely catching his weight before he hit. The man slowly lowered him down, cupping Stiles’s chin and searching his face, but Stiles was officially gone to the world. His mind was blank.

He had forgotten to propose.

“Oh my god,” he said quietly. “We’re not getting married.”

“Stiles—”

“How the hell did you never figure things out, Derek? Dammit, I’ve been preparing this wedding for months!”

Derek’s face twisted. His ears turned red. Slowly, he dropped his gaze to the floor. “I thought it was a thing. I thought you were making hints.”

“Hints? Hints? Derek, you have a suit! Flowers! We went cake testing!”

“You always go over the top!”

“Because I love you!”

Derek stared at him for a long moment. Then his lips turned into a small smile and he reached into his pocket, digging out a small black box. When he flipped it open, there was a pair of silver rings inside. Stiles’s heart stopped.

“I was going to ask you to marry me, Stiles.”

“... In my bedroom?”

The man’s face turned darker red. “I thought it was romantic.”

“Dude, I used to jerk off in here!”

“That’s not something I ever needed to hear out loud.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, dropping his face against Derek’s shoulder. The man smelled like leather and pine. Clearly, he’d cleaned up for this. “Oh my god, that’s why you were freaking out all week. You had that breakdown.”

“Breakdown?”

“The one I was hoping to save you from.”

Derek pulled back, looking at him for a long moment. Then he shook his head and pushed Stiles up, staying on one knee. Slowly, he flipped the ring box back open, raising a brow.

“Stiles Stilinski—”

“No,” Stiles said in a whine. “I wanted to be the one to propose.”

“You already had your chance.”

“But dammit, Derek, I’ve been planning this for months!”

The man sighed and pushed himself to his feet. Shoving the ring box back into his pocket, he cupped Stiles’s face and looked down at him. “Stiles, will you marry me?”

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

“... Oh. Well, then I suppose I will too.”

Derek rolled his eyes and kissed Stiles hard. He tasted like mint, smelled even better, and Stiles all but melted into the man’s embrace. Because yeah, this was no back porch proposal with chocolate sauce or brownies, but… He could survive.

Stiles could be okay with this.

“No one can ever know,” he said, pulling back. Derek rolled his eyes.

“Of course not.”

“And… you’ll marry me.”

“Yes, Stiles.”

“Today? Like in three hours? Because I was pretty sure you skipped out on the wedding and maybe left town or something—”

Derek grabbed his tie and pulled him into a kiss again, effectively shutting him up. Stiles relaxed once more, feeling the man grin around his lips. “I do have a suit already, don’t I? Might as well put it to some good use.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Asshole.”

“Idiot.”

“Right back at you, Stupidwolf.”

“Fiancé.”

“Okay, that’s not fair.”

Derek just grinned and kissed him harder. And Stiles supposed that maybe— maybe— it was fair.

Just a little bit.

I have died everyday, waiting for you

Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more

- -

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your struggling student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

#teen wolf #sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #prompts #comission #idiots in love #all the fluff and humor #ice-mage

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horansqueen · 5 years ago

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You & Me : chapter 31

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4.3k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- notes: not many ppl give me feedbacks these days so idk if ppl are losing interest or just busy but yea, i miss it. also, i know i normally update every other day but most likely, my next chapter will be up sunday and not saturday because i have plans! thanks!

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : i changed them a bit to fit the story but i hope you like it!

Chapter 31 : His chapter

NIALL

I had everything packed for days but I had hidden all my stuff in a wardrobe, in my room. Still, my eyes always moved there by themselves as if i was dreading all of this. It was like that specific wardrobe was on fire and I had simply closed the door and ignored it. I didn't want to think about being away from her.

I had spent all my time with Olivia when I was not at rehearsal but I already missed her. I had no idea how tough it would be to be away from her for weeks but I knew it was going to be bad. We often ended up at my place just to cuddle and watch tv simply because it was easier and we didn't have to always check if we were papped or recognized. We also didn't have to stop ourselves from showing each other affection which was a good thing because I knew we'd have to restrain our impulses when she'd join me on tour.

I felt her foot run up my leg under the table and put my gaze back on her, making her smile as she held her glass of wine up.

"You're not listening to me, are you?"

My lips parted and she chuckled, taking a sip of her glass. It was her third one and I grabbed my own, tilting it a bit to make the dark liquid move as I looked at it.

"I'm sorry, pet, what were you saying?" I asked, looking up in her eyes as she sent me a sad smile.

"Just that I'm jealous you're going to Ireland." she pointed out. "And without me, too."

My heart ached at the thought and I moved closed on the table, leaning my elbows on it.

"Come with me. I want to start this tour with you."

Her eyes went soft and she tilted her head on the side, glancing down at her hand before looking up at me and I just knew she was going to refuse. I could also read in her eyes that she wanted to come, and that the answer she had to give me really hurt her.

"I can't. We start filming in 2 days. I have a scenes and I have to check the text and everything." she explained before sighing. "I wish I could come, though, I miss it."

I felt something twist in my heart but I was not sure if it was because she couldn't come with me or because she was about to spend time with her ex fiance. Perhaps it was a bit of both, and when I felt her foot move up my leg under the table again, I held my breath.

"So I hate to ask but, how do you feel about playing the girlfriend of the man you were supposed to marry?" I wondered, putting my glass back on the table and leaning against my chair.

Her eyes dropped to her plate and her foot moved away from my leg. The atmosphere felt heavy suddenly and I had the feeling that she didn't expect me to ask this question. It was our last dinner together and I had made sure I cooked something she loved, turn down the lights with the dimmer, bought her fave wine and put music in the background. But I was ruining it at the moment and it bothered me.

"I didn't know when I should tell you I just..." she sighed and looked up in my eyes, tilting her head. "I texted Dylan and I'm supposed to go for dinner with him tomorrow night, after you leave."

I put my fork back in my plate and frowned, pressing my lips together. "Should I worry?"

"No. But it's important that we have a good connection.. or at least that we don't hate each other." she explained with a shrug. "I want to know how he feels, and what he wants. I mean, I'm new to this business, but I want to make things right."

I reached for her hand and she looked up. I sent her a small smile and nodded. "Hey, I get it."

She licked her lips and squeezed my fingers, holding my hand and grabbing her glass with her other one. She took a sip and finally let go of my hand. It only took a minute until I felt her foot on my leg again and this time, the left corner of my lips moved up.

"You can't help it, can you?" I joked with a chuckle.

"Nop!" she replied with a smile. "I have to always touch you."

"What are you gonna do when I'll be away mm?"

This was meant as a joke but her smile fell and she shrugged. It suddenly made me think of all the nights I'd fall asleep without her, all the morning I wouldn't wake up holding her, all the meals I'd eat without her. I grimaced and shook my head.

"I keep ruining this evening over and over, don't I?"

"No, all your questions are legit." she just said in a soft tone, tilting her head on the side. "I don't know what I'll do when we'll be away. Hold my pillow against me and pretend it's you, perhaps."

"And when you're horny?" I asked with a smirk.

"Hump my pillow and pretend it's you." she replied quickly, making me laugh.

"I don't want to go." I let out in a whisper, making her raise her eyebrows. "I mean yea, I want to go out there and do music but, I can't stand to be away from you."

She stared at me with soft eyes and let out a chuckle but there was no amusement in her tone. It sounded more like sadness, or something that came close to nostalgia.

"It's true." I added, making her shake her head.

"No I know, I was just thinking... if you had never broken up with me, I would probably had followed you, you know? So we would be together. But at the same time, I'd still be that fragile, insecure person that depends on you and, I don't want that." she admitted with a small shrug. "I like who I've become, and I love my job. I don't want to be the kind of girlfriend who follows her boyfriend everywhere without having her own projects, her own life."

I held my breath and licked my lips. I knew what she meant, and I totally understood, but I didn't feel like I ever saw her as this dependent and fragile girl she was talking about. Was I just blind to it?

"I think you don't need someone who'll just follow you around. The times you were the most attracted to me were the times I didn't need you, the times I knew what I wanted, who I was and what I deserved. I mean, I know you love me because of who I am, but you were drawn to me more when I wasn't all over you."

No matter how hard I thought, I couldn't decide if she was right or wrong but if she was right, I really never did that on purpose, and I never even realized it.

"One time, when we were apart, I missed you so much and I couldn't handle it anymore. You had moved here, and I read on your web site that it was the premiere of your tv show." I admitted, shaking my head and looking down at my glass before quickly taking the last sip. "So I put clothes on, grabbed a cap, and went to the premiere."

I looked up only to see her frowning with her lips parted. I had all her attention and it made something stir in my stomach.

"I waited a few hours just to see you, and when I did, I just watched you pause for the cameras, flashes everywhere, and all that shit. You were with Dylan but I barely noticed him because you were literally glowing. I was seeing you happy. Very very happy. I remember trying to find a time where you were this happy with me. And I realized that you didn't need me anymore." I waited until she looked up in my eyes again to keep talking. "You've always been a strong and smart woman, but at that very specific moment, I knew I was not important anymore. You didn't need me, you didn't long for me anymore, and even if I tried to convince myself that you would always love me somehow, it was fucking tough."

There was a moment of a silence and she just pushed the air out of her lungs as a small smile appeared on her lips.

"That day I could swear I saw you, and... I thought I was hallucinating you. Black cap, white Nike shirt... I came to the conclusion that my mind was just playing tricks on me. I knew I was not over you but I was trying to move on and when I lost you in the crowd I decided you weren't really there." she chuckled again but her lips curled too. "It was really you."

"Yep, was me, i'm sorry."

She stared at me some more and slowly, her head tilted on the left and her lips curled more.

"You really never stopped loving me." she pointed out in a murmur, as if she was now realizing it, or believing it.

"Not a second, Olivia."

She teared up suddenly and I felt my heart break. I reached for her hands as she let tears fall down her cheeks. I didn't want this, I didn't want to make her cry, or hurt her, and here I was, doing exactly that. Again.

"I'm so sorry, Liv, please, I'm sorry." I repeated, my face twisting with pain. "Please, come here."

I pulled on her hands and she breathed in, getting up as I spread my legs to give her space. I felt the need to get her closer, to feel her body against mine and I just tapped my thigh, making her chuckle through her tears and shake her head.

"Sit down." I whispered, sending her a sad smile.

"No," she sniffed. "I'll crush you."

"Sit the fuck down."

She raised her eyebrows but her smile was still intact and she moved away to let me press my thighs together before sitting on me. One of her arms wrapped around my neck and she moved dangerously close, making my lips curl more. I could see every trait of her face, from the gold around her pupils to the little scar near her mouth from when we were kids and she fell off the stairs. She smelled amazing, the same mix of honey and vanilla I was used to, and I wrapped both my arms around her waist.

"Not too heavy?" she wondered, raising her eyebrows again and making me frown.

"Stop saying stupid things, will you?" I let out. "I know you gained weight, I know you hate it, and you need to know two things. First of, I love it. And second of, I'm a tank baby, you've never met a strong man like me."

This time, she started laughing, letting her head fall back as a long laughter boomed out of her open lips. Just watching her laugh made me happy and I let out a chuckle as I watched her. I pulled her closer and one of my hands ended on her thigh, making her look back at me.

"Be honest. Did you stop loving me, at some point?"

Her eyes roamed on my face and she moved closer again, kissing my upper lip very slowly. She was so soft and gentle all the time and I missed that in my life. I missed her touch and how tender and loving she was, especially with me. When she was not in my life anymore, all I could think about was that I missed her, but I also missed everything she did, everything she said, everything she was. It's the little things I missed the most and those things, she was giving them back to me. Slowly, and by little waves, but I was still getting samples from time to time. I was greedy, though, I wanted all of them, and right now, but I would wait for her. A lifetime or two, no doubt. Maybe even three.

"I hated you." she admitted in a murmur, her lips brushing against mine. I felt my heart shatter and swallowed a lump in my throat. "I hated you, I cursed you, I wished you wrong. I complained about you, I bitched about you, I cried and yelled about you."

I blinked a few times, trying to keep my emotions in. Even if I couldn't blame her, it felt like someone had stuck a knife in my stomach and was twisting it with each of her words. I kept quiet. I couldn't talk anyway, and she kept going.

"But not one second, I stopped loving you." she whispered, bringing her hand to my cheek and running her fingertips on my stubble before slipping them in my hair. "I've been in love with you for 20 years, Niall. I think after all this time, falling out of love is impossible. There's a point you reach that you just know, deep inside, that the love you feel is there to stay. I've reached that point. A long time ago."

"But you hated me." I argued in a breath before she sighed.

"Trust me, it's possible to hate and love someone at the same time. I hated you because I loved you so much."

I didn't even know if it made sense but I just nodded.

"I don't hate you now, Niall. I feel many many things for you but nothing negative, I promise."

She kissed my lips again and tugged at my hair very gently as her mouth traveled on my lips and jaw. I remained motionless, my hand burning on her thigh while she showed me affection, and with the way her hands and lips moved on me, I knew she was not lying. There was something special and unique in the softness of her touch that talked louder than a voice could, that explained better than words would.

It took me a few minutes to react but a bit roughly, I brought my hands to cup her face and kissed her harder. Her lips parted more to deepen the kiss and I moved closer to her, my hands now running on her back and her arms before I let one of my hands slip under her shirt. I wanted her so bad and it was so sudden that I could feel my whole body throb.

"I'm gonna miss you so fucking much, petal." I admitted low, allowing my lips to leave her briefly before crushing my mouth on hers again. "Let me make love to you, yea?"

I got up, making her do the same, and grabbed her waist, turning her around and pressing her against the windows behind her. I let my mouth move avidly to her neck as I started breathing harder. She took her shirt off and I did the same with mine, throwing it away before pressing my body against hers. One of her hands reached for my cock and she grabbed it over my pants as my lips moved to her breasts. I moved her straps down and pulled on her bra to expose her nipples and my lips wrapped around one immediately. I sucked on it, making her whimper low and finally let my mouth brush down to her stomach until I reached her pants, unzipping them quickly and helping her take them off. She stood there, only in her underwear, and I pulled the side of her panties away to press my lips against her pussy.

"Oh my god."

I grabbed one of her legs and moved it up, putting it on my back to hold it, and spread her lips more before slipping my tongue down on her slit until it was inside her and bringing it back up to her clit. I sucked on it for a while and felt her fingers pull on my hair. I got the hint and moved back up, unzipping my pants too and getting undressed as she stared at me, lips parted. I moved closer to her, feeling my dick rub on her thighs and she moved her leg around me again. I ground my hips against her a few times and when I felt my tip slip inside her, I let out a short groan.

"I want to make love to you, not fuck you for 5 stupid minutes and cum."

She laughed and smiled as I looked at her. She tilted her chin up to look in my eyes better and I searched for her hands, grabbing them and bringing them on the walls, on each sides of her head. She held them there and I slid my fingertips on the inside of her arms before reaching her palms and intertwining out fingers together. I pushed myself a bit deeper inside of her and she let out a low whimper, her eyes never leaving mine.

"I love you so much." I whispered. "I promise you'll never have to hate me. Ever again."

She nodded quickly and bit her bottom lip. "Okay."

I pushed myself completely inside her and felt my eyes flutter at the feeling.

"You feel incredible."

I brought my face closer and started thrusting in and out of her slowly but at a regular pace. My lips brushed against hers with every jerk and I didn't let go of her fingers. I felt her squeeze my hands harder and from time to time, she'd kiss my lips as I moved, or would let out a low moan.

"I love you. I love you, Olivia."

Her face twisted and I could swear she was about to cry. I pushed my body against hers more and kissed her lips a few times before kissing her deeper but still very slow. I didn't want her to cry, I wanted her to cum.

"N-Niall." she breathed out before I pulled away slightly and saw her shut her eyes tight. "Oh my god, I'm cum-"

She couldn't finish her sentence and started shaking between me and the window. I kept moving in and out of her but watching her get an orgasm made me reach mine and I leaned my forehead against hers as I came inside her, squeezing her hands maybe a bit too tight.

We were both a panting mess when we were done but we still remained motionless, our bodies pressed together, my forehead leaning against hers and our fingers intertwined on each side of her head.

"I love you too, Niall."

I smiled at her words and finally moved away and told her I'd be right back. When I got out of the bathroom, I had put sweatpants on and she was now wearing my shirt along with her panties, which I believed was her best outfit. The music was still playing in the living room and I extended my hand to her and raised my eyebrows.

"You wanna dance?"

"Here?" she smiled. "In your living room?"

I didn't answer but she just licked her lips and put her hand in mine. I made her twirl around and she giggled before I pulled her closer the same way I had at the wedding but for some obvious reason, it felt way more intimate. She leaned her head on my shoulder and it made me suddenly very happy.

I had found a radio station that only played music from the 90's and I knew it would make her happy. A slow song started and she chuckled as I pulled her closer.

"I love that song."

It took me a few seconds to remember that it was a Savage Garden song and when the lyrics said 'I love you more with every breath' I felt her lips on my neck, brushing up to my ear.

"I love you, Niall." she repeated. "I wish you wouldn't have to leave."

"Me too, petal, me too."

---

The next day, we were both numb and sad and we did everything mechanically, stealing a few kisses from time to time as we walked by each other while getting prepared. I wanted her to come with me to the airport but I knew she wouldn't and I didn't insist. My bags were out of the wardrobe and were now waiting for me near the door, taunting me and making my heart break every single time I saw them.

"Okay, you got your passport?" she asked, standing in front of me.

I nodded and she did the same.

"Phone? Both of them?"

"Yea, I do."

She stared at me with teary eyes but still managed to send me a smile. I breathed in and out loudly and was about to pull her close in a hug when she reached for her ear, making me frown. She took one of her earrings off and handed it to me, her head tilting on the right. I remained motionless and she raised her eyebrows, moving her hand a bit closer to me.

"You still got your ear pierced, right?"

"It's your grandma's, I can't accept it I mean, what If I lose it?"

"Then don't lose it." she just argued, taking a step closer to me before putting it in my ear and locking it.

I closed my eyes and breathed her perfume in. When she was done, I wrapped my arm around her waist and kept her close to me.

"Thank you." I whispered, burring my face in her neck.

"Every time you see it, you promise you'll think about me?" she asked, gripping the front of my shirt in her fist.

"I promise. But I'll already be thinking about you." I pointed out, making her chuckle low.

She pulled away after a while and her smile grew when she saw it on my ear. "Now we match!" she giggled this time, making me laugh a bit and shake my head.

"You’re ridiculously perfect." I pointed out, pulling her closer again and wrapping my arms around her neck this time. Her arms slithered around my waist and I kissed her head, squeezing her tight against me.

"Oh! I have something else for you!"

She got out of my embrace and rushed to the room as I shook my head. It was totally her kind to forget about something she wanted to give me until last minute and it was almost a miracle that she didn't completely forget about it. She came back, jogging to me, and handed me a box. I frowned and looked up at her only to see her biting her bottom lip, eyebrows raised.

"What it is?"

"Short letters." she explained, licking her lips nervously. "I wrote one for every show you have. The name of the place and the date is written on each envelop. You can not open them before. You have to open each envelop right before you go on stage for every show. Not 30 minutes before, not in-between two songs or later when you're at your hotel. You get your guitar, open the letter, read it, and then immediately go on stage. You think you can do that?"

I pushed the air out of my lungs as my lips curled but remained parted. I opened the box only to see a bunch of envelops of different colors waiting for me inside and when I looked up, she was smiling wide, probably because of my reaction.

"That's... fuck, Liv." I let out, impressed. "That's a great idea and you know what? I'm gonna film myself opening every single one of them so you know I did it right before going on stage. I'll answer your messages in videos and send them to you."

Her face illuminated and she jumped slightly, making me laugh.

"How about we make a private instagram? We can both add things there? Share a password? And make it private, of course."

I made her an amused face and laughed. "Oh, look who loves social medias all of a sudden!"

She shrugged and I could swear her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. "It's just for you and me, no one else. I mean, think of all the things we can post."

"Pretty sure nudity is not tolerated." I joked, making her raise her nose up in a cute grimace.

"Don't worry, I'll send you nudes directly in your text messages."

I moved my eyebrows and smirked, bringing my mouth on hers. "Mm, I really hope so."

We kissed gently and slowly for a while, as if it could push back my departure, and when we stopped, she kept her lips against mine and sighed.

"I'm in love with you, Niall. I'll miss you."

"I'm in love with you too, petal. I'll miss you more."

We sighed and I held her hand as we pulled away and took a step back until I was almost out of reach. She moved her upper body forward to keep holding my hand but when her fingers slipped out of mine, I saw her tear up and sniff. It was so hard to see that I just grabbed my stuff and turned around, walking out until I heard her voice again.

"Niall! Wait!"

I turned to look at her and she was crying. It broke my heart and I swallowed hard.

"Say it again. Please say it one last time before you leave."

I felt my heart break in my chest and dropped all the bags, rushing back to her and cupping her face to kiss her hard and intensely. She answered the kiss and moaned in my mouth.

"I'm in love with you." I whispered. "I'm so fucking in love with you."

#niall horan #niall horan fluff #niall horan smut #niall horan story #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan writing #my fanfics #yam #if you still read and comment and reblog thank you ily!<

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kristoffsloveisntfragile · 4 years ago

Text

The Christmas Spirit

Rating: T

Word Count: 7,107

Pairing: Kristoff/Anna

Summary: Modern AU; It’s Christmas time and Anna and Kristoff are finally having their first Christmas together, at the Bjorgman house. This is the first time Anna really has met the whole family, in one place. Anxiety and a feeling of overwhelmed come over her, but that doesn’t stop her heart from being in love with his family. And that surely doesn’t stop Kristoff from still being in love with Anna.

Notes: IS CHRISMAS YALL!!! Hope you all enjoy! I’ve actually been working on this for literally 6 ish months, and I feel like it’s pretty perfect for how long I’ve been working on it. Again, hope you enjoy, and a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to yall!

It was the holiday season and Anna and Kristoff had been dating for almost two and a half years now. Anna lived a state away from her family so this year she decided that she would do something independent for the holidays. Maybe a year away from her family wouldn’t be so bad? It didn’t hit her until later that she really had no other plans. She had the Christmas tree set up in her apartment, of course helped by Kristoff. They set it up and that night they put on a Christmas movie and decorated the tree. Their hands full of glitter and eyes burnt out from staring at the lights on the tree for too long. That was fun, but Anna didn’t formally invite anyone to hang out with her for Christmas day, so she assumed she would spend the day alone, maybe Kristoff or Elsa popping in to say hello and maybe give a gift, if they had bought one. Anna couldn’t tell if it was the maturity making her not want gifts this year, or the fact that she was spending it alone was. Either way, she didn’t really mind it, a peaceful Christmas this year is what she needs. At least she thinks.

“So what are you exactly doing for Christmas?” Kristoff asks after he washed down his bagel with his coffee. They get breakfast together at a local coffee shop at least 3-4 times a week before work.

This perked up Anna, usually as they wait for their food they catch each other up and when they finally sit down to eat they plow it down, not really any talk to be had, they just want to fill up their stomach to get through the day so they can hopefully see each other after work.

“Oh, nothing. I think this year I’ll have a peaceful Christmas day to myself. I mean, if you want to come by and stay for a while, I wouldn’t mind.” She sipped her coffee as she finished her statement.

Kristoff was confused as ever, “A...peaceful...Christmas...day? Where is Anna and what have you done with her?” This made Anna smile. Yeah, she knew it wasn’t like her, but it was like this fresh wave of maturity was washing over her. “I’ve never heard you put those kinds of words together. You’re really not going to do anything on Christmas?”

“Well, Christmas doesn’t have to be chaotic. It is named ‘the most peaceful time of year’ for a reason.”

“Well, you’ve never been with my family around Christmas. We like to go all out.” Kristoff leaned back in his chair. Then got that look on his face, Anna knew that look, he was getting an idea.

“Hey, why don’t you come over with me to my parents for Christmas!” Kristoff looked excited.

“Really? Won’t like, all of your family be there? I’ve never really seen all of your siblings in person. Of course, except Roxanne.” Anna said.

Roxanne was the third oldest, behind Kristoff by 8 years, a senior in high school, smart kid, does well in school, but liked to kind of do whatever she wanted. So when Anna would have the occasional dinner with Kristoff’s parents, she would see Roxanne come out of her room with her car keys and say to her family “See ya, I’ll be back at midnight.” And her family wouldn’t really bat an eye, Kristoff would just say the usual, “Don’t do anything I haven’t done!” and continue the dinner conversation.

“Well yeah, so this time you’ll finally get to meet all of them. And probably some of my grandparents too. You’ve made quite the impression to my family.” Kristoff raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve talked about me?” Anna asked.

“Are you kidding? Of course I have. They all love you out of the description I tell them.”

Anna, now curious, leaned forward and said, “What do you say?”

Kristoff leaned forward too and said, “Well, I describe you as the perfect woman in the world. With the most amazing color of hair, paired with the most indescribable color of eyes that just somehow match,” Kristoff had taken her hand, and Anna sighed, loving what she’s hearing. “I think they think you’re smaller than I described but I can’t tell.” She laughs. “And...there’s just so much about you that I’ve described to them. Like all the sweet things we do that make me love you even more...like that thing we tried last month.”

Anna swiped her hand away and swatted at his shoulder, “I’m kidding!” He remarked. “Most of them don’t understand...you know.” Anna knew he was kidding. But still.

They ate most of the rest of their food, and Kristoff looked up and said, “Sooo.. was that a yes?”

“Hm?” Anna hummed with a mouth full of food.

“You know, my offer? You just kind of let the conversation drop after I said that my family loves you. So?” Kristoff crumpled up his bagel wrapper.

Anna had been thinking about it since the moment the words left his mouth. Her mind was already set on staying home and drinking all the hot chocolate she could and watching all the Christmas movies she had. But, it couldn’t hurt to change her plans, especially if it was for her boyfriend.

“You know what? Sure, I’d love to. Nothing I would rather do.” Anna said and wrapped up her garbage as well. They got up and threw their stuff away, stepped outside the coffee shop, pecked each other on the lips and went their separate ways to their work for the day.

~~~

A week later, it was Christmas. Dinner at the Bjorgman family was happening around 7, but since the family liked to spend time together, especially around the holidays, the “party” was happening all day. Kristoff was picking up Anna around 5 though. Anna was getting ready, not too dressy, but not too looking like she didn’t want to be there. A classic casual blouse, leather jacket, jeans, and knee high boots. She looked in the mirror and decided she needed some jewelry. Dainty bracelets and necklaces worked. She then saw her pajamas that were strone across her bed. Part of her wished she could change back into them and just curl up on the couch. But the fact that she was spending Christmas day with her boyfriend, who she loved very much, and is now meeting the rest of his family, she couldn’t be happier.

She waited in her living room for a text or call from Kristoff, and was watching ‘The Santa Clause 2’ with Tim Allen and Elizabeth Mitchell. It was nearing the end of the movie, it was her favorite part. When Santa, or Scott Calvin as his real name, finally gets back to the North Pole but before he makes his round to drop off gifts to every child in the world, he has to marry the one he loves. Although rushed, Anna loves how sincere they still were in their vows, and they weren’t just marrying each other because he needed to be Santa Claus. They had a real deep connection.

Her phone chimed and it got her out of her trance. The text read, “Outside babe.” She turned off her TV, and made sure everything was off and locked and met him outside in his car.

She hopped in the car with a big smile on her face, with a quick ‘hey’ and put her seatbelt on.

“My, my. Aren’t you a giddy one?” Kristoff remarked.

“What? I’m not allowed to be happy to be meeting the rest of my boyfriend’s family?” She leaned towards his face, expecting a kiss anytime soon.

“No, it’s just...I’m happy you’re happy.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss her. And then they drove off to the Bjorgman household.

~~~

They pulled up to the household and Anna saw all of the cars that filled up the driveway and even spilling out to the sidewalk.

‘Lot of people then..’ Anna thought, and bit her lip. She got out of the car and Kristoff was getting a couple things from the back, Anna went around to see if he needed help.

“I think I’m good…” Kristoff said with his hands full of presents. “Oh, wait, can you grab those little boxes? On the floor?” Anna did as she was asked, and then shut the car door.

“So like, are all of these for the kids?” Anna asked as they were walking towards the house.

“Yep, just a little warning, I think there are more kids than you’ve imagined. Yes I have my younger siblings, but my aunts and uncles also have kids and they’re here too.”

“Wow...seems like the Bjorgman’s are...busy.”

“Ohhhh, yeah” Kristoff stretched out, laughing at the end of it, so did Anna. “Oh, since this was kind of last minute, I did put your name on the “From:” part of the tag on the presents, so people would think that you were, you know, nice enough to think of the kids.”

“Hey, I would’ve gotten stuff if you had said something. It completely slipped my mind to get stuff for them...but thank you for doing that anyway.” Anna giggled.

As they approached the door, Kristoff warned Anna about the second step, as it always seems to get slippery every year. Anna then rang the doorbell, but not long after someone was at the door. Bulda, with a very big smile and 3 kids attached to her.

“Anna! Oh my dear it’s so good to see you!! I’m so glad you came!” She gave Anna a very big and tight hug. Then went to Kristoff and took the huge amount of presents out of his hands and went into the other room. It wasn’t long before his hands were full again with the kids that tagged along with Bulda.

“Hey guys, hey look, look. There’s someone I want you to meet. This is Anna.” He was crouched down to their level, but looking up at Anna. Anna then crouched down too.

“Nice to meet you guys. What’s all your names?” Anna asked.

“I’m Maxine.” Maxine said proudly.

“I’m Jake.” Jake said.

“I-I’m D-D-Daisy-y.” Daisy, the youngest, managed to get out.

“She’s just learning how to talk. But I’m so proud you know how to say your own name!” Kristoff looked at Daisy and hugged her as she giggled.

“You’re really pretty Anna.” Jake said.

“Oh! Why thank you.” Anna was flattered, since she knew that kids told the truth most of the time.

“Okay kids, go play, I think Uncle Mike has a game of musical chairs going for the younglings.” Bulda peaked their interest, and they all ran off towards a different part of the house. Anna and Kristoff got up to see Bulda again, and she was already going in for a hug with her son. “Hello dear so good to see you. Was the drive okay?”

“Ah, it was okay. As long as I had my girl along my side, it was never boring.” Kristoff remarked.

“Yes, while it was a good drive, it did seem long and I drank a whole bottle of water, so if you don’t mind I’m just gonna use the bathroom.” Anna excused herself.

“Oh by all means!” Bulda said as she took off.

Kristoff started walking towards all the people before he was pulled by the sleeve by his mother.

“Well, is tonight the night?” She asked.

“Look, ma, I don’t know honestly. Yes, I very much want to do it, but I think she’s a little overwhelmed by all the people. We are a big family. If I’m going to do it tonight, I don’t think it’s going to be here.” Kristoff said, in a hushed tone.

“Okay, okay. I’m just so excited!” Bulda started to get worked up.

“Ok, shh, ma, you’re starting to jump, think about your ankle.” Bulda looked at it and brushed it off, and then Kristoff went back to what he was going to do, see the rest of his family.

~~~

A little time has passed, Anna met all the kids (she thinks- there’s just so many of them) and met and talked to a majority of the adults, with the same story of where she works and ‘why the hell do you like this troublemaker of a kid?’-Kristoff.

She found herself with a small glass of champagne and was standing by the sink talking to Roxanne. She found a little comfort in talking to her. She wasn’t completely new to Anna, but there was still a lot they didn’t know about each other.

“So, anything new at school happening?” Anna asked

“Wow, what a new question everyone hasn’t asked me yet.” Roxanne joked, but there was a hint of truth behind it.

“Oh sorry, I mean no offense but what else is there to ask an 18 year old. It’s your senior year, you should be having fun, making memories. We all wanna hear about your experience, and be there for you during the big moments.”

“Yeah, well nothing is really happening, not until the new year hits anyways, all the interesting sports start in the spring, the musicals, testing, dances, etc.”

“Yeah, I hear you. So there’s really nothing else going on for you?”

Roxanne shook her head, “No, nothing much.” But she looked at her feet. Anna knew exactly what that meant, she even does it herself. She was hiding something.

“So there is something new.”

Looking up, Roxanne was kinda shocked, “How did you know?”

“I’m a girl just like you, the subtle hints you just gave, I’ve done them before. What’s up, you can trust me you know.”

Roxanne breathed in, and turned to really face Anna. “Well, it is my senior year, and..I’ve never really had a relationship.”

Anna knew exactly what she was getting into with this conversation. “Oh I see, and, is there someone you’re interested in?”

“Well, the thing is, I’m bi, so I’ve had crushes come and go. I’ll see someone who is interesting or cute, but I’ll get scared because, well if it’s a girl, what if they don’t have the same interests as me, and if it’s a guy, well...you know.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a whole ordeal. The only thing I can say, in your situation, it seems best for you to make a friend first, and then see if they would like to take things further. You shouldn’t have to feel like you’re rushed to find someone. When you know, you know.” Her gaze wandered over to Kristoff who wasn’t far from them.

“Is that how you felt with my brother?” Roxanne smiled.

“Oh yeah. I mean, before we started dating, you heard tale of me right?” Roxanne nodded. “So yeah, we met, became friends, and from there we found something. And look at us now.” Anna smiled.

Roxanne looked down, still having a smile on her face. “Yeah, you guys do have something special. I feel like you’re the hot topic tonight to be honest.”

“Really? Me?” Anna asked.

“Oh yeah, are you kidding? Kristoff doesn’t stop talking about you when he’s over, the only time that does come to a halt is when you are over too for a dinner or something. But since everyone is here, I don’t know, I feel like you’re just an easy topic for Kristoff and the family to talk about.” Roxanne explained.

Kristoff came over and cut between them, as they were still at the sink. He rinsed a glass he had and set it in the sink, and while he was, he said, “Hey, my two favorite girls.” He stepped back and instinctively put his arm around Anna. “What are y’all talking about?”

“Oh nothing, just, girl stuff.” Anna said, looking up at him with admiration.

“Yep, so no boy can hear it.” Roxanne teased.

“Ah, I see. Well, no matter, how are you enjoying the night?” Kristoff asked, but mostly to Anna.

“I’m doing fine, your family is really friendly, it’s nice knowing that I don’t have to put up a fake persona for them.” Anna said.

“Of course, our family loves people for who they are. Unless they’re clearly a douche.” He chuckled.

“Well, there is one person who puts on a “fake persona” once a year for the-” Roxanne started to say.

“Shhhhhhh” Kristoff cut her off.

“What? What are you talking about?” Anna was confused and curious.

“It’s nothing.”

“But you’ll find out later.” Roxanne whispered to Anna, all giddy.

Anna was still confused, but she trusted Roxanne’s word that she’ll find out later.

“We should head into the living room soon, the Yankee Swap will start soon and with how many people are here, there won’t be many seats that are on cushion.”

“Good call.” Roxanne said and started heading towards the living room. Anna and Kristoff soon followed.

A few minutes later, Kristoff’s mom turned down the Christmas music, and got everyone into the room, she got the room to quiet down.

“Okay everyone time to start the swap! Now, I asked everyone to put all of the gifts in the other room, so Derek can you go get them?” Derek nodded and got up to go to the other room.

“Actually before we start I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Kristoff said and got up.

“Okay, just so you know you might get a bad number for the picking!” Bulda joked.

Shortly after, Derek came back with a big bag full of the swap gifts. He started to take them out of the bag when Bulda started to explain what the rules were.

“So, the rules are simple. We are going to pick a number out of this hat,” She grabs a hat full of numbers. “And just go in order. You can pick any gift, and once you get it you open it. And if you’re in the later numbers and you pick a gift but you want something someone has who went before you, you have to battle them! That’s my twist to the game, to battle them, you must play a quick game of charades!!!” Everyone was either a little more intrigued, or groaned how boring they thought that game was.

“To actually win, if the person you want to battle doesn’t get your word or phrase or whatever it is, you can get their gift. But if the person gets the word right, they don’t give up the gift. Everyone got it?” Bulda finishes.

As she finishes, Derek is finishing up with placing the gifts near the tree.

“Hmm, Derek are you sure that’s all the gifts?” Bulda puts on a voice. And loud enough for the next three rooms to hear.

“What do you mean? There’s more???” Jake asked with a lot of enthusiasm in his voice.

“Oh yes, I know there is. I wonder where they all went though…”

Just as Bulda says that, Anna hears Roxanne snicker. She’s again confused, but just then, she sees a big red blur come through the threshold. A big resounding “Ho Ho Ho!” followed. Anna knew immediately it was Kristoff, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her boyfriend with a fat suit and probably a 3x large red, furry jacket. She started laughing with Roxanne, and most of the adults who also knew it was Kristoff. The kids on the other hand, lost their minds. As for them, Santa was in the house, the night before Christmas.

So many, “OH MY GOD IT’S SANTA!” and, “I CAN’T BELIEVE MY EYES” and just screaming for joy in general.

“Hello kids, yes it’s me Santa, I wanted to come by before I start my rounds and give you the first presents before any other kid in the world gets theirs.”

“Wow thanks Santa!” One of the kids said.

Anna couldn’t help but laugh, as she had never heard the voice that Kristoff was putting on. But she held it in as best as she could, so she wouldn’t ruin it for the kids.

“Don’t worry, if you come back every year, you’ll be able to suppress the laugh. But it will still be hilarious, but you’ll be able to put on a fake ‘oh my God, wow’ smile.” Roxanne leaned over to Anna and whispered.

“How long has he been doing this?” Anna asked.

“Since, he was like 16. He grew drastically like when he was 13 or 14. By 16 he was like 3 inches shorter than he is now. So he could pass for it. Our dad used to do this, but both he and Kristoff knew that at one point he was gonna have to stop at one point, so he took over. He loves doing it though.” Roxanne explained.

“Wow. He never said anything about it. And we know almost everything about each other.” Anna remarked.

“Maybe he wanted to surprise you.” Roxanne said.

They went back to watching Kristoff play Santa to his younger brothers and sisters, and some of his nieces and nephews. He really did look like he was enjoying it, bringing joy to them seemed to instantly put a smile on his face, and his soul. Anna loved seeing him so happy that he was making his family happy.

“So here’s all the presents for you kids-” ‘Santa’ started to say,

“But, we’ll all have to wait for the Yankee Swap to be over, then you can open them. But for now, Santa has to go, say goodbye kids.” Bulda says.

All of the kids yelled “Goodbyee!!” and as Kristoff was kneeling to pull the gifts out of the bag he brought in, some kids ran over to hug him before he left.

“Okay children, I’ve really got to get back to the sleigh and start delivering the rest of the presents. Merry Christmas to all!”

“AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!” All of the kids screamed back.

Anna thought to herself, besides Kristoff dressing up as Santa, that was also a tradition they had. She saw as he left, and all the kids were still buzzing about it.

“Okay, okay kids settle, if you wanna open your presents you gotta play this game first.” They all quieted down, but still a little joy left in their eyes.

As Bulda was going around the room letting people pick their numbers, Kristoff came back, and immediately the kids said “Kristoff you missed it! Santa was just here! Look at how many presents he gave us!”

“My Kristoff, you were in the bathroom for a long time that you missed Santa!” Bulda exaggerated.

“Oh well, maybe next year I’ll catch him.” Kristoff said as he was heading back to his seat next to Anna.

“And who knows, maybe he’ll bring a certain Mrs-”

“Shhh.” Kristoff hissed at his mom. Bulda returned to passing out numbers. Kristoff had looked back to see if Anna had caught that, but he doesn’t think she did, because Anna couldn’t stop smiling at Kristoff, and he raised a brow and asked, “What?”

“Oh nothing, it was just really special seeing Santa here tonight.” Anna said through a smile.

“What are you talking about?” Kristoff smiled, playing along with the joke.

Anna laughed, “Nothing.” Neither one of them really knew what the context of that conversation was, but they were just both so happy with the buzz that they felt between them and the buzz that was in the room. Anna knew right then and there that she didn’t regret coming to the party tonight. Kristoff quickly kissed her cheek and returned to the game that was starting.

~~~

The game and the present opening seemed to happen so fast that it was all blurry to Anna. In a good way though, there was so much laughter from the charade portions, and all the jokes, and the kids, and the fact that she couldn’t get the image of ‘Santa Kris’ out of her head. They could all tell that the party was coming to an end. All the kids were asking where the desserts were, so they were occupied eating those, the adults were getting their kids presents or their own gifts they got, all packed up and ready to go to the car, and all the food was being portioned to be taken home, since there was way too much to keep at Buldas house.

Anna was nursing another glass of champagne and talking to some of Kristoff’s relatives when Kristoff came over and, again, instinctively wrapped his arm around her.

“You ready to go babe?”

“Aweeee, do we have to? It feels like we just got here 10 minutes ago!” Anna whined, but deep inside of her she wanted to go home and snuggle up next to Kristoff while watching more Christmas movies.

“Ah, we don’t wanna burden my mom by staying here.” Kristoff glanced over at his mom who was finishing up with giving some food to Kristoff’s cousin as they were leaving. His mom must’ve caught the end of that because she looked over and came over.

“Oh, are you guys leaving soon? I can pack up some stuff for ya if you want!” Bulda said.

“Thanks, but we won’t need a lot like your packing with everyone else-”

“Maybe just the desserts and some of the pasta would be good for us to take.” Anna finished Kristoff’s sentence, then laughed.

“Honestly, if you took as many desserts as you wanted there would still be enough for everyone else to take some home. I may have made a little too much for today.” Bulda exclaimed.

“No, no don’t worry, we’re more than happy to take those desserts off of your hands!” Anna laughed again, intending some kind of joke, but in actuality, she was eyeing the cheesecake she’s already had two big slices of.

“Oh then by all means, I’ll pack some stuff up for you.” Bulda turned around and went to work.

“You know I was trying to get her to not pack as much food for us to take home. She’s a busy woman enough as it is.” Kristoff said to Anna in a hushed voice.

“Well, it’s not like she’s complaining, I mean sure it is busy work, but it’s Christmas, is it really hard work if you enjoy it?” Anna questioned back. Kristoff gave her a look of defeat, but still worry behind his eyes. Anna knew what to do.

“I’ll go help her then, some one-on-one wouldn’t hurt our relationship right?” Anna handed her champagne to him and walked towards Bulda.

“Hey there, do you want some help packing up the food and stuff?” Anna asked.

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t wanna burden you by helping me.” Bulda brushed away Anna, but she wouldn’t back down.

“Oh come on, I insist. Plus, didn’t I hear something about your ankle? You could use a break, or at least some help.”

Bulda gave in, almost like she even forgot about her ankle hurting. “Oh sure, what’s the harm of you helping, right?” She laughed, “Just take some of these buckets, and follow me.” Anna did as she was told.

Anna followed her to the dining room where some of the food was kept, but mostly the desserts.

“Wow, I honestly forgot how many there were.” Anna remarked.

“Yeah, like I said, I may have made too much. But I guess I say that every year, and everyone goes home happy. That’s what really matters to me.” Bulda said with a smile.

“That’s really sweet.” Anna said, her heart melting a bit at what Bulda just said.

They packed up some sweets while chit-chatting a bit, they eventually got the topic of Kristoff.

“Oh I couldn’t stop laughing when he came out.” Anna said.

“Oh, imagine me, the first time he did it after Pabbie stopped, I couldn’t stop laughing. It was just so funny seeing a 16 year-old do that.”

“Wow, he must’ve been really tall to pull that off.”

“Oh yeah, the summer before 9th grade, poof, grew a foot and became 6 ft. No idea what happened to this day. But it added to his character.”

“Oh yeah it did.” Anna laughed. “Probably one of the first thoughts that came across my mind when I first even glanced at him was ‘Wow look how tall he is.’ Of course, that’s coming from me, 5’2” here.” Anna laughed some more.

“Awe, well you two fit perfectly together. The height difference just makes it look even cuter.”

“Yeah..” Anna got lost in her thoughts for a second.

“You two are really happy together.” Bulda admired Anna’s look of loss in thought.

“Oh yeah.” Anna blushed a little. After all she was still talking to Kristoff’s mother.

“You know, Kristoff told me…..Oh no, I shouldn’t tell you.” Bulda waved her hand and went back to finishing up all the packed up desserts.

“Oh well you gotta tell me now!” Anna laughed.

“No, no, I’m sure it’s gonna happen...soon?”

“What do you mean?” Anna asked, confused as ever.

Just then Kristoff poked his head in the dining room to say, “Hey, I just went to warm up the car, so whenever you’re ready.” He smiled.

“Oh we just finished dear, just a little catching up.” Bulda said. It wasn’t a lie, but Anna still felt there was something unsaid.

Bulda turned back to Anna and said, “Just, remember how happy you are with Kristoff.”

“Of course I won’t. I never will. But what did you mean-”

“I’ve said too much, if I say anymore Kristoff will kill me. Just, enjoy the rest of your night dear.” Bulda said, putting a hand on Anna’s arm.

Anna and Kristoff took all of the food that she really wanted, Kristoff and Anna said their goodbyes and gave their hugs to everyone who was left. They made it through the dropping temperatures outside into the warmed up car, and started their drive home.

But Anna couldn’t help but question what Bulda meant by “It’s gonna happen soon”. Anna couldn’t think of anything important coming up. With Christmas tomorrow, and New Years in about a week, there was nothing else of importance going on. She looked over to Kristoff and tried to think if there was anything coming up for him. She couldn’t.

Kristoff noticed she was staring. “What’s up babe?” His eyes went back to the road.

“Nothing, nothing, just….is there anything important coming up?”

“...You mean something other than Christmas?” He laughs at his own little joke. “No, why?”

Anna wanted to say because Bulda had said something was gonna happen, but then remembered her saying “If Kristoff found out he would kill me”. Is it something Anna is supposed to know, and he isn’t? Or the other way around?

“Oh, I don’t know, it just seems like there’s something I’m supposed to do. Maybe it’s something for work.” Anna said.

“Well, you got a whole week off, it can’t be that important.” Kristoff reached for Anna’s hand and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb mindlessly.

Anna smiled. Of course she lied about the thing being for work, but she decided maybe it was good to forget about it. Whatever the thing is Bulda talked about, it will happen when it happens.

~~~

After the long drive, they head to Anna’s place, they both take off their boots and sweaters, Anna takes off all the jewelry on her body, and heads to her room to put it all away, Kristoff not far behind her.

Anna was standing in front of her vanity, sorting everything away when Kristoff slithers his arms around Anna and just hugs her. “Finally, no relatives or younger siblings to interrupt our alone time.”

Anna huffed and smiled. “Hmmm, I’ve been thinking about just coming back here and relaxing all night. Well, maybe not the whole night,” Anna turned around while still in his arms, “Tonight was pretty fun with your family.”

“I get it. Being there is fun, but sitting on the couch watching movies and drinking hot chocolate in the dark. Sounds exhilarating.” Kristoff smiled, then leaned in for a kiss.

Anna liked the idea of that, but she wanted to be comfortable. When they parted, she said “I like that, let me just go wash everything off.” She got out of his arms and headed to the bathroom.

She washed her makeup off, cleansed her face, brushed her teeth, and went back to her bedroom- which she had then found that Kristoff had changed out of his day clothes (she had some clothes that were Kristoff’s left behind here for nights like this), She switched to her pjs and found that Kristoff had everything set up for Anna to just snuggle in with Kristoff. The movie, the drinks, the blankets, the apartment just being lit by the very dim hallway light.

“Wow, how long was I in the bathroom?” Anna asked jokingly.

“You weren’t gone long, I just work very fast.” Kristoff said, inviting Anna onto the couch with his eyes, which she gladly accepted. Kristoff went ahead and put on The Santa Clause 2, the movie Anna was watching before she left. She didn’t say that out loud, she didn’t mind that she was watching this movie again. She was just happy Kristoff was around this time.

~Near the end of the movie~

Anna’s body was practically glued against Kristoff’s, her ear hearing his heartbeat, and her upper body moving along with his breaths.

They got to the part that Anna was watching before Kristoff picked her up to go to the party. When Santa needs to marry Carol before taking off for the night. She just loved the scene.

“You know before you came to pick me up I was watching this movie, really just having it in the background, and this is the scene that I saw right before you arrived.” Anna said. They always just said what was on their minds a lot of the time.

“Hmm.” Kristoff hummed. Anna just thought that he was starting to fade because of the warm drinks, the dim lights. But really, Anna had no idea that he was just choked up on what he wanted to do next.

It was the scene where Mother Nature had pronounced them ‘Man and Wife’, they kissed, and Scott Calvin once again became the one and only Santa Claus.

Anna hummed against Kristoff’s chest, “Man I just love this movie.” Anna tried to snuggle deeper into Kristoff more.

He laughed, “Yep. I would’ve enjoyed it a little more if I didn’t have to fricken pee in the second half,” Kristoff started to laugh, and Anna joined, but mostly started to get up so he could move. “But it was just too comfortable and relaxing that I could wait. But I’ll be back and we’ll put on the next one.” Kristoff pecked Anna on the lips and went to the bathroom.

Anna was smiling. She just loved the nights like this. It doesn’t even have to be Christmas for them to have a night where they just watch movies and drink hot chocolate. It was just more special tonight because it was Christmas, and they were spending it together.

Anna decided to just get the next movie going so that they can start when Kristoff comes back. She went to put their mugs in the kitchen, she didn’t think they were gonna have any more, so she just grabbed some water instead for both of them to have. By the time she gets back into the living room, Kristoff is coming out of the bathroom.

Anna looks up and sees that he looks a little zoned out. Confused, she asks, “Everything okay? You seem a little...unfocused.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I was just thinking about somethings.” He said and sat down on the couch, not laying where he was before.

“What kinds of things?” Anna trying to lighten the mood, (she thinks that is what needed to be done) she leans closer to Kristoff, putting her hand near his chest.

“It’s just-- nah it’s stupid, forget about it.” Kristoff tries to laugh it off, but Anna won’t let go.

“Well obviously it’s something. C’mon, you can tell me anything.” Anna pleaded in her own cute way.

Kristoff was hesitant, looking back and forth between Anna and his hands. He took a deep breath as he was about to reveal what felt like a lot to him.

“Look, Anna, you know I love you, so very much,” Anna started to get nervous. Why would he be saying that now? “And, I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been thinking about the future.” Oh thank God.

“Really?” Anna couldn’t contain her grin. Just hearing the word “future” come out of his mouth, made her giddy. The fact that when he says it and she’s there with him in his mind's eye, made her happy.

“Yeah, but, lately, I just feel as though...I’m not...not good enough.” He struggled to get through the sentence, because while he did think it, it was hard to admit it out loud.

Anna was taken back from this. Her mind instantly flashed to all the times when Kristoff took care of Anna when she was sick, when she was having an anxiety attack, or when she even needed a hug or a kiss. And then she thought about all the times she saw him take care of her sister, Elsa. Sure, they weren’t super close, but if Elsa needed something and Kristoff could do it, he did it. Her mind flashed to all the memories of when Kristoff was there for his family, heck, some moments from the party flashed across her eyes. Anna was very confused and honestly a little hurt from thinking that Kristoff wasn’t good enough.

“What...the hell are you talking about?” Some seriousness in her voice, but she couldn’t help but have a bit of a smirk at the edge of her lip.

“Huh?” Kristoff was now confused.

“You think you’re not good enough? First of all, very vague, you’re good at your job, you’re good at being a boyfriend, you’re good at being a son, a brother, a cousin, hell even a damn human being. You are a good one- no! You’re a great human being Kristoff.” Anna was talking like a motivational speaker, and Kristoff couldn’t help but smile, from mostly being told that he was a great person. I mean, how would you react?

“Kristoff, I don’t know what thing you have going inside your head to make you think that you’re not good enough. Tonight alone showed how much you’re an amazing human being. If anyone ever tells you otherwise, point them in my direction….and I will gladly punch them in the face.” Kristoff officially laughed at that part.

“Well, okay, I don’t think we need to go that far-”

“No I’m serious!” Anna said, still with a smile on her face. “I will do it if anyone says that to you ever.”

Kristoff looked deep into her eyes. He could tell that she meant it. And forever will. “That’s so good to know.” Kristoff still had a look of nervousness. But he pushed it away with a smile, and lunged toward Anna for a kiss. She gladly accepted it.

She was about to fully be on top of Kristoff (to enjoy the moment even more), but Kristoff started to move away. Anna broke the kiss as she could start to tell what he was moving away.

“Wh-what are you….” Anna was confused as to where he was going, until she saw he wasn’t going far. He was on one knee, and slowly but surely pulled a ring from his pocket. “Woah, woah-” Anna suddenly lost her voice. She didn’t have the words.

“Anna, it’s so glad to hear you say that all about ‘how great a human being’ I am. But honestly, I’m the one who’s with an extraordinary human being.” Anna started to tear up. “I love you with all I am,” He opened up the box, “Will you marry me?”

Anna barely let a breath in between before she jumped onto him screaming, “YES! Yes, yes, yes, yes!” She felt him catch her as she was basically on the floor with him too. “Oh my gosh!” She pulled back, looked at him and couldn’t contain her excitement as she went to kiss him all over his face.

Kristoff couldn’t stop laughing out of happiness, and just let her excitement run wild. When she pulled back once again, he finally got a chance to get her left hand, and slip the ring on it.

“Oh my gosh, Kristoff it’s beautiful!” She said while admiring it. “This must’ve been a lot, how long have you been wanting to do this?” She asked.

“Well, the idea has been poking around for about a year and a couple months,” Anna breathed out a laugh. “But I didn’t officially buy the ring until like a month and a half ago.”

Then she put the pieces together. If he’s been wanting to do this for well over a year, he must’ve been telling his family he’s been wanting to.

So that’s why earlier Bulda said ‘If I say anymore Kristoff will kill me’ Anna thought.

“...Did you tell your family about that? Because now that I think about it they’ve been dropping hints all night.”

“To be fair they’ve been dropping hints the whole time. Tonight was probably more than ever because I had said something about wanting to do it tonight, maybe even tomorrow.”

“Well, I’m very glad you did it tonight.” Anna wrapped her arms around Kristoff’s neck and went in for a long and heartwarming kiss. Anna felt his hands come up around her waist.

At one point they got back up on the couch, but it was all in the blur of kisses, hugs and snuggles. Putting on the next movie, that they barely paid attention to, tangled in each other's arms.

“Hey, when you said you were thinking about the future,” Anna heard Kristoff hum, “Were you...I don’t know...thinking about another family….one that….we can start?” Anna tried her best to turn her head to see Kristoff’s reaction.

His eyes were wide, but she could see that there was a hint of promise. “Hmmmm…..maybe we’ll talk about that in the New Year.” Kristoff smiled, but the thought definitely didn’t leave his mind for a while.

#frozen #frozen 2 #kristanna fanfiction #anna #Kristoff #kristanna #kristanna fanfic #christmas

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sylvies-chen · 5 years ago

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Okay, this is a sad one, or angsty, so sorry about this, but I’m loving the song “This is On You” by Maisie Peters! It’s literally my worst case scenario for Jay and Hailey, but I feel like it’s kind of a possibility?! I don’t know! But thank you for all your writing - love it :)

Hi anon, I feel like you’ve read my mind because I’m a BIG Maisie Peters fan !! I made this into a tiny AU drabble where she and Jay fight before she leaves for New York but it’s still pretty angsty because that song just hits you in the feels. Hope you like it! Thank you for all the love, by the way. I really appreciate it :)

“I can’t believe this.”

Hailey paces around her apartment, ignoring Jay’s eyes watching her worriedly. Voight had just sat in the precinct not even an hour earlier and had told her she’s going to New York to work with the FBI. She gets that she’s been off lately, and she swears she could try and get everything under control if she had another chance, but New York? That’s far. It’s far, and it’s unfair, and it’s not home. She doesn’t want to have to go, even if it’s just temporary. Jay had been able to tell that something was off with her when she had left, and he had come over within minutes. They’re usual habit of wanting to be alone and refusing to let each other be alone either way still remains strong, so he knocks at the door rapidly. She had told him almost immediately after he walked in through the door, and now he’s sitting down and watching her spiral with rage.

“Hailey, you’re going to be fine,” Jay tries comforting her from the couch. “It’s not for too long, right? We’ll all still be here when you get back.”

“Yeah, but New York? That’s like a million miles away! This is ridiculous,” she huffs.

“It’s only 790.5, actually.”

“What?” She stops her pacing and turns to him, confused.

“It’s 790.5 miles from Chicago to New York,” he corrects her.

Her fury is interrupted only momentarily by her intrigue at the implications of him looking up the distance. “You looked it up?”

“You ever heard of Google?” His sarcastic quip doesn’t do a good job of downplaying the sweet gesture like Hailey knows he wants to, but she figures it’s best to just drop it and resumes her pacing.

“790 miles,” she shakes her head bitterly. “He can’t just do this to me. I start doing the things he does and suddenly I’m crossing a line and being too ruthless. Well if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black.”

“I mean…” Jay starts but looks hesitant as he keeps going, “You have been acting off lately. Is it really so bad to take a break, clear your head?”

And that’s how their fight starts.

She can hardly believe what she’s hearing. “My head is fine, Jay,” she snaps. “Why are you taking his side on this?”

He stands up now, makes his way over to her, and cuts her off, preventing her from pacing. His hands fly instinctively to her shoulders, comforting her as best he can. She knows he’s being sweet, feels her stomach twist and turn at his touch. Still, she can’t help but feel agitated. He should be too, to be honest. It bothers her that he doesn’t seem the least bit upset at her leaving. “Hails, you know I’m always on your side,” he soothes, his voice raspy and low. “But you haven’t been the same since Cam’s death.”

“He was my informant-- ”

“Yeah I know, and Darius Walker was Voight’s. Look. I’m just saying, New York could be good for you. That's why Voight’s making you go in the first place, isn’t it?”

Hailey feels her heart sink into her stomach. She can’t shake her fear that he wants her gone. Her insecurity comes out as irritation though. “Why do I feel like you want to get rid of me?!”

His brows scrunch up and his tone becomes defensive, indignant. “Hailey, come on. You can’t be serious, can you? The last thing I want is for you to leave. It makes me sick to my stomach, for god’s sake. But I’m trying to help you here!”

“I don’t need your help,” she blurts out before she can stop herself. As soon as it comes out, she regrets it. It’s not like she means it. It’s not like she wants to fight with him. She wants to just crash onto her couch and eat Bartolli’s deep dish with him and then fall asleep in his arms. It’s something that only the deepest, most guarded part of her yearns for, and it drives her crazy in all the right ways. But she blurts out that she doesn’t need her help anyway, even if it’s far from the truth, and she can’t take it back. She feels her walls coming up and knows she’s too far down this path of anger and self-preservation.

“You know what? Fine,” he scoffs. “If you don’t want my help, then I won’t give it. It’s your own damn grave you’re digging, Hailey. I’m not going to kill myself trying to save you from it.”

“Like I said, I don’t need you to save me.” That statement is partially true. She’s been taking care of herself her entire life, she hardly needs anyone to come to her rescue. She knows he doesn’t mean it like though. He just wants to help, just as he always does. Still, she’s too amped up on her own anger to know when to keep her mouth shut.

“So… what, that’s it? You won’t talk to me about any of it?” She doesn’t answer, just stands there awkwardly unable to find the words that would fix this. Jay nods, bites the inside of his cheek. Throughout all of this giant fight, this awkward aftermath section hurts Hailey the most. He won’t even look her in the eye. “I think I should go.”

“Yeah,” she nods. No, she thinks to herself. I want you to stay. I want to just sit back down on the couch and pretend this never happened. How can she miss him so much already when he’s standing right there?

He looks her in the eye after what feels like forever, and he just looks so… hurt. There’s something else there in his eyes, a longing for something that he can’t quite find in her. She doesn’t know what he’s thinking, but she wishes she did so she could give him whatever he’s looking for in her eyes. He doesn’t seem to find it, gives up, and sighs. “Ok.” He doesn’t say another word until he’s halfway out the door, turns around to face her, and speaks again, “I’ll, uh… I’ll see you when you get back then.”

“Yeah,” she says again because there isn’t much else she can bear to say. “Bye, Jay.” Her voice is soft and filled with regret.

“Bye,” he whispers back, turning around to leave.

She leaves for New York three days later and feels miserable the entire trip. The airline seats her next to some married couple who have a very different idea of what the “No PDA” sign means, and she gets to New York on waste collection day so the whole city smells like hot, steamy garbage.

She misses Jay. She had missed him when he left her apartment that night, missed him when she had hopped off the airplane and seen a pizza place with pizza that tastes like cardboard, misses him on her first day at the FBI when one of the agents spills his cup of noodles on himself. She just misses him.

They left things so terribly. She thinks about calling, about texting, about saying she’s sorry and she didn’t mean any of it and she can’t stand them not talking, but she doesn’t. A week goes by and she finally gets into the groove of things, but it’s nothing like it is in Chicago. She thinks it’s for the best, that the only way to get over this fight is to stop thinking about Jay altogether. But absence makes the heart grow fonder, and with every day she finds herself missing their partnership more and more.

She gets a text from him during her second week. It’s a short text, five words. Yet five words make her happier than an entire two weeks in New York.

Jay: I’m sorry.

I miss you.

Those small little words are all she needs to know that eventually, they’ll be okay.

#song lyric requests #chicago pd #upstead #hailey upton #jay halstead #one chicago #hailey x jay #jay x hailey

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courage-a-word-of-justice · 4 years ago

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Maou-jou 9 - 12 (FINAL) | Idolish7 s2 10 - 15 (FINAL) | SLS 2

I’ve been holding off new seasonals because of other things, but after I post this I’ll have enough time to get around to them. That’s why I can’t guarantee winter 2021 seasonal tags on this post...maybe the next one will have them...

Maou-jou 9

…it seems shopping channels even are the same in the demon world.

Now even the demons have quests! (The frame is different to the princess’s, though.)

Oh! The quest failed.

Neo Alraune: in flower language, “the 2nd coming of happiness”. The worry from a little while ago was, “I’m worried about my brother.” The worry from recently: “I didn’t think about being happy that the princess didn’t kill my brother.”

The penguin demons are pretty cute!

Don’t you know how parents forbid children from sleeping until they finish all their homework? Must be something like that.

Yoku ganbarimashita! – Syalis worked hard!

LOL, mental age: 3. Poseidon likes cute things…I can’t read a lot of this…the hardsubs cover the JPN text.

They…both succeeded! (…LOL?)

Maou-jou 10

Owarinocity = Endopolis. It’s a good equivalent, if I do say so myself.

…oh yeah. What happened to Alraune? Update: There she is!

Also, that blonde guy in the infomercials doesn’t look too bad…*makes chef’s kiss gesture with one hand* Nice.

I wonder, was Twilight once human…?

LOL, there’s a goat symbol on the cleric’s pyjamas. Also “first time”, LOL.

I think they were playing shiritori at one point.

Hanamaru saikou yoku dekimashita!

Maou-jou 11

…How does one “sleep cheerfully”, anyway?

I think I saw Twilight drop something…some kind of paper…

Aw, Twilight blushing is kinda cute!

LOL, 70s shoujo style. Also, “It cannot be!”

Whoa, she cancelled it?!

I read up on this series on TV Tropes…and apparently the Demon King captured the Princess in her sleep.

Kagemusha? Like a ninja or something?

Apparently the Demon Cleric is much older than he looks.

Ooh! Hypnos is back!

A-whatsit really is abysmal levels of stupid!!! (LOL)

Maou-jou 12 (FINAL)

Who’s that one tiny guy occupying one of the Ten Kings’ seats?

*watching after Christmas, about a week after the anime finished* This is not seasonally appropriate!

…*thinks for a second, then spits* That’s the 2nd Nemu in the fall 2020 season!!!

Ooh, the head paladin doesn’t look that bad, either.

“…is it good to be…”

“…has seized the princess!”

“…that demon king is rather cute.” – See? Someone agrees with me.

Anyways, that was a fun series. See you soon!

Idolish7 s2 10

…Back at it after so long…(I can’t help it though – Crunchyroll, per month, is about double the local Funimation sublicensor’s fees, and for much less content that’s worth my money to boot!)

I’ve always thought Momo was like Sasara (HypMic), so seeing him anguished hurts me in the kokoro too…

I know Banri was involved with Re:vale somehow…this must be it.

…Male idols are also popular among men? Is this why there are 8 (!!!) idol anime in winter 2021 alone…? (Also, that’s why HypMic became popular? Multidemographic appeal crossed over with obvious merchandising opportunities?)

It’s kind of scary how Momo stepped the formality towards Yuki like that (to -san).

I guess in his heart Momo still reveres Yuki, some way or another.

The rakugo curtain really sold the moment that they (current Re:vale) were acting like an old married couple.

Yay! Silver Sky is such a cool song! Of course I recognised the intro when it came on.

…I see. The elder Kujo is entrusting his dream to Tenn, so that’s why he banned Aya from seeing Tamaki. However, it’s hard to know what to feel when Aya speaks in the vaguest terms possible.

I think that was a special ending for only this episode. I don’t know what its name is, but I guess I might recognise it on Spotify one day.

Idolish7 s2 11

LOL, Nagi’s reaction.

Considering the ‘rona is getting worse outside our very windows as we speak (type?), I think it’s correct to be concerned about your future right now.

Looking at these narrow streets reminds me of going to eat hotpot at the end of my Japan trip…only Japanese streets look like that, I think. Hong Kong’s streets are more crowded than that and America likes their suburbia.

Of course, when you say hajimemashite (nice to meet you), someone’s gotta say it back, hence the reply.

Considering there are people all over the world watching the Idolish7 anime, I would say you are telling the world about I7, Riku.

Oh! Restart Pointer! There was an MV for that one…I think it was around the time Idolish7’s MVs started getting better.

So this is the context around the new outfits! Cool!

There have been way too many puns about “idol” being…y’know, “ai (love) doll” and stuff like that…

I have one Twitter person who I follow (DejiNyucu, part of the creative team for Autumn’s Journey) because I don’t get much I7 content and they keep mentioning this “Haruki” person…and suddenly a “Haruki the Betrayer” showed up in the graffiti…they might be the same person, I think. Not Deji, but Haruki. Update: Sakura Haruki, perhaps…?

Sougo’s such a bad liar…

Sometimes, the best way to deal with things is to be direct…(I’m not very good at that, I naturally talk in a very roundabout sort of way.)

Sougo with long hair like Yuki would be really pretty… (<- has an obvious thing for guys with long hair)

Idolish7 s2 12

Nagi’s stupid accent is generally what he’s best remembered for (for me), so seeing him speak normally, and do a press conference on top of that, is…impressive.

A kabedon on top of all this! Whoa!

Shibuya 109 parody…? (I’ve seen that once or twice – parodying that means people know their stuff about Shibuya.)

I think the “it’s overflowing!” is referring to the hype in the “room”.

…this dejected Momo is worrying…(well, he is worrying and I am worrying about him.)

Oh, I see. The person responsible typed the letter so that they couldn’t be traced back. Kind of like those old movies where the culprit would cut letters out of newspapers to make threat mail, but…with even less traces than that, because cutting letters out leaves evidence.

…wow, it took a while for this ep. to have an intro…

…LOL, I just spotted Kenjiro Tsuda cited as the “fake Zero”, meaning the real one might never show up this season.

There’s something really stupid and infectious about these managers’ enthusiasm for drinking energy drinks. It puts a goofy smile on my face.

Is Musubi Tsumugi’s mother…? Update: Yes, she is.

…Wait, so the Chiba Shizuo guy is actually important?!

Idolish7 s2 13

Whenever someone says “by the way”, it means they’re changing the subject. I hate to state to obvious, but Sougo is clearly deflecting the topic of conversation from being about him.

I wonder if this guy (Haw9) is the actual Zero graffiti vandal…?

Hmph, I didn’t realise Tenn doesn’t refer to Kujo-san as his father, but…like that (“Kujo-san”) instead.

Oh hey! These are shots from Vibrato!

Most dramas can be solved with the power of Good Communication. That includes this one.

I feel like “he has a dark side” describes both Tenn and Kujo-san.

“Everyone, remember to wash your hands and gargle thoroughly.” – This is always a good thing to remember in the time of ‘rona. Reminds me of Jakurai’s line in ARB (<- this game started just after the ‘rona came down).

What did Sougo go to uni for (what specialisation)?

Idolish7 s2 14

I just realised Banri calls Momo -kun. Hmm…

Denki = electricity, LOL.

I feel like Tenn is basically Ramuda, give or take actual pink hair…guys in musical groups with pre-existing angst that they become the “centre” of. The fact Fling Posse have Saito Soma and so do Trigger strengthens the connection.

I would watch the heck out of a musical like that! Make it come true, Idolish7! (Also, today is I7 day! I’m not much of an I7 fan outside the anime, but…that’s cool!)

That shot of them jumping! I remember seeing it on the official site before!

Idolish7 s2 15 (FINAL)

There you go! I was wondering where Banri’s injury was – that was the only bit that didn’t add up for him to be Yuki’s old partner.

Hmm…Momo is 4 years younger than Yuki but 2 years younger than Banri…

This episode has a real concert vibe to it, to the point where I got startled by how loud the yell was at one point. (Even if it is mostly stills.)

LOL, lookit Okazaki!

Apparently, if you’re a hako oshi, you like all the members of a group. Someone with a green light and a pink light likes both members of Re:vale.

LOL, Usagi for Asahi beer.

…I forgot Nagi is 19.

…Ooh, I think that’s the kid from ZOOL. No wonder they needed a season 3!

That’s all. See you next time!

SLS 2

“fine and upstanding person” – That’s…hard to believe, Hayato.

I wonder how many bois Toboso designed for SLS…?

…The episode title is actually “Blank”. Not “Break”.

One of the guys’ shirts says moteki on it. That’s a period in one’s life where one enjoys more romantic attention than usual, literally “popularity season”.

The subs missed an I, so initially I knew Kiriyama’s name as “Kiryama”.

There are meant to be 2 wings, right…?

“He who controls information controls everything, right?” – For once, I’m surprised Hayato is right (and not just in that smug way of his).

“…I’m being treated like a manager.” – But Hayato is a manager! (In a sense.)

The plait guy jumps to nicknames really fast…also, why do I get the feeling Maeshima will lose the key?

I hate to say this Maeshima, but I side with your childhood friend (Kiriyama) here. As much as the anime wants me to back you, I’m watching for everyone else at this point.

That blocky building looks pretty cool. I think Zel (Archi-Anime) would like it.

Sasugai’s setup looks pretty cool, including his chair.

…hmm, Maeshima’s like me in a sense. I learn best by copying others, but memory is my best asset. If I don’t regularly train the fundamentals, I suck at everything. That said, I don’t have an eidetic memory. Also, I didn’t quite figure out Ken = Ken(sei Maeshima) until I watched long enough to connect the dots.

LOL, Derry’s. (<- reminded of a word for “butt” <- derriere)

Well, the guy’s (Souta…?) shirt does say moteki…

Kiriyama kinda looks like Jyuto (HypMic), come to think of it…Right down to his angry streak (although Jyuto has a reputation to keep as a “cool dude”, while Kiriyama is more of a Manza (Boueibu HK) and he’s more angry than he looks).

…This ED is nothing special.

…Hmm? Is that a small Terauchi and Maeshima…?

I think I’m sold for now, but I’m rooting for the other team, not Maeshima’s…not yet, anyways.

#simulcast commentary #skate-leading☆stars #idolish7 #Idolish7 Second Beat!#Maou-jou de Oyasumi #sleepy princess in the demon castle #Chesarka watches I7 #Chesarka watches Maou-jou

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andcurioser · 6 years ago

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So. Let’s talk about Veronica Mars. *deeeeeeeep sigh*

Ok, friends. It’s been a goddamn whirlwind for me. I actually went to the Veronica Mars panel at Comic Con, which I thought was a highlight at the time. They screened the first episode before the panel, and I was all ready to report back to you all that it was real good and to get excited for the new season, but then Hulu had to go and drop the whole damn series during the CC panel, which was a STUPID thing to do (or, at the very least, an extremely stupid thing to announce to the panel at Comic Con - the exact people who would not be able to watch it until after Comic Con, putting them at risk for some really big fucking spoilers. It’s genuinely surprising to me how little the people who are in charge think about these things. If you want to do a surprise drop (which, why, but whatever), sure, go and do it, but definitely don’t announce it to a room full of people who can’t enjoy it and expect them to be excited??). But regardless. That was just a wtf moment. I was still filled with enthusiasm and excitement and happiness that this show was back and seemed to be in good form.

Oy.

Cut to Tuesday morning. I got back from Comic Con on Sunday night, and life goes on, so of course I hadn’t watched 8 hours of TV by Tuesday at 7AM. Which is precisely when my dear friend, whom I adore, but who is apparently an idiot, texted me about how terrible that VM ending was and how upset she was. Now, because I’m a good friend and I know what she likes and we’ve discussed VM at length, it took me all of four seconds to know the gist of what happens in the end. I didn’t know the how or why, but I certainly knew the what. Cue fun spikes of anxiety and random bursts of rage, because what the fuck. Truly, what the fuck. But I placed my certainty at 99% and hopelessly clung to the 1% chance that I was wrong, knowing full well that I wasn’t. This obviously completely stymied any excitement I had for the show, and I dragged my heels for a full month before finally finishing the goddamn show just to get it over with. And now we’re here.

I’ve had a month to ready myself for what I knew was coming. It was both a blessing and a curse, since while it pretty thoroughly ruined my good time, it also meant that I wasn’t totally blindsided by that ending. And man, I would have been blindsided, because there was Z E R O reason for that. None. And now I’ve read all the articles in which Rob Thomas tries to explain his reasons, and they’re all nonsense. Absolute idiocy. All I see is a guy who always, always resented the fans for loving a character he didn’t want us to, who tried and tried to redirect us to one of his preferred creations without success, and just when I thought he’d finally accepted defeat, he pulls the most nonsensical of fuckery just to finally win the battle. Fuck you, RT, forever and always. I can’t fucking believe that I allowed myself to think you’d finally seen the light. What a ridiculous fool I was for giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Since I knew what was coming, I could look for the signs all throughout the season. So I searched for foreshadowing, or at least a narrative through-line. And let me tell you: there isn’t one. The season finally, rightfully seems to address Veronica’s deep-set trauma and trust issues but treats them like a problem and not a secret superpower, and it seemed like the show might expect Veronica to grow up along with the viewers who’ve aged 15 years since the first season? I was excited to finally have Veronica be the problem in a relationship, frankly. It was hinted at with Piz, but glossed over because there was only so much time in the movie, but it was realistic for her to have some trouble adjusting to a long-term, committed relationship, and I was excited to see that journey! I thought it was such an interesting path to go down, watching Veronica grapple with what she wants (or maybe just thinks she wants) vs. what she’s always known, or thought she knows. Lots of stuff there! Good stuff! And you get all the way to the end, when she’s finally decided to try. It isn’t fixed, it isn’t perfectly, she’s definitely got a long way to go, but she’s taken a few tentative steps into an uncertain future. And all of a sudden, quite literally, boom. It’s all gone.

Listen. I was never going to be a fan of getting rid of Logan. However they chose to do it, it would always feel wrong. I have never trusted Rob Thomas to handle Logan well, because he’s always had this undercurrent of anger in every interview I’ve read, this frustration that people love and respond to Logan when he wanted them to love Duncan! Then Piz! Then anyone else! His creations took on a life of their own, and RT hated it. RT was one of the ultimate examples of writers/show runners who were simply watching a completely different show than the rest of us. I could never understand how he wrote such interesting stuff for Logan but didn’t want us to root for him. It never made any sense. But I didn’t think he would sabotage his own show this thoroughly.

Because here’s the thing: I was never going to like him getting rid of Logan, but I could have understood it. I could have gone along with it if it had been done right. Frankly, the way it was building, it wouldn’t have been a surprise, nor would it even have been a bad choice, to have Logan break up with Veronica at the end of the season. And if RT couldn’t handle Veronica not being the aggressor, fine, make Veronica do it. She decides she isn’t willing to put in the work to change that Logan needs from her, and she ends it. Fine. Could work, at least for a few seasons. Let her deal with the loss, knowing it was something she chose, and see how it affects her priorities as she continues on. Certainly could be interesting!

You know what isn’t interesting? This. This is the only - the ONLY - plotline that’s a watered down repeat of a previous story. Veronica Mars, traumatized and hardened by the shocking loss of someone close to her? Quite literally, been there, done that. I know RT has been trying to recapture the magic of season one for every season and iteration since, but just repeating the storyline? Really, really missing the mark. There isn’t anything new that can be added to this. We’ve done this. This will only ever be a pale imitation, a tacked-on sequel hitting the same beats with less force. Lilly was a fantastic inciting incident that yielded a tight, well-thought-out season arc. But why would we want to start over 15 years later? What’s to be gained from this? Literally ANY other ending would have yielded multiple storytelling options, branching out with so many possibilities on where the characters could go. This is the only one that simply slams doors shut.

The few supporters of this ending I’ve seen around the interwebs keep saying things like “this show wouldn’t work if Veronica was happy!” Hell, Rob Thomas is saying the same thing. And to that idiocy, I can only say 1. of course it would, if you write it well, dumbass, and 2. if you think Veronica getting married immediately = happiness, well, what the hell show were you watching? The marriage, much as it could represent a step forward, was still VERY CLEARLY a huge, impulsive jump that was more a reaction than a measured decision. And that was something I was looking forward to seeing. Fresh off of a near-death experience and a renewed assurance of her love for Logan, Veronica marries him thinking that’s the end of their troubles, only to realize that it’s just another complication. Now Veronica has to deal with the new experience of having no quick exit strategy. All the problems they had throughout the season still exist, thinly covered by the veil of newlywed bliss, and she has to reconcile her happiness with her frustration and uncertainty. Logan still disappears at the drop of a hat because of his job. She still puts herself in danger for the case and uses loved ones and acquaintances alike to her full advantage. They hide things from each other. They love fiercely, they trust the other with their own lives but can’t trust each other to take care of themselves. Doesn’t this sound like a complicated, tumultuous relationship full of narrative possibilities?

Well, forget it, because why break new ground when you could retread old storylines? Yeah, that’s what we all want. Great job, RT. So smart.

Something that keeps bothering me is that if RT didn’t want Logan around as the happy husband at home but didn’t want to write more relationship drama between them? He already had the perfect excuse to ship Logan off for entire seasons at a time. Look, Logan’s deployed, oh no, he can’t even skype, he’s undercover! Cool, problem solved. No more Logan, but in a way that still maintains possibilities for the future should we want them. Ideal. Again, options. All you want are places for your narrative to go. Multiple roads it could take so it doesn’t become predictable.

This is predictable. This is boring. This is trite. Our heroes, struck down in their highest moment of happiness. Holy fuck, it’s dull. It doesn’t feel edgy. It feels derivative, a tired rehash of a narrative structure that should have gone out of vogue ten years ago. The whole thing just exhausts me at this point.

And I’ve read Rob Thomas’s justification for why he did it. They’re all flimsy, but if he wants to go do a Sherlock-style, Ms. Marple mystery series, flitting in and out as he pleases, fine. It won’t be the worst show in the world. Veronica’s still a fun and interesting character, and I’ll always enjoy watching her. But removing her from Neptune, and more importantly, removing her from all of her meaningful relationships, takes away what made this show special. The new version RT is pitching could be fun enough. But it’ll still be just one in a long, long line of mystery shows that don’t have much claim to my emotional investment. I might watch, but I’ll forget about it the second it’s over. It certainly won’t be the kind of show with a fanbase that will still be interested in watching more 15 years from now. Rob Thomas won’t be getting one of those again.

So yeah, that’s that. I have much more to say, but really I just wanted to get this rant out so I can put it all behind me. I learned long ago that I can’t trust shows and showrunners, and it’s a lesson I learned partly, if significantly, from Rob Thomas. I suppose it’s on me for letting my guard down, but I guess my hope got grandfathered in from an age when I didn’t immediately mistrust the things that were supposed to make me happy. I’ll know better next time.

#veronica mars #veronica mars spoilers #just in case #so i'll just be here selectively ignoring canon because frankly i know better #the ending was so stupid and tacked on that it's honestly pretty easy to ignore #mostly i'm just fired up about a showrunner mistreating his fanbase so badly after they've stuck with him through so much #just a baffling misuse of the support he was so lucky to still have #so i'll be cherry-picking the parts of s4 i liked with one hand and flipping rob thomas off forever with the other

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cilliankelly · 4 years ago

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text 📱 cillian & jude.

Discord text thread featuring: cillian & @judetaylorhq

When: january 24th

Mentions: @robinscnfm & @claudiafernandez96

Description: jude asks cillian to check his bank statement for him. upon discovering jude has $30k in the bank, cillian freaks out. they argue, they break up, and then they get back together. bc these two literally can not go to bed angry at each other.

trigger warnings: mentions of the car accident.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

actually can you do me a favor

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

anything

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

i left my office computer open, can you check my bank statement and see if a payment went through today? it was like around 400 bucks or something.

my phone keeps kicking me off the app

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

yeah give me a second

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

thanks baby

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i don’t really know what i’m looking at here.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

there should be a business account and a personal one

you'll be looking at the personal one.

and the payment was for my bike, so it's like to a dealership

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i can’t be reading this right.

it doesn’t make any sense.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

it's just a payment babe.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i see that but it says there’s like 30k in this account. maybe i’m looking at the business one hold on.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

no that's right. can you tell me if the payment went through?

we seriously need to teach you about basic bookkeepping huh babe? lol

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

what do you mean it’s right?

no, i can fucking read, i just can’t believe that you have 30k in your personal account???

there’s no way that’s right.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

oh. well yeah i told you i was trying to buy a house

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

jesus christ

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

what?

just spit it out.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i just...??? what are you fucking playing at? acting like you’re still southie trash while you have 30k in the fucking bank?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

playing? we grew up together asshole

i have a fucking job?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

how could i possibly forget?? you with your adult ass job and your adult ass money and your adult ass house?

who just has 30k in the bank?? fucking northies, that’s who. jesus fucking christ.

am i like a fucking charity case to you or something?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

i'm not doing this.

that bank account paid for your fucking hospital bills jackass, you didn't have a problem with me dropping 8k on your fucking leg.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you don’t think i feel guilty about that? you don’t think i feel shitty about contributing absolutely nothing money wise to this relationship?

guess i didn’t have to worry, fucking money bags over here

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

you're being stupid.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

now i’m fucking stupid?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

no you're acting stupid.

you're seriously pissed at me before having a savings account?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

no you know what?

i am fucking stupid. i should have known. as soon as you got that fucking job, we weren’t on the same level anymore.

your life is so fucking together.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

so we're doing this again?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

apparently, yeah.

since i had no idea you were fucking loaded this whole time

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

i'm not loaded that money is spoken for.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

right bc you’re buying a fucking HOUSE at 24

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

jesus christ cillian.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i can’t remember the last time i had more than $100 in my account.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

i guess that's my fault.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i don’t fucking get it

giving ellie hell about her rich boyfriend while you’re making six fucking figures.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

yeah, at a job i work my ass of for everyday. i'm not marrying some rich douchebag.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

no, you’re just dating a broke ass loser with no prospects. so that somehow balances everything out.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

You want me to apologize for having a job? And knowing how to save money?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

no, why should you apologize for being an adult with adult responsibilities and an adult job? clearly i know nothing about any of that, so who am i to say anything at all.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

your words.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

what was wrong with the way things used to be? before you went to fucking school?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

everything? we were miserable and our life sucked?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

well. fuck me for thinking what we had was enough i guess.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

what do you want me to do here, Cillian?

what are you looking for?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i don’t know. i feel fucking stupid.

i feel like i’m always behind. like you’re doing all this shit and i’m just along for the fucking ride. and that fucking sucks.

and you know how i feel about this money stuff. it makes my fucking skin crawl.

i hate feeling like a fucking charity case. like you feel sorry for me or something because i can’t do anything for myself.

i hate needing you as much as i do.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

So what do you want then? You want to break up? You want to move out?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

what so you can continue paying my fucking rent while i live in your apartment? the fuck??

why the fuck is ellie texting me.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Because you don't listen to me.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

so you went to ellie???????????

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Yeah, I did.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i guess that makes sense. of course she would take your side.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

My side of what?

Fuck me for having a job?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i told you how i felt and your response was to ask me if i wanted you to move out and texting ellie to ask her to “check up on me”?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Fine, I'm the one fucking this up.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you??? fuck something up??? that’s my job, remember?

i’m going over to claudia’s.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Great. Yeah go fuck claudia Cillian.

You know what, just stay there. You two can fuel each other's misery and wallow.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

right, because you don’t care if i’m fucking her as long as you can watch.

that’s what we’re best at.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I don't care if you fuck her. Just know you're not welcome back here if you do.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you don’t make any fucking sense sometimes.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Aren't you supposed to be off to cheat on me now?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you asked me not to. and i told you i wouldn’t. but i think you’ve made it pretty obvious that you don’t trust me, so.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I think it's pretty sus that everyone you go to for advice or when we fight is someone you fucked already.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

now you’re acting stupid.

tee is a fucking therapist. and claudia is claudia.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Yeah he's a great therapist, I'm sure.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

at least i could talk to him about my feelings without him threatening to break up with me?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I'm not doing this. If I come home and you're gone then I'll know. That's it.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

how many times have you told me you’re not coming home when we’re in an argument? now i try to get some fucking space and you tell me it’s over? fuck off.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Fine.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

fine what

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Do whatever you want.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

fine.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

you're a jackass.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

not news. asshole.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

find a place.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

so that’s it then. you’re kicking me out.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

everytime we fight you throw it in my face that i take care of you.

so this is me not taking care of you, since that's what you want.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

fine. not as if i haven’t been thrown out before. i’ll figure something out.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

and maybe we should take a break.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i knew it.

it was just a matter of time before you gave up on me too.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

i'm not giving up i'm giving you what you want

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

whatever. i don’t need the excuses. i’m used to it.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

it's not an excuse asshole. i'm the one that's in love with you and wanted to take care of you.

you're the one calling me a fraud because i have a goddamn job.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

whatever.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

fine. so we're done then?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you said you wanted a break.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

fine.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

fine.

an hour later...

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I know you'd stoop low but this is some new shit jackass

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

???

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I meant what I said. If you fuck her don't bother coming back to me. Ever

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i don’t know where this is coming from. but i wouldn’t do that. believe me or not, but i also meant what i said. that you’re the only one i want. sorry if it’s really that difficult for you to trust me.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

It's difficult for me to trust you with her.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

in the month that we’ve been dating, the only times i’ve fucked her is when you invited her to bed with us. don’t give me that shit.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Whatever Cillian.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

no, don’t whatever me

not when you’re the one who has tried to bring her into our relationship multiple times.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Because if I don't you're gonna leave me for her

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

what?

you can’t honestly think that

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Don't act stupid.

Yeah, I do. I know it and tonight proves it

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

where else was i supposed to go?!

she’s my friend jude but that’s it! that’s all she is. i love you and don’t know how many times i’ve told you that. that you’re the only person that matters to me. why can’t you fucking believe me?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Because why would I be your first choice when I'm no one else's?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

jude.

you know that you’re the first and only person that i’ve ever been in love with right? you’re my oldest friend.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Well that means nothing to you bc I have a few bucks saved up

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

a few bucks.

why didn’t you just... i don’t know. why weren’t you honest with me?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I told you weeks ago that I was saving up money. Sorry I didn't give you a bank statement dumbass.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

yeah, well, my mom is saving money. she has like $250 in her savings account.

i felt so fucking guilty, jude. i thought i lost you the fucking house.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I told you not to worry about it

I told you it was fine.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i’m not used to this.

i’m not used to someone looking out for me. taking care of me. not the way you do.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

You should be used to being an asshole you've been one all your life.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

yeah well. painfully used to that one, thanks.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Whatever.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

yeah. whatever.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I don't deserve the shit you give me just because I take care of you. If being with me is such a burden then fine, I release you or whatever. We're through you can be with someone who never gives you anything.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

so i’m an ungrateful little shit then.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Well it's either that or I'm a piece of shit for taking care of my crippled boyfriend.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

is it crazy?? for me to feel like shit for not being able to do for you what you do for me??

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

It's crazy that you have to make me feel like shit about it.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

sorry i’m such a shitty boyfriend.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Yeah. Me too.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

great. well. we done here?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Apparently we are.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

great.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Be safe.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you too.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I am.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you’re home then?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Where else would I be?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i don’t know. just forget it. good night.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Forget what

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

that i even asked.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Why did you ask?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i dunno jude, maybe i just wanted to make sure you were okay.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I'm fine. I'm sleeping alone.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i trust you. even if you don’t trust me.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I'd have more trust if you didn't go straight to the girl who you've admitted you have no control around.

I already cleaned up the last mess you made with her.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

so you keep fucking reminding me. what happened to not holding that shit over my head?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Oh like you're currently holding my job over mine?

You know..

Never mind.

See you around.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

fucking say it.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

You'd rather die in a car wreck than grown old with me.

That's why I can't stop holding it over your head because I never stop thinking about that

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

if that’s honestly what you think

then everything i’ve done these last couple weeks has been a waste of fucking time.

if me actually giving a shit about my future isn’t proof enough then nothing will be.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Right that's why you freaked out at me for having one.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

maybe it’d be better if i had died in that fucking car wreck, huh? at least maybe then i wouldn’t make you so fucking miserable all the time.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I'm not doing this. I'm the one that is planning for OUR future. You're the one that keeps running away from it.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

whatever. i’ve already said everything i can say at this point. this is pointless. i’m fucking tired of arguing.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

So that's it then?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i don’t know anymore.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Fine. I love you. But clearly it wasn't good for you while it lasted.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i’m sorry if you honestly believe that.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I didn't. But the way you're talking now.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

at 3am when i’m fucking tired and pissed at you?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Are you going to come home tomorrow?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

do you want me to come home tomorrow?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Do you want this to be your home still?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i’m still pissed at you.

but you’re the only home i’ve ever had.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Tomorrow then.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

tomorrow.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I love you.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i love you too.

i really hope you know that.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I do. Doesn't mean I'm okay with you being in bed with her and not me.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i’m yours.

i was mad at you. and maybe i knew it would bother you... but i would never cheat on you. with her or anyone else.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I believe you. But I don't trust she won't try something. She already told me if she did you'd say yes.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

she’s pissed at you too.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

She can go fuck herself.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i know you don’t trust her.

but she wouldn’t.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I don't believe that.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

regardless. i’m not gonna let that happen. okay?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Okay.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you’re it.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Forever?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

no matter what happens.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I love you

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i love you too.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Night baby.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i don’t think i’m gonna be able to sleep.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

You'll be fine. You know Claudia's boobs are like sleeping pills, just lay on them. But don't get hard because I'll kill you.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

if i get hard it’s only because i’ll be dreaming about you all night long, babe

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Don't be gross.

𝐜��𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you love when i’m gross.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Sometimes.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i miss you.

and i’m hungry

i really wanted that pizza

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

There still pizza. I'll put it in the fridge for you.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

thank you.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

...I could take tomorrow off?

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

only if you want to. i know i gave you grief but... i mean you don’t have to do that for me.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

It's fine. I'll be here when you get home

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i love you

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I know. I love you too. So much, Cillian.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

you’re my best friend, jude. and you’ll always be my first choice.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I guess I have my own demons to face.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

we’re gonna try together, remember?

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I know. It just feels impossible some times.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

trust me, i know. but we’ve got each other.

i know i put you through a lot. that you deal with a lot of my unresolved shit. and i know that’s not easy. but if you need me to take some of the weight every once and awhile... hold you up... i can do that.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Always. And..fuck.

I just...I'm trying to hold myself together for you. But it's like...even though I have a job and shit...I'm still a disaster.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i put a lot of pressure on you to keep me together, and i know that’s not fair. if you need to fall apart on me i promise i’ll do my best to put you back together, okay?

i love you so much.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

We'll talk about the money tomorrow. It's been a long time saving up. I have a plan. For us.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

okay. tomorrow.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Love you my baby.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

i love you too, so so so much.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

I know. I know. You're my whole world.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

and you’re mine. forever. no matter what happens.

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

No matter what happens baby. Go to bed, come home early.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

okay. i’ll see you tomorrow

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Okay my love.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

all yours 😊

𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟.

Mine 🥰

#discord #texts → cillian & jude

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kawaiikichi · 5 years ago

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There You Are, In My Dreams (Saiouma)

Saiouma “Did someone spike the eggnog?” from the Winter Writing prompts list for @just-a-random-shipper-passing-by! I hope you like it and let me know if you would like anything changed/edited! :D

*Based off of this request*

Title: There You Are, In My Dreams

Prompt: “Did someone spike the eggnog?”

Summary: Shuichi finds himself having to take a tipsy Kokichi home after getting drunk on some spiked eggnog at Rantaro’s Christmas party. Things take a turn when Kokichi stops him from leaving.

One-shot is under the cut!

Shuichi could only stare as Rantaro shoved a very drunk Kokichi in his direction.

“Here, he’s your responsibility now. Take him home.” Rantaro said.

“Yesh! Take me hooooome!” Kokichi slurred out.

“Wait, wait, hold on a minute! Why me?!” Shuichi exclaimed.

“Because you’re not doing anything right now.” Rantaro replied.

“But I—“

“Saihara-chaaaaaaaan! Stop yer whinin’ and take me hoooooome!” Kokichi whined, smacking his chest with his fist.

“And he also wants you specifically to take him home. So, off you go.” Rantaro said before walking off.

“Wait, Amami-kun—“ Rantaro disappeared back into the living room before he could finish his sentence.

Shuichi sighed as he stared down at Kokichi, who kept whining for him to take him home.

“I guess I have no choice...” he muttered.

He shifted Kokichi so that he was riding on his back.

“Alright, let’s get you home now...” he trailed off as he began to head over to the door.

As he toed on his shoes and grabbed Kokichi’s boots, he heard Kaede call out to him.

“Saihara-kun! Are you going already?” she asked.

“Yeah. Amami-kun told me to take Ouma-kun home. He’s drunk, apparently.” he explained.

“Drunk? But the drinks aren’t supposed to be alcoholic...” Kaede tapped a finger against her chin. “Did someone spike the eggnog...?” she wondered out loud.

“Maybe. Either way, Ouma-kun is drunk and I have to take him home.” Shuichi said.

“Well, you go ahead and do that. I think I know who spiked it.” she waved. “I’ll see you on New Year’s, Saihara-kun!” she chirped.

“Yeah, see you then!” Shuichi replied.

He headed outside and began to make his way downstairs to his car as Kokichi spoke.

“Thank gooooooooood!” he shouted into Shuichi’s ear, causing him to yelp in surprise.

“Ou-Ouma-kun?! Why did you do that all of a sudden?!” Shuichi exclaimed.

“I thought you two weren’t gonna stop flirting! Maaaaaaaaaan, you sure know how to prolong a conversation! All I wanna do is go home and yet you be flirting with Kayayday!” Kokichi snapped angrily.

“I...I’m sorry...?” Shuichi answered uncertainly.

I wasn’t flirting with Akamatsu-san, though, he thought to himself.

Kokichi let out a huff.

“I don’t forgive you. You suck.” he said as he blew a raspberry.

Shuichi arrived at his car and unlocked it, opening the back door and placing Kokichi inside.

“You’re scum, Saihara-chan! How dare you flirt in other people’s presence?! Don’t you feel bad for the single people in this world?!” Kokichi whined.

“First off, I’m not scum. Second, we are going to your apartment, okay? So, please calm down until we get there.” Shuichi instructed.

Kokichi reached out and smacked Shuichi’s cheek.

“Ow!” Shuichi exclaimed.

“My answer is noooooooooooo! Imma be as loud as I wanna be...” Kokichi hiccuped. “Lemme be loud!” he screamed as he flailed about.

Shuichi sighed as he buckled Kokichi in and closed the door, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What did I get myself into...?” he wondered out loud.

I regret everything, he thought to himself.

He got into the driver seat and drove off, blasting Christmas music on high in hopes that it would drown out Kokichi’s incessant and drunk whining.

💜💜💜💜

Kokichi giggled nonstop as Shuichi carried him up the stairs to the fourth floor.

“Weeeeeee! I’m flying!” he declared.

Ugh, someone end me, please, Shuichi thought to himself.

He hiked up the last flight of stairs, finally arriving on the fourth floor. He made his way down the hall as Kokichi sang a pop song to himself, giggling and hiccuping every other word.

“Which one is yours again?” Shuichi asked.

“Room Fuck You.” Kokichi replied.

Shuichi glared at Kokichi as he dissolved into raucous laughter.

“Be serious here!” he complained.

“‘Be serious here!’” Kokichi mocked.

Kokichi laughed harder, making Shuichi groan.

“You’re no help!” he barked out as he took out his phone and texted Rantaro.

Shuichi: What is Ouma-kun’s apartment number? He’s refusing to tell me.

Rantaro answered moments later.

Amami-kun: Room 421.

Shuichi: Thanks!

“Geez, Ouma-kun...remind me to make sure you don’t get drunk...” he mumbled as he continued down the hall.

Stopping at Kokichi’s apartment, he set Kokichi down and took out the apartment keys he took from Kokichi’s pocket when they arrived.

“Aaaaaaaaaaah! I’m being kidnapped by a weirdo!” Kokichi screamed.

“Ouma-kun, stop it! I am not kidnapping you, I am taking you home! We are literally in front of your apartment!” Shuichi snapped.

He unlocked the door and kicked it open. Then, he reached down and scooped Kokichi up in his arms, holding him bridal style.

Kokichi giggled.

“Now I’m being carried bridal style...did we get married, Saihara-chan?” he asked.

“No, we did not.” Shuichi deadpanned as he stepped inside.

He closed the door and proceeded to maneuver through the small apartment, heading towards Kokichi’s room. As soon as he stepped inside, he made a beeline for the bed and dropped him down on it.

“There, you’re in your bed now.” Shuichi turned. “I’m going to go now. Make sure you get some rest.” he said.

Before he could leave, however, Kokichi grabbed him by the wrist.

“Wait...stay with me...” he trailed off.

“Huh?” Shuichi answered.

He turned, noticing how Kokichi watched him with a serious look.

“Stay, Saihara-chan.” he said, pulling Shuichi closer.

“Ah!” Shuichi exclaimed as he was pulled onto the bed.

He straddled Kokichi’s hips, his hands on either side of Kokichi’s head on the bed. He stared down at Kokichi, who was watching him with an unreadable look in his eyes. His hands moved to cup Shuichi’s cheeks, stroking them.

“Wow...you have one beautiful face, Saihara-chan.” he commented.

Shuichi blushed.

“Where did that come from all a sudden?” he asked.

“Everywhere.” Kokichi replied.

Shuichi arched a brow at this as Kokichi continued to stroke his cheeks.

“You know...this is one of the many reasons why I’m in love with you, Saihara-chan.” he said.

Shuichi’s breath caught in his throat, eyes wide in surprise.

“What...” he trailed off.

Kokichi smiled.

“I’m in love with you, Saihara-chan.” he told him.

Then, he pulled Shuichi’s face down, their lips coming together in a soft kiss. Shuichi stiffened, not knowing what to do.

Oh my god, we’re kissing. What do I do, should I kiss back or pull away, he asked himself.

Before he could come to a decision, Kokichi broke the kiss.

“But...you don’t feel the same way. So, I see you in my dreams like this and carry out my fantasies that way...” he trailed off.

As he resumed stroking Shuichi’s cheeks, Shuichi began to think.

But, Ouma-kun...this isn’t a dream. You actually did just kiss me, he thought to himself.

He bit his lip.

How long has he been feeling this way about me, he asked himself.

“Uh, Ouma-kun...I’m going to have to go now.” Shuichi told him.

Kokichi chuckled.

“You always do.” he removed his hands from his cheeks. “Now, go.” he said.

Shuichi slowly climbed off of him and he began to head out of the room. He looked over his shoulder, shooting Kokichi one last glance before leaving, closing the door behind him.

He pressed his back against it, his cheeks flushing red as he recalled the kiss they shared.

I still can’t believe we actually kissed, he thought to himself.

His heart raced just thinking about it.

Why was he feeling like this?

#request #just-a-random-shipper-passing-by #danganronpa v3 #saiouma #shuichi saihara #kokichi ouma #winter writing prompts #number 58 #kokichi is drunk af #shuichi has had just enough of kokichi's drunken ramblings #it's actually not that short for once #yay me #kawaiikichi

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aliceinanderson · 4 years ago

Text

two doors down - self para

who?: alice anderson & male oc (with a special appearance from lincoln clarington-smythe) where?: dan & nia’s wedding reception / mckinley choir room when?: saturday, november 7th / monday, november 9th about?: alice has a revelation of sorts while hiding in the bathroom at the wedding and decides to bring her new found confidence to the glee club just in time for dolly vs. taylor week. set to dolly parton’s two doors down.

Alice couldn’t help the niggling feeling of regret that sat in her gut. Yes, the wedding had been beautiful and she had enjoyed watching the married couple’s first dance and it gave Alice an excuse to wear the dress she had been given for Christmas last year, but it became pretty clear pretty quickly that most of Alice’s night was going to spent standing against the wall.

As Jaz & Serenity continued their Wedding Party Opener, Alice felt her stomach twist and turn with anxiety. Wiping her sweaty palms on the skirt section of her dress, Alice did her best to discreetly get up so that she could head to the bathrooms. Head down and shoulder slumped, the brunette felt someone grab her by the elbow and spin her around. It was Lincoln, making his way to the side of stage for his duet, dressed it what Alice had to assume was a recreation of a Doja Cat look from her knowledge of the song she new Bodhi and Link were going to performing. His face was pulled into a look of disapproval and Alice felt herself shrink under his glare. “You’re really going to dip right before I go on? I’ll remember that, bitch,” he stage whispered to her, as if to not disturb the other wedding guests around her. While Alice knew there was more likely than not no actual malice behind his words, it certainly didn’t help with her sudden and intense episode of anxiety and the second he let go of her arm, she dashed out of the hall and into a bathroom stall.

Locking the stall door and sitting on the closed seat of the toilet, Alice put her head in her hands. This was a mistake. She just didn’t know how to be a person in social situations where she wasn’t playing a character. Alice was a nobody, she didn’t have the private school experience that her brother did, she didn’t have the popularity and social circles that some of the other girls in Glee did. And every day she had to deal with the fact she was planning to pack her bags and leave her family behind and run back to L.A. She didn’t belong here but how the Hell was she supposed to belong in L - fucking - A?

“ two doors down they're laughing and drinking and having a party. and two doors down they're not aware that I'm around.”

Alice choked out a sob, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, not caring if her makeup ended up smudged of if she had just ended up with a total snot rocket on her face. She had no plans on going back to the reception. But the last thing she was going to do was call her dad to pick her up.

“ but here i am crying my heart out, feeling sorry but they're having a party just two doors down. ”

Pulling a wad of toilet paper out of the roll and giving her face a quick wipe-over before flushing it, Alice took a deep breath and unlocked the stall, only to be staring at the face of a total stranger through the mirror, who was washing his hands and looked just as emotionally fucked over as she felt. Alice gave the boy, who appeared to around her age, although she assumed he must’ve been from NIa’s side of the family considering she had never seen him around McKinley, a empathetic smile and went up to the sink next to him.

“i think i'll dry these useless tears and get myself together. i think i’ll wander down the hall and have a look around 'cause i can't stay inside this lonely room and cry forever. i think I'd really rather join 'em two doors down. ”

She nudged the other teen’s shoulder with her own, trying to get him smile. Alice hated seeing people sad, it was the last thing she wanted. He let out a breath through his nose, corners of his mouth twitching up. “I’m Alice,” she said as she turned off the faucet, and as she pulled out a few sheets of paper towel from the dispenser, she heard him answer; “Pleasure’s all mine. I’m Coop.”

Alice turned around, nose scrunched up. “Coop? Like Cooper? I wish you didn’t tell me that, that’s my dads name!” she exclaimed playfully, faking a look of disgust that got a proper laugh out of him. God, he had a really nice smile...

“So, you from Dan’s side of the family?

“Kinda, he coaches one of the Glee club’s at my school and my uncle’s were his dad’s students because dad also coached the same glee club, like, a billion years ago. It’s a weird family dynamic,” she explained with a shrug. She tried not to over think how everyone she knew was connected in some way or another. “Enough about me though, Coop, what’s got you so sad for?” She quickly changed the subject, handing the boy some paper towel of his own.

“I’m...not great at parties. Even back in New York, I’m much a mess at them. Big social events with people I don’t know? With two white boys singing Tia Tamera no less? It was just too much for me, I needed to step out for a second.”

Alice nodded in understanding, looking down at her feet. She knew exactly how he felt.

“Come here, lemme fix your face up real quick,” he said softly, holding up a piece of the paper towel he had been given, the corner wetted.

Tucking a section of her hair behind her ear in nervous habit, Alice took a few steps forward until the two were only a few inches away. Coop took the extra step, closing the gap, and carefully wiped away some of the smudged mascara from under her eyes. Alice’s mouth grew dry, breath becoming shallow. She’d never been this close to a pretty show off-stage before...She swiped her tongue over her now-dry bottom lip and watched as Coop’s eyes followed down to her lips.

Oh my God...Was what Alice thought was going to happen...about to happen?!

Coop slowly pulled his hand away, resting the paper towel on the sink bench before bringing it back up and placing it on Alice’s cheek. Her face red, Alice felt something in the back on her mind click and she placed her own hand over Coop’s, his skin warm against hers. Slowly, the two leant close into a kiss.

This was it, Alice’s first ever off-stage kiss with a boy and she didn’t even know his last name. She fucking loved it!

When Coop eventually pulled himself away, a smile curving up across his face that Alice couldn’t help but copy, the two stood, frozen for a few more moments.

“So...my folks were able to get me a room with a double bed, so they could be with my baby sister...if you wanted to, I dunno, stay the night or something.” Coop’s voice was quiet and his tone hesitant, not knowing where things were going to go from here.

Alice reached out and straightened out Coop’s bowtie before letting a smirk sneak upon her mouth.

“‘Or something’ sounds like it could be nice.”

“ two doors down we're laughing and drinking and having a party. and two doors down they're all aware that i'm around. 'cause here i am no longer crying and feeling sorry. we're having a party just two doors down! ”

The two teens ran down the hall of the Inn, hand-in-hand and Alice’s heel clutched in her free hand, past the ballroom and into the elevator.

It felt like a dream. A hot boy from New York City had just kissed her at wedding and now they were going to his hotel room to do...it! Alice had read this trope a thousand times in her books - although they usually ended with the boy revealing he had fangs or something - and never in her eighteen years did she ever think it would happen to her.

“ i can't believe I'm standing here dry-eyed, all smiles and talkin', making conversation with the new love i've found. i ask him if he'd like to be alone and we start walkin' down the hall to his place waiting two doors down, yeah. ”

The two continued to kiss, pressed against the corner of the elevator, until the universally familiar ‘ding’ of them reaching their desire floor sounded. As they stumbled out into the hall, giggling and laughing just like the movies, Coop fished his room key out of her pants pocket as he did, Alice’s face dropped into a serious expression and she quickly placed her hand over the door knob as he went to unlock the door.

“Just so you know, I’m not prepared for the emotional commitment of a long distance relationship and once I graduate I plan on going to California. But I will happily give you my number and social media and if I ever find myself in New York one day...”

Coop laughed, warm and sweet, and took Alice’s hand in his once again.

“Understood. No strings attached. Just two new friends getting to know each other and having some fun.

“Exactly.”

“ two doors down they're laughing and drinking and having a party and two doors down we're not aware that they're around. 'cause here i am feeling everything but sorry. we're having our own party two doors down! ”

Alice felt like a new woman. Well, not literally. Nothing had physically changed and she wasn’t a strong supporter of virginity as a concept in the first place...

But, boy, it just felt so right! She had gotten the ‘talk’ from her dad, about how she only have sex when she was certain it was the right time, right place and with the right person.

And it felt really right.

It was Monday, the start of a new week at school and she had gotten a text from Coop first thing in the morning, saying he was about to board his plane back to New York and she had sent back a ‘have a great flight!! text me when you land!’ in return.

She had a friend from New York now. Wow.

It seemed perfect timing that the women of pop month for Glee was in full swing because she sure felt empowered. So much so that she had dug through her wardrobe until she found something at least slightly reminiscent of a cowgirl inspired look. A lacy maxi dress and a pair of old cowboy boots were all she could find, but with the braids she had done the night before, it got the message across.

Alice strolled into the choir room, head held high and gave a nod to the band who she had spoke to earlier than morning in terms of preparing her song of choice. Dolly had a song for every occasion and this one in particular really spoke to...recent events.

“ oh, oh, ooh, two doors down! two doors down they're laughing and drinking and having a party and two doors down we're not aware that they're around. 'cause here we end feeling everything but sorry. we're having our own party two doors down!

Jumping up on the piano on the key change and throwing in some simple boot-scootin’ choreography during the choruses, Alice let herself act the fool. It was the most herself she had felt performing in a while. Because she wasn’t ‘performing’ for anyone, just singing a song in a room with some friends.

Yeah, maybe Alice did belong in the Glee club after all.

“ two doors down they're laughing and drinking and having a party and two doors down we're not aware that they're around here we end, feeling everything but sorry. we're having our own party two doors down! ”

#tag. self para #// this is... long.... i got carried away sddksk #// because what's glee without a musical number to symbolize having sex at a wedding!?#// also just for my own personal reference coop's hypothetical fc is rj cycler

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floralguccistyles · 5 years ago

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three: a new hope

My first and only relationship had been during my second year of university. His name was James Trinity, and while at first I had been excited because he had the same name as Captain James Kirk from Star Trek, the novelty wore off very, very quickly.

It wasn’t that James had been a bad boyfriend. On paper, he had checked off all the necessary boxes. He remembered dates, sent me sweet good morning texts, and wasn’t an embarrassing eater that I couldn’t take out to restaurants. The problem with James was that he was so...boring. He always suggested we went out to a movie and then dinner for our dates. And while that was perfectly acceptable while we were starting our relationship out and getting to know each other, it got boring after awhile when that was all he wanted to do.

There was also the flower problem.

When my dad picked up my mom for their very first date, he bought her flowers. When he picked her up for their second date, he bought her flowers. When they got married, he didn’t bring her flowers because she already had her own bouquet, but he had drawn a rose on a note and had one of his groomsmen deliver it to her before the wedding. It was a stupid tradition that in reality I actually should have hated, but my heart stopped every time I thought about a guy bringing me flowers. I wanted someone to pass by a bunch of daisies and think, I’ll get some of these for Petra to brighten her day.

James hadn’t bought my flowers.

I knew it was stupid and if James had been my dream man, my deal breaker wouldn’t have been an absence of flowers. But paired with the fact that all he wanted to do was watch movies and eat, and he had been on his phone when my parents had come to London to meet us for dinner, the lack of flowers were a big deal.

After James, there really hadn’t been anyone that had caught my eye. I was more focused on Alien Crossing, anyway. I didn’t have time for a relationship. The only relationships I needed were with Jeremiah, Veronica, and Melody. Anyone else took a backseat.

Except, of course, my parents.

“We were listening to your podcast, love,” my mother said from the other side of the Skype call, smiling in confusion because technology still freaked her out. My dad was the one that dealt with all the computer and phone problems they had, but given that he was in Bristol to help with construction of a school there, my mum was alone this time to deal with the Skype call. She had already accidentally hung up on me twice while trying to turn the volume up. “The lad you had last time, that Harry fellow. Didn’t you go to school with him?”

My experience with Harry on AC the previous week was odd, to say the least. Realistically, he had done fantastically for his first time on a podcast. He had answered my questions seamlessly and the conversation flowed a lot easier than I thought it would have. I supposed it was because he knew so much about music. And though the scores of big movies were different to the music he created, it will still interesting to hear what he thought of them. I had, regrettably, been sitting on the edge of my seat every time he had answered one of the questions I asked. It was easy to discern why people loved him all around the world. He was charming, charismatic, and knew what he was talking about.

I hated him for it.

“Yeah, I went to school with him. He was the one that bullied me all the time and then became a famous singer.”

“Right, right. His mother sent me an edible arrangement once. I offered it to our neighbor a day later because he husband passed away.”

I felt a little stab of selfish satisfaction when she told me she hadn’t eaten the edible arrangement. I’m sure Harry’s mum was a wonderful enough lady, but she had spawned Satan himself.

I hadn’t spoken to Harry since I had watched him drive away from Outset’s lot at around three in the morning. After recording, he had stuck around to listen to the editing that Jeremiah and I did, which was unnverving but we got through it. Then, he had done that weird handshake-bro-hug thing with Jeremiah and had offered me a polite smile. He probably knew that if he tried to hug me I would have thrown him off Outset’s roof. That smile was the last thing I had seen before he got in his nondescript black sedan and drove away.

“So are you two friends now?” my mother asked. She hadn’t thought there was anything wrong with Harry being on the show. She had called me the day after we recorded and when I had complained, she had reminded me that it probably took a lot of guts and courage for him to apologize. She was a little annoyed I hadn’t accepted and forgiven, but I reminded her that I was a grown woman and could make my own decisions.

“No, Mum. Believe me, Harry Styles and I will never be friends.”

I heard her click her tongue disapprovingly. “Sweetheart, he was very kind to apologize,” she reminded me, “and you shouldn’t hold grudges. It isn’t good for you.”

It was the same argument every time. Harry wasn’t brought up much with my parents, but when he was, it was always the same. Forgive him, Petra, he didn’t mean it. Oh, he was just a kid, Petra. I could probably guess what she was going to say verbatim. It did nothing but piss me off. Did they not care that this was the kid who had me sobbing in my room at two in the morning because I felt like shit about myself and it was his fault?

“He made my life hell, Mum,” I said through clenched teeth.

“He was sixteen years old, sweetie. He didn’t mean what he said. And look at how successful you are now! Obviously he didn’t do any lasting damage.”

I wanted to scream. I had weekly appointments with Doctor Thorne. I was hit with waves of insecurity that debilitated me. I sometimes didn’t even want to go out of my house and deal with people because I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for someone to call me names and make fun of me. Of course, she wouldn’t see the lasting damage he and his friends had done. I hadn’t let her known. But dear god, shouldn’t she have seen that something was still wrong? Did she really not know me?

“I’ve got to go, Mum. I’m meeting with the publisher today for my book.”

“Oh, I’m so excited for it! You’ll tell your father and I when it’s available for pre-order, right? We want to get a hard copy and he’s going to load one onto my Kindle.”

When she said things like that, so vocal in her support for me, it made me think being mad at her was foolish. “Yeah, Mum, I’ll let you know. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, sweetie. Give your father a call when you’re free. He misses you!”

I hung up feeling the way I always did. Confused and tired. Talking to my parents shouldn’t have left me feeling so exhausted, but it always did. It was like I was divided into two different versions of myself: the version I was and the version they wanted me to be. I knew they wanted me to forgive Harry, forgive all my schoolmates that had made me go literally mad. But that wasn’t who I was. I wasn’t quick to forgive. And I hated feeling like I had disappointed them because of it.

While I loved what I did, sometimes I wish I had a normal nine to five. If I had a normal job, I would have to bury thoughts my mother had put in my head and be blissfully distracted until my day was over. And by the time five rolled around, I would probably be over it anyway. Instead, I would sit and stew and work myself up. I picked at my fingernails and decided that I wouldn’t allow myself to focus on it today. Today, I would be blissfully distracted.

I grabbed my purse and changed into some leggings, shoving my feet into my slippers while I locked my door shut behind me. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I needed to get out of the house. Melody was unfortunately at work so I knew contacting her wasn’t an option. I could try Jeremiah or Veronica, but I didn’t want to bother them if they were doing something important. Obviously, my parents were out of the question.

So I found myself at a coffee shop.

I had a habit of carrying around a book with me everywhere I went. I kept one in my purse at all times. The book this time around was The Princess Diarist, or the book Carrie Fisher had written before she died. I had already poured over the pages four times, but the book never got old. Ordering a peppermint coffee, which were still luckily around because it was still early January and the festivities of Christmastime hadn’t completely worn off yet, I sat at one of their tables in the back and flipped through the pages of the book, drinking in the words like a giraffe leaning over to drink from a pond. When I read, I devoured. I was sure I looked a little crazy, sitting there wide-eyed and so invested, but I didn’t care.

“Any good?”

I didn’t hear the question at first. It was only when someone cleared their throat that I jumped a little, looking up from the text to see a man around my age standing next to my table. He had a drink in his hand and was offering it out to me. I eyed him weirdly. “What?”

“The book. Is it any good? Also, this is your coffee. My name’s Peter so they messed up.”

I could only stare at him for a few moments, still enveloped in the world of Carrie Fisher before I processed what was happening. “Oh. Thanks.” I took the coffee from him, our fingers brushing just slightly. Peter was an attractive man. He had dark colored hair that was cut pretty close to his head and a strong, angular jaw. His eyes were the same color as the wood grain on the table I sat at. “You like Star Wars?”

“Is that a trick question?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Top three characters, go.”

If my insistence phased him, he didn’t show it. “C-3PO, Obi-Wan, and Vader. But only Vader from the original three. Anakin’s annoying. You?”

I was impressed by his answer. Really, there was no wrong answer to this question, but it was nice to see he had taken my question seriously. “R2, Leia, and Obi-Wan.” I took a sip of my coffee, savoring the peppermint taste before I sent him a smile. “And yes, the book is good. Might change your perception of Harrison Ford a bit, but it’s nice to read Carrie’s version of events.”

“I’ve been meaning to pick it up, but haven’t gotten the time. I was thinking about just ordering the e-book.”

“You should get the print, if you can. There’s something nostalgic about reading her last memoir in an actual book.” I, ironically, had The Princess Diarist in my Books app on my phone, but I much preferred reading it from the original source.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Before he could say anything else, the barista called his name. “Ah, this must actually be mine.” He went to go collect his coffee and I thought that was the end of it. This stranger had just somewhat made my day better and that was all he was going to do. So, I lowered my eyes to my book again. It wasn’t until I heard the chair across from me scraping against the floor that I realized Peter had come back.

“Mind if I sit?” Peter asked, gesturing to the chair.

“Your admission price is a question. Favorite Star Wars film?”

“Well now, that’s a hard one. Empire Strikes Back, probably.”

I crinkled my nose. “I guess you can sit down.”

“Ouch,” he mentioned, though he was grinning. He lowered himself into the seat and scooted the chair back in. “What’s yours?”

“The original three are the best because of their iconic status, no doubt,” I countered, slipping a bookmark into the page I was on before shutting it. “But the new trilogy is developed so much more. And the plot line is better. So I’d probably go with The Force Awakens.”

“The horror,” he said, clutching his chest and laughing a little. It was a nice laugh, deep and strong. It filled my stomach with butterflies. “But I’ll concede. The Force Awakens is brilliant.” He took a sip of his coffee. “So, what do you do, Petra?”

I was going to ask how he knew what my name was, but as if anticipating his question, he pointed to my name scribbled on the cup. I wanted to laugh. “I run a podcast. And I’m publishing a book soon, once my editor and publisher get their act together.” He laughed again and I swore in that moment I would try to make him laugh at least three more times during our conversation. His laugh was too addictive and sexy to not hear it. “What about you, Peter?”

“I’m afraid I live a much more boring life. I’m an accountant.”

“The horror,” I parroted.

“Believe it or not, I enjoy it a lot. I’m good with numbers.” He took another sip of his coffee. I noticed that his hands could wrap around the entire cup and he still had room to lace his fingers together. I almost swooned. Something about a man’s hands was extremely hot. “Tell me more about this podcast. What do you talk about?”

“Mostly stuff like this,” I answered, gesturing to the book I had set on the corner of the table. “Amongst other nerd things.”

“Would these nerd things include Harry Potter?”

“Naturally.”

“Let me guess,” he said, trailing off for a moment as he gave me a once over. “Hufflepuff?”

“I self-identify as a Hufflepuff, but Pottermore has spoken. I’m a Ravenclaw.”

“Damn. Do I get half a point?”

“I’ll give you the full one, just because you’re speaking the language of my soul. Which is, of course, Harry Potter. You’re definitely a Ravenclaw.”

“Hole in one. Though I self-identify as a Slytherin.”

I smiled. I wanted to ask him more about him self-identifying as a Slytherin, but his phone beeped from his pocket. He wrestled it out of his jacket and stared at it for a moment. “Unfortunately, I have to go. I only get a thirty minute lunch break.”

I felt myself deflate like a balloon. “Oh. Right. Have fun with the rest of your work day.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he stood. “I really enjoyed talking to you, Petra. Would you…” he trailed off, chuckling nervously. “I don’t know. Would you want to hang out some other time?”

I was already sliding my phone across the table. “Put in your number. I’ll text you.”

He grinned and typed in his phone number, thumbs almost too big for the buttons. When he handed it back to me, his contact glared at me like a giant neon sign. “I’ll hopefully hear from you soon, Petra.”

“You will,” I assured, giving him a smile.

“Great,” he said simply, grabbing his coffee. “Bye.” The farewell was spoken sweetly and had the butterflies swarming again. I repeated the sentiment and watched him walk out of the coffee shop door, smile permanently on my face.

I was too excited to even pick up my book.

“Are you wearing your good bra?”

Melody’s question came from the small speaker of my phone. She was propped on my vanity dresser in my room, on the tiny FaceTime screen. She had spreadsheets scattered around her on her kitchen table, and I could hear her roommates playing the telly too loudly. Every five minutes or so, she gritted her teeth and refrained from telling them to go fuck themselves.

I’d only met her two roommates once. There was Cassandra, who was a petite girl who Melody had met in uni. She had been there on a volleyball scholarship, which I didn’t think existed until I met her. She had blonde hair that was pinstraight and was always pulled back into a ponytail. The other was Vera, who had been born in Canada and moved to London with her boyfriend from uni. They were still together as far as I knew. I didn’t like being around Derek, her boyfriend, because he never stopped staring at Melody’s tits. Or my tits. Or any tits that were in his vicinity, besides Vera’s.

Therefore, I could understand her ire.

“I didn’t want to come off as presumptuous,” I answered her question, twisting and turning in my dress to try and see how the material moved. I had already tried three dresses and none of them seemed to be working for me. This one was a short green dress, but you could see my underwear line and all my seamless ones were in the wash.

“It’s not presumptuous to wear a good bra,” Melody argued. I heard the volume of her telly turn up and saw Melody roll her eyes.

“It’s kinda presumptuous. Like I assume I’m going to have sex.”

“I hate to tell you this, Pet, but you probably are going to have sex.”

“Still, I don’t want to look like I was expecting it.”

I stripped off the green dress and stood in my room, clad in only my underwear and bra. I heard Melody tisk in the background, so I assumed my bra was not to her liking. I didn’t care. This bra was comfortable and I liked it. Although it was comfy and had completely molded to fit my boobs (as most good bras did over time), it was still white and lacey, so she couldn’t complain much. My underwear didn’t match, but didn’t white go with everything?

“Try the burgundy one. That one makes your legs look long.” This was a feat, because I had short legs. I reached for the burgundy dress she was talking about and held it up to my body, inspecting it in my vanity mirror. It was decent, I decided. Not too fussy but not too plain. “And for God’s sake, put on a new bra.”

“I’m not putting on a new bra,” I admonished, rolling my eyes as I slipped the burgundy dress over my shoulders. It had short sleeves and ended just past mid-thigh. Once it was on, I decided it was perfect. “Coat or no coat?”

Melody snorted. “I don’t care how hot this guy is, he’s not worth freezing your arse off. It’s January in London. Don’t be a twit.”

She was right, of course. I grabbed a black coat my mum had gotten for me a couple Christmases ago. I slipped on some short black boots and did a little twirl. “What do we think?”

“Better if you changed the bra, but this will do.” At my glare, she chuckled. “You look great. You’re going to know Peter on his ass. I can’t believe you met someone as nerdy and weird as you. It’s just your luck.”

“I don’t always have this luck.” I checked the digital clock I had on the stand next to my bed and decided it was probably time to leave if I wanted to make it there on time. We were meeting at a little Mexican restaurant at six, and it was nearing 5:45. “I’ve got to go, Melody.”

“Good luck babe. You’ve got this.”

“Melody, can you shut up? Vera and I are trying to watch Hollyoaks!”

I saw Melody shut her eyes. I could only guess that she was debating homicide. “If I haven’t killed myself by the time you’re back, call me. I want to hear all about it. I might also stay at your place tonight.”

“You’ve got a key. Come over whenever you want.” I was used to Melody letting herself into my flat, especially when Cassandra and Vera were being annoying.

“Might take you up on that. Have fun tonight. Do everything I wouldn’t do.”

I ended the chat and ordered myself an Uber. I really needed to get a car. Maybe I could bribe Zach to drive me around like he did with Jeremiah. Melody had complained that Peter hadn’t offered to come pick me up for our date, but I didn’t tell her that I preferred it that way. In case there was need for an escape, I wouldn’t have to feel pressured into him driving me back to my flat.

I had been looking forward to this date all week. We had been texting back and forth about various subjects of nerd-ism and then after about three days of texting he had asked me out. I would not admit to jumping around my flat like a loon when he finally did ask me out, but I wouldn’t deny it either. It had been so long since I had been interested in someone that I nearly forgot the protocol for how I was supposed to act on the days leading up to the date, but the conversation had still flown well.

Once my Uber had dropped me off at the restaurant, I texted Peter to let him know I was here. Assuming he was already inside, I pushed open the door to the restaurant and walked to the front.

“Hi. Reservations for Gerber.” The hostess clicked a couple of buttons on the computer and gave me a smile.

“Great. Follow me,” she said. I noticed her name tag said Stephanie. I don’t know why I noticed her name tag first, but I liked to know people’s names. My dad had always instilled in me that I needed to be polite and get the names of everyone I came across, whether it was an employee or boss. It showed respect, he mentioned. And it was true. My dad knew the names of all of his builders and still kept in touch with some of the people he had contracted for.

I followed Stephanie to where Peter was sitting at a booth. He was dressed in a nice navy blue jumper and dark black pants, shiny loafers on his feet. I wondered briefly how much accountants made, but didn’t dare ask. I would simply have to look it up when I got home later.

“Wow,” he said, standing to give me a quick peck on the cheek. He smelled heavenly. “You look amazing.”

“You too,” I responded, giving him a smile as I sat across from him.

“You want some wine?” he asked.

“I’m not a connoisseur by any means, so I’ll trust whatever you get.”

He ordered some fancy bottle of red wine I couldn’t pronounce the name of and Stephanie set off to go retrieve it. “How was your work week?” I asked, grabbing my napkin and setting it in my lap. I’d be damned if I let any food get on my dress. “I’ll have you know I’m very intrigued in accounting now. I know almost nothing about it.”

“Lots of numbers, lots of financial documents, lots of typing. The rest of the week was good. I was looking forward to this.” My heart fluttered a little bit at his confession. “But accounting is boring when you’re comparing it to podcasts. How was your work week? Any cool guests?”

“Work week was great. I don’t record this week’s podcast until tomorrow, so I’ve got tonight free. The guest is Ray Holman, who did the costuming for several series of Doctor Who.”

“That’s exciting.” Stephanie brought back our wine and poured us each a glass. When she asked if we were ready to order, I shook my head. “Couple more minutes, please,” Peter suggested. Stephanie left with a smile.

“Have you been here before? I wonder what’s good.” I opened up my menu and started scanning the entrees they had listed.

“I was going to ask you.”

“This is my first time here.” I looked around the restaurant. It was decorated with varying shades of neon colors. It looked like a festival of some kind. There was a mariachi song playing over the speakers that had a lot of trumpet sounds. It made me want to get up and dance.

“Yeah, but you’d probably still know what’s good,” Peter said. I looked at him in confusion and raised a brow. He furrowed his brows, like he didn’t understand what I wasn’t getting about his statement. “You know… because you’re Mexican.”

Because you’re Mexican.

I was lucky. In England, I hadn’t been made fun of for my race until high school, when Nathan Penrose had gotten tired of me not responding to his other taunts and teases. He told me to go back to Cuba, where people like me belonged. I didn’t let it bother me because I knew Nathan Penrose was a jackass. Plus, he had been in high school at the time. Though it was no excuse, teenage boys were incredibly stupid. Peter, however, was no teenage boy. This was a grown man. Who had just said I would know what to order at a Mexican restaurant because… because I was Mexican.

“I’m Cuban, actually,” I said in a whisper, unable to come up with any other response.

“Aren’t they sort of the same thing?”

I wanted to throw up. I wanted to burst into tears. I wanted to curl up in a ball and bury myself underneath blankets. “No,” I responded, my voice still pathetically quiet. “Cubans are from Cuba.”

“But you grew up in Cuba, right? So you probably know what kind of food is authentic or not.”

“I was born in Cheshire,” I tried to argue, but my mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. I didn’t have time to say anything else when Stephanie was back, notepad in hand and a cheery smile on her face.

“We know what we want?”

“I’ll take whatever he gets. I have to go to the loo.” I couldn’t stand up fast enough. I felt the embarrassment fill my veins, like ice water. My throat was tightening, a sure sign that I was going to start crying. I didn’t want Peter to see me cry. The jackass didn’t deserve it. I wobbled in my heels, teetering as I marched to the bathroom, but I didn’t care if I fell flat on my face. It would still be less embarrassing than what Peter had just asked me.

My tunnel vision for the loo was so severe I almost didn’t hear someone call my name. I didn’t realize anything until a hand suddenly grabbed my wrist. I jerked away, thinking it was Peter and preparing myself to scream at him and admit defeat in front of all the patrons of the restaurant, but the face I saw when I turned was familiar and comforting.

“Petra?” Bailey asked. Her short red hair was pulled into a tiny bun at the base of her skull and her blue eyes were watching me with worry. “Are you okay?”

Numbly, I nodded. And then I sniffled. Bailey’s eyes widened. “Come on,” she said softly, standing from her seat. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” I could only imagine this meant a tear had escaped and my mascara was running. “I’ll be right back, lads.”

It was then that I noticed who she was sitting with. There were two men sitting at the table with her, one of them nodding his head and thinking nothing of Bailey’s weird departure. The other, however, I knew.

“Petra?” Harry asked, eyes widening when he saw the tears on my face. “Are you okay?”

I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. I just turned and made a beeline for the loo, feeling Bailey following behind me. I burst into tears fully when the door of the bathroom shut behind me, and Bailey was immediately at my side, brushing my hair away from my face like a mother would to a child.

“Oh, Petra,” she signed out, her gaze pitying. “What happened, love?”

So I told her. I told her about how excited I was to go on a date with Peter, how swimmingly things had gone when we were texting, and then the cold reality that hit me like ice. Her eyes narrowed and hardened as I blubbered through an explanation, my words barely sounding like actual words and more like garbled sounds strung together. Her hands on my shoulders rubbed reassuringly as I buried my face in my hands.

“He’s a prick, Petra. A racist, selfish prick. He doesn’t deserve a second of your time or your tears.” Bailey grabbed some toilet paper from the stall and handed it to me so I could dab my tears away. My makeup was beyond saving, but she grabbed her purse and held out a concealer. “It’ll be too light for you, but it’s there if you want it.”

I didn’t care that Bailey was at least ten shades lighter than me. I sniffled, picked up the concealer, and smeared some underneath my eyes so the mascara tracks disappeared. I looked like a ghost, but I didn’t look like some racist arsehole had just stomped on my heart. I preferred the ghost. “I don’t even want to go back out there.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll take you home. Jeff and Harry won’t mind.”

That brought on the second topic of discussion. “How the hell do you know Harry Styles?”

“I don’t, actually. Jeff and I are family friends though, and he worked with Harry on his record. Jeff just said a friend was in town and asked if he could come to dinner with us.” Bailey raised her finger to blend in a spot of concealer I missed. “But Jeff’s really understanding. He’ll get it if I need to drive you home.”

“I don’t want to ruin your dinner,” I said quietly. “I’m just being stupid.”

“No you aren’t,” Bailey responded vehemently. “He’s being an arse. C’mon love, it’s better than taking an Uber home. Between you and Veronica, I’m sure you’re funding the entire Uber company on your own.”

I managed a small chuckle and tossed the toilet paper in the bin. “How much do I look like Casper the friendly ghost?”

“On a scale of one to ten, an eleven.” But she smiled. “You look fine, love. Let’s head out, yeah? Maybe you, Veronica, and I can have a good old-fashioned slumber party?”

“I’m afraid my front room won’t fit us all.”

Bailey laughed and linked her arm with mine. When we opened the door to the loo, I almost hit someone with it. Standing outside, leaning against the wall, was Harry Styles himself.

“Christ, wear a bell,” I muttered.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He reached out, as if to check me over himself to see if I was alright, but decided better of it. His hands dropped back down to his sides. He probably knew that if he tried to touch me, I’d bite his fingers off like a rabid chihuahua. “What happened?”

“None of your business,” I grumbled angrily.

“But everything’s okay now, yeah?”

I knew he didn’t mean his concern. It wasn’t genuine. He couldn’t give a fuck about my feelings when Nathan Penrose was screaming at me to go back to “where I came from” and he couldn’t give a fuck about me now. “Leave me alone, Harry.”

Bailey and I said goodbye to Jeff, leaving Harry standing outside of the bathroom. I didn’t even look in Peter’s direction as I left the restaurant with Bailey at my side, making sure to slip Stephanie a five before I left. Bailey kept her arm linked through mine, as if she was afraid I was going to fall over if she let go. Oddly enough, I appreciated the support.

Minutes later, I was tucked into Bailey’s small little Volvo and we were on the way back to my flat.

“Do I want to know what’s going on with you and Harry?”

“Too much to explain. I’m surprised Veronica hasn’t mentioned it.”

“She mentioned that you guys grew up together in Holmes Chapel, but didn’t mention much else. There some bad blood there?”

I let out a wry laugh. “You could say that.” We pulled up to my flat and I saw the light on. Must have meant Melody had actually taken my offer. “Looks like Melody’s there.”

“That’s good. Didn’t want you to be alone.” She parked the car and turned to face me. “You’ll be okay, right? I don’t need to stage an intervention?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thanks Bailey. Veronica’s lucky to have you.”

“Damn right she is,” Bailey laughed. She leaned over to give me a quick hug. “Try not to dwell on what that arsehole said. He’s just insensitive and rude. And the first thing I want you to do when you get inside is delete that prick’s number.”

“Will do. See you later.” I hopped out of her car, wobbling slightly on my heels but gaining my balance pretty quickly. I walked to my front door, digging through my clutch to get my keys and holding them up triumphantly to Bailey. I unlocked my door as her headlights faded away.

Melody was sitting on my couch, her spreadsheets spread around her again. She had her glasses on (which she hardly wore) and her hair was up in a wet ponytail. She must have taken a shower. She looked up when I shut the door behind me and waved. “Thanks for letting me come over. I couldn’t get any of my shit done with Vera and Cassandra blabbering about Hollyoaks in the background. How was…” she trailed off when she saw the expression on my face. “Oh no, Pet. That bad?”

“He said I should know what to order because I’m Mexican and I would know what was authentic.”

“He didn’t.”

I nodded as I flopped down on my loveseat, not wanting to disturb the organization strategy she obviously had going for her spreadsheets. “He did.”

“What a prick! I’m glad you wore the bra you did. He didn’t deserve the good bra.”

“No he did not.” I toed off my boots. “I should have known the second I walked into the restaurant. He didn’t bring flowers.”

To anyone else, this statement might seem weird, but Melody knew what I was talking about. “Someday someone will get you flowers, Pet. You’ll be sick of getting flowers. He’ll buy you a whole florist shop.”

I didn’t believe that for a second, but it was a nice idea. “Whatever. Bailey was there with one of her friends and she drove me back. Speaking of which, Harry Styles was there.”

“And the night gets better and better.”

“Exactly.” I shrugged off my jacket. “I need a shower. I want to wash this night off of me. Will you order some take out? I didn’t actually get a chance to eat.”

“Sure. I’ll surprise you.”

I sent her a half-hearted thanks as I made my way to my bathroom. Tossing my dress on the floor as if casting off the events of the night, I turned the water to boiling. My underwear and bra joined my dress on the floor as I stepped into my shower.

If I stupidly cried a little bit more, I made sure my sobs were quiet. I didn’t need Melody knowing how pathetic I was feeling about this whole experience.

Once I was clean and in some warm pajamas, I walked back out to the living room. In addition to the spreadsheets, Melody now had a box of pizza and paper plates spread out on my coffee table. I reclaimed my spot on my loveseat and thanked her for the plate she offered me. “What’re you working on?” I mumbled through a bite of pizza.

“Shit Trennan was supposed to get done. I’m almost done with it, but I’ll be mad about it for the rest of the week.” She looked up and gave me a small smile. “You want to watch Avatar the Last Airbender?”

“I thought you were working.”

“Eh, I can deal with you watching the telly. You don’t scream at it like Vera and Cassandra. Plus, I know seeing Zuko’s character development always makes you feel better.”

She was right.

“Okay.” I grabbed my Apple TV remote and pulled up my Amazon account, where I had already purchased all three seasons. “Thanks, Melody.”

She didn’t look up from her spreadsheets, but she smiled as I clicked on the first episode.

“Who the fuck is at your door at nine in the morning?” Was what I was woken up to. Melody was standing at my bedroom door, clad in the pajamas she had packed when she left her flat last night. I was bundled in my blankets, head barely poking out above the fleece as I groggily stared at her.

“What?”

“Someone’s knocking on your front door. Woke me up, the prat.”

“It might be Bailey checking on me. She and Veronica wake up weirdly early.” I pushed back my blankets and shivered when the cool London air hit me. Shoving my fuzzy socks on my feet before I dared to put them on the cold wood floor, I stood from my bed and blinked slowly, trying to wake myself up. I had watched the entire first season of Avatar the Last Airbender before both Melody and I decided to call it a night. I had gotten about four texts from Peter before I finally decided to just block his number. I didn’t feel like dealing with him again.

“Tell Bailey that the rest of the human civilization doesn’t wake up at nine on Saturday morning.”

“I’ll be sure to pass the note along.” I padded out to the living room. The knocking seemed to have stopped, but I still looked through the small peephole to make sure whoever it was had left. “There’s no one there anymore.” I didn’t remember ordering anything online, but I could have purchased something for AC while half-asleep one night. It had happened before.

However, when I opened the door, it wasn’t a cardboard box at my doorstep.

It was a pretty bouquet of flowers. There were baby’s breath sprinkled in with pretty dusty rose colored tulips. There was some greenery mixed up with them, but the tulips were the center of attention.

“If those are from Peter, toss them in the fucking garbage.”

I lifted them from my doorstep and kicked the door shut with my foot. I brought them over to my kitchen counter, staring at the beautiful arrangement. There was a small little card attached to a silver bow, wrapped around the vase. My fingers shook as I reached for it.

Petra,

I hope you’re feeling better. These are a thanks and a sorry. Thanks for letting me be on AC and getting to know the world of podcasts. Sorry for everything else.

- Harry

P.S. That Peter guy is a arse. Don’t let him get to you.

“Well, shit,” Melody muttered as she read the note over my shoulder.

Well shit indeed.

#1dff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles ou #ac

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