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symptoms-syndrome · 4 years ago

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Alters and Race in White-Bodied Systems

I said I was going to write something up, so I’m going to try. I will try to make this as easily understandable as possible, so please let me know if parts are unclear. This will be a little long because it’s a complex topic, but I hope you try to read it if you can. I’ve broken things up into chunks and made the text large for each header so that it is more ADHD-friendly, and tried to use layman’s terms whenever possible.

Things I’m going to be talking about in this post will be:

What is race?

What are the types of racial oppression?

How do people in DID communities/spaces perpetuate racism?

How can I check myself and avoid perpetuating racism?

Final notes

When I can, I will link to sources. For transparency, I am a nonblack/indigenous, Korean-American mixed race person with diagnosed DID. When I use the term “DID” in this post I am referring to both DID and OSDD.

#1: What is Race?

Race is a social construct, created by white people. It is not based in any science, as science has disproven there are significant genetic markers that differ between different races. “Whiteness,“ especially, has been an idea that has changed wildly over time. (A good book to read about this is called How The Irish Became White.)

Socially, people are divided along lines of race, which are blurry at best. Things like “the one drop rule“ make it so that no person of color (POC, a noun not an adjective) can fully claim whiteness. Whiteness is primarily defined by “not being a POC.”

‘Whiteness,’ like ‘colour' and ‘Blackness,' are essentially social constructs applied to human beings rather than veritable truths that have universal validity. The power of Whiteness, however, is manifested by the ways in which racialized Whiteness becomes transformed into social, political, economic, and cultural behaviour. White culture, norms, and values in all these areas become normative natural. They become the standard against which all other cultures, groups, and individuals are measured and usually found to be inferior (Henry & Tator, 2006, p. 46-47).

(In layman’s terms: Whiteness is created by society, and is now defined as “normal” and “default,” while actively oppressing people of color. People of color, by not being white, are seen as inferior. It’s a catch 22 of not being enough, and when you ARE enough, you’re not considered a person of color anymore, which is exactly what happened to the Irish.)

#2: What is Racial Oppression?

“Oppression” is a word a lot of folks throw around these days, and is commonly defined by what are called the “four Is of oppression.” These four Is are:

Internalized: This is oppression instilled in POC. Thoughts like “if I am more like my white peers, I will be more respected,” “I’m not like those people of color,” and pitting different POC against each other are all examples of internalized racism.

Interpersonal: This is oppression that is between individuals, and the most recognized form of racism. Interpersonal racism can look like calling people slurs, expecting POC to conform to stereotypes, etc.

Institutional: This is oppression built into the society and systems we live in. It can look like schools with higher percentages of POC getting less funding, differing descriptions for the same behavior (hyperactive white children being described as “outgoing” while a child of color is described as “disruptive”,) income inequality, and police brutality.

Ideological: Probably the hardest for people to recognize, ideological racism exists within our very thought processes. White people are told, directly and indirectly, that they are harder working, more deserving, more capable, more advanced, and so on. The inverse is applied to POC. A good example of this is the idea of “welfare queens,” or the idea that someone only got to where they are “by playing the race card.”

All of these interact with each other. Ideological racism is the basis of institutional racism, institutional racism is enforced by interpersonal racism, and progress towards liberation is inhibited by internalized racism, which is instilled in us by all of the above. Oftentimes, these are perpetuated in ways white folks don’t even notice or intend. Offhand comments and other microaggressions (more about those here, in a 2 minute video) can reinforce racism in ways that seem small or insignificant.

Now, onto the part folks are most likely here for:

#3: How Does This Relate to DID?

In DID, alters form for all sorts of reasons, and can look like anything. From demons to angels, fictional characters to animals or objects, the ways parts form can tell someone a lot about that parts beliefs, particularly when they differ from the body. In The Haunted Self, an example is given of a part that believes they are Superman because they cannot be hurt.

When race is involved with this, ideological biases come into play. Though you may not consciously make the decision to have an alter appear a certain way, ultimately, an alter is created by your brain and your brain alone (apart from, of course, the society that your brain/body exist in.) When you are a white person, and your brain creates an alter that appears to be of color, there is a reason. Even “positive” reasons can carry racism, such as splitting an Asian-appearing alter to help with schoolwork. Oftentimes, even without knowing, that reason is due to biases regarding race.

When an alter is created, it does not magically gain the experiences of someone who would actually live in that body. An alter that appears to be a POC has no idea what it’s actually like to be a POC, has no experience with racism, and does not experience any racism. Any racial experiences they may seem to carry with them are a white person’s perception of them, it’s a lot like claiming you know a show because you watched it through a neighbor’s window.

#4: How Can I Check Myself?

So, how do you never do anything racist ever again?

I’m sorry to say, but it just isn’t possible to be 100% non-racist. Even POC cannot be 100% non-racist or anti-racist, because we unfortunately live in a society that is constantly upholding white supremacy and white supremacist beliefs.

However, the next best step is being an anti-racist! Checking yourself for biases you’re upholding or racism you’re perpetuating is an important first step. This is an often uncomfortable and confronting process, and one that never has an end, but an important one. There are a LOT of ways you can do this, but I’ll just list a few that are relevant to DID.

Familiarize yourself with common stereotypes.

The easiest way to find where your internalized biases are with alters that appear to be a different race is familiarizing yourself with common stereotypes and ideas that our society has about POC. These are often tied to things like violence, hypersexualization, drug use, and other negative attributes, but can also be things that on the surface appear to be positive, such as being studious, people-pleasing, or frugal. Regardless of whether the stereotype seems positive or negative, either way it’s still perpetuating racism.

Ask yourself: Is my POC-appearing alter more sexual than others? Are they aggressive? Is my POC-appearing alter a monster (such as a demon or a zombie,) or otherwise less human, like an animal?

Keep an eye on your language

Obviously, if you follow my blog, I don’t support talking negatively about my parts. But in addition to this, when race is involved, it’s even more important. Words like “feral,” “aggressive,“ “sassy,” “soft,” and others can have a more racist impact when used on POC than when used on white folks. Additionally, your POC-appearing alter is not an actual person of color, so avoiding language like “my Asian alter” and replacing it with (when race is relevant,) “my alter that appears Asian” can be also a helpful change. Lastly, and I would hope this goes without saying, but language like AAVE, slurs, and “broken” English are not yours to use if you have a white body. If you wouldn’t let a white person say it, you should not let an alter in a white body say it.

Ask yourself: Would I use this word if this alter appeared white? If I saw another white person talking like this, would I be okay with that?

Avoid cultural appropriation, be aware of culture

A lot of this may seem obvious, such as not wearing native regalia if you are not native, but other aspects of cultural appropriation may not be as obvious. Asian names, for example, are both incredibly personal, important, and significant in Asian culture, and stigmatized against in white society. I don’t know of any Asian folks who do not have a white name they used in school because teachers literally refuse to try and learn our real names. The issue of cultural appropriation is, at its core, that white people are treated differently for doing the same things that POC do, even when it’s originally something that POC created.

Ask yourself: Would someone of x race be treated differently from me doing this? Is this something that POC have been told they cannot do, even though I can?

#5: Final Notes

As I say whenever I do equity workshops, learning does not end here. I encourage you, if possible, to do more research on your own about racial equity! Clicking the links I’ve included throughout my writing would be a good start, and those links may lead you to others. Getting involved with local activism groups, meeting diverse groups of people with varying ideas, and reading would also be excellent ways to further your learning at your own pace.

Reading this may have made you uncomfortable. You might’ve read something and cringed, thinking to yourself “oh no, I do/did that!” in which case, forgive yourself. Learning is always a process, and no one is ever perfect. As long as you keep in mind what you’ve learned going forward, you are not a bad person for having done something racist in the past. We live in a society that at best doesn’t punish, and at worst rewards upholding the racist beliefs we all live with. Discomfort is a part of learning, and if you were uncomfortable and kept reading, I commend you. That’s hard.

This is all written by one person, with one experience and one life story. You may at some point in time talk to someone with an entirely different experience who may say totally different things than me. Use your best judgement.

If you read all the way through and found something useful, and you can spare any change, my cashapp is $beepollen98. Money would be used to prepare for my upcoming gender surgery! Obviously no pressure, I hope you learned something and feel a little more educated, and maybe even enjoyed reading!

As always, my DMs and asks are open if you found anything confusing, and/or have suggestions/questions.

#actuallydid #actuallyosdd #did/osdd #dissociative identity disorder #other specified dissociative disorder #actuallydissociative #did #osdd #race and DID

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threecrowsinatrenchcoat · 3 years ago

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Plant Your Hope With Good Seeds

Dukeceit Week Day 3: Snakes/Bugs

Remus and Janus break up. But literally everyone knows that's not what they want. Everyone, including their plants.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 4337

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

Unknown Number

hey so i kno i said i wouldnt text u but rupert isnt doin good. can i bring him back? he misses u

Janus stared at the text for several minutes. Rupert was, of course, the Monstera Variegata that he and Remus had raised together all the way from propagation. It had been one of the pride and joys of their plant collection. Losing Rupert in the split had hurt almost as much as losing Remus.

...Almost.

Janus

Is it getting enough light? Remember it needed the grow light even next to the window.

Janus texted back against his better judgement. He and Remus were broken up. They’d agreed not to text for a while. They’d agreed to give each other space, get used to being apart.

It sucked, though. The apartment felt empty without Remus and half their plant collection.

Unknown Number

ya i kno. but i don’t have any south facign windows here. our place is better

Unknown Number

i mean ur place

Janus sighed morosely. Well, if it was for Rupert…

Janus

Fine. Rupert can come back.

Unknown Number

yay! ill be in town this weekend. ill bring him ok?

Janus

Ok.

And then Janus promptly threw his phone across the room.

Because here’s the thing. Janus and Remus were broken up. Remus had moved eight hours away and everything. He’d been accepted into the Nuclear Engineering graduate program a state away, and they had both heard too many horror stories about long-distance relationships to brother trying. So they’d had a very civil and mutual split. Janus kept the apartment. Remus took the TV. And they’d divided their plant family between them: they each kept their favorites, and Remus had taken the hardier plants, while Janus kept the ones that were likely not to survive an interstate move.

And then… Remus left.

And Janus had not immediately wanted him back. Not at all.

(And, of course, Janus was lying to himself.)

Remus texted him Saturday morning that he was on his way, and Janus spent the first few hours of the wait stress-cleaning. He then checked on every single plant in the apartment. Watered the ones that needed it. Rotated some of the more vivacious growers so that they wouldn’t lean full-body toward their light source. Moved his small army of Sansevierias out to the apartment balcony for some extra sun.

Then, when all that still failed to fill up the entire eight hours of waiting, he started stress-cooking. So by the time Remus texted that he’d just gotten off the highway, Janus had himself a pot of minestrone soup simmering on the stove, a tray of made-from-scratch lasagna in the oven, and was mixing up a batch of double chocolate chip cookies.

There was no way he was going to eat all this food himself, he realized. He was so used to booking big meals like this, because Remus ate like he was three people. And lasagna was his favorite.

“Oh, Jake, what am I doing?” he groaned to the N’Joy Pothos that cascaded down the side of the refrigerator. And then his doorbell rang.

Janus opened the door to find Remus, dancing awkwardly from foot to foot, with his face half-hidden behind the green-and-white leaves of Rupert.

“...Hey,” Remus said, sounding sheepish. Janus’ heart clenched.

“Hi,” he said. They stood there in the doorway for a full minute before Janus stepped back and motioned for Remus to follow. Remus hesitated, but obeyed.

“Uh… I’ll just…” Remus looked around. Janus hated how uncomfortable he looked. Until about two weeks ago, this had been Remus’ apartment, too. “Can I put him in his old spot?”

“Sure,” Janus replied with a nod. Rupert’s old spot had been in the bedroom, where the big, beautiful south-facing window let in a ton of light. He’d moved Venus de Milos, his Marble Queen Pothos, and La Hoya Jackson, the finicky Hoya Carnosa that Remus had wanted but didn’t expect to make the 8-hour drive without going into shock, to free up Rupert’s spot. Remus hesitated again, before he nodded awkwardly and wandered off to the bedroom, all three feet of plant and two gallons of soil in tow. Janus went to the oven and took out the lasagna.

“Howl looks good,” Remus said when he came back into the kitchen. Janus glanced up from where he was laying balls of cookie dough out onto baking sheets.

“Thank you,” he replied. Howl was their dramatic fiddle leaf fig tree, which had decided to throw a fit just before Remus left. “I switched it to a terracotta pot with peat moss and pearlite, and doubled its water intake. It seems to be tolerating it well.”

“Good.” There was a long pause. Then,” How are you?”

Janus looked back to the cookies. “I’m doing well,” he lied. “And you? Do you start class soon?”

“Next week,” Remus answered. “And, uh. Yeah, I’m doin’ good.” Another long pause. “Uh… I’ll just. Head out, I guess.”

“You could stay,” Janus blurted out. Shit. “For dinner, I mean.” He gestured to the tray of lasagna, fresh from the oven. “If you want.”

Remus gave him an uncharacteristically shy smile, then nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything, though, so Janus just gestured for him to take a seat at the table. And then he joined him, a plate of lasagna for each of them.

“So tell me, how’s living with Roman again?” Janus asked, a few bites into the meal, because he could not take the awkward silence a moment longer.

“It’s ok,” Remus answered. He shoveled another forkful of lasagna into his mouth. “This is really good, Jan.”

Janus smiled softly. “Thank you.” A pause. “Roman doesn’t mind all the plants?”

“Nah, he’s dating this guy Patton who apparently loves plants, so the apartment being full of houseplants is a huge plus to him now.”

“Good for him.” The oven timer went off, startling him slightly. He started to get up, but Remus waved him off.

“I got ‘em, you did all the cooking.”

Janus didn’t protest. Remus got up and took the cookies out of the oven. And he even moved them to a cooling rack like Janus had taught him to do. He came back to the table.

“How’s work?”

Janus sighed. “Oh, terrible as always,” he answered. “I really must start looking for a new job.”

“Finally getting fed up?” Remus teased. Janus rolled his eyes. More seriously, Remus continued, “You deserve better, Jan. You gotta find some place that treats you right and pays you what you’re worth.”

“Thank you, Remus.”

“And hey, just sayin’, I still think you’d make an excellent stripper.”

Janus snorted at that. “I haven’t fully ruled out that particular career change.”

They fell easily back into their usual banter, lingering late into the night over a dessert of milk and cookies. It was pushing 10pm when Remus glanced at his phone and cursed softly. Janus glanced at his phone as well.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so late,” he said. Remus shrugged.

“Nah, it’s cool. Thanks for dinner, Jan. It was real good, as always.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Uh… well, the plan was to stay with Logan, but I guess he had some kind of family emergency, so I don’t wanna trouble him. I’ll probably see if I can find a hotel room.”

Janus’ brow furrowed at that. “Why don’t you just stay here?”

“Oh, uh. I don’t wanna trouble you. I kinda feel like I already overstayed my welcome a bit?”

“Nonsense. A hotel room will cost you at least $100 for the night, and that’s simply ridiculous,” Janus insisted. “You should just stay here.”

Remus worried at his lip, which Janus knew meant he was mulling over his options. Then, he nodded. “If it’s not a bother?”

“Of course not. You’re not a bother, Remus.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and he smiled. “Ok. Thank you. Oh… lemmie go get my overnight back outta my truck.”

When Remus came back inside, Janus had just about finished making up the couch.

“Hey, you don’t gotta get all fancy,” Remus teased. “You know I can sleep basically anywhere.”

“This is for me,” Janus replied. He fluffed up one of the pillows a bit more. “You take the bed.”

An odd look flashed across Remus’ face. “No way, Jan. I’m good on the couch.”

“Remus, you just drove eight hours, and you’re doing it again tomorrow. I am not letting you fuck up your back.”

‘I don’t-”

“Yes you do, no matter how often you say you can sleep anywhere,” Janus scoffed. “You can’t lie to me.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and after a moment, he sighed. “Ok, Jan. But what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You hate sleeping on couches.”

“It’s only one night-”

“And don’t you work tomorrow?”

“Yes, but-”

“You’re going to be so grumpy at work without a proper night’s sleep.”

“I’m usually grumpy at work anyway,” Janus pointed out. Remus snorted.

“Ok, that’s true. But I don’t want you to be even grumpier,” he said. “Let’s just share the bed.”

Janus eyed him for a moment. This was a terrible idea. They should not do this.

“Ok,” Janus said anyway.

They got ready for bed in awkward silence, which just made Janus miss Remus’ long, rambling chatter that much more. When Janus finished in the bathroom, he found Remus sitting gingerly on what used to be his side of the bed. Janus came over and sat down on the other side.

“Hey, uh… thanks,” Remus said. “For lettin’ me stay.”

“Of course,” Janus answered. “I… I still think of you as a friend, Remus.”

At that. Remus grimaced slightly. He didn’t say anything, seeming unable to find the right words. Before he could, Janus pulled back the top blankets on the bed and laid down. After a moment, Remus did the same.

“Good night, Remus,” Janus said quietly.

“...Good night, Janus,” Remus answered. Then he reached over and shut off the light.

Remus played that night over and over in his head in the days after he got home, and each and every time, he was just as stumped.

He knew, in his brain, why he and Janus had broken up. It had been the only thing that made sense at the time, when the facts were just that Remus was moving away to pursue a lifelong dream, and Janus would never ever try to stop him from doing so. So they broke up. It made sense… right?

But… That morning, he’d woken up to Janus curled up in his arms, face smushed against Remus’ neck, and… Remus had completely forgotten why they had even broken up in the first place.

Remus was back at Roman’s apartment, now. Eight hours away in his own cold bed, arms empty of the man he loved, just staring at the ceiling. A sharp knock on his door snapped him out of his daze.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” Roman called. “Don’t you have class in like an hour?”

“Fuck!” Remus scrambled to get up, but succeeded only in rolling out of the bed.

“Don’t forget to lock the door when you leave,” Roman added. Clearly he was unconcerned by the loud “thump” of a body hitting the floor.

“Yup, got it,” Remus groaned in reply. He staggered, successfully this time, to his feet.

Getting dressed was a rushed affair of ‘grab whatever’s closest,’ and soon he emerged from the bedroom with one shoe on, the other in his hand, and his backpack slung over one shoulder. He rushed into the kitchen to grab the travel mug of coffee Janus always set out for him in the mornings. And then the realization hit: Janus didn’t live here.

Remus dropped his shoe.

The rest of the day went about as well as it could have gone without any coffee- that is to say, terribly. He got lost trying to get to campus, then he got lost again trying to get to class. Then he got stuck in traffic on the way back to Roman’s apartment. And then, to top it all off, the grocery store had been out of his favorite chips.

So here he was, mopey and chip-less, and fucking exhausted. He dumped his backpack and collapsed face-first onto the couch. Roman, who happened to be sitting on said couch, made a noise of protest.

“Move, I need to sulk,” Remus mumbled, though his voice was thoroughly muffled by Roman’s thigh, since that was where his face had landed.

“What on earth do you need to sulk for?” Roman asked incredulously. He moved to shove Remus off of him, but Remus went full ragdoll, and Roman couldn’t do a damn thing. “You are a grown man, you know.”

Remus turned his head just enough to stick his tongue out at Roman. Roman stuck his tongue out back.

“I had a terrible day, I earned a good sulk.”

“Didn’t like your classes?”

“Nah, they were great.”

“Professors?”

“Great.”

“Classmates?”

“Great.”

“Then Zeus Almighty, what are you so mopey-dopey about?” Roman remanded.

Remus squirmed around so he was laying on his back, head still in Roman’s lap, to look up at his brother. “So… uh… you promise not to get all, like. I told you so and shit?”

“You miss Janus!”

“No! I-”

“You do!” Roman crowed triumphantly. Remus rolled onto his side so he didn’t have to look at his brother’s dumb gloaty face.

“...Maybe,” he groaned. Abruptly, he clamored to his feet and started for the stairs. “I gotta go build a chair.”

“Carpentry won’t solve your relationship problems,” Roman called after him.

“I know,” Remus called back. “Wrong type of wood.” If Roman had a response to that, Remus was already out the door and didn’t have to hear it.

Patton found him out in front of the apartment building some time later, a jigsaw in hand, and a pile of cut wooden dowels at his feet.

“Hey, kiddo, what are you up to?”

Remus looked up from where he was balancing a plank of wood precariously across a milk crate, because his work table was one of the things he’d had to leave behind at Janus’ place.

“Oh, hey. Ro-bro’s upstairs.”

Patton gave him the sort of smile teachers gave to the kid they caught eating glue for the fourth time. “That doesn’t look super safe. Do you want any help?”

Remus took in Patton’s soft blue sweater and the dad-jeans from the nicer end of his closet, as well as the reusable grocery store bag that smelled suspiciously like some kind of lovely home-cooked meal; he shook his head. “You look dressed for a date night,” he said. “I don’t wanna fuck up two relationships this week.”

Patton’s eyes, impossibly, got even bigger and softer than they normally were, which honestly was quite the feat. He walked over to the stairs but, instead of making his way up to Roman’s apartment, he plopped down on the third step, facing Remus. Remus stared, bewildered.

“Uh, what’chu doin’ there, pops?”

“Well, it just sounded like you needed to talk,” Patton replied cheerfully. “So here I am.”

Remus stared a moment longer, somehow even more bewildered than before. “Uh…”

“I know I haven’t known you very long,” Patton continued. “But something tells me you’re the type of person who busts out the power tools when you’re upset.”

“How the hell can you tell that?”

Patton glanced over his shoulder, then leaned forward slightly. “Because,” he said, voice lowered conspiratorially. “I’m like that too.”

Remus blinked. “You?”

“Yup! I replaced all the tables and chairs in my house with ones I made myself after my last breakup,” Patton giggled. “Only two of them collapsed when I sat in them, too!”

Remus glanced down at the jigsaw in his hands, and then he sighed. He set it down, and went to sit next to Patton on the steps.

“Ok, well. Yeah, maybe I’m kinda upset.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah? No? Maybe?”

“Yup, those are your three options!” Patton teased. Remus rolled his eyes.

“Ok, fine. You win, daddy-o. I’m upset because I miss my boyfriend. Or, well, my ex-boyfriend. I want him to be my boyfriend again.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Of course not,” Remus whined.

“Why not?”

“Because… I mean. It wouldn’t change anything. I still moved away. And I don’t even know if he’d want to be my boyfriend again either. Maybe he’s happier now.”

“You don’t know that,” Patton said gently. “Sure, maybe the circumstances aren’t the best right now, but if you both want it, things have a funny way of working out. But you have to talk to him.”

“I…” Remus paused. And then he sighed deeply. “I guess you’re right. Hey thanks, that did actually sorta help.”

Patton offered him a gentle smile. “Of course, Remus! Any time!”

“Hey!”

They both turned to see Roman standing at the top of the stairs, arms crossed.

“My own brother, hogging my boyfriend like this! The betrayal-”

“Relax, Ro, he’s not my type,” Remus shot back. “I prefer sarcastic little menaces.”

Patton giggled at that. He stood up and patted Remus on the shoulder. “I hope things work out,” he said. Remus smiled back.

“Yeah, I hope so too.”

Really, he just wanted Janus to be happy. Ideally with him, but if Janus was happier without him, well… so be it.

- - -

Janus was miserable.

“Dude, c’mon,” Virgil grumbled, immediately upon seeing the state of the apartment. “You’ve been watering your plants and filling the humidifiers, but you can’t be bothered to throw out your gross pizza boxes?” A pause. “Wait, you don’t even like pizza, what the hell.”

Janus just shrugged. After letting Virgil and Logan into the apartment, he’d gone straight back into blanket-burrito-on-the-couch mode. And really, he’d only bothered to get up and let them inside in the first place because Virgil had threatened to axe down the door- and Janus knew for a fact that Virgil owned multiple axes.

“I believe he is engaging in what is described as ‘emotional eating,’ or using food as a coping mechanism in a time of stress and emotional turmoil,” Logan said helpfully. Virgil just huffed.

“That’s fine and all, but Jesus Christ, dude.” He gestured around the livingroom where… ok, yeah, it was a mess.

“Did you two come here just to insult me?” Janus grumbled. His face was half-mashed into a pillow, though, so who knows how much of that was actually discernible.

“We came to make sure you were still alive,” Virgil snapped, indicating that at least most of what Janus had said was discernible. “You weren’t answering any texts.”

“Yes, and you called out of work three days in a row,” Logan added. “We are concerned for you, Janus.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Janus lied from the comfort of his depression blanket burrito. He was not particularly surprised when neither Virgil or Logan looked even remotely convinced.

“Alright, drastic measure time,” Virgil growled. He walked over to the window, and picked up the young Burgundy Rubber Tree Janus had yet to name. Janus sat bolt upright.

“Virgil? Don’t you dare-”

Virgil walked past him and vanished down the hall. When he came back, his hands were empty, and he had a smirk on his face.

“Oh, fuck you,” Janus hissed. He dragged himself up off the couch to go rescue the poor thing, finding it stashed in the dark, windowless bathroom. When he came back to the livingroom, Virgil and Logan were sprawled across the couch.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Janus set the rubber tree back on the windowsill alongside the Snake Plant Army. “Ok, I’m up. Are you heathens happy now?”

“I take offense to that,” Logan muttered, while Virgil just crossed his arms and said, curtly, “Spill it.”

“Spill what?”

“Why are you so upset?”

“I’m not upset-”

“Falsehood,” Logan interrupted. “I have known you since high school, Janus, and I have never seen you like this before. It is highly alarming.”

“Is this about Remus?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Janus said immediately. “Of course not.”

Virgil and Logan exchanged a Look. Janus groaned.

“Fuck. Ok, fine. Maybe it is.”

“Was that so hard?” Virgil asked.

“Yes.”

“You-”

“Janus,” Logan interrupted Virgil’s retort. “It is my understanding that emotional distress is often alleviated through, as they say, ‘talking it out.’ It is clear you are not handling the break-up as well as you initially believed-”

“Of course I’m not!” Janus snapped. He took a deep breath, and turned back to the plants on his windowsill. Kaa, the Sansevieria Moonshine Remus had gotten for Janus as an anniversary present last year, was already leaning slightly toward the window again. He rotated it, and a few of the other snake plants on the sill. And then he realized the others had been quiet for far too long. He turned to find them both watching him with sympathetic expressions. “What?”

“Keep going,” Virgil prompted. Janus sighed. He felt exhausted.

“Of course I’m not,” he said again. “Because I love Remus.”

“And?” Virgil prompted.

“...And I didn’t want us to break up,” he finished, feeling glum. Wordlessly, Virgil stood up, and approached Janus, arms out. Janus stepped into the embrace. Nobody said anything; Janus didn’t cry, but he stood there for a long time. Then, he stepped back.

“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it. Virgil gave him a small smile. Logan cocked his head, seeming confused.

“I don’t understand. You just… needed a hug?”

“Hugs are great, Logan,” Virgil replied. “You should try them sometime- hey, where are you going?”

Janus strode past them both, beelining for his bedroom to find his laptop. Over his shoulder, he answered, “To fill out some job applications.”

- - -

Remus was outside building a new bookshelf- because Patton was moving in, and Roman's teenie-tiny sad little excuse for a bookshelf, which held only Disney DVDs and no actual books, wouldn’t suffice for all of Patton’s cookbooks- when his phone rang. Which was weird, because nobody ever called him, because he never fucking answered.

“Not interested, Mr. Spam Man,” he crooned over the sound of the generic iPhone ringtone. He was learning how to do kerf bending for this bookcase, and goddamn it he wasn’t going to be distracted by-

His phone started ringing again. He swore and ripped off his gloves to silence his phone. But as he did so, he realized the number flashing across his screen was a familiar one.

“Janus? Are you ok?” he answered the call, half panicked, because Janus hated phone calls almost as much as he did.

“Hi. Yes, everything’s fine.” Janus sounded slightly hysterical, which made Remus feel even more frantic. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Roman’s. Are you sure you’re ok-”

“Great, don’t leave. I’ll be right there.”

“What does that mean-” Remus demanded, but the line was already dead. Remus swore again. He briefly considered calling him back, because what the actual fuck was that all about, but he was only about 30 seconds into that brief consideration before a familiar car tearing through the apartment complex parking lot caught his attention. He quickly brushed as much of the sawdust off his clothes as he could because holy shit Janus had just parked right there in front of Roman’s apartment.

Remus watched, dumbfounded, as Janus scrambled out of his car- dressed in his very nice black suit and pale yellow button-up- and came running across the lawn toward where Remus was working. He had a tiny plant clutched to his chest.

“Uh, Jan, you good?” Remus asked. Janus stopped in front of him and doubled over, breathless, for a few moments. Then, he straightened up, and fixed Remus with a look of sheer determination.

“Remus. I want to get back together.”

Remus’ heart, the traitorous bastard, leaped up into his throat and blocked all his words from coming out.

“It’s… it’s ok if you don’t want that,” Janus continued. His look of determination faltered slightly. “It’s ok. But I needed to tell you. Because I love you, so much. And I… I didn’t want you to think I didn’t, even if you don't-”

Remus found his words abruptly. “Jan, fuck! I do! I do love you. I never stopped loving you. All I want is to be with you.”

Janus’ eyes softened. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Good, because I’ve just been offered a job here.”

Remus choked. Janus was eyeing him smugly. “You. Just like that, you got a job here?”

“Just like that,” Janus grinned. “I just came from the interview. They offered me a position on the spot.”

Remus couldn't help himself any longer. He lurched forward and pulled Janus tightly into his arms.

“Hey, be careful,” Janus said, though he made absolutely no effort to get out of Remus’ embrace. “You’ll crush our new son.”

Remus pulled back just enough to look at the small plant Janus held in his hands, and only then did his brain register what it was.

“Is! Is that-”

“Yes,” Janus replied, holding up the tiny Drosera Capensis seedling. Remus had wanted one of these for ages.

“For me?”

“Well, for us, ideally,” Janus answered, with a shy smile. “But, mostly for you, yes.”

Remus gently plucked the baby octopus plant- their new son!- from Janus’ hands, and placed it carefully on top of the milk crate that was serving as his carpentry workbench. Then, he hoisted Janus up off the ground and spun him around.

“Oh- Re-” Janus exclaimed, though he was laughing. “Put me down!”

“No!” Remus trilled. He spun Janus around once more. Then he just stood there, holding Janus, gazing up at him. Janus’ eyes grew soft. Slowly, he carded his fingers through Remus’ hair.

“Hey,” Janus said.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Remus set Janus down, but kept his arms still wrapped tightly around him. His heart felt warm.

“Hey.”

Janus looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“I love you, too.”

#dukeceit #dukeceitweek #remus sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #kye writes

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hoboal87 · 4 years ago

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Carry On

Pairing : Sam x Reader, Platonic!Dean x Reader

Summary : One year after defeating Chuck, Sam and Dean are still hunting, but you’ve quit the life. When the boys take a vacation that quickly turns into a hunt, none of you expect it to change your lives forever.

Characters : Y/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, mentions of Bobby, Jody, Donna and the Girls

Word Count : 3.1k (I tried to keep it below 3k, but...😕)

Warnings : SPOILERS FOR 15X20, Angst, Feels, Fluff (it gets a little gross at the end), A Sprinkling of Pre-Smut, Pregnancy

A/N : This will keep the canon of the finale, and takes place during and after 15x20, but with an added reader insert. This was written as a sequel to “The Tie” but can be read as a stand-alone.

A/N 2 : This is my entry for @negans-lucille-tblr “6k Roll the Dice Challenge.” My prompt is “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace,” which is bolded.

No Beta, all mistakes are my own.

Check out my Masterlist here

You pull another book down from the library wall; everything has been relatively quiet since Jack took over Heaven, Rowena has put a leash on the demons, the only monsters you and the boys had to worry about were run-of-the-mill, so to speak. Adjusting to this new life is easier than you thought it would be, using the last year to learn that without the necessity to hunt, you and Sam were finally free to live your own lives. After Chuck was rendered powerless, you decided to give up hunting for good. Sam won't, you know that, Sam and Dean had been hunting their whole lives, but you were thrust into the life.

You make your way back towards your shared room with Sam, twirling the small diamond ring on your finger, passing Dean’s along the way. You peer inside, glad to see that the once mass trove of empty beer and whiskey bottles were gone. Sure, there’s still a few bottles strewn throughout the room, but nothing like it was before. In the months following Cas’ death, Dean had been a shell of himself, drinking himself into an early grave. He never told you or Sam exactly how Cas summoned the empty, or why it took him along with Billie. Dean always kept himself bottled up, until he would explode, letting his grief out by way of yelling and screaming. Cas’ trench was usually hanging in the corner, but it wasn’t there now, Dean must’ve taken it with him. Dean was still in pain, that much was clear.

Sam and Dean are off at some pie fest, and you opted to stay behind. You waved the boys off, asking Dean to eat a pie just for you. Sam and Dean needed this; brother time. It was something that rarely happened since you joined them over five years ago, even before you were with Sam, you, Cas or Jack were always tagging along. You saw it as the perfect opportunity to take some time for yourself as well, figuring out where you and Sam would go from here. Sam talked about going back to school, finishing his degree and applying to Law School again, he even had you buy him books on LSAT prep. You talked at length about taking the next steps in your relationship, you couldn’t ever get legally married, but you starting planning a ceremony anyway. Before Chuck was gone, you were content to just be, never needing more, afraid that it would be ripped out from under you the minute you let your guard down.

As you settle into your and Sam’s bed, book in hand, you feel as the weight that’s been sitting on your chest has finally lifted, you can breathe. It's been years since you've been able to truly relax, and as much fun as a pie fest sounded, you wanted to stay at the bunker, taking comfort in your and Sam's shared room. They’d only been gone a few days, but you already missed Sam terribly, pathetic, you know. Never in your life would you have imagined wanting and needing someone like you did Sam. The next morning you wake up to a text from Sam. The brothers mini-vacation quickly turned into a vampire hunt, a nest John had hunted years ago. The boys could handle it, you know that much, it's a milk run compared to everything they've fought over the years. Be Safe, Love You. You responded and went on with your day.

Sam always keeps you in the loop when he and Dean go on a hunt without you, providing you with a source of comfort knowing that they’ve killed the bad guy or solved the mystery. But now, they’ve been silent for too long, a nest of Vamps shouldn’t take more than a few days, and you start to worry. You’re heading towards the garage, determined to track down Sam and Dean, and lay it on thick about how worried you were when they went silent. You’re about to open the door to the garage when it swings open and Sam’s long body fills the frame. It startles you at first, even causing Miracle to bark in surprise. You throw your arms around Sam, all anger gone now that he’s back home with you.

“Don’t ever do that again!” You scold Sam. “You know how much I hate it when you and Dean stop responding.” You want to be mad, but you’re so focused on the fact that Sam’s back home with you again, that nothing else seems to matter. “If you’re gonna keep hunting you have to keep me in the loop,” you mumble.

Sam’s body stiffens against your touch. It takes him a minute, but he reciprocates your hug, pulling you tight against him. You stand there, waiting for some smart remark from Dean, normally barking at the two of you to get a room, but there’s nothing but the echo of the Impala’s engine filling the air. You try to pull away from Sam, but his grip around you only tightens, this hunt must have been more difficult than he or Dean anticipated. Head pressed against Sam’s chest, you can hear his heart thumping loudly and rapidly. Dean would never let you and Sam hold on to each other as long as you have.

“Sammy?” You whisper, trying to pull away again. Sam’s grip finally loosens, but his hands don’t leave you as you take a small step back. Your eyes travel upwards, finally landing on Sam’s face, his eyes are bloodshot and puffy, almost as if he has been crying. “Sam? What’s wrong?”

Sam shakes his head as tears fill his eyes.

“Where’s Dean?” You ask as you watch Sam slowly break down. His head nods towards the Impala, and you pull away completely from Sam’s embrace.

You run towards the Impala as fast as your legs can carry you, a swing open the back door, hoping to see Dean’s shining emerald eyes. Tears blur your vision faster than you can comprehend what you’re seeing. Dean’s lifeless body lays in the back seat, all color drained from him. You scan him desperately, waiting for some kind of sign that this is all a cruel prank, that he and Sam were trying to get one over you for not coming with them on this hunt.

But, there’s nothing.

You scream out, falling to your knees, Dean was just as much your brother as he was Sam’s, he was your best friend, and now, he’s gone. Your cries fill the otherwise silent garage, he can’t be dead, not like this, not on some vampire hunt, something he’s done a hundred times before. Not when you know that he was looking to settle down, find some normalcy, or at least normal for him. He deserved to live, he didn’t deserve to die at the hands of a monster.

Dean wasn’t going to be there when you and Sam got married, when you told Sam about the baby you were carrying. God, how were you going to tell him that? Dean was going to help you surprise Sam, as soon as they came home, he was going to start dropping hints, see how long it took Sam to figure it out. But now, you stared at his body, tearing streaming down your face, you couldn’t stop crying if you wanted to. Sam’s strong arms wrap around you, holding you close to him, and you both sit on the floor, unable to do anything but mourn the loss of the elder Winchester.

Through your sobs, you can hear Sam trying to offer you some comfort, assuring you that he went down saving the victims. You could barely process anything he was saying, and if this is how you felt, you can’t even begin to imagine how he feels. Dean was the only real family that Sam had left, there had to be a way to get him back.

“No, baby,” Sam murmurs in your ear through his tears, “I promised him. No bringing him back.” You didn’t realize you had said it out loud. “He wants us to keep going, he wants us to live.”

Three days later you’re surrounded by all the family you’d gained through the boys. Jody, Donna, Claire, Bobby and Charlie plus too many people to keep track of. You and Sam had already given Dean his proper send-off, dividing his ashes between the graveyard where Mary and John were buried and keeping the rest for yourselves. Jody told the story of the first time she’d met the brothers over ten years ago and how she’d come to think of the boys as surrogate sons. Claire talked about the time she and Dean went mini-golfing and how offended he was when she didn’t understand his Caddyshack references. The bunker was full laughter, it was Dean told you he wanted all those years ago.

You and Sam couldn’t stay in the Bunker after that. You’d left it open to all hunters, you’d still come back occasionally, but it was no longer home. You and Sam packed up most of your and Dean’s things, fitting as much as you could into the Impala, knowing that the two rooms would always be off limits to future hunters. Sam nearly slides into the passenger seat when you leave, and you can see it hitting him all over again. Dean’s gone.

You drive around the country for a few weeks, unsure of where to make your new home. Neither of you ever had a real home before moving into the Bunker, and you were the only family you had left now. You settle in Sioux Falls, Jody and the girls were there, Donna was close enough, and if need be, you could be back in Lebanon in a matter of 5 hours.

You find a small house close to where Bobby’s used to be, it is still a salvage yard, but Bobby’s house is long gone. As the weeks pass you don’t know how much longer you can keep your pregnancy hidden from Sam. Every time you try to tell him, it feels wrong; you are both still grieving the loss of Dean, and Sam has fallen into a deep depression. You have Jody take you to your doctor appointments, and she scolds you for not telling Sam, but when she drops you at your new home, and sees the current state of Sam, she backs off.

At your next appointment, she laughs and cries with you when you learn that you were carrying a boy, Dean. When you first told Dean that you were pregnant, he immediately insisted that the newest Winchester should be named after him, “boy or girl!” He insisted, “I’m named after a Deanna.”

“I think the world only needs one Dean Winchester,” you retorted playfully. Now, it seems the perfect way to carry on Dean’s legacy.

When you leave the doctors, you finally realize how obvious it is that you’re pregnant, your stomach rounding out perfectly under your shirt. You’re almost insulted that Sam hasn’t noticed your ever-growing stomach and the extra pounds you’ve put on over the last month, but he hasn't been himself since Dean died. You hadn’t been intimate with him since you settled into your new house, and he spends most of his day sleeping or in a fugue-like state.

Jody insists on taking you shopping for baby supplies, and by the end you’ve got a shopping cart onesies, blankets, something called a diaper genie, and many other things you didn’t even know you needed. As you walk through the store an iron-on name display catches your eye, and you make your way towards it. The names are written in large cursive lettering, and you hope that you can find the right one. You nearly squeal when you do, and find a plain onesie to attach it to.

You’re glad that the baby store carries labeless bags, especially when Sam is up and about when you get home. He looks good today, he’s slightly sweaty, and you know that he left the house and went for a run. He greets you with a quick kiss, a sheen of sweat covering his face, and makes for your room. He eyes the bags in your hands, but doesn’t say anything, and a few minutes later you can hear the shower running. Thank God, you sigh and take the bags into an empty room, Miracle following closely behind you. You set the bags down in what will be baby Dean’s nursery, Jody’s right, you think, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.

You find the onesie and the iron-on decal, you place it in the center and carefully attach the decal. After letting it cool you tuck it into a small gift bag. You hear the shower turn off, and make your way back into your bedroom, placing the bag on your bedside table, waiting for Sam to exit the bathroom. You can’t help but stare at him appreciatively when he opens the door, a towel wrapped around his waist. You’re suddenly very aware of how long it's been since you’d been with him. Sam catches you eyeing him, and smirks, sending a jolt straight down to your core. You missed this, not just the sex, but how he takes charge with you, his domineering presence making you melt. He leans over you, and places a tender yet eager kiss on your lips.

You reach for the towel, letting it slide onto the floor as Sam deepens the kiss, and start to work him over in your hands. Sam groans at your touch, and starts to pull at your shirt, pulling his face away just long enough to rid you of it. Sam’s lips are back on yours just as quickly as they were gone. His hands palm at your breasts, and you moan into his hands reach into the overflowing cups, you really loved your pregnancy boobs, but your bras were doing very little to keep them in place. Sam’s hands travel to your back, and undos your bra, letting your breasts fall free. Sam finally opens his eyes when his hands land on your protruding stomach and takes a few steps back.

He quickly pulls on a pair of sweatpants as you pull your shirt back over your head, trying you best not to cry as he starts pacing the floor of your bedroom. You wait for him to say something, anything; you weren’t trying when you realized you were pregnant. You’d just gone off your birth control, and everyone told you it would take at least a few months for your body to get back to its natural cycle. You both knew it was possible but figured you’d have at least 6 months before really actively trying for a baby.

Sam’s face is almost unreadable; you can’t tell if he’s happy or mad, if he’ll tell you it’s too soon, that he’s not ready. He opens and closes his mouth multiple times, as if he can’t figure out what to say. If Dean were here, he’d probably knock him upside his head, telling him this exactly what he’s always wanted.

“How– why–” Sam stammers as you move to the edge of the bed. “Are you– You’re pregnant.” He says it almost as if it’s a question and you nod your head. “How long?” There’s almost an accusation in his voice, you’re sure it’s not intentional, but it doesn’t make you feel any better.

“18 weeks,” you murmur, trying to hold back your tears. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but it’s– it never seemed to be the right time. When you and Dean–” Sam winces at the mention of Dean’s name, you hadn’t said it out loud in almost a month, not since you left the Bunker. “I found out right before you left, I was going to tell you when you got back. But… after… I was afraid that you’d say it wasn’t the right time. That it was too soon.”

“It is too soon,” Sam mutters under his breath, you’re sure it’s not meant to be malicious, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “You said it would take at least 6 months.”

“It’s different for everyone,” you offer, as Sam runs his hands through his hair, still pacing in front of you. “Please, Sam, can you sit down? You’re freaking me out.” Sam moves to the edge of the bed, and sits down next to you.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Sam whispers, eyeing your belly. “I don’t know how– I don’t know how to be a dad.”

“Yes, you do,” you grab his hand, and place it on your belly. “Dean taught you everything you would ever need to know.”

Sam smiles sadly, “I ever tell you about the night I left for Stanford?” You shake your head. “Dad and me, we got into this huge fight. So of course, Dean steps in– gets between us, attempts to calm us, but we were both just– just too fucking stubborn to listen.” He removes his hand, focusing down on them as he fidgets. “When dad said don’t come back, I called his bluff, and I was– I was so pissed at Dean, I thought he was taking Dad’s side, that I didn’t even say bye to him. I didn’t have it myself to go with grace. I walked away from him, the only family that I had, and I regretted it for years. I- I feel like he should be the one here, that- that we’re moving on too quickly.”

“Dean, he– he wouldn’t want you, us, to live like this, we owe it to him to keep fighting, to live our lives. I know how much you miss him,” a tear slips from Sam’s eye. “I miss him too, but you know what keeps me going everyday?” Sam shakes his head, and you take his hand in yours again, and place it back on the swell of your belly just as little Dean decides to kick for the first time. The smile on Sam’s face is instant, you can’t stop the happy tears from falling as Sam shifts in front of you, and lays his head on your swollen stomach. “Our son.”

Sam cries, truly cries for the first time since the day he brought home Dean’s body. You hold him against you, he’s been so pent up for the last 3 months, bottling up his emotions, he needs this, you both do. You’d been so focused on the baby growing inside of you never realized that you hadn’t realized that Sam had never come to terms with Dean’s death.

“It’s a boy?” Sam asks as his cries cease. “We’re having a son?”

“We’re having a son,” you nod, and hand Sam the gift bag still sitting on your bedside table.

Sam opens the bag, and you smile as he pulls out the green onesie, his eyes lighting up as he reads the lettering.

“You’re sure?” He questions.

“The world lost one Dean Winchester, let’s give it another.”

Please give let me know what you think! Reblog or send an ask

Forever Tags:

@that-one-gay-girl

@akshi8278

#bees6krollthedicechallenge #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #supernatural spoilers #supernatural fic #spn family #pregnant reader #supernatural #daddy!Sam

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starlost-andfound · 3 years ago

Text

at the divide // d.s (seasons change au)

Warning: The events in this au are an addition to the timeline of Seasons Change by @chilling-seavey (also pic credits to her <3). To avoid spoilers, please go read that amazing masterpiece first (and check out her other writing)

Inspired by If I Get High by Nothing But Thieves

Summary: Daniel searches for Marigold’s presence in a time he misses her the most.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death and grief, alcohol consumption, kind of unedited

Word Count: Approximately 3K

A/N: If you want to really feel this one, listen to If I Get High by Nothing But Thieves and Marigold and Daniel’s song Cover Me Up by Morgan Wallen

I'll meet you at the divide

To break the spell

It was too good to be true, like a fantasy with a tragic twist, a hope for a sunny day clouded by storms. Daniel carried a heavy heart yet he felt empty. His heart beat in his chest, pumping life into his veins but he loomed around in silence. He was a ghost haunted by the walls of his own home. The house was draped in an eerie quiet, so quiet Daniel could hear the clock ticking in his bedroom from downstairs. He set aside his freshly washed plate in the drying rack and dumped his emptied beer bottle in the bin. When Lennox went to school, lunches were painfully quiet. Daniel often found himself in front of the TV, eating his lunch with the background noise of any program playing on the screen.

With a sigh he rested his hands against the counter, leaning forward. His eyes drifted to the living room, where a line of photo frames stood on the mantle above the fireplace. She was everywhere. Daniel didn’t know whether that was a blessing or a curse. The clock ticked rhythmically, Daniel couldn't count the hours. His fingers traced the frames on the mantle. She was always smiling, even when it hurt the most. He never understood how. How could she hold all the rays of the sun while her star collapsed? He was the moon without a sun sharing its light, a dark unlit sky with lonely stars.

Stars. Lennox. Daniel smiled shakily, his vision blurring as he stood in front of the last photo on the fireplace. Even as the faces and colours blended together with his tears, he could still remember the image clearly. Lennox’s first hockey match. Lennox was squashed between Daniel and Marigold, wearing his hockey gear. They all held matching smiles on their faces. She was everywhere and maybe that’s what made it so hard to let go, suffocating when her presence was embedded in the air around him.

Daniel grabbed himself a beer and sat down on the couch, picking up a familiar belonging: a scrapbook Marigold had crafted for them, celebrating their early dating anniversaries. The book’s cover was brightly decorated with stars and stickers. He sat down, tracing his fingers over the scribbled text in her handwriting. He flipped through the pages, taking his time to trace the stuck-on tickets and read the small love letters Marigold had delicately weaved in her writing.

A point where two worlds collide

Yeah, we'll rebel

His mind felt dizzy with the slight tinge of alcohol. All the memories printed into the scrapbook seemed like distant conversations and hazy images. He turned the page over, his eyes falling to a scribbled date in the middle and countless doodles and stickers in the background. His heart dropped as his mind took him back to one of the most special nights in his life.His mind and heart pulled him down like an anchor into the sea, dragging him deeper until there wasn’t enough light left to see.

Daniel wiped the stream of tears off his face, closing the book. He sunk down farther into the couch, holding his head as he cried. He exhaled shakily, feeling a light feather touch trailed up his shoulder. Daniel tensed as he heard a whisper. The voice was smooth like a calming wind, familiar like the arms of a lover.

“Why so many tears, my sweet?”

He opened his eyes and from the blurry mist in his eyes he saw the form of the woman who carried his heart.

“Sunshine,” he breathed. Daniel threw his arms around her in an instant. He cried, clinging on to her tighter as sobs shook his body.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Marigold held him close, rubbing soothing circles over his back. She kissed his head as he cried. She tried to pull back slightly but Daniel only held her closer.

“How- you-you’re here-I don’t know what to do, Marigold,” he whimpered. “I can’t do this without you.”

“Why would you say that, hmm?” she pulled back and cupped his cheeks. Her thumbs wiped the tears from his cheeks. “You’re doing so well, my sweet. I am so proud of you.”

Daniel shook his head from side to side. He gripped her shirt and rested his head against her chest. His lips trembled, “I just want you back.”

Marigold sighed quietly, “You know that’s not possible.”

“Please don’t go. ”

And we run

Until we break through

“I won’t leave just yet,” she stroked his hair gently.

Daniel sniffled, and looked up. He reached his hand up, brushing his hand along her jaw and then cupping her cheek, “You are very real.”

Marigold laughed softly, “Yes, I am here.”

“Do you-” Daniel held her hand. “Does it hurt anymore?”

Marigold smiled, “Not anymore, no.”

Daniel smiled shakily, feeling the tears build up again at the answer he wished he had heard many months ago. He sat up and his hands reached up to caress her cheek. She had this golden glow that reminded Daniel of when she was carrying Lennox. “You’re so beautiful.”

Marigold smiled.

Daniel pressed his forehead against hers, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, my sweet.”

He leaned closer, pressing his lips on hers. Her soft lips and skin disappeared under his touch, fading into the air. Daniel fell forward on the couch, his hands gripping the fabric. He snapped his head around in search of her, letting out a strangled cry as he was met with the walls of his living room.

If I get high enough

Will I see you again?

Daniel was falling into a routine and he was growing to hate it. With no energy by noon, he often landed on a couch, a drink in his hand and the multiple CD’s of home videos by his side. He never drank too much before Lennox came home. Lennox was the only light which filled the gaping hole in his chest but the sharp taste of the beer numbed his mind. It calmed the storm of emotions he carried inside, just for a few moments and for him that was enough. Daniel entered the living room with a beer in his hand, heading to the CD’s by the television. The text on the CD covers were fading where he held them, some more than others, exposing the amount of times he watched them.

I feel my loss every night

Not long to wait

He slumped back down on the couch with a beer bottle in his hand as the video loaded. A crackle echoed over the speaker before a soft voice spoke.

And if I do this thing right

I dream of our escape

“Lennox, say hi,” Marigold whispered behind the camera.

She zoomed in on a baby Lennox, waddling around the flowers in the garden in his small yellow boots. He wore one of Marigold’s old sweaters, far too small for her but slightly too large for the little boy. The sleeves and hem of the sweater were rolled up, hugging his body. Spud turned to the camera and grinned, his two little teeth sticking out. He waved his arm at the camera and turned back to the flowers decorating their garden.

He pointed at the bunch of hydrangeas and tugged at his sweater, “Blue. Like mine.”

Marigold gasped, “Yes, well done my shining star!”

Spud giggled and the camera turned just as Daniel’s car rolled into the driveway.

“Daddy’s here!‘ Marigold captured Daniel stepping out of the truck with a smile. Lennox squealed, running to Daniel with his hands up. “Dada!”

Daniel scooped him up into his arms, bouncing him gently, “Hi Spud, I missed you!”

Marigold shuffled closer to Daniel, the camera lens covered as they shared a quick kiss, “Hi my sweet.”

“Hey sunshine.”

The camera flipped, fitting all three of them into the frame. Lennox grabbed the camera in his hands and pressed the lens close to his face.

“Oh, careful Spud.”

The curious child attempted to hold the camera out like his mother, pointing at the flowers, “Blue!” The garden twisted into a spiral as the camera tumbled out of his hands and the video cut off.

Daniel sniffled quietly and took a gulp of his beer. The next video began to roll. He heard the familiar sound of her footsteps down the stairs. The camera trailed the floor until it lifted up outside the house, pointing at Daniel.

“Look how handsome my baby daddy is.”

Daniel glanced up at the camera with a bashful smile. Marigold pulled him up by his arm so he could be seen better and she set her hand against his chest, giving him a pat.

“I’m going to have to keep close eyes on you at Sunday brunch. All the ladies are gonna want a piece of this.”

“Oh my gosh.” Daniel chuckled shyly.

“And my other handsome man!” Marigold added, shuffling around the open door to get a good shot of the baby in the car seat. “Gonna be fighting the ladies off you too, my beautiful boy.”

Lennox blinked up at her but her same smile could be seen forming behind his pacifier that bumped excitedly against his little nose. Marigold turned the camera around as she leaned in with Daniel, capturing both of them together and Daniel just smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

She looked up at him lovingly, “Happy first Father’s Day, my sweet.”

“Thank you.” Daniel smiled, meeting her halfway for a kiss. “And thank you for making me a father.”

They shared a few more kisses and ‘I love you’s until Lennox let out a small cry.

“Oh my.” Marigold said, addressing the camera again as Daniel left the frame to care for Lennox, “Well, when Lennox says it’s time to go, it’s time to go! We have church to get to and a bunch to show off at.”

When she was a few steps away, the camera caught her admiring her husband over her shoulder as he finished buckling in the baby.

She looked back to the camera and spoke gently with her wide grin spread all over her soft face, “Lennox Blake, if you’re watching this some time in the future when you’re grown up and annoyed by your parents – just know that you have the best daddy in the whole stinking world. I picked him out myself for you so that’s how you know he’s good.”

The camera clicked softly and a another video played.

The screen zoomed in on Daniel and Lennox across the grass. Lennox was tucked up on his shoulder and Daniel was pointing out little flowers and the buds on the trees as they walked. He finally looked over and caught Marigold filming, a shy smile taking over his face and he rested his head against his son’s tiny body.

And we run

Daniel was a mess, his stray tears turning into quiet sobs. He turned off the TV, the bright screen of colours and memories turning into a reflection of his pain. He chugged down the rest of his second beer and dragged himself off the couch. The air felt stuffy, like he couldn’t breathe properly. He swayed as he stumbled to the garden door, nearly falling down the steps. A choked sob left his lips and he covered his mouth. He stormed past the bushes of overgrown, wilting flowers.

And we run

Until we break through

Daniel stumbled to the back of the garden, grabbing the support of the garden swing. The tears fell down his face , smudging the darkening colours of the flowers around him. He slid down to the grass, leaning his head back. Daniel dug his fists into the ground, tugging out strands of grass with a yell. The pain in his chest burned into tears and he closed his eyes, drowning himself in his loss. His head felt heavy with what remained of the alcohol in the system and his tears. A soft breeze rustled gently.

If I get high enough

Will I see you again?

A soft hand brushed his cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“My sweet.”

Daniel shook his head, “No, go away.”

“Daniel, my sweet. It’s okay, I’m here.”

He wiped his eyes and took a shaky breath as he saw her again. “Mari.”

“Come on, let’s get you up.” Marigold reached out her hands to pull him up to his feet. She dusted off his shoulders and smiled. “There. Much better. Come on.”

Daniel sniffled, his eyes focused on Marigold in some state of confusion and surprise. Her arm was wrapped around Daniel’s as she guided him inside the house. He lifted his finger to touch her cheek. Marigold giggled softly, “What are you doing?”

“Where are we going?” his voice cracked.

“I haven’t seen Apollo and Venus in so long,” Marigold smiled, looking up at Daniel. “Let’s go for a ride.”

Daniel moved at a slow pace, trotting beside Marigold on her horse. Marigold looked around at the green fields ahead of them, a glow in her eyes. He watched how her hair moved in the wind, her blonde curls flowing. The sun reflected on her face, and Daniel smiled. Her face was full of colour, no longer pale, no longer lifeless. For once she seemed at ease and Daniel had forgotten what that felt like.

Marigold slowed down to a stop and for the first time Daniel turned his head away from her. He gasped softly, instantly recognizing their surroundings, their spot. He followed her movements as she climbed off her horse and sat down at the spot where he would normally park the truck. Marigold shifted closer to Daniel, if it was even possible, and placed her head on his shoulder.

Daniel held her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. Marigold sighed, “No matter how many times we come here, the view still takes my breath away. It’s beautiful.”

Daniel hummed in agreement but his focus seemed to lie on staying as close to her as possible.

“You haven’t been singing much lately, my sweet,” she remarked.

“I know,” Daniel mumbled. His voice trembled and he took a moment to breathe. “It’s hard.”

Marigold smiled softly and caressed his cheek. “Could you sing something for me?”

Daniel nodded. His voice was quiet, just barely above a whisper. “A h-heart on the run.” He gulped. His eyes connected with hers and he sighed shakily. “Keeps a hand on the gun. You can’t trust anyone. I was so su-s”

Daniel’s head bowed down and he wiped his eyes, “I-I’m so-sorry-”

Marigold shook her head, cupping his cheeks. She wiped his tears away and smiled softly. “I was so sure. What I needed was more, tried to shoot out the sun,” she sang.

Daniel lifted his eyes to hers, his frown breaking into a shaky smile. “The days when we raged, we flew off the page. Such damage was done,” he joined in unison.

Marigold stood up on her feet, reaching out her hand. Daniel stood up, his hand in hers as she pulled him closer. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and Daniel held her waist, sucking in his breath. “But I made it through, 'cause somebody knew I was meant for someone.”

They swayed gently from side to side. Daniel cried quietly, pulling her closer until there was barely space between them, his forehead against hers. They shared the kisses that had been stolen from them, singing the unfinished lyrics of their song with their lips just a touch apart. A setting sun cast a dreamy light over the couple. Daniel’s singing was consumed by his tears and he buried his head in between her neck and shoulder. He held her tighter, his tears staining her beautiful dress.

“So cover me up and know you're enough.” Marigold rubbed her hands soothingly over his back and kissed his shoulder. “To use me for good.”

Marigold moved her hands to his chest. Daniel didn’t move, wanting to be in her arms. “My sweet, it’s getting dark. We should get home.”

Daniel pulled away reluctantly, holding her hand as they walked back to Apollo and Venus. Marigold waited by his side as he climbed his horse. She placed her hand on his knee and they leaned closer, their lips meeting each other halfway. Daniel nearly wished he couldn’t breathe when he pulled away for a breath. Marigold pecked his lips again before climbing her horse.

She travelled forward, Daniel following behind. Marigold sped up, urging her horse to gallop faster. Daniel frowned and tried to catch up with her.

“Sunshine,” he was an arm’s reach away.

“My sweet,” Marigold turned back to him with a smile, but it wasn’t the same. There was some underlying loss in her smile and it made Daniel’s heart drop to his stomach. “It’s time to go.”

“Sunshin-” he hurried Venus to run faster. “Sunshine! Marigold, wait!”

And we run

Daniel struggled, panting. The wind blew harshly in his face as Marigold moved faster, turning into a blur. Marigold faded farther and farther away until she disappeared. He cried out for her, his voice dying out into violent sobs. “Mari-stop!”.

Venus turned to mist from beneath him and Daniel fell to his knees. He pulled himself up, ignoring the ache in his legs and he broke into a sprint.

He felt himself fade the faster he ran, hearing a voice call out for him, but it wasn’t hers. The distance he covered never seemed enough as the fields ran endlessly in front of him. His legs gave out under him and he fell, head first into the grass.

Until we break through

Daniel’s eyes opened and he turned over with a groan, feeling someone shake his shoulder. “Dad, dad!”

He sat up in a sudden movement, startling Lennox. Daniel pulled himself to his feet, marching past Lennox to the stables.

“Dad, what happened? Where are you going?” Lennox followed him, his school bag bouncing on his bag as he kept up with his father. Daniel entered the stables, his shoulders falling as he found the horses well kept in their pens.

“Dad?” Lennox walked up to his side and held his arm, looking up at a distraught Daniel. He looked down at Lennox and brushed his hand over his head. Daniel pulled Lennox close, hugging him tight. Lennox welcomed the hug, unknowing of the inner turmoil in Daniel’s heart. He could still feel her in their own shining star, little remnants of sunshine and beautiful blooming flowers.

“Let’s go inside, Spud,” he whispered.

Lennox pulled away with a smile and jogged back into the house. Daniel watched him go before he turned back to the stable. He looked past the open entryway where the green fields stretched out to the horizon, meeting the sky.

And we run

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

Taglist: @jonahlovescoffee @bessonbae @hiya-its-amber @stuffofseaveyy @hopinglimelight @the-girl-who-cried-wolf

#Daniel seavey #Daniel seavey imagines #seasons change

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hauntedbythefanficsofmypast · 4 years ago

Text

When you need a Superfriend

By Nach0Ava

On Archive of Our Own

Tumblr user: @nach0ava

So I have not really watched Supergirl however when I read the first chapter I had to share this with you all! This is the first chapter by Nach0Ava. (Second chapter is on its way as well!) Marinette gets sent away by her parents to America! Please go read Nach0Ava's story!

Summary:

When Tom and Sabine believe Lila's lies, they send Marinette off to live with an old family friend in National City. When living with a government agent and a physiologist, how long is it until she gets figured out?

Chapter 1:

“I don’t understand! Why are you sending me away?”

Marinette looked up at her parents in disbelief. They had just told her that she was going to be sent to live with a family friend. In America! Sure, she could speak fairly good English, but it still didn’t make sense!

“Your recent behaviour has led us to think that the change could be good for you. Kelly and her girlfriend Alex are lovely people, and they might be better equipped to deal with you than we are.”

As her mother spoke, Marinette felt a bitterness rise in her. Of course. Lila. She had made good on her threat, managing to turn even her parents against her. Claiming that she was involved in a gang, she had an older boyfriend, she did drugs, the list went on. And when Tom and Sabine had caught Marinette out past curfew one too many times, they took it as the truth. She couldn’t tell them that she was Ladybug, so all she had was half-hearted excuses. Still, she needed a way to stay in Paris, as she couldn’t be Ladybug somewhere else, and if there was no Ladybug, there was no-one to catch the akuma, and no-one to cast the cure, never mind all her guardian duties…

She was getting off track. She had a goal and she needed to accomplish it. Just like taking down an akuma. Except she couldn’t hit this problem really hard for it to go away.

“Is there any way I could stay in Paris? I’ll switch schools, I’ll go live with grandpa Roland, I’ll do anything!”

Tom and Sabine exchanged a look. They didn’t want to believe it, but they had to make sure.

“Honey, calm down, aren’t you worried about an akuma?”

Marinette started pacing as she rambled, mostly to herself.

“Right, I’ll get upset, then you guys will get mad at me, and then one or both of you will be akumatised and then I’ll have that whole mess to deal with.”

Tom reached out a hand to her shoulder to stop her pacing.

“You aren’t worried about you getting akumatised?”

Marinette shook her head.

“No no, I’ll be fine.”

A slight push from her bag and the looks from her parents made her backtrack.

“I mean, I’m really good at calming down before they get to me, I mean, it’s worked so far right?”

She let out a nervous chuckle while her parents stared at her.

“Marinette… Are you working with Hawkmoth?”

Marinette looked for the start of a smile from her mum, the laughter in her dad’s eyes, anything to say they were joking. When the just kept staring she burst into laughter.

“Haha, you guys… You guys really thought… Haha, that’s hilarious!”

Her parents failed to see the humour and gave her thatlook.

“Remember all those times I’ve been attacked? Reflekta, Horificator, pretty much any akuma that clones or traps people I’ve gotten tangled up in.”

Not technically a lie, she never said she got hitspecifically, but she definitely got attacked.

“Well, maybe you should get out of Paris anyway. It’s clearly not safe here, and maybe it’s best for you to leave. You’ll like it in National City, they even have their own superheros!”

Great. A reminder of what I have to give up because of Lila. She was about to keep protesting, but she felt three quick pushed on her side by Tikki. We need to talk.Her argument died on her tongue and she sighed.

“When am I meant to leave?”

Her parents exchanged relived looks.

“The plane is booked for next Friday. That gives you about a week to pack up. We could mail over a box with all of your sewing things once you get settled, if Kelly and Alex are ok with it of course.”

Marinette fought the eyebrow that was threating to raise. A week? I was hoping for some more time to test and train a new guardian, and a new holder for Tikki. It would be a rush, and there weren’t many people she trusted anymore. Still, there was work to be done, so she had to get started.

“I guess I’ll go start packing then. Can I be un-grounded so I can spend my final week saying goodbye and sorting things out?”

Her parents nodded, glad she was taking this so well.

“Of course honey, just not tonight ok? It’s getting rather late.”

Marinette nodded and ran up to her room, shutting the trapdoor quickly. She went up onto her bed and starting crying into her pillow, feeling the weight of all the kwami comforting her. Eventually she rolled on to her back, drying her tears.

“I’m sorry Tikki, you said you wanted to talk?”

She looked at her expectantly. Marinette already knew what Tikki wanted. She needed to find a new wielder and Guardian, and she shouldn’t have been putting it off, but sometimes it felt good to cry. Tikki came to settle on her lap and patted her leg comfortingly.

“Marinette I know what you’re thinking, and you don’t have to give up being Ladybug or being Guardian. So you better stop that train of thought right now missy.”

Marinette sat up, blinking. How could she… Oh.

“I’m an idiot.”

Tikki giggled while she flew up and booped her nose, while Kaalki sniffed from the corner.

“I can’t believe you forgot about me Guardian. You’ve given me out before!”

Marinette giggled at the kwami’s haughty attitude.

“Sorry Kaalki, I got a bit too emotional to think clearly.”

Kaalki just grabbed a sugar cube with a huff and flew off. Marinette climbed off her bed and grabbed her bright pink suitcase.

“So who wants to help me pack?”

~~<3~~

Chloe, Kagami, Luka and Marinette were all sitting at a table at a café during their lunch break. Luka had graduated already, so he was usually free to hang out. Chloe had come up to Marinette not too long after Lila’s takeover with an apology. Marinette had been wary at first, but Chloe was actually really nice when she wasn’t putting up an act. She had soon proven herself and had been given another chance at being a hero, under the new name Honeybee. Kagami had approached her after Adrien had asked for advice on the Lila situation. She had hated his passive approach, and when she had tried to talk to him about it, he just refused her help, ignoring the fact that he had asked for her help. Kagami had come to offer her help, and they become friends soon after. She had re-claimed the dragon, under the new name Tempête. Luka had heard Lila’s heart song and immediately knew that was someone that he didn’t want to hang around. He had tried warning Juleka and the rest of Kitty Section, but Lila had told them that having an older singer wasn’t a good look. He had been kicked out, and Marinette had been there to comfort him with pastries and musicals. After she had introduced everyone to each other, they had become a tightly knit group. So, as one could imagine, they weren’t taking this well.

“They gave you a week? That’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

Kagami made a noise of displeasure as well.

“Sending you to America seems a bit extreme, what reason did they give again?”

Marinette scoffed.

“My ‘recent behaviour’ or something like that. Also known as, Lila. Oh, that’s not even the best part.”

Marinette gave out a dry chuckle and everyone looked on in interest.

“Apparently, I’m working with Hawkmoth.”

Luka plucked a string on his guitar, sending out a loud note. Chloe just stared in disbelief, and Kagami made for her foil.

“I’m going to run them through with my sword.”

Kagami gripped it tightly, ready to get up and make good on her threat, but Marinette grabbed it from her, unbothered by the fencer’s unimpressed glare.

“No-one is stabbing anyone. I don’t really have a choice, so I just have to suck it up and deal with it. Besides, it could be good to get away from Lila.”

Chloe was the first to get up to give her a hug, followed by Luka, and then by Kagami, who Marinette wasn’t completely sure that she wasn’t just trying to get her sword back.

“It’ll be ok guys, we can still video chat through Skype or something. I won’t be able to text, because I’ll be on an American phone plan, but we can figure something out!”

Chloe pulled away and took out her phone, tapping away immediately.

“I’m going to get you an amazing phone plan, with unlimited overseas. Same for the rest of you. That way, we can all talk and not worry about the fact that there’ll be an ocean dividing us.”

Marinette slowly took the phone and added it to her slowly growing pile, pointedly ignoring the glare Chloe shot her.

“I’m sure there are other, free, ways to contact each other. I think there’s an online service, what’s the name in English? Chaos or something like that?”

Luka strummed at his guitar in thought before pulling up an app on his phone.

“Is this the one you were thinking of?”

He had opened Discord, in dark mode of course, and had his profile open.

“Yeah, that’s the one! We can talk on there, and it has the bonus of being accessible from computers! So, no reason to go overboard, ok Chloe?”

Chloe humped and opened up the app store, downloading Discord. Kagami noticed what she was doing and mirrored her. They all took a few minutes to make accounts and become friends, before Luka, the one with the most experience, had set up a server for them all. Quickly choosing nicknames, Marinette pocketed her phone with a grin.

“Now that that’s done, anyone want to come help me pick some things to take?”

~~<3~~

It felt like the week passed quickly, lessons passing by in a blur. She didn’t pay much attention, just enough to keep Mrs Bustier satisfied. She didn’t bother alerting anyone in the class (outside of Chloe) that she was leaving, ignoring their taunts and insults. Chloe and Kagami had been big helps in learning how to ignore them, so now they rolled off her like water on a duck. She made sure not to bring anything valuable, most of her stuff was in a suitcase anyway. On her final day, she only had her schoolbooks, the school assigned tablet, and three neatly wrapped gifts. As she was packing up to go meet her friends for a final goodbye, she was stopped by Alya.

“I need you to make a dress for the upcoming school dance.”

Marinette briefly noted that this was a demand, rather than a request, but she just started her usual commission speech with a sigh.

“Depending on the materials used and the time it takes to make, the dress could cost anywhere from €300 to €500. There will also be shipping costs, plus the fact I’m not taking commissions right now, so it will probably be a few weeks before I might be able to get started on it.”

Alya was staring at Marinette like she had grown another head.

“€300, what are you talking about? I’m not paying youfor a dress, and you make mine every year, so what’s the problem? I can’t wait a few weeks, the dance is next weekend!”

Marinette sighed and pushed past the taller girl.

“The problem is that I don’t have time, materials are expensive, and I made you those dresses when we were friends. But we’re not now. So, leave me alone. Goodbye Alya.”

She walked out to meet her friends, leaving Alya behind, too stunned to talk. When she snapped out of it, she grumbled to herself.

“She’ll see reason on Monday. She has no right to refuse after all she’s done to Lila! Maybe if she makes Lila’s dress too, she’ll forgive her! Lila’s nice like that, Marinette will come around after making up for everything she’s done!”

Alya walked away, satisfied, planning her new dress in her mind.

Marinette ran up to her friends, engulfing them in hugs. They all hugged right back, sad to see her go. Marinette suddenly pulled away from the hug, and grabbed three parcels out of her bag. She handed them all out, urging them to open them. Luka opened his first, finding a beanie that perfectly matched his hair, with a teal snake pattern around the rim. Chloe went next, her patience not holding any longer. She got a headband with tiny bees embroidered all along it. Kagami received a red handkerchief, with an elemental dragon on one side, and a storm cloud on the other, a lightning strike going all the way across. They all started to thank her at once, with Marinette just blushing sheepishly.

“I just took note of all your favourite heroes, and added them to a design. It’s not that big of a deal.”

They all hugged again, before the clock chimed behind them, making Marinette jump.

“I have to go! I’ll send you all a message when I land, but you better not stay up for it if it’s late here!”

A chorus of “No promises!” filled her ears as she ran home, taking in the sights one more time. She burst into the bakery to find her mum still working the counter, and her dad busy baking. Not thinking much of it, she went up to her room to grab her belongings. After some quick cuddles from the kwami, she had everything she needed. Most flew into the suitcase, comfy in the hidden area Marinette had made, lined with a soft faux fur. Only Tikki and Kaalki flew into her jacket, ready to transform if need be. They had assured her they wouldn’t show up on the x-ray, so she was fine with having them in there. As she lifted her suitcase and went downstairs, her strength from being Ladybug shining through, she was surprised to see her parents still busy at work.

“Maman, Papa, I thought we were going to the airport now?”

Her parent’s exchanged looks before Tom stopped his baking and walked over.

“Honey, we can’t afford to come with you, we need to keep the bakery open. There’s an Uber outside for you, but you’ll have to go on your own. I’m sorry.”

He pulled her into a hug, one she half-heartedly returned. She walked over to hug her mum as well, and went outside with her suitcase.

This was it.

She was really being sent away.

All because of some dumb liar.

With a comforting press coming from inside her jacket, she got in the Uber, prepared to start her new life.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous marinette #marinette dupen chang #miraculous au #miraculous fandom #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #ml salt fic #superfamily #supergirl #arrowverse #kelly olsen #alex danvers #lila bashing #lila salt #class salt #alya+salt #chloe sugar

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flipomatic · 3 years ago

Text

Midnight

Summary: By the time Tsubaki woke up, it would already have been Aoi’s birthday for many hours. That was a long time, way too long to make Aoi wait for her birthday wishes. Tsubaki knew what that was like, waiting and waiting for someone to say something or even notice.

If Tsubaki wanted to make Aoi’s birthday special, which of course she did, there was only one answer. Just giving her a gift wasn’t enough. Tsubaki would stay up until the day changed, until it was time to wish Aoi happy birthday. That way Aoi wouldn’t have to wait even one minute.

Author Note: This is based on the area conversation Rondo has for Aoi’s birthday. Happy birthday Aoi!

Word Count: 1500

_____________________________________________________

Tomorrow was a very important day. It had been marked on Tsubaki’s calendar ever since Rondo formed, with a large gold star drawn over it.

Writing in the center of that star, in large letters, marked Aoi’s birthday.

Over the last month Tsubaki had hunted for the perfect present, the perfect gift for her DJ. It took the better part of that month to find something, but it was worth the search. She wrapped the gift carefully and placed it near the calendar, making sure not to lose it.

Rondo also made arrangements to go to the café that day, to throw a small party there. Hiiro set everything up and divided what they each needed to bring. Tsubaki was bringing the hats, which she bought from the store last week.

It wasn’t a surprise party, but they hadn’t told Aoi any of the details besides when and where to be. Hiiro said it would be more fun that way, though Tsubaki wasn’t sure if she agreed. Regardless, that was how she planned it.

Now, the big day was almost here. Tsubaki was sitting at the desk in her room, finishing up studying for school. She glanced over at the clock; it was just after 10 pm.

She closed the book in front of her, before stretching her arms out as she yawned. Outside of Rondo performances, Tsubaki didn’t usually stay up much later than 11. She had some early classes, which often demanded earlier sleeping hours.

Besides, there wasn’t any reason to stay up. Her house was quiet and lonely.

So, Tsubaki got ready for bed. Her phone, which she had left on the desk, lit up as it buzzed once. Hiiro must’ve texted her back. They’d been talking about the party tomorrow, finalizing any last details.

“I think we have everything.” Indeed, Hiiro had responded. A sticker of a tiny anime character giving a thumbs up followed the text.

That was great news. Tsubaki wanted to make Aoi’s birthday special, and having the party was a big part of that. Her mind went to her gift, which she was less confident about. Though she had picked it carefully, a hint of insecurity remained in her mind. She could only hope that Aoi liked it.

Tsubaki replied to the text. “Great, let me know in the morning if anything comes up.” She stood from her chair to get ready for bed.

By 10:30 she was lying under her blankets, lights off and cell phone in hand.

Hiiro had texted back. “It’ll be fine, don’t worry. Sleeping soon?”

That was her intent, yes. She had a long day ahead tomorrow. When she woke in the morning, it would be Aoi’s birthday.

Something about that didn’t feel right. Tsubaki set her phone aside for the moment and looked up at her ceiling.

By the time she woke up, it would already have been Aoi’s birthday for many hours. That was a long time, way too long to make Aoi wait for her birthday wishes. Tsubaki knew what that was like, waiting and waiting for someone to say something or even notice.

Now it was 10:35. Tsubaki only had an hour and 25 minutes left to wait. She picked her phone back up to reply to Hiiro.

“Not yet, I’m staying up a bit longer.” She sent the message, before going to scroll social media.

Her phone buzzed with the reply. “Busy with homework?” It was accompanied by a question mark frog emote that Tsubaki had seen once before.

“No, that’s not it.” Tsubaki hesitated, unsure how much she wanted to tell Hiiro. She hadn’t felt embarrassed when she decided it a few minutes ago, but now that she was about to tell someone else her face felt warm. “I’m staying up to tell Aoi happy birthday.”

Hiiro’s response came quickly. “Awww that’s so sweet!!”

“It’s a secret, don’t tell anyone.” What Tsubaki meant by that was, don’t tell Aoi or Nagisa. Hiiro wasn’t the best at keeping secrets; perhaps this had been a mistake.

“Of course!” Hiiro added a zipped lips emoji.

Tsubaki checked the time, 10:45. Midnight was closer, but not much closer. Her eyes already felt tired from lying down. She set an alarm for 11:55, just in case she dozed off.

Then she deliberately changed the topic with Hiiro, who would hopefully follow through on keeping her secret.

The time ticked by slowly, Tsubaki’s eyes growing heavier with each passing minute. Her conversation with Hiiro ended, leaving her to wait on her own.

To pass the time, she listened to recordings of Rondo’s music. It had felt strange when she first joined the unit, listening to her own voice. She’d gotten used to it now.

10 minutes passed, then 30, then 60.

Tsubaki checked the clock again. It was 11:45. She felt even more tired now, fighting off sleep to stay awake. If only it wasn’t so hard to keep her eyes open.

Her alarm went off at 11:55, which startled Tsubaki out of dozing. She hadn’t even realized how close she was to falling asleep. Her phone was still clasped tightly in her hand.

Keeping the phone screen on after shutting off the alarm, she clicked into her texts with Aoi. They had been talking that afternoon about their last performance.

With only a couple minutes until midnight, Tsubaki started typing her message.

________________________________________________________

As usual, Aoi was focused on her work. Her headphones were secure over her ears as she mixed music, carefully listening to each beat. She’d already been at it for at least a few hours.

Tomorrow was her birthday, but she wasn’t thinking about it. Hiiro had some kind of party planned. She wouldn’t share any details with Aoi though, even when she asked, and just told her to be there.

The sun had already long set as she worked, but the lamp on her desk and the light from the computer screen countered the encroaching darkness. Her phone was face down on the desk next to her keyboard, set aside for the time being.

Aoi had been mixing a new sample, something she wanted to use during Rondo’s performances. It would provide some variety and a new sound for their set. Even though they always worked the same club, it was good to change things up.

Of course, if it was going to be part of Rondo’s performances it needed to be mixed perfectly.

This led to Aoi creating multiple versions of the sample, so she could play them over Horizontal Oath and test how they sounded. She went through them one at a time, scrutinizing them fully.

Aoi was on the fourth one, which also wasn’t going to work, when her phone buzzed on the table. She could feel it through the surface, as it vibrated multiple times. Aoi used to keep it with ringtones on only, but with her headphones she often missed calls and messages.

Now, she paused the music and reached for her phone. When she flipped it over, she realized how late it had become.

The time on her phone said 12:00, midnight exactly. The reason it buzzed was because she got a text.

Aoi clicked into the message, which was from Tsubaki. It read:

“Happy birthday Aoi!!! I’m grateful every day that you brought me in to Rondo and I hope your next year is even better than the last!” A couple party popper emoji were placed on the end.

Aoi’s eyes widened as she read, and then re-read the message. Her heart felt unbearably warm, lips curved up into a smile. That’s right, now it was her birthday.

Tsubaki’s message, delivered right at midnight, was her very first birthday wish. That Tsubaki would send the message right as the day changed, to be the first one, made Aoi incredibly happy.

When she met Tsubaki in the church, she never imagined how close they would become. She couldn’t have predicted how much she would value the mysterious singer, the young woman whose voice swept through her heart. Aoi was grateful too, that Tsubaki had entered her life this year.

She wanted to reply immediately, so Tsubaki would know how she felt. The events of the last year, forming and performing as Rondo, felt like the start of something incredible.

“Thank you, it’ll be great because you’re in it!” She typed back, hitting send before she could rethink those words. A moment later, the message said delivered. It stayed like that as Aoi set her phone down, face up this time. Perhaps Tsubaki had walked away from her phone; Aoi hoped she would see it soon.

As the clock ticked to 12:02, Aoi returned to her samples. She had a couple more to test, to see if they were good enough, then she would go to bed.

This would be her first birthday spent with Rondo, with Tsubaki. Aoi couldn’t stop thinking about it.

#tsubaoi #d4dj #d4dj fic #aoyagi tsubaki #miyake aoi #hello i wrote this fast #because i love them #and also the birthday stuff was super great #flip writes #happy birthday aoi!

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written-on-the-trees · 4 years ago

Text

Emerson Barrett Fan Fiction - Beautiful Things Come One Stitch At A Time

Prompt: Enemies to Lovers (or rather exes to still-exes-but-one-of-them-wants-to-get-back-together)

Word-count: 1825 words

Warnings: none

Description: Tia dumped Emerson because he wasn't good for her. She never expected to see him at work four years later - and now she doesn't know what to do.

Sequel to Not Enough Stitches To Put Us Back Together!

Tia sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

This was not how she had wanted to spend her day.

After getting fired, she’d started looking for jobs that would take her away from Las Vegas. It had only been a few months since she’d dumped her ex-boyfriend, Emerson, and it had seemed like the universe was telling her it had been time for a change. She’d applied for a few various positions, and ended up taking a job on Los Angeles, at Sumerian Records. At the time, Palaye Royale had been an unsigned band, and Tia had taken a job as a personal assistant in the record label’s legal department, figuring that even if Palaye Royale were signed to Sumerian, it was unlikely Tia would ever have any reason to deal with them.

However, two very significant things had changed since she’d first started working for Sumerian.

Firstly: she’d become a tour manager. Apparently she had an undiscovered talent for wrangling people and organisation. The last bit hadn’t really been undiscovered to her, but the people wrangling bit had been a pleasant surprise.

Secondly - something that was a much less pleasant surprise - Palaye Royale got signed to Sumerian Records.

Tia hadn’t been pleased. She’d gone straight to her boss, Kayley, and explained everything: that Emerson was an ex-boyfriend, that they hadn’t parted on the best of terms, and that Sebastian and Remington despised her. Kayley had taken it in stride, and made notes in all the relevant places that Tia wasn’t to be TM on any tour Palaye Royale were on. It was a system that worked for years; she never saw any of the three men, and since she’d blocked them all on all of her social media accounts, along with anyone she knew they were close with, she wasn’t even sure she worked for the label they were signed to.

It was the perfect arrangement, as far as she was concerned.

But then the world had gone to shit. That had been rough for everyone, not least Tia, who had been lucky to be put on paid leave through the worst of it, getting 75 percent of her monthly salary each month. Between that, using the extra time to spend on her crafting hobbies that allowed her open up an Etsy store, and her savings, Tia had been lucky enough to wait the virus out. Some of her colleagues hadn’t been so lucky, and had had to move on, but as much as Tia’s heart had hurt for them, she hadn’t really thought of what that meant for her.

Like the fact Sumerian were now dealing with the world opening back up for concerts while they had a lack of tour managers.

Which was how Tia had ended up being named TM for the second leg of Palaye Royale’s The Bastards Tour.

Just kill me now.

Kayley had been apologetic, and Tia honestly believed there was nothing her boss could’ve done, but in some respects that just made things more frustrating. There was no-one to blame for these circumstances but a shitty universe fucking with her, and so Tia just had to put on her big girl knickers and get on with it. Starting with introducing herself to the boys as their new TM.

It wasn’t going to be fun. In fact, Tia was pretty sure it was going to be the worst day she’d had since she’d dumped Emerson.

Despite that, though, Tia squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked onto the tour bus that was going to be her new home - and the home of her ex-boyfriend and his brothers - for the next few months. The sudden silence that fell across the three men sitting in the main living area was deafening, but Tia didn’t let it intimidate her. She was going to have to face a lot worse than just silence, and she wasn’t going to be beaten so early on.

So, instead, she just put a blandly professional smile on her face, and introduced herself before any of those idiots could speak: “Good morning. I’m Tatia, and I’m going to be the TM for this tour.”

“We know who you are.” Sebastian glared at Tia: “It’s not like we’d forget the bitch who dumped our brother on the way back from the hospital.”

Remington nodded: “We’re not awful people.”

Tia would like to argue that point, specifically about Sebastian and Remington, but she was determined to remain professional.

Even if Emerson was staring at her as if she was some sort of literal angel: like he couldn’t quite believe he was actually seeing her. It was weird, and Tia really hoped that he stopped doing it soon, but in the name of remaining professional she ignored it.

“Of course you’re not.” Tia agreed with Remington, keeping her tone light and friendly, despite how bad his attitude was: “And irrespective of any previous relationships, we’re going to have to work together for the next three months, so I believe it’s in all out interests to be civil.”

“Or we could just tell the label that you’re a ex and we don’t want to work with you.” Remington smirked.

Tia just smiled at him: “Sumerian Records have been aware of the fact Emerson is my ex-boyfriend since you signed with them. Normally I would not have been your TM, but there’s a bit of a shortage of us around at the moment, and I’m the only one available for this tour. If you would still like to take it up with the record, then you can, but in terms of TMs, it’s me or no-one.”

Silence reigned again.

“Shall we get on the road, then?”

The silence continued, and Tia took that as a win.

A month into the tour, and Tia was ready to tear her hair out.

Remington and Sebastian were dicks. Andrew, their touring guitarist, took his lead from them, even if he wasn’t as bad: and their merch girl Hope did the same. All the roadies, some of whom she’d worked with before, were on her side, seeing Remington, Sebastian, and Andrew as arrogant and rude because…well, they were arrogant and rude, snapping demands during set up and ignoring everyone the rest of the time. The driver hated them because he was constantly annoyed by their antics on the bus, so he was on Tia’s side too

The bus was divided, and it was not conductive to a good environment.

And then there was Emerson.

Emerson, when he wasn’t busy on stage or doing media, followed Tia around like a lost puppy. The roadies had found it really creepy to begin with - and even when Tia had filled them in on the fact he was her ex, they still weren’t too happy about him. She was rarely left on her own, and she grateful for that - because apparently Emerson was not over her.

He started with constantly trying to make eye contact whenever they were in the same room. When that didn’t work, he moved onto texting her, since she’d unblocked him for work, but she ignored all messages from him that weren’t work related. Once he’d realised he wasn’t getting anywhere with the texts, he’d moved onto gifts and cares. A lot of gifts and cards. Stuffed toy cats, expensive treats like fancy baked goods and chocolates, interesting sounding books, even jewelry.

Tia ignored all of it, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he would stop letting her do that.

Eventually, he managed to corner her while she was talking to Hope about how much stock the merch table needed and if they needed to look at getting more. With Hope being firmly on the band’s side, and probably assuming Emerson was going to chew her out like Remington and Sebastian constantly tried to, she disappeared the moment he gestured for her to give him and Tia a moment.

He didn’t waste a moment once he had her trapped between himself, the merch table, and a wall, immediately launching into what he wanted to say: “Tia, I’m so sorry. Past me was awful - ”

“I hate to break it to you, Emerson, but present you is also pretty terrible.” Tia rolled her eyes.

“ - but I have changed.” Emerson continued, before his expression turned regretful when he registered what she’d said: “Even if I haven’t necessarily shown you that.”

Tia rolled her eyes again: “Pretty much the opposite. You and your brothers are exactly the same as I remember you: aggressive, cocky, or just plain apathetic. Your brothers have gone out of their way to make life difficult to me, and you’ve sat back and let it happen, just like the three of you used to drive me to the urge of panic attacks, and you did nothing about it. So, yeah, I wouldn’t exactly say that you’ve shown you’ve changed.”

Emerson had the good sense to look ashamed: “You’re right, I haven’t. I’m sorry.”

Tia remained resolute when Emerson’s face dropped.

She wasn’t sucked in by the act - and on the off chance it was genuine, it was nothing compared to the upset he’d caused her. The fact was, dating Emerson had been terrible for Tia’s mental health. It had driven her to therapy after the relationship ended, which had in time allowed her to see that although her issues were absolutely not Emerson’s fault, he exacerbated them so much that if she hadn’t dumped him when she had there would have been issues that he was to blame for.

Had she missed him? Yes. Did she still miss him? That was harder to say.

Emerson was a unique soul, and Tia had truly felt they had gotten along amazingly…he just never listened to her when she explained that there was something wrong. She had loved him, even though they’d been together for just six months, but that had been over four years ago now, and even though sometimes it made something in her chest clench when she looked at him, she honestly wasn’t sure if it was love or just an echo of the pain he’d caused her.

“I want to show you that I have, though.” Emerson suddenly continued: his forlorn look being overtaken by one of determination: “I will show you that I have.”

Tia wasn’t sure she believed him…but she found that, deep down, she wanted him to, even though she wasn’t going to admit it, so she just sighed: “I’m sure you’ll try, Emerson.”

“I will.”

“Okay, then.” Tia shrugged, still acting like she didn’t believe him - because she honestly didn’t, no matter what she wanted: “I’ve got work to do. You do what you want.”

She walked away, leaving Emerson to plan whatever he was going to do to try and convince her that he was a better person that he used to be.

I wonder if it will work…

#The Trees Writes #The Trees' October 2020 Writing Challenge #Emerson Barrett #Emerson Barrett imagine #Emerson Barrett fanfic #Emerson Barrett fan fic #Emerson Barrett fan fiction #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fanfic

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halictus-writer · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome to Seattle (Ch. 2 of 5)

The next week went by smoothly. Remus had gotten into a familiar routine with his new job, and became more friendly with his colleagues who also wrote for the newspaper. He had always had a tough exoskeleton, but it didn’t take too long to become comfortable enough to let some of his walls down for a few select coworkers. In stark contrast to his friends from college, these coworkers did not press him for details about his dating-- or as James more bluntly put it, sex-- life. In any case, both were nonexistent.

*James changed the name of the chat to “Operation get Remus laid”*

James: Alright, here we go. Remus, are you ready to read some wisdom coming from yours truly?

*Remus removed James from the chat*

The truth was, Remus wasn’t opposed to getting back out there. The only drawback was that he didn’t know how to get back out there. His relationship with his ex had started organically, with little effort on Remus’s part. And being in a serious relationship for so long had saved him from having to learn how to flirt and casually date new people.

*Lily changed the name of the chat to “Help Remus get back out there, if he wants to”*

*Lily added James to the chat*

James: Alright Remus, you’ve had a chance to get all settled down in your new place, but now it is time to wake up and smell the coffee

Lily: What James means, Remus, is that we think you should maybe try to re-enter the dating scene. Only if you feel ready, of course.

Remus: is this an intervention?

Lily: no

James: yes

Dorcas: ooh are we voting? Marlene is driving so she can’t text but we both vote yes

James: Remus. My son. Fruit of my loins. You are a total catch. It is time for you to take your beautiful face out from behind those sad Jane Austen novels I know you’re rereading every night and get your freak on

Remus: I appreciate your investment in my sex life, I really do, but I think I’m doing fine.

Remus: also you’re not my dad. I’m older than you by five months

James: Oh really? Let’s play a game where you say True or False to each statement I make.

Remus: Fine. But only until my lunch break ends

James: Here’s the first one: My name is Remus Lupin

Remus: ...true

James: My favorite food is chocolate.

Remus: true

James: The most recent time I had sex was within the last 2 months

*Remus removed James from the chat*

Remus spent the rest of his lunch break walking through Pike Place Market. He loved the lively atmosphere of the place, and mentally mapped out the places he would like to spend more time in, in the future. No longer constrained by a vacation schedule, he can see as many shops and stores in Seattle as he would like.

He also sent pictures of the most interesting areas to the friend group via Snapchat. Having multiple avenues of communication proved to be very helpful for a group of people as prone to theatrics as they were. Any arguments or disagreements could stay in whatever platform they originated in, and if people were (temporarily) removed from that platform, they would still have access to another. This unspoken agreement allowed the group to plan James and Lily’s upcoming visit on Snapchat, while Remus kept up his faux-anger at James’s nosiness in the messages app. Remus knew he would tell them everything when he saw them in person, but being ambushed with the topic on a Tuesday while he was at work was not his preferred arena.

***

Saturday morning found the group reunited at a breakfast nook within the Market. Remus sat next to Lily in one booth, opposite Dorcas and Marlene, while James sat in a wooden chair on one end. Remus appreciated that his friends made sure their seating configuration didn’t highlight his own status as the fifth wheel.

After catching up on everyone’s lives, and many pointed glances directed at James from customers who evidently didn’t want to hear the piercing falsetto James used when reenacting conversations with Lily’s sister, the conversation found its way back to Remus’s dating life.

“Remus, you’re a catch and a half. It’s been a few months since your relationship ended, and it may be time to get back out there.” Lily started.

“It’s true,” Marlene added, nodding, “if I weren’t dating Dorcas I would be all over you and your wool cardigan. Almost makes me forget I’m a lesbian.” She laughed as she dodged a light flick from Dorcas.

“If you were a woman I’d totally sleep with you.” James said sincerely.

“Uh oh, misogynistic comment tax!” Dorcas swept in and took a piece of bacon from his plate before dividing it between Lily and herself. “For the vegetarian,” she made a half bow gesture from her seat as she presented Marlene with a liberated strawberry.

“Um, thank you for the votes of confidence, I think,” Remus began. “I appreciate it, I really do, well maybe not what James said, but I’ll admit defeat. I have been thinking about getting back into the dating scene.”

“A-ha!” James shouted, gesturing his final piece of bacon towards Remus. “The man is smelling the coffee. I can see it, he’s smelling it.”

“But,” Remus said softly, hoping that his reduced volume would subtly encourage James to be quieter as well, “I don’t really know how to meet people. I mean, we’re not in school anymore.”

“It isn’t easy, but you are in a much bigger city now,” Lily reasoned, “so theoretically your dating pool is much larger.”

“And there’s all kinds of designated queer spaces here!” James added. “You can go to gay bars and stuff, right?”

“I would pay to see Remus at a gay nightclub,” Marlene said, laughing.

“I would pay to see Remus awake past nine PM,” Dorcas said, “and not because you’re finishing a book.”

“Okay, okay, thanks everybody. I appreciate it.” Remus said flatly.

“Alright, let’s reel it in. Point is, you can meet people organically here, and we’ll support you.” Lily said. After she gave pointed looks around the table, the others nodded, although James was still smiling. “We can switch the topic now, but you better plan on keeping us updated on all your dating endeavors.”

James continued to smile mischievously, and added “And all of your casual sex endeavors. I need to know the exact starting date of your post-breakup hoe-phase. Get on the dating apps! You’d be a beast on there.”

“No.” Remus and Lily said in unison.

Lily continued, “I think you’ll have better luck meeting people organically. Dating apps can be creepy.”

When Dorcas finally changed the topic by prompting Marlene to tell the story of the cat she swore was taking the bus by itself last week, Remus sighed in relief.

***

A few days after James and Lily’s visit, Remus and Dorcas met for coffee before work. Once they had gotten their iced coffees, and in Remus’s case, a giant brownie (he hadn’t been to the Italian restaurant in a few days, so it was well-earned), Dorcas began a monologue that could hold its own against one of James’s.

"Alright. We love James and Lily. We love their beautiful, heterosexual, suburban lives. I am in awe of their enchanting, heterosexual love story, and how they met heterosexually and organically in their Communications class, and how it must have been meant to be when James was late to class and took the only available seat, next to our heterosexual princess.”

Remus laughed in silence, trying not to choke on a bite of brownie.

“Their heterosexual hearts are in the right place. Their heterosexual advice is kindly meant. And yet!” Dorcas announced, punctuating with one pointer finger, “you’re gay!”

Remus, having just finished swallowing the brownie and mistakenly taken a sip of coffee, struggled to not spit it out.

“Dating apps can be weird, of course, but it’s so much easier to meet other queer people there, and not worry as much about hoping the person you flirt with isn’t going to be offended by your existence.”

“Fair point,” Remus said, consciously not eating or drinking until Dorcas was finished.

“Until they open an LGBTQ+ bookstore coffee shop combo, which they totally should, and you would totally thrive in, you should get on Tinder."

Somehow Remus blushed at that, despite being a twenty-six year-old man who has dated before.

Dorcas called him on his blush, and laughed. “You are the most wholesome person I know, it’s too adorable. I won’t make you talk about it in public if it’s embarrassing, but just consider it.”

Remus agreed to do so, but secretly considered the pros and cons of staying single forever. Making a dating profile sounded anxiety-inducing.

***

When Remus walked through the doors of the Italian restaurant for the third time, he instantly felt a little better, as if his brain was already beginning to associate the place with the healing effects of the pizza he would soon be eating.

He had been feeling a little down this afternoon, with his thoughts often gravitating back towards his ex. He considered reaching out to one of his friends, since he knew they would be more than happy to talk him through it, but decided that a little alone time would do him good. Besides, he hadn’t eaten margherita pizza in over a week. It was time to indulge.

Looking up from his booth, he was momentarily surprised to find Sirius standing right in front of him, ready to take his order. Sirius hadn’t been working during Remus’s most recent visit, and Remus tried not to stare at the wavy pieces of hair framing his face, the rest tied back in place. Realizing that Sirius had spoken, Remus tried to regain composure.

“Hi, um, sorry, what was that?” So much for composure, Remus thought.

Sirius smiled warmly, holding eye contact. “You’re good. I just asked what I can get started for you today.” He added a little gesture to the pen and notepad he was holding.

“Oh, um, one small margherita pizza, please. And some water would be great, too.”

“Coming right up!” Sirius announced, and turned towards the kitchen. Remus pointedly looked away from the view, reminding himself that he was here to feel sad, not lustful. But, then again, maybe the latter would help him get over the former. Either way, his spirits were already lifting.

When Sirius returned carrying a beautifully steaming pizza, Remus was ready to devour it. He was also ready to speak words to Sirius like a normal person, having mentally rehearsed “Thank you, this looks great.” a hundred times.

“Thanks, you look great!” Remus expressed, looking at Sirius. His blush immediately materialized. “Wait, oh god. Sorry–”

Sirius laughed, “No worries! People tell me ‘you too’ when I tell them to enjoy their food, like, at least once a shift. You’re in good company.”

Remus smiled and felt a little more relaxed. “Thanks.”

Sirius shuffled for a second, looking like he had more to say, before saying “Well, enjoy your pizza!”

“You too!” Remus said, in mock sincerity. They both laughed.

***

When Sirius brought the check, he also dropped off a piece of tiramisu. “It’s for you!” He said, smiling and already walking away, as Remus tried to protest.

Remus ate about forty percent of the cake, mentally focusing intensely on the next plot point in his novel. Eventually, the soggy texture overpowered his desire to appear grateful for the free dessert, and he left the restaurant quietly when Sirius stepped back into the kitchen, away from sight.

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bagels-and-seagulls · 5 years ago

Note

Okay this is definitely not the first time I've come into your ask box asking for angst but...I read your new cheerleader!matteo and hj!david and I couldn't resist. I started thinking about like what if when they're not official yet, there's a misunderstanding that David's messing around with other people as well bc his teammates are saying things to mess with matteo as always. (Love love love your writing)

i was not planning on writing more of this au so soon but this ask literally hit me in the face with a brick and i feel as tho i must. also the peach bowl is emotionally over and next is the fiesta one, so i’m still in a circle of hell

part one - part two

-matteo doesn’t really know how to treat david after leonie’s party, doesn’t know if he should think of them as an item, or at least becoming one, or if it was a one time thing just to get some of their energy out, to see if whatever there was between them was easily ended after a simple kiss, or if it only made it worse.

-spoiler alert, it made it worse.

-matteo has never really had a crush before, not one that had any promise to go anywhere. sure, he had the hopelessly tragic crush on his straight bestfriend that looking back on it was nice in a way, knowing that it was never going to happen, falling out of the crush just as easily as he fell into it. but since then, since jonas, he hasn’t really thought about anyone else. there weren’t many people like that around here to even really think about, not unless he wanted to go for a straight guy again, which no, thanks. one was enough for him. so he this was all new territory for him, being in that awkward stage between nothing and something. he didn’t really know what to do, what to say, how to act. he didn’t know if he was allowed to ask david to hang out, how many times he was allowed to text in a day, if they were going to kiss hello in the hallway, anything like that. anything at all.

-matteo has never had a crush before, so he never even knew he was a such a jealous person until- well, it hit him over the head like a neon green semi-truck.

-yo man, david, you’re a total dog, one of the football players kids as they’re all walking into the locker room, and matteo was there, trying to find a charger that one of the girls was asking for. and he could have sworn it was in his bag even though he couldn’t find it. shut up, man, he hears david say back and laugh, and it makes matteo stop. you had like three of those cheerleaders all over you, someone else says. yeah, i’ve been trying to get with sam for months, and she’s all over you in one second, comes another voice. y’all are going to get me in trouble, david laughs and rounds the corner and sees matteo looking back. hi, david says, his smile changing into something a little smaller, a little more like it was just for matteo. hi, matteo repeats and ends up just staring at david for a second, who just laughs a little awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck. i gotta get back to practice, matteo mutters and walks off, hearing david’s, oh, okay, bye?

-matteo invites david to go to an open mic thing that jonas wants him to go to, and david tells him that he had already promised leonie he would go to a party with her. but he could see him afterwards? maybe they could meet up somewhere? matteo tells him that it’s okay, that they can meet up tomorrow morning or just wait until monday. and then monday morning rolls around, and he hears whispering in the hallway about how david hooked up with some girl, went home with her even, and matteo feels like it isn’t true. doesn’t think that david was that kind of guy, but it eats away at him anyways. eats away at him until he feels a little bit angry, and a little bit disappointed, and something else that was a combination of the two. and he ends up going to his class early, even though he said he would meet david by his locker before school started.

-david texts him, are you okay? and matteo doesn’t answer. david looks at him all concerned when he sees him in literature, and matteo ignores that look, too.

-they end up making out when david comes over one day to study for their literature exam. they end up actually studying for maybe twenty minutes, throwing glances at each other every couple of seconds and smiling to themselves once they were caught. you know, they say you should study for fifteen minutes and then take a five minute break to improve memory, david says at one point. oh really? matteo asks, and how long have we been studying? and david takes the book out of his lap with a smirk and leans into his space until matteo is looking up at him, at least twenty already, he mutters, looking between matteo’s eyes and his lips. and how do you think we should spend our break? matteo asks, feeling like he had something to be proud of all of a sudden.

-matteo leaves a hickey on the base of david’s neck, and he doesn’t think he’s ever left a hickey before, feeling a little like a strutting peacock when he sees david on monday morning with the bruise still dark against his skin. but then he hears all of the names of the people that some suspect might have left it there, and not once does his name come up. he doesn’t think he’ll be leaving one again.

-are you okay? david asks him one day when they’re standing at the edge of the field, and matteo’s been ignoring him all day because he didn’t think that he would be able to keep his mouth shut about how he heard from at least four of david’s teammates that david screwed around with one of matteo’s squadmates at a party in the middle of the week, which honestly was trashy enough. and matteo wasn’t too sure that david even went to a party on a wednesday night, but he’s been having a pretty shitty day all around and thought it was only a matter of time before he accidentally let it out on someone else. i’m fine, matteo says and tries to brush him off. matteo, just talk to me, david asks, and matteo was almost ready to spill his guts right there, right out his mouth and onto the field underneath their feet, but the said squadmate from the rumor happened to be walking by just then, because of course she did, and waved at david right as matteo went to open his mouth. forget it, matteo says instead of admitting anythign that was nasty, and mean, and uncalled for, and shakes his head. wait, david says. if you want to go talk to her, go and leave me alone, matteo mutters and turns away only for david to grip his elbow and pull him back, what is that supposed to mean? and matteo thinks this might be his guts coming up, that thing that was mean he was trying to push down, if you’re hooking up with other people or whatever, just leave me out of it.

-matteo walks away, and that night as he’s laying in bed, he thinks that maybe he really screwed something up.

-matteo never had a crush before, so he never really knew he was a jealous person. he didn’t know he was going to hate himself so much for it.

-i don’t know why you’re so convinced i’m meant to be a bad guy, david says, straddling the locker room bench and clearly waiting for matteo to come in, to try and get him to talk to him. what? matteo says with a shake of his head, even though he heard him perfectly fine, just didn’t want to have to come up with some sort of response to it. instead, facing towards his locker and effectively blocking himself from looking david in the face. you’re the only one i’m, like, interested in, or whatever, david says, i haven’t been talking to anyone else, or hooking up or anything. matteo nods his head because he doesn’t have anything to add, doesn’t have anything to say. but you don’t believe me, do you? david asks with a sigh and a scoff rolled into one and doesn’t wait for an answer. fuck, matteo. i know you don’t like football players, and i get it. really, i do, but i’ve never lied to you- not once. and i’m not screwing around behind your back. matteo nods again and reaches for something in his locker, his hand gripping nothing but air. yeah, alright, david says, and it sounds like he was giving up on something, i guess i’ll just fuck off or whatever.

-they don’t talk for days, and matteo feels like garbage the entire time, opening and closing david’s contact just trying to work up the nerve to talk to him.

-i think i really fucked it up, matteo mutters to jonas one night when he comes over to play some video games after school. with david? jonas asks and pauses the game. matteo hums and sets his controller down, i didn’t believe him and i should’ve. jonas sits there for a moment, tapping a beat only he could hear on his knee. have you told him that? jonas asks. matteo shakes his head. i don’t know how to apologize, matteo admits. i think i really fucked it up.

-matteo swallows down his pride and his nerves with nothing left in his bones except his guilt as he walks up to david at his locker with his hands stuck up under his backpack straps, kicking his heels into the ground. uh, hey, he says, and david turns around like he was shocked to see him. hey, david repeats and holds his books in front of his chest. i- uh, i wanted to apologize, matteo says, for being an asshole. david nods his head but doesn’t say anything, his face screwed up like he was holding himself back from saying anything at all. can we talk? after school maybe? matteo asks and hopes that he isn’t turned down. david says to wait up for him after practice.

-what did you want to talk about? david asks later, leaning back up against his locker with his arms crossed in front of him, the bench dividing them. i’m sorry, matteo says, i should’ve talked to you or something, instead of believing other people. i just- i don’t know. i haven’t had the best time at this school, especially with the football team. and i guess i just thought it was too good to be true, that-that you were too good to be true. david doesn’t say anything for a long time, and matteo sucks in a breath, running his thumb nail up the sides of his fingers, i should’ve talked to you, and i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to fuck this whole thing up. i really do like you. david clicks his tongue, and matteo has to look down at the ground in order to not stare too hard. i really like you, too, david says after a beat, and matteo looks up at him, wanting him to say more. it’s just- how can i be with someone who doesn’t trust me? and matteo goes to argue immediately, but closes his mouth when he sees the look that david was leveling him with. can i have another chance? matteo asks, to show you that i do?

-david agrees, and matteo sighs out in relief.

-it takes them a few weeks to get back where they were, when they felt young and almost in love, smiling just by the thought of seeing the other, so excited when they do, that they just sway from side to side on their feet once they’re in close proximity, too caught up in themselves to even kiss each other hello. but matteo thinks that he’s proved it. at least, he hopes that he did, that he trusts david totally and completely, with his whole heart even because he feels like that’s what he’s doing, handing it over wrapped in a little bow.

-do you want to go see a movie tonight? david asks him when they’re both standing outside the school, not exactly wanting to say goodbye but knowing the day was over. matteo hums, not completely catching the question, too caught up in his thoughts. a movie? david repeats, and matteo shrugs, not feeling any sort of way about the proposal. what is is? david asks, leaning in closer and nudging matteo with his elbow. did you want to be my boyfriend? matteo blurts out. the words just falling from his mouth before he’s able to catch them back up. oh, uh, david stretches out and scratches the back of his neck. nevermind, forget it, matteo stutters out and takes a step back. no, no, no, i do, i just- david sighs and looks around before tugging matteo over to the side of the building to be more out of the way.

-i do, david repeats. but? matteo asks. but, uh, david pinches the bridge of his nose and scrunches his eyes up, i’m trans, he says eventually, looking up and at matteo who was looking back with wide eyes. uh, matteo drawls out after a second, is that it? and david tilts his head to the side, what? and matteo looks around, not really for anything, just to look at something that wasn’t david for a second. you’re trans so you don’t want to be my boyfriend? matteo asks. what? david repeats, no, no- i’m trans, so i thought maybe you didn’t want me to be your boyfriend. and then it was matteo’s turn to scratch his head. so you’re trans, and you don’t want me to want you to be my boyfriend? he asks. and david looks at him for a second. i think we’re agreeing? he says with an uptick in his voice. you’re trans, matteo says. right, david confirms. and you wanna be my boyfriend? matteo asks. right, david repeats. and matteo nods, still feeling a little bit confused, so they both just stand there, rocking from side to side on the balls of their feet until david goes, so boyfriends? and matteo smiles. yeah, boyfriends, he agrees, and david smiles too and kisses him.

#here we are again #Clemson is in the lead #but there is time for that to change indeed #davenzi #davenzi fic #my writing #other aus #hot jock david

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 5 years ago

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Jeon Jungkook/Reader [F]

Genre: Sports AU, Highschool, Fluff, Poor Description of Tennis (I’m sorry lol), Pinning, Idiots to Lovers

Warning(s): None

Words: 9.4k

Summary: You’ve grown up with the boy across the street your whole life. Even in high school, you were the first person to be called to rope in his tactless or rambunctious actions. It gets worse when you get an appointed as Student Council President and now you’re forced to babysit and handhold the Tennis Team’s Ace Server: Jeon Jungkook. There’s a reason he’s always causing you to show up; even further why he only seems to listen to you.

a/n: this is my contribution for btsboulangeries Aug. 2019 au prompt lol. Sports!

“Y/n, can you come to the gym?” You sat at your desk, reading whatever book you had picked up from the library when a member of the student council came and called you out of your room. Murmurs echoed through the classroom like a loud rumble of thunder. You didn’t even need an explanation as to why you were being called to the gymnasium out of seemingly nowhere. It was always the same story with you and with him.

You got up with a tick in your brow as you marched to the door and silently told the student that you were on your way. You felt like you were bunching up your uniform with each annoyingly-charged stomp of your foot. You walked down halls, and downstairs to the gym where the squeaking of shoes and shouts along with dribbling balls echoed from inside.

You stopped in the open, metal doorway as you way a small group of boys, shed of their school blazers- in all there obnoxious yellow glory- as they scampered around the gym courts. Scattering back and forth dribbling a basketball, it wasn’t your average game of passing time basketball. Instead of two teams competing, it was more of a revolution charging against one body who was smugly hoarding the ball and the stealing court.

“Jungkook!” You screamed, cupping around your mouth so it could be heard over the sound of the intense sports balls game. The game almost instantly halted. From the crowd of overly sweaty and heavy breathing teenage boys popped out Jeon Jungkook. A prodigy of anything and everything ever and a boy seemingly gifted by whatever God decided to play favorites. His face that was once slack and sweaty broke into a grin that remained just as sweaty.

Jungkook was the little boy that you were forced into meeting with when you moved into the city of Busan when you were 4. Your parents were firm believers of getting to know your neighbors and when they learned that the lovely couple across the street had a son your age, they just had to make you two meet.

You wouldn’t call yourselves childhood friends, it was more like when you were 4 years old that’s when your indefinite job of babysitting the only Jeon began. You were always trailing behind him, scolding him for being reckless or trying to be his voice of reason because he clearly always decided to ignore his conscience. You’d run after him- considerably slower- in your sundress your mother dressed you in and your bright pink crocs. He’d be dressed in his small jersey and shorts with shoes as he zoomed ahead of you to the park.

He’d climb trees that in comparison were like 6 story buildings while you stood on the ground at the base of the truck, pleading for him to come down before he loses his fight with gravity. He did a few times, breaking his arm once and ankle another time- yet he still kept climbing bigger and bigger trees because the lesson was just never learned. That wasn’t all that Jungkook had going for him though.

He was completely different when he was around other girls. He would get shy in his kindergarten class that you two shared. He would stick to your side or shift behind you when he was approached by a girl who wanted to play with him. He would keep his words short and actions shorts as his little body shifted in shyness. It was the only times you were able to act as a shield to him.

He would also seem to put on a ‘big kid’ act when you were picked on. You were often teased for reasons you still didn’t know. You weren’t really all that different from all the other little girls in your class, but you were just a hot target on someone’s radar. It was timed at recess that they were teasing you or kick rocks at you while you sat picking small flowers. They even made you get stuck on the seesaw once, keeping your seat high into the air as they stayed on the opposite seat, keeping it down as you nearly cried. It was way higher than you thought when you were 5.

Jungkook would start petty, childhood fights with insults as high as ‘poo head’ and ‘infected brat’ and defended you when he saw it. He’d tell the other boys off and would take you to the grass when you cried and pick flowers with you until you would feel better. There was one day when Jungkook walked you from your bus stop, holding your small hand in his own and told your parents that you needed at least 3 cookies to smile again.

The next day, Jungkook had come and given you a flower whistle to wear. He told you to blow it when you were being teased again and he’d come and chase the meanies away. You still had that whistle hanging in your bedroom beside your bed on a nail shared with the dreamcatcher Jungkook got you when he heard from your parents you had been having nightmares.

Jungkook and you from then grew up and somehow developed a love-hate relationship. You would get on each other’s nerves constantly, but you would still lend him your notes when he got behind or when he needed a ride to and from practice, you’d be the first to offer it. In return, he’d always do favors for you like buying your lunch for a day or hooking you up with free tickets to whatever team he’s playing for the season. Not that you cared that much for sports.

When he saw you standing cross-armed in the gym doorway, he immediately abandoned the ball, bouncing it off to his side before he ran over to you. The immediate relief the other boys had was almost tangible as they immediately divided up into proper teams for a friendly match. When he stood in front of you, he stood close enough you could feel the heat pushing off his body in waves.

He was a sweaty, smiley mess as his dark, dampened bangs stuck to his forehead and his sideburns were matted down to his cheeks. Hair messy in a tussled, brown birds nest. His collared white-uniformed shirt was wrinkled, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms as his blazer lay among the rest in the bleachers. Tie probably with his blazer, as he was now lacking one. He definitely should have changed into his gym clothes instead of sweating up his uniform.

“Good morning, Butterfly,” he greeted. The nickname is a long-standing one since you two were 7. He and you went out butterfly catching in the summer when the two pairs of your parents met up for some random BBQ. You being the only one of the pair to not catch a single one as Jungkook had easily captured at least a dozen in his mesh trap before releasing them that same afternoon.

“It’s past noon,” you quipped as he just shrugged. “Can’t you just sit down and read a book or something? Do you always have to stir something up? You know I’m trying to study and focus.” You tapped your fingers on your bicep of your still folded arms. Jungkook swung his left leg over his right ankle and tucked his hands behind his head.

“Oh yeah, you’re running for something in Stu. Co., yeah?” He ticked his brow with a questioning waver in his voice, unsure as to what position you were actually aiming for. You were already part of the student council and if all went well, you hoped to be the next president with elections right around the corner. It wasn’t just the student body vote that decided your fate, but your GPA and scores in classes. You’ve been in class, the library or home with your nose in a textbook for weeks trying your damnedest for that seat.

“You know I’m running for president and your constant annoyances around the school aren’t helping.” You seemed genuinely upset that you were once again pulled away from your tasks as time dwindled. You sighed as you rubbed your forehead, feeling that nagging of a nasty headache coming on. You had a text in Trig. that afternoon not to mention the first half of a Science Lab that was literally half your grade for the semester. Time away from your books and sheets were tally marks equivalent of failure in your pessimistic mind.

“Hey,” Jungkook’s voice shifted as he stood back properly and dropped his arms from his head. Voice lowered as his face shifted from cocky and grin-split to one of what one might see as apologetic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it kept you that busy.”

You just held your hand out towards him to stop any further apologies or excuses. Shaking your head, you took a breath and tried your best to wave it off.

“Nonetheless,” you began again, looking back up at him, “I’m in the middle of studying, so please don’t make me chase you down again. At least for the next hour.” The conversation concluded with Jungkook agreeing to your terms- probably because of the short term agreement of an hour- and you turned to get back to your classroom to make up for your precious wasted time.

When school ended that day, you groaned as you walked to the library to see it packed with student after student. No empty tables, chairs or private coves left that would bring you any sort of comfortable study time. You completed the public library, but it was so far and you road the public bus to school today because your parent’s needed the car.

You felt a tap on your shoulder as you left the library and saw none other than the Jeon Jungkook himself. After school in the library hall and not in the locker rooms for tennis practice where he should be.

“If you need a place to study, you can sit on the bleachers at practice,” he offered. His voice heightening at the end of his statement to morph it into a semi-questions.

“Study at your tennis practice. On the bleachers.” He nodded. “How am I suppose to work with you-”

“I won’t cause problems or distract you, I swear!” He promised. “I’ll literally just walk you and then practice like you aren’t even there. Plus, some good ole vitamin C couldn’t hurt, yeah? And if it gets too hot, there’s a bench not too far from the bleachers under some trees for some shade.”

You ended up giving in as he was soon dragging you towards the track and field area that had the tennis courts directly next to it, separated only with a tall wire fence. The same fence you know Jungkook had climbed and jumped in the dead hours of the night for some sneaky tennis training in his rookie freshman days.

Slamming your back chock-full of books and notes down onto the cold, metal bleachers, you cracked open a book and got to work as Jungkook ran to the small lockerroom house to change.

Tennis was a lot more intense than you originally thought. It was probably 40 minutes into practice before they actually started grabbing racquets and practicing serves and returns. The upperclassmen would purposely falt the court and wait to see if one would call it out. They’d slacken the net line or watch for wrong stances in the players.

When the team finally split into teams of doubles, Jungkook was the server of his team. He had always been the first pick as a server for his powerful slams. And since servers were servers through the entire game, it was an Ace for the team competing. His stances shifted from open to closed and between flawlessly like a dance routine. Skidding and jumping around the back of the court while his teammate stayed in no-man’s land by the net.

Returning the ball with powerful underhand swing and the occasional overhead slam, he did a fairly good practice match. He kept track of every ball he hit out or each time he skimmed the net and when he was switched out with another team, he would run that number in his head as exercises. If he got 4 out, it was 4 sets of squats or 4 sets of swings of his racquet.

You found yourself watching practice more than focusing on your studies. It was interesting and more attention-grabbing than you thought. You only focused solely on your work when Jungkook caught you watching with interest as he took a break to take small sips of his water. Sending a shit-eating grin your way along with making his hand open and close like a butterfly, you stuck your nose back in your book. Even turning your back on him and the courts for good measure.

He lied when he said he wouldn’t be a distraction.

“So, who was the girl?” Jungkook, out of breath from practice had just peeled off his sweater tennis jersey when a teammate of his marched up to him. He turned to the inquisitive member to see his Captain, a certain almost smug look on his face. Jung Hoseok was the top player of the tennis team like he had tennis embedded into the routes of his DNA. Jungkook took his towel, rubbing the sweat off his neck as he stood shirtless in the locker room like half of his team did as they waited for turns for the shower.

“You mean Y/n?” He questioned as she turned to sit on the stone bench, leaning against his shut- but unlocked- locker. Taking a quick swig of his water bottle. Hoseok plonked himself beside his golden teammate and friend with excited curiosity. Jungkook just sighed. “She’s a friend of mine, we’ve known each other since forever.” He took another drink before he remembered something. “She’s running for student council president,” he tacted on as Hoseok seemed to recall seeing some posters or something with her name on it for the upcoming election ballot.

“Oh yeah, I think I knew that.”

“Would you vote for her?” Jungkook asked tentatively. He wasn’t interested in student council anything, to be honest, but you did. So maybe he could dock you a few votes or just spread your name around.

“I dunno man, I don’t do votes through friends. I don’t usually get involved in student council issues. Not my scene,” he shrugged. Jungkook cupped his chin in thought, thinking of the best possible course of action to try and persuade his captain into putting a single tiny checkmark next to your name when voting comes around.

Hoseok watched the younger student sit in the privacy of his head and his thought. He bit back a smile, rolling his lips over his teeth as he sucked in a breath. Jungkook was a popular kid, attracting all sorts of attention and was his star player. He could always throw him a bone to help his friend. You looked studious enough as he watched you occasionally as you were always scribbling away on whatever topics you were jumping between. It was rare for Hoseok to see Jungkook tunnel vision focus on one person and their student council vote, something Hoseok knew the younger really didn’t care for.

Hoseok heard a shower shut off before someone was calling him. “This one is all yours, Captain!”

“Rock on!” He called back as he stood from the bench and stretched, his stomach flattening before he lowered his arms and stretched them over his sweat glistened chest. “I’ll vote for her,” Hoseok said as Jungkook looked up to him. Hoseok looked down at his sitting figure and slapped a smile on his face. “She was cute enough to earn a vote from me anyway,” he added with his thumb and forefinger under his chin.

Jungkook ended up chasing his Captain into the showers and throwing his bar of soap at him, earning a high squeal in return. Jungkook almost may or may not have dumped his half-full bottle of ice-cold water over the shower divide right onto Hoseok head. Making the boy scream in at least three increasingly different- almost feminine octaves- Jungkook booked it out of the locker room.

“Jeon!”

You had just finished packing up your bag with tucked away papers and folders with the books you couldn’t afford to fit into the prison that is your bag held to your chest. Stepping carefully down and off the metal bleachers, you crossed the courts to leave, the team now all vacated. You were hardly off-campus when cars from the team members started zooming past you- car way too flashy to be high schooler’s cars.

After three had passed you, it wasn’t long before number four rolled up. Instead of going past like the reason, this one pulled close to the curb of the sidewalk and stopped. You in turn also stopping as the passenger side window rolled down revealing the driver.

“I’ll give you a ride!” Jungkook who sat inside, leaned over his middle console shouted over the humming of his car. Contrast to his teammates, his car wasn’t looking as shiny and new but it wasn’t a lame car by any man’s standards. It ran, got him from place to place and he acted like it was his unborn kin. He even named the freaking hunk of aluminum.

You just rose your brow towards him in the shelter of his car. He reached over and unlocked the passenger door, unlatching it and pushing the door a few inches open. “Come on,” he sung. “We live across the street from each other.” You sighed, giving in to his persistence as you slid in.

The ride you were expecting to be quiet since it was only a ten-minute drive max was shockingly filled with conversation as Jungkook wasted no time in chatting as soon as you shut the door. Opening with topics of school activities to random weekend plans that all somehow lead to him bringing up the election. You looked skeptically at him, knowing he couldn’t care less about school affairs like student council.

“Who are you even running against anyway?” He didn’t even know that?

“You don’t follow school functions at all besides sports at all, do you?”

“Nah.”

You sighed. “Kim Namjoon is my competition.” Jungkook whistled. “It’s not like I’m expecting to win. Honestly, I’d be happy with the vice-chair if all else.” In reality, you halfway expected yourself to lose. Namjoon was a legend in both academics and his popularity that only seemed to keep skyrocketing. He was handsome and clever, even if his physical activities abilities were closer to zero.

He can recite the alphabet backward but make that boy run a 100-meter dash and it was all over. He’d tap out at meter 50 on a good day. His coordination left much to be desired. At least being student council president didn’t include the task of being active in sports. He’d be doomed.

“Don’t settle for less when you don’t have to,” Jungkoo told you. “So what- Namjoon is competing- big whoop. You’re smart too.”

“Are you cheering me on?” You jested as he returned a shrug.

“Uh, duh. I feel obligated as your longest-standing friend to be objectively on your side.

You placed a hand on your chest. “I’m flattered,” you spoke with equal amounts of flattery and sarcasm. He returned with a halfhearted ‘harharhar’. “Really though, I’m willing to rack in some votes with my election posters.”

“You’ve made them?”

“Absolutely not.” Jungkook just shook his head. He pulled up at your house, sat by the curb as you unbuckle your seatbelt. Picking up your bag off the floor by your feet, you opened the car door. Jungkook rolled down the window as you stepped out and shut the door behind you. He leaned over the middle console again.

“Hey, Butterfly~,” you looked back at him over your shoulder. “I’m pretty damn artistic, just so the general public knows.”

“What, so I’m the general public now?”

“Well, considering your uber large communication circle-”

“Just say you want to help me with my posters and go.” All he did was shoot you a shit-eating grin as he sat back up and moved to pull his car into his own driveway across the road. Getting out and grabbing his bag from the backseat he heard you calling him. You were standing at your front door. “You coming or not you brain-dead jock?!” You shouted, cupping around your mouth.

Jungkook sprinted across his yard, the street, your yard and up to your door to stand at your side in record time. Rolling your eyes at his gleaming smile at being allowed to help, he followed your back inside the house. You called out into your home to whatever parent was home at the moment that Jungkook was with you.

You avoid any distracting conversations that would pull Jungkook away, you scaled the staircase that was almost immediate to the front door, Jungkook following behind you. In the safety of your room, you put your bag on the floor of your closet and ran back and forth between your closet, desk, and bookshelf for random things you just threw on your bed. As you did so, Jungkook stood around, looking at your room.

He’s known you a long, long time but he can’t say he’s ever really had the time to look around and get a feel for your room. Your room was an extension of you, coated in your favorite colors, hobbies, interests and was a perfect summary of your life until this point. Posters of bands and of your favorite movies were cluttered on the wall (some even tacked to the ceiling). Framed photos of your family members sat on your desk by your shut laptop and 3 different hex-boxes. One filled with pens, another with markers and the third with pencils. Your bed was tall enough to hit Jungkook’s thigh with the boxspring supported mattress and a dark wooden bed frame. He curled his lips over his teeth to keep from smiling at the bubblegum pink bedspread lay across it.

He walked to your bed when he noticed that one dreamcatcher he bought you. It was a gift because he knew you were having bad dreams and knowing you were being scared by yourself sucked, he wanted to help. He smiled when he saw that small, metal whistle he gave you as a kid to help with bullying.

“I can’t believe you kept these,” he turned, gesturing to the dreamcatcher-whistle pair on the wall. You looked at him before you looked at the two items then returned to taking a package of 15 poster boards and slamming them onto the floor in a giant ‘schwoop’.

“Of course I did, you gave them to me,” you said so nonchalantly, yet that one sentence made his heart lurch.

“Oh, I see.” He cleared his throat. “So, gifts from me are special, eh? I’m flattered,” he sang as he joined your floor-seated body down on the carpet. Half an hour later, you were sat in awe at the almost caricature sketch of you that Jungkook had drawn.

“Holy shit!” You yelled, a smile breaking on your face. “That’s awesome, I didn’t know you could draw!” He tutted as he sat straighter, obviously delighted from the praise.

“It’s a gift, what can I say.” he smiled as he simmered down. “Honestly, it’s a skill I don’t flaunt around because I don’t draw often. It’s more of a stress relief ability, you know? Like how people doodle on notes or homework to help them remember or concentration on stuff.” His sincerity was instantly replaced with the same ego he put on on the daily. “I get enough attention from my flawless performance in sports already. It’d be just so suffocating to also be idolized as an artist.” You swore his nose grew four feet in boastfulness.

“I can see it now,” you started, deciding to feed into his parade. “Jeon Jungkook: prodigy of the Arts and Sports Balls. Does the talent ever end?” You spoke in a faux-Shakespearian baritone.

“Now, you’re getting it!” Jungkook and you worked on your posters for hours before your mother offered you both a seat at the dinner table before you both starve. It was nice having Jungkook over again, and you never realized how much of a friend he actually is. He and you have always been in a sort of frenemies relationship. Now, though, he was just a friend. He felt like your best friend; the best friend you’ve been fortunate enough to have since you were 5.

No way in hell you’d tell him that though. His ego would inflate so much he’d explode like a damn party balloon.

It was 8 pm when you decided enough work was done and you could relieve Jungkook of his artist duties for the evening. Honestly, he’s done enough art on most of the posters that you could probably finish them up yourself. You should really pay him for his efforts and time. Maybe slip a $20 in his wallet when he’s not looking because you know he’d outright refuse money from you.

He picked up his bag and hoisted it on his shoulder as you walked him out of your room, careful not to step on the posters and down the stairs to the door. The two of you stood on the front porch talking a moment in the sliver of remaining dusk.

“If you want, I can take you out for Chinese or something to say thank you for your help today,” you offered. You really did want to pay him back, and if he wouldn’t accept money then he’s got to say yes to a free meal. And Chinese? He’s weak against the offer of it; saying no was almost taboo.

He leaned into you, a grin painted on his flawless, dumb face. “Are you asking me out on a date, Butterfly?” He teased with a wiggle of his eyebrows that almost made you laugh. You just smiled and played along, throwing your hands up.

“Well, if you don’t want to-”

“I never said no!” He quickly saved. He just trotted back to your door as he left your porch to his own house. When you marched back up to your room, you started cleaning up your poster mess when your phone went off, the piece of technology sitting on your bed.

It was Jungkook texting you, only his contact name was Dreamcatcher.

Dreamcatcher: So, when’s our date?

You wanted to ask back if he really thought it could be a date before you stopped yourself. Why on earth would you even care if he thought it was a date or not? You floundered before you sent him back saying it could be tomorrow- if he wanted. Your face felt hot when you got the okay from him back.

You had a date with Jeon Jungkook.

It was Saturday and as much as he didn’t want to, Jungkook had to go to weekend tennis practice. They had a game coming up, so Hoseok wanted to squeeze in as much practice as he could. If Jungkook had it his way, he’d skip altogether and get to the part where it’s just him, you and Chinese food steaming in front of him.

Instead, here he was. Lugging himself out of bed as Hoseok honked outside. He offered to pick him up since his house was right on the way and Jungkook wasn’t going to pass up the chance to save on gas money. So, with a mess of hair on his head and a wrinkled jersey and his duffle with his tennis uniform and shoes and racquet, he was out of his house and in the car with his captain.

“Good morning there, Kook.” Jungkook just groaned at him, tossing his duffle in the back as he slouched in the seat. “Someone’s grumpy in the morning,” he laughed as he ruffled Jungkook’s already unsaveable mess of hair. As hoseok pulled out, Jungkook looked up and could see you from your window. Moving to see better, you had pulled back your curtains (probably to see what dickwad was honking so early in the morning). You looked tired, and as you saw Jungkook in the car looking up at you, you waved.

He smiled and waved back before Hoseok was on the road.

“That’s Y/n’s house, ain’t it?’ Hoseok voiced as he pulled to the end of the road to turn. Since school grounds are closed on the weekends, the team meets as the public courts. “You told me she leaves across the street from you, but I didn’t think it was literal.”

“Yeah, it’s her house.” Jungkook sat in his chair, pulling down the sun visor and flipping open the mirror to try and pat down his hair. “How long do you think practice is going to run today?” Hoseok tapped on his wheel a few time, thinking about the answer.

“Hmm, dunno. I would like to be done no later than noon.” Jungkook looked at the radio, the clock showing it to be just past 8 am. Jungkook nodded.

“Yeah, okay. Noon is good,” he said more to himself than to Hoseok. Pulling out his phone, he sent you a text. Telling you that a lunch date would be perfect if you were up for it since he wanted to be done around noon- and also bidding you a good morning because he's a gentleman. He smiled- giggled even- when you texted him back.

Butterfly: It’s way too early to be this excited over Chinese food. Yes, a lunch date is fine with my incredibly jam-packed schedule. Sweat out all that testosterone hitting those sports balls, Jock.

“It’s 8 am,” hoseok started, pulling Jungkook from his micro-conversation with you, “what are you all giddy about?” Jungkook sat back, smiled as he bit his lip and bounced in his seat.

“I have a date today.”

“All right, wrap it up!” Hoseok shouted after he blew his whistle slung around his neck as his team members fell to the court exhausted. Contrary to his squirrel-like innocent face, Hoseok was absolutely ruthless when it came to pushing his team to get the results he wanted. Drilling them on basics until their arm flew off or testing their reflexes by lining them up and bombarding them with back to back intense tennis serves. Some freshmen swore they’d see Hoseok’s face behind a flaming tennis ball in their nightmares.

A rightful description to be fair.

Even Jungkook who had been training on the team with him since he became captain last year still got winded from Hoseok’s drills. No one could say they were fruitless though, they always brought results one way or another. That was his whole goal after all.

Jungkook lay on the tennis court, eyes closed as he had his mouth open like a fish as he took deep, shaking breaths. Exhausted and coated in a gross layer of sweat, he wanted nothing more than to shower in the public locker room. Some members had already lugged their wobbly, jelly bodies to do just that- aiming for a cold shower just to get their body moving again. The sun was high as Hoseok sighed in content.

“Finished by noon, just like I wanted.” He put his hands on his hips when he saw someone standing behind the mesh wire that surrounded the court. He smiled as he waved to the person in question. He cupped around his mouth as he shouted to them. “Hiya, Y/n! You’re looking cute today!” Jungkook’s eyes shot open when Hoseok mentioned you. He shot up from his lying position on the blue court as he whipped to see you.

Jungkook looked at you with his mouth hanging open, Hoseok laughing as he slapped his thigh at his friend’s reaction. He wasn’t expecting you to show up at the tennis courts, so his open mouth reaction wasn’t uncalled for per se. Yet, there you stood in a Jungkook’s favorite pair of jeans and a tee-shirt with a bowl of ramen on it. Your small purse with your wallet, phone and probably a bottle of ibuprofen hanging low at your waist.

Meanwhile, Jungkook sat a sweaty, stinky tennis-abused wreck. It didn’t stop him from smiling and hopping up to go greet you. Standing in front of you on the other side of the fence. “What’re you doing here?” He smiled as he asked.

“Why else? A Chinese food date is calling our name, and I don’t know about you why I would kill for some crab rangoon right about now.”

“Oh, worry not, we’ll get them crabs.” You laughed as you were soon ushering him off to shower and change. Hoseok caught him in the locker room and took his chances to tease him again.

“She’s looking pretty cute,” he told Jungkook. Jungkook already knowing this obviously. “I didn’t know she was your date, I’m almost jealous.” Hoseok continued as he stripped off his jersey shirt, Jungkook doing the same as he stepped into one of the showers. Jungkook didn’t reciprocate most of Hoseok’s chides, however right before he left, he grabbed his friend’s shoulder. Now fully dressed in jeans, a white shirt and his duffle with his hair slightly dripping from his shower, he smiled almost menacingly to his captain.

“She’s cute, but she’s off-limits, Captain.”

“Right,” Hoseok replied with a shiver and risen hands. “Message received.”

Jungkook made his way outside and ran from the courts, pushing the fence gate open as he met with you who was sitting against the fence in the small patch of grass before the court. Jungkook, helping you up, he was soon asking where you two were going to eat as Hoseok watched from the locker room’s door. Smiling because there was nothing more natural than you two and Chinese food.

You ended up taking Jungkook to a rather new Chinese buffet that opened just over a month ago. He was shocked and almost refused you foot the bill for it yourself since- let’s be real- buffet prices per person are steep. You wouldn’t yield and proceeded to hush him as you both stood at the counter, ready to be seated for two.

Slid into a booth by a window that showed the street, you were both served your beverage of choice before the two of you were jumping up and loading up your first plates. You lost track of time between eating and talking with Jungkook. Cracking stupid jokes, making everyday conversation and bringing up who was whose favorite teacher in school- as well as bonding over the one teacher everyone loathed for their cut-throat teaching practices.

Jungkook flinched and the guilt crept up his neck when the bill was slipped to you with the recycled line of ‘no rush, take your time’. You swiped the black book with your receipt inside and slide your card in with it, closing it back up and setting it back on the table edge for your server to return to take it and efficiently drain your bank account of money.

“How bad was the damage?” He asked, arms crossed on the table with a stack of plates at his side; his Coke half drained of its second refill.

You just shook your head. “It wasn’t awful,” you waved and dismissed, but you had to be lying. The food was good, the service and catering weren’t something to sneeze at and the place was brand-spanking-new for Christ’s sake. It surely wasn’t as cheap as you were trying to make him believe. “Don’t worry about it,” you told him, leaning against the table with a smile. “I told you I’d treat you for your work on my posters. Now, we’re even.” Jungkook just sat in a huffy pout as you just laughed at his whining.

The bill was taken, returned and you signed off on the buffet’s copy of your bill before you were taking back your card, your copy of the bill, shoving them in your purse and standing up. Jungkook following as you both left the restaurant with good reviews of the new place to eat.

You both stood on the street corner, people buzzing around going to and fro. You stood at a traffic light, waiting for the light to change and allow you passage across the road. Jungkook knew that the plan was to actually walk home since nothing else was planned. He had a different idea, however. Before you could start walking when the red hand switched to a blue walking person, Jungkook grabbed your hand and dragged you off backward away from the crosswalk.

“What are you doing? Home is that way?” You pointed behind you as you got dragged through people. Jungkook stopped only when there was an opening between suits. He smiled down at you, still holding your hand.

“I know. I’m just being selfish now,” he chuckled.

You rose your brow. “Selfish?”

He nodded in confirmation, hand squeezing around yours and shaking it in confirmation. “Yup. Selfish. Let’s not go home yet. Let’s walk around some. Shop, get some tea or something.” You had no particular plans for the day, so you had no reason to object. You solely convinced yourself that the reason you nodded your head and why you allowed Jungkook to tow you around after eating was that you had no other plans. It definitely wasn’t because you may accidentally have a crush on him. No way.

The two of you spent all afternoon shopping around from store to store, not really purchasing anything, but just eye shopping was a joy with the two of you in each other’s presence. Jungkook was glad that you were enjoying yourself as much as him (he made sure to always ask about every hour to see if you were still having fun). He didn’t tug you around so that you wouldn’t have fun. You didn’t get out much and had a small circle of friends, even if he teases you about how many people you know.

Knowing people and having friends are complete differences, and Jungkook felt like he was the culprit behind it. He was always the one to disregard rules or stir up trouble since primary school. You were the only one able to control him and before he knew it, he acted out solely for that purpose. He knew that someone would soon fetch you and he would be muzzled by his tamer. Because of that, and Jungkook’s popularity, you made more enemies than friends. He was selfish though, he wanted your attention and the best way he got it was by acting like a blundering fool.

Now, with the past two days you’ve spent with each other, maybe that could change. He was certain that now, he could call you without causing a ruckus. He could walk beside you and laugh with you as a just himself, not as someone who was just taking another lecture about being responsible in stride. He wanted nothing more than to walk beside you.

“Jungkook!” You called to him as you both stood in some women’s clothing store you were practically drooling over every time you both passed the window. He decided to make it the last stop of the day since it was getting late and you both needed your rest. Jungkook has another early morning practice he dreaded. “Look, isn’t this ring neat? It’s supposed to be anti-negativity.” You chuckled as you showed him a simple, dark grey ring. It looked like it was somewhere between metal and stone, and was simple to a fault.

“Do you believe in that anti-negativity, anti-stress stuff?” He raised an eyebrow. You cupped your chin.

“Well, I don’t not believe in it. It’s not like I’d wear it and expect to be positive just because it’s on. It’s a dual effort, or maybe I see it as more of a type of mental cushion. A mind over matter type of deal.” Jungkook nodded as he picked it up from your palm.

“How much is it?”

“Just a few dollars. I think I’ll get one, just for chuckles.” You told him as he nodded again and trapped the ring in his hand. You gasped as you tried to snatch his hand to get the ring back, but he just held it above his head, a grin on his dumb face as it was far out of your reach. He even pushed on your head to keep you that much further away from it. He was soon walking to the desk where he placed it down. You peeked around his back, seeing what he was doing. “Jungkook?” You asked as he just quietly hushed you.

The ring rang up as $3 something and you nearly slapped the $5 Jungkook handed the clerk. He just pushed your hand away as she broke the change to hand back to him. When it was all said and done, Jungkook took the ring from the counter and called for you two to be going home. You chased after him in a fit of wanting answers.

When you both got outside, he slipped the ring on your finger and pat your hand.

“You didn’t have to buy it,” you mumbled as he just chuckled. He lifted your hand and kissed where the ring sat.

“I don’t have to do a lot of things, but that won’t stop me. You know that” he sent a wink at you as you stood speechless. He laughed at your red face as he began to tug you home at his side. His hand holding yours that held your new ring.

“Are you going to my tennis match this weekend?” Jungkook who was once against loafing over at your home asked as you sat at your desk, scribbling down your math equations. You turned in your chair to look at him lying on his stomach on your bed, comic open in front of him.

“I was planning on it. Why?” He smiled. Abandoning the comic and placing his cheeks in his hands, elbows pushing into your mattress. You recoiled slightly at the look on his face. “What’s with the face?”

“You’re going to support and cheer me on, right?” You rolled your eyes as you just turned back to your work. He flopped onto his back as he stared up at your ceiling. “I really hope we win, I have a whole celebration planned out if we do.”

“Oh, and what celebration plan is that?” You asked, not stopping writing the next step of your equation.

“It’s a secret,” he sung.

“That’s not fair, why’d you bring it up then!” You stopped, turning around again- feeling cheated. He craned his neck to look at you, his face upside down and his bangs falling to expose his forehead onto your mattress.

“It’s a secret because it directly involves you!” He cheerily told you with a giddy smile.

“I don’t have to buy you Chinese food again, do I?” He shook his head, rolling back onto his stomach and planting his chin in the bed.

“No. You don’t, it's free of charge celebration for you.” That was all he was going to tell you as you just returned to work and he was soon nuzzling his face into the bedspread. It smelt of your perfume. The scent calming, the repetitive scratching of your pencil in your book and the silence and comfort of your room and your presence eventually made the tennis player fall asleep.

You were shocked at the surprising lack of conversation from the boy behind you. When you turned to investigate, you smiled warmly at his sleeping figure surrounded by the pink of your bedspread. The color complimented him somehow. Quietly lifting yourself from your desk chair, you padded over to sit gently beside his body on the bed. You pet at his hair as he moved to push his cheek further into the mattress.

“You’re spoilt,” you chuckled in a whisper. You leaned to kiss the cheek that faced upwards towards the ceiling when your mother called for you. Not yelling back to her in fear of waking the overworked tennis player, you silently came to your mother’s call downstairs.

Down the stairs, your mother stood in wait. Drying her hands on the front of her apron.

“Oh my, where’s Jungkook?” She asked.

“He conked out on my bed. I’m gonna let him sleep for a while. What did you need?” She seemed to remember why she called you in the first place. She had experimented on a new pie she hadn’t made before and you were volunteered as the taste tester. You didn’t mind really- her baking was usually pretty tasty.

Half an hour, two pie slices and a kitchen clean up later, you trotted back up the stairs to your room. Walking in and seeing Jungkook laying on his side, but awake now. He groaned at you to show he actually perceived your presence; to which you just shook your head at.

“Have a pleasant nap?” He groggily nodded along your bed as you moved to sit beside him again. He crawled to plant his cheek on your thigh, sighing contently. He’s been a clingy sleeper ever since you two were children. If you two were to take your afternoon naps in the same vicinity, he’d always end up clinging to you then too.

“You smell nice,” he slurred.

“Probably like the pie mom made.” Jungkook just hummed and you both stayed in comfortable silence. The sun kept teasing the horizon, signaling the nighttime and you tried convincing the sleepy boy on your leg to get up and go swagger himself back to his own home. He kept denying you of this, however. “Jungkook, you need to go home.” He just shook his head for the umpteenth time. Soon, someone knocked on your door and your mom peeked her head inside. Smiling seeing Jungkook half asleep on your lap.

“Darling, dad won’t be home until late tonight. The poor man got roped into another double.” You nodded as you gestured to Jungkook’s head.

“Alright, but can you tell him he needs to go home and sleep? He won’t listen to me, but you’re an authoritative adult.” You mother just giggled.

“Jungkook, dear. You’re more than welcome to stay the night.” He lifted his head as he nodded pathetically. “I’ll call your mother and let her know then, sweetie.” Then she back out of the room.

“No- wait. Mom!” You looked down at the boy smiling winningly up at you. You just lightly smacked his forehead with your fingertips. “Spoilt jock. You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” He just rolled his eyes, wanting to get comfortable again.

As Jungkook pretty much remained rooted to your bed, you showered and changed into a loose PJ crop off and sweats (foregoing the shirts matching pair of shorts as a whole). Your mother brought some shorts and a tee for Jungkook to wear as he lay under our bubblegum blankets.

You stood at your desk, straightening up as Jungkook watched you. You flicked off your desk light as he spoke up.

“You’re sleeping in here, right?” He questioned as you looked over your shoulder.

“Duh. It’s my room. I’ll just make some palette on the floor with some pillows or something.” You shrugged as Jungkook shot up, shaking his head in protest.

“No! You can lay in your bed with me. I’m not kicking you out of your bed.” You just crossed your arm. “Come on, Y/n. Please?” You flinched as he clearly wasn’t against pouting to get his way. In the end, you caved.

Shutting off the light and moved to lay in bed next to him. Your back facing him, you felt him shift in the bed before he slung an arm around you- true to his koala sleeping habits.

“Is this okay?” He wanted to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable.

“It’s fine, Jungkook. Go to sleep.”

“Okay. goodnight.” when he was sure you were asleep before he was, he turned you around- knowing not even Armageddon could wake you up. He lifted and pushed your hair behind your neck and shoulder as he looked at you. He was sleeping not long after.

It was the afternoon of the tennis match. Jungkook was more fired up than usual, prompting Hoseok to ask if someone sparked him or something recently. Nothing specifically came to mind. He’s practically been freeloading at your house all week long- something about being good luck for his game? You didn’t even try to start to understand him and his logic truth be told.

When before game practice started, it was obvious to anyone that he was pacing himself. Not wanting to wear himself thing before the game actually started. He was instructing his members and strictly speaking with the teammate he’d be placed in doubles with.

When the rival team showed up on the court, they were already well disliked. Their held high attitude irked the home team, making Hoseok more compelled to have his team crush them under their bigoted egos.

Throughout the series of games to be played, 2 sets in total (one for the senior players and another for the newbies), Jungkook would be in a double as well as a single. The doubles would start out the matches as they would end in one on one sets- no doubt wreaking of testosterone.

When the court spectators began arriving, Jungkook was drilling his serves when you slid into a vacant bench spot at the front. Dropping your purse at your feet and pull your phone out. If someone thought you weren’t going to take pictures of Jungkook playing- they were so wrong. You were hoping to score a perfect serve photo at least on time to hand up on your wall next to your dreamcatcher.

When he saw you, he smiled delightedly that you even showed up at all. You had told him so, but a part of him was still worried. He ran to you as he was a tad breathless from the practice beforehand on top of his jog over.

“Ready to play your best?” you asked him.

“Hell yeah. Don’t fall for me too hard,” he said with a twirl of his racquet. Hand on his hip and an air of confidence that wasn’t very egotistical per se, but very much adding to his tennis boy charm. You rolled your eyes as you whisked his away back to the court.

You were probably too invested in the games once they started. Getting especially riled up when Jungkook played. When his double match began, his first serve had you- and a few other school go-ers- up and pumping at the sheer force he slammed the ball with. Always serving perfectly without losing a serve or getting called for a foot fault. His first serve was always met with perfection and flawless follow-through.

His gameplay was a conversation of power that was released the moment he returned the ball by slamming it into the face of his racquet. He even pounded out a few kill shots, the rival team unable to even whisk the ball with their racquet and scoring a point because not once did his ball bounce out of court lines. Of course, his teammate did well also. Placed by the net at the forecourt, he poached the ball to Jungkook any chance he got for some great offensive power.

Jungkook and his teammate won his game with a 40-15 score.

Through the other games in the first set, there were back to back deuces and a few love games as well. The rival school may be arrogant, but they had game in them. Jungkook just barely finished his water when his single match was announced. It was the final game in the second set, so this would finish off the sport entirely for the day before an overall winning team was announced.

His approach to his game was different than his double. As he stood at backcourt, he seemed to look at every corner and draw out where his opponent may return or backhand the ball at or away from him. The umpire was more than accustomed to calling faults and outs by now. Taking into account that the field of playing for singles is far narrower than doubles- the sidelines make his width movement and return planning a bit tricky to get a feel for.

Honestly, by the time it was all over, and he served his final overhand- his main goal to was land a putaway in the sweet spot of his racquet. How he actually managed to pull that off, he wasn’t sure. It all happened in a fit of adrenaline and when the game was called, all he did was cheer in a sheen coat of sweat and gasped breathes.

A 30 to nothing game: 30-Love.

After all was said and done, the home team was just barely able to claim the victory for themselves, Jungkook was whisked away in a flood of sweaty tennis men back into the locker room to shower. You were ready to head home and expect him to barge into your home (again) when your phone buzzed.

Dreamcatcher: Don’t go home yet. I have to celebrate with you!

Sat on the hood of his car, you wait. Waving or saying hello to leaving tennis members who saw and passed you. You congratulating each one you could for their victory. It was only dark when Jungkook came jogging up to the car, putting his duffle on the hood beside you.

“Congrats on your win, jock.” He smiled triumphantly.

“You doubted me and my skill? No one is better than me with a racquet.”

“Hoseok is,” you countered.

“He is invalid to this argument specifically,” he chuckled as he climbed onto the car hood with you, the team pretty much dissolved now except for a few freshman stragglers who were waiting on rides back home to pass out most likely. “Honestly, having you watch was a big motivational push. I can’t look lame when you’re watching me.”

“You’re a high schooler who chased a yellow ball around a court, smacking it back and forth and drowning in sweat. You always look lame,” that was a lie and you both knew it. Even though that was exactly the case, Jungkook was probably cooler back there than he’s ever been in your eyes. He knew that just as well as you did.

“Jealous?” He teased. You rolled your eyes at him. “Oh, you ready to hear how we’re going to celebrate?”

“Isn’t that why I waited for you on your car, dummy?”

He snickered as he snapped in front of your eyes, making you go cross-eyed for a moment. “Close your eyes.” You looked at him skeptically. “What? You think I’m going to draw on your wit a marker or something?”

“You would, wouldn’t you,” you sneered.

“Just close them.” You caved as you did as you were told. Your eyes were closed for a maximum of a few seconds before they flew open when you felt Jungkook kissing you. Holding behind your neck, it was like he was turning even kissing into a sport. And you were sorely losing. When he pulled back, he laughed- literally- into your face. “You look like a glow stick,” he chided. You burned and just flounder back at him.

“You’re blushing just as much as me! Loser!” You whacked at his arm, but with hardly any force at all. He laughed again, gripping his stomach. When he settled you were holding your cheeks, trying to mentally will them to cool downJungkook grabbed your chin and turned your face with his index finger to face him again.

“Our celebration is another date, but this one is on me. As a serious gesture of how much I legitimately want you to recognize me as someone who feels a hell of a lot towards you.”

“I think I can recognize that just fine,” you muttered as he chuckled at you. “How about a date, but maybe if you consider maybe considering me as someone who likes you too?” He placed his forehead on yours, puckering at your nose and making it tingle before you pulled away from him and sneezed into your arm. Him laughing at your sensitive sneezing before you unleashed a tirade of wimpy socks to his arm.

He caught them easily enough before he was gearing up to kiss you again. “I think that’d count as a direct kill shot, Butterfly.” With all this good luck recently, who knows. Maybe you actually can win that student council election.

-END-

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borealis-strange · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 15: One vision

Summary:

"October 12, 1671

After a month of traveling, my crew and I finally found an island to live on after being exiled. It looks quite promising and has abundant vegetation. It seems that this island has never been documented. At the moment there seem to be no inhabitants other than animals. The night is already falling and the best thing is to rest. Tomorrow we will continue our exploration. "

P.S.: There are only three chapters left

Tag-list: @whitequeen-ofwillowgreen @likesomekindofcheese @0-primejive-0

March started in the blink of an eye. The queen informed them that they had to return to the castle to continue their studies. In addition, she believed that they had already been punished enough, she had also finished her affairs outside the country.

Since they had arrived at the castle Roger's visions became more constant. He did not give them much importance but the curious thing about those visions was that it was always the same. That night was no exception.

As on other occasions, he was in a church. The church's architecture was similar to that of the Black Queen's Castle with its large pointed arches crossing diagonally to form a vault at the top. The only difference was that this church was not so gloomy, but quite the opposite, it was completely white. The only thing that gave it color were the red carpets and the rose arrangements on the sides of the hall.

On the benches sat upper class people dressed in elegant clothes.

At the altar was a woman with long blonde hair wearing a white dress that reached to the floor.

And in front of her was a man in silver armor kneeled.

-Gentlemen, I present to you Atlas Reinaldo Black, your undisputed king. Therefore, all those who have come this day to provide vassalage and service, are you willing to do it? - The priestess spoke with a sweet almost angelic voice.

All visions began in the same way, with the coronation of Atlas. He still didn't understand why he had them. Did the spirit of Atlas want to say something to him? All his visions were about the future, not about the past, and less if it was about someone with whom he had no blood relationship.

Roger sat on one of the benches in front to see better the details or some clue as to why that vision.

-Do you promise and swear to rule the island of Rhye, as well as its possessions and other territories belonging to any of it, in accordance with their respective laws and customs? - The woman continued with the coronation ritual.

-I solemnly promise it - Atlas replied.

-And to ensure, to the extent of its power, that all its judgments are presided over by Law, Justice and Mercy? -

-Yes -

-Will you maintain with all her power the laws of our Goddess and the true profession of the Gospel? Will you keep Rhye in the Reformed Protestant religion established by law? Will the Church of Rhye, its doctrine, worship, discipline, and government as established by law, maintain and preserve? And will it preserve the bishops and clerics of Rhye and the churches in their care all the rights and privileges that are recognized by law? -

-I promise. Everything I have promised up to now I will fulfill and keep with the help of our Goddess -

The oath to the crown had not changed much, it was practically the same. The only thing that changed was how many kings were crowned. Formerly there was only one king but as the small towns expand Rhye was divided into four regions. And, according to custom, the four kings have to be crowned at the same time.

-By the power that my goddess grants me on earth - The priestess continued with the coronation - I name you the first king of this new nation. - He grabbed the crown - And you will be known as ...

Roger did not hear the ending as he woke up suddenly. That always happened, just at the end of the ceremony he woke up. He really didn't care how Atlas would be known as; he already knew that, the priestess would only say "and you will be known as Atlas the perfect king"

He lay in his bed for a few minutes thinking about what to do. That day they had no classes and had nothing to do. Freddie went to visit his parents and John went to who knows where.

He got up and dressed in the first thing he found. He left his room but did not go directly to the dining room, that morning he was not hungry. He wandered around the castle a little looking for Brian. And, unsurprisingly, he was sitting quietly in the library.

-What are you doing in the library?- Roger asked as he sat next to Brian.

-Do you remember the book of magical creatures? Well, I'm still trying to figure out what language it is in order to know all the secrets it hides -

Roger rolled his eyes.

-Are you seriously still with that? It's just a fantasy book, you should forget it -

Roger walked over to get a better look at the book and that was what had Brian so intrigued. He saw the words written in black ink and immediately identified the language.

-Oh! - Roger exclaimed - It's in Latin -

Brian looked at him confused.

- You know Latin ?! -

-I only know a little, but in the time I was with the king he taught me a little Latin -

Brian felt stupid, how could he ever have noticed? It was quite obvious, Latin was the first language used in Rhye, besides the one they used, but gradually it was no longer used.

-Do you want to help me translate it? - Brian asked Roger hoping that with his help he could decipher it.

Roger accepted, he had nothing better to do.

In the queen's immense library, they found a dictionary that will help them know what it said. It was probably used by the queen to translate ancient Rhye texts and books.

After an hour, and with the help of Roger's knowledge, they managed to translate the first page of the book;

"October 12, 1671

That was strange to say the least. The author had a story similar of Atlas, perhaps they were from the same crew, but did not explain the magical creatures.

They continued reading and discovered very very interesting things.

Brian skipped some things to get to the interesting, like the pages where the author wrote about the magical creatures and know once and for all if they were a reality or a fantasy.

The book contains several drawings of different magical creatures; the text had descriptions of physical characteristics and abilities, all with comments from the book's author. It was evident that the author felt a deep hatred with these creatures and how they ruined "his perfect kingdom".

Brian could not trust these texts very much, most likely those descriptions were influenced by the hatred of the author. He would never know how true they were. Perhaps you would look for a book by an author with a more objective point of view.

Roger had been gone for a while but Brian was continuing his investigation. During all that time Brian believed less that this book was about Rhye but when he reached the end of the book he found a sheet folded in four.

It was a map. A map of Rhye.

Looking closely at the sheet Brian couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was completely impossible. He checked it very carefully to make sure what he saw was true.

It had the same shape of the island (with slight variations), it had marked the mountains of the west, the seven seas of Rhye, and the rivers. The only thing that was not marked was Nevermore, but it wasn't because they probably still didn't know the danger of that forest.

The author of the book had come to Rhye.

#The March of the Black Queen #my fic #freddie mercury #john deacon #roger taylor #brian may #magic au

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theshatteredrose · 4 years ago

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Relic Keepers: Awakening of the Red Lily (Chapter 1) - Original Fiction

Title: Relic Keepers: Awakening of the Red Lily

Summary: A 1000 years after an apocalyptic event called the Bombardment, humanity have learnt how to harness the power of mana. Silverleaf Military Academy is a learning centre for Indigo Children, those who have the ability to use Mana. And they are divided into two classes; the Elites, who’s skills make them superior on the battlefield. And Passives, who’s skills do not belong outside of the Academy. Supposedly. Eishirou is classed as a Passive. He is also a Chronicler. Gathering lost information, finding relics, learning about the far-flung distant past is what he does. And he enjoys it. However, his life changes when he gets called out to his first expedition in the field with his new roommate, Zayne – a powerfully protective Elite!

Genres: Young adult, suspense, action, adventure, treasure hunt, scifi fantasy, romance, slow burn romance, gay romance

Notes: Ok, here it is. M y first attempt at an original novel! A little nervous to be honest, but I’ll try my best to be entertaining! I’ll also try my best to keep the chapters under 3k for easier reading. But, you know, things happen. Now, this will be a very long project and I will attempt to maintain weekly updates. I do hope you'll give this story a chance. And I hope you'll enjoy reading~

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FictionPress

Chapter 1:

Eishirou huffed a tired sigh to remove an annoying strand of brown hair from his eyes. His eyes, normally a honey brown, were no doubt darken and possibly even bloodshot from staring at a bright computer screen for a few long hours.

He enjoyed his role as a Researcher and Chronicler. But staring at data for hours on end certainly got boring really quickly.

“Eishirou? You’re still here?”

Looking up from his work screen, Eishirou glanced over at his fellow Chronicler and friend.

Reddish brown hair and vivid emerald green eyes. Misaki. He was a good guy, friendly and considerate. Protective. He did have an intimidating glare of death, though. Guy knew how to scare the shit out of newbies, that was for sure. And some of the veterans, too.

“Yeah, but not for much longer, I hope,” Eishirou replied as he returned back to his work screen. “Someone was reported to have messed around with a few archives. I’m just making sure they didn’t actually mess with the data.”

Eishirou didn’t need to look over at Misaki to know that his usual friendly smile had turned into a deep frown. “Someone hacked the data? Do you know who?”

“Nope. Just that someone did.”

“I see,” Misaki murmured. “I will find out then.”

Eishirou wasn’t able to suppress an amused snort when he heard Misaki’s footsteps move away. He felt sorry for them, whoever they were. For a few seconds at least. Messing with the data was a bit no-no.

The information he was inspecting was basic, but needed to be preserved regardless. It was information he had seen all before. He knew it by heart, honestly. So, he would be able to get through it all quickly.

The prestigious Silverleaf Academy, a military university where students possessing mana-infused abilities came to train. It was located in Araluen, a Sanctuary City. Set in the middle of an island, surrounded by a large stone wall. And that was located ten miles from the shore of a vastly inhabitable continent. A continent that was reportedly to have once been as Australia. A place they now referred to as Main Land.

"Be sure to book now for the 1022nd Anniversary of the Bombardment!" the large plasma advertising board on the other side of the information centre robotically sounded, momentarily distracting Eishirou from his work.

Oh, was it that time of the year again?

The Bombardment was the name for an era in time, over a thousand years ago, where several asteroids impacted the earth within minutes of each other. Several large cities were wiped clean from the surface. Millions of lives where taken. Many more to follow in the apocalyptic aftermath. Life as those who knew it back then was irreversibly changed.

Of course, they didn't have the exact time or date when the Bombardment had occurred. Information from that era was largely lost and destroyed. And the information they had uncovered mostly contradicted itself. It was difficult to tell between all the fake propaganda and the truth. Not to mention that ruins seemed to date back further than a thousand years. Ancient. No mentioning of them in any form of text or data.

The common consensus was that the Bombardment happened over a thousand years ago. And had brought modern civilisation to its knees.

It also brought the use and discovery of mana.

The scientific community all agreed on one thing; if humanity had not discovered mana and found a way to harness it, then humanity would have been destroyed, too.

By using mana and infusing it within their inventions, they were able to rebuild society. Restructured cities. Learn how to live off the land. Learning how to harness mana within the human body.

The mana itself was largely a mystery. It was a source of energy. Mostly invisible until it was condensed and concentrated, which would then be presented in a glowing light.

However, the scientific community was divided in regards to where said mana came from. The asteroids? Or were rich mana deposits hidden within the Earth the entire time and it took a cataclysmic impact to reveal them?

There were a lot of…discussions about that topic. And certain scientists would often times get violent and confrontational.

Eishirou didn’t have a preference either way. Far as he knew, both scenarios were likely. And did it really make that much of a difference where Mana came from a thousand years ago? It wasn’t going to affect your average Joe’s way of life.

Those born after the Bombardment were often referred as Indigo Children. They were born with the innate ability to use Mana. And they fell into two categories; Elites and Passives.

Some form of discrimination was still rife amongst the Indigo Children. Elites verses and Passives. Elites are those born with battling abilities. Creating swords or other miscellaneous weapons out of mana. They were the ones who fight against the creatures known simply as ShadowDwellers.

ShadowDwellers were, simply put, abominations. Deformed creatures that also possessed the ability to use Mana. Again, the scientific community was divided with where they came from. Again, the asteroids? Or deep within the Earth itself? Some even believed that they were once humans themselves, mutated by mana in some way.

Silverleaf Academy had several Elite Squadrons that ensured the safety of students and residents alike.

Eishirou was a Passive Indigo Child. He didn’t fight in battles. Though, he could enter the battlefield if necessary. Only as a Medic, however. He possessed no fighting skills whatsoever. What skills he did possess was useful for research and archaeology.

He was a bit of an oddity, if one went by the Academy Hierarchy. He was a Chronicler, someone who dealt with gathering information and ensuring its safety for future generations. So, many Elites would refer to them as Paper-Pushers.

But he was also a Medic. And according to the Hierarchy, he was off-limits. No harm was to come to medics, no matter what. Anyone who dared to harm a medic deserved severe punishment.

So, Eishirou was both a nobody and someone of immunity.

In short, the Academy Hierarchy was stupid.

Chroniclers and Information Gatherers were important, however. The ‘modern’ civilisations from a thousand years ago seemed to have believed that they were the pinnacle of evolution. And they possessed all the information that there was to be known.

And yet, many of the ruins that have been discovered date back potentially millions of years. Civilisations deep underground and within the seas. Places and locations that were believed to have been impossible during ‘modern’ civilisation.

Either they were completely arrogant. Or completely ignorant.

A mixture of both, perhaps.

Scientists of today refuse to make the same mistake. They wish to document everything, no matter how controversial or ‘wrong’ that information appeared to be. Fact over fiction. Truth over lies.

Well, the document seemed perfectly intact. Done! He was a free man.

A buzzing sound from his communicator, however, stopped him dead in his tracks. Typical.

With a drawn-out groan, Eishirou slumped back into his chair and picked up his communicator. He didn’t need to see who was ringing him to know who it was. “Prof, you’re slipping. I didn’t even get my butt out of the chair this time.”

The hologram scene of Professor Chryses chortled. “I’ll try harder next time.”

As long as he didn’t catch him in the shower again. If he did, Eishirou was just going to ignore it. No matter how many times he rang.

“Let me guess; you got an assignment?” Eishirou asked.

The middle-aged man on the other side of the communicator nodded. With his dark sun-burned skin and deep wrinkles around his eyes, he was your typical off-the-grid researcher. The best at the Academy, to be completely frank. And he was Eishirou’s mentor.

“That’s right. And you’re coming with me.”

That surprised Eishirou. The only field research experience he had was helping in the restoration of relics and runestones that Jacob and his fellow researchers had discovered. He hadn’t been away from the city before.

“Really? Where to? Are we heading for Main Land?”

Jacob shook his head. “No. A small but tropically dense island thirty miles from here. It should be a rather short assignment. A damaged stone tablet was discovered.”

Ah, that was why he wanted him to join him. That, and he was old enough to start gaining some field experience. “And you need my expertise?”

“Correct,” Jacob smiled. “See you in an hour. Elite Team 3 will be meeting us at the Hanger 12.”

“Elites?” Eishirou repeated in a surprised tone.

“ShadowDwellers had been reported in the area,” Jacob explained simply.

Ah, that explained a lot. Though, there seemed to be an increase in ShadowDweller sightings and occurrences lately. He briefly wondered why that was.

“Right, see you in a bit,” Eishirou returned before he ended the call.

Well, no point dawdling now.

Eishirou grabbed his shoulder bag from the floor of his work desk and stood up. The small door which encapsulated him at his desk slid open noiselessly, allowing him to step out onto the stairs.

“You’re heading out again?” a feminine voice practically whined at him.

He turned to look over at another Chronicler. Long purple hair, dark pink eyes, quite fragile in appearance. Lyvia. She worked full-time within the Communication centre. Her frail body prevented her from joining field missions.

“The ol’ slave driver wants me to join him on an assignment,” Eishirou explained. “A short one, he claims. But we all know what that means.”

Lyvia’s pout quickly transformed into a smile and she nodded. “I heard Elites. Which team?”

“Team 3.”

“Oh!” her expression brightened unexpectedly. “I heard they got a new member. Ernesta practically forced him to join.”

That sounded like something Ernesta would do. She was very mild-mannered, peaceful in some ways. But she was terrifying when angry. Oooh, boy, Eishirou never wanted to get on her bad side.

“You might get to meet him,” Lyvia continued before she gave a telling giggle. “He’s supposedly cute.”

Eishirou rolled his eyes. “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

He bid his fellow Chroniclers farewell as he turned and walked up the pathway toward the exit. He walked past the main Observation Deck and out through the automatic sliding doors. He noted that the Observation Deck was empty. Which was usually a good thing. Nothing untoward was occurring throughout the Academy and city. Whenever the Communicator Commander was there, it meant trouble was about to go down.

Eishirou hadn’t had the pleasure of being on duty when Professor Jalen, or Communications Commander, started barking orders. He was a Chronicler, but he dealt more with the field work. Often aiding Professor Chryses. He only ever used his Chronicler privileges when he needed some classified information. Or just information in general.

He had the ability to access any information at any given time. It was easier within the Communication Centre, but anywhere he could get access to the internet, he could get the information he wanted.

The buzzing of his communicator pulled Eishirou from his thoughts once more. When he pulled it out of his pocket, he half expected to see that it was the Jacob again. Instead he was surprised to see it was his dorm superintendent.

“Katsuto, what’s up?” Eishirou asked as the hologram of a man with a stern expression flickered into view.

“Just informing you that you have a new roommate,” Katsuto stated in his usual brisk and stern manner.

He stopped dead in his tracks. Wait, roommate?

“What roommate?” Eishirou immediately asked. “No one said anything about me getting a roommate!”

Katsuto barely even blinked at his response. “You do now. He’s waiting for you. Play nice.”

“W-wait a minute-!” Eishirou spluttered. But it was useless. Katsuto finished the call on his end and Eishirou was left staring at the screen of his communicator.

He sighed loudly as his shoulders slumped forward in defeat. Asshole. Could have at least warned him a few days in advance. He knew he was to get a new roommate one day, after his old roommate had unfortunately taken ill and had to move to a dorm closer to the medical wing.

But that was beside the point. A bit of common courtesy from Katsuto wouldn’t have gone astray! And he didn’t even mention the guy’s name!

Ugh…

He uttered another sigh and kept walking. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. He had an assignment to skip off to, anyway. He couldn’t play host for very long. Even so, he hoped the guy was easy to get along with.

After a few minutes of walking, he finally reached the door to his room. He took a minute to gather his composure before he used his key card to open the door. And he stepped inside.

His gaze immediately flickered over to the bed located on the left side of the room. And yup, there was someone there.

He appeared to have been going through his luggage. Tall guy, a couple of heads taller than Eishirou was. So…over six feet. With floppy dark blue hair. His eyes appeared purple. His skin was a light tan. Perhaps it was natural, or it meant that he had spent quite a lot of time outside.

No matter.

“Ah, you’re my new roommate,” Eishirou greeted, gaining the new guy’s attention.

The guy turned in his direction and gave him a thankfully friendly looking smile. “That’s me. You must be Eishirou.”

The door slid closed behind him as Eishirou moved into the room. “And that’s me.”

“The name’s Zayne.”

As Eishirou shook the other guy’s hand in greeting, he noted that he had an Elite emblem on his jacket. He had to fight the urge to do a double-take. Wait, an Elite? Why would an Elite be rooming with a Passive? Especially as Passive like him?

Although, he was…kinda cute, he had to admit. He had the body of an Elite; subtle muscles, sleek form, straight back, and oozing with confidence. Hoped he retained that friendliness after learning that Eishirou was a paper-pusher.

“Sorry, can’t stay long to chat,” Zayne suddenly stated with a wry grin. “First day here and I’m already on an assignment.”

“Doesn’t take long, unfortunately,” Eishirou returned with an empathetic tone. Before he, too, grinned. “I have one, too. Where you headed?”

“Hanger 12 for now.”

Wait…

“Ah, what Elite team, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Team 3,” Zayne answered quickly, completely unbothered that Eishirou knew he was an elite without asking.

So, he was the new guy on Elite Team 3? Eishirou wasn’t entirely sure what to feel about that. Some Elite’s don’t like the prospect of acting like bodyguards to Passives.

Well, one way to find out.

“Well…looks like you’re escorting me there,” Eishirou commented, earning himself a confused tilt of the head from Zayne. “I’m a Passive. And you’re going to be acting as a bodyguard for this assignment.”

#original fiction #original novel #original characters #writing #fiction #Relic Keepers #Relic Keepers Awakening of the Red Lily

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snazzyquantumphysics · 4 years ago

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An open letter to my parents

I remember that morning, the one where the sun was shining and the air was soft and the trees stood tall as their armor was stripped off by the changing seasons. Oh, is that not enough to jog your memory?

Well, how about this then? This was the day that you sobbed and clutched your breast when you found those texts from me. The ones which I sent under a protective shroud of midnight, hoping against all odds that it would be able to protect me. It didn't.

You looked at me with watering eyes and asked if I was a lesbian. I answered that I honestly didn't know, I said I was bi, and the hope I saw in your eyes when you realized that I still liked guys was enough to make me wish I had said yes.

You don't know this, but I heard the prayer you murmured under your breath before we got in the car that morning, and I knew.

You don't know this, but I ran into the arms of my bestfriend as soon as we arrived at those school doors, and I started to sob as well.

I broke up with my girlfriend later that month.

And you were sympathetic. And I hoped.

Then, I got a boyfriend,

I could tell that you thought this was the end, and I learned that any love I had for women was not welcomed in our house.

You didn't tell me, but you would cough when I mentioned how cute Zendaya was or how I'd want to marry Wonder Woman. I could tell.

I broke up with him over quarantine and I could tell that although my heart was not broken, yours was.

I cut my hair this quarantine. Locks of curls tumbled to the ground, and I smiled, it felt good, I felt free. I locked eyes with you in the mirror of that salon and I saw fear and dissatisfaction. I went to my next trim alone.

I got a shirt that said Make America Gay Again, and I laughed with glee when my rainbow socks completed the outfit. I tried to hide it, but you found it and in thinly veiled comments you told me that politics were best kept out of clothing. There's a reason why the books with gay characters I read have a spot in the back of my closet so you can't find them. I still have the shirt, but I'm too anxious to wear it now.

I bought a bi pride flag without you knowing. I used your Amazon account and put $10 under your pillow, which was more than it was worth anyways. You let me keep it and even helped me iron it, but you also changed your Amazon password and hung an old bible verse on my wall.

My ex-girlfriend got together with another girl from my school. We're all friends, and I shared how lonely I was since my breakup. How I wished I had someone. I didn't think my phrasing was odd, but you looked and me and said, don't worry, all the boys will be over you, you'll get a boyfriend, a boy will make it better. I didn't think that was very odd either, until you emphasized it and looked my dead in the eyes the entire time.

So, I'm not afraid to be myself, I'm just nervous, and you're not supporting, but you're not openly homophobic either. I wish there was a divide so I could be justified in my anger, but there isn't.

You don't know this, but I know that you ask my sisters if this is just a phase. It's been 4 years, so maybe. But still. You don't know this, but the words you throw around hurt me. And when I correct you, you laugh.

You wonder why I want to run away to Asia or Europe, or NYC or LA, but you never wonder what causes my daydreams. I hope this reaches you eventually, because fuck. I'm scared.

Your daughter

#open letter #gay #lgbtq #biseuxal #biphopia #homophobia

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lokikingofasgardslover713 · 5 years ago

Text

Viking Empire (AU)

Masterlist

My entry for Star’s Multi Fandom Follower Celebration

Prompt: Single Parent AU

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson X OFC

Warnings: Fluff, cursing

Summary: Falling pregnant with the child of famed second heir to the Odinson dynasty or what is more commonly known as the Viking Empire, Loki Laufeyson, it felt fair she keep it hidden. Hiding for five years, the OFC is faced with a meeting with Loki after the company is divided and he wants to meet with her in hopes or rekindling an old flame. How well does he take to the discovery of a child baring his likeness and the woman he hopped to rekindle love with?

A/N: This is a modern AU as well. I hope I did this justice, I’m not used to normal characters and felt out of my element, but I had fun with this. There is a lot to this AU, and I tried to highlight all I felt was need to know so there wasn’t a big dump of info. The idea behind this is Loki along with Thor are heirs to the Odinson fortune even after Loki branches off from the family business and becomes a very successful rock star that later returns after his mother passes and is stuck with taking care of Odin due to Thor's own career. She had been afraid to tell him of the little boy due to all the other fake claims to him being the father of illegitimate children.

Words: +2,700

————

It had been 6 months after their last meeting face to face, and a total of 8 since their last Skype. That made it possibly 9 total, for her to end up here, on her back in agony and cursing at whomever was listening.

An order from the doctor had her taking note the labor wasn’t going as planned, the chaos becoming more frantic around her, no, them.

“We have to do a c-section,” the doctor began as he touched her shoulder and began to sling around all medical jargon possible.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” she snapped drawing back to the conversation this child wasn’t ready to be born. Another sharp contraction cutting her short just like the doctor.

“It won't take long,” the doctor spoke as it all became a frantic need to get her into the OR.

Thankfully she was allowed awake and heard the little boys first cry. Looking over as a smaller than what they anticipated wailing baby was hurried to the incubator. Checking him over, from what she could see from her sprawled out position on the table, he truly appeared healthy.

“Hand him here,” she spoke hurriedly, mother’s instinct telling her, she was what the infant needed. It took a few moments, but the doctor himself told them to lay the crying baby to her skin for him to instantly quiet.

"Hey little guy," she soothed to the small bundle the nurse held next to her, even allowing her to move an arm to wrap the bundle as she was sewn up. "Looks like it's just us, but we will make it just fine," she breathed, kissing the little bundle that squeaked and cooed.

5 years later

She supposed, at times, she should have informed Loki, one of the heirs to the Odinson fortune, -god knew only how they came to be so wealthy-, that he had a son. But, there had been so many false claims to both he and his brother, Thor, being fathers to illegitimate children after the company was divided between them, she figured it was best to keep quiet.

Besides, the two of them were doing great on their own, she had a steady job at the law firm where she had met Loki. The Loki Laufeyson, business mogul and rock star, who had sought out legal help in assuring his father was taken care of after the older monarch began to fall ill.

She even had the small house they lived in paid for a few years before little Liam came along. Having grown accustomed to raising the little boy on her own and preferred it.

Taken to focusing on and raising the now 5-year-old that was settled next to her on the couch, fast asleep. Looking down at the ebony haired boy, she decided it was best to let him rest while she checked over emails from work before starting dinner.

A new email popped up the moment she opened the app on her phone. Her heart hammered hard in her chest when she realized it was from Loki's personal email account.

Nervously, for the first time in years she hesitated to open the email, something twisted her gut. This was the account he used to speak to her of matters that was just them. This wasn't from his assistant, but anxiously she pressed on it to open the document.

Evening love,

I understand that this may not reach you until the following day, but I was hoping to come by and see you that same day. I understand if you can't or frankly wouldn't want to, but I would love for you and I to have dinner together and catch up. It has finally calmed down enough for me to leave the company, and thankfully my brother has returned to take some of the stress.

Hope to hear from you soon,

Loki Laufeyson

Looking to the little boy asleep in her side, she swallowed hard. Loki did need to know, that was no question, but she didn't want to sound like some money-grubbing whore. Maybe have him come by before Liam was dropped off from school to judge how the business mogul took to the child that was an exact copy of him.

Pressing the reply icon, she sat out to transcribe an email before losing her nerve.

Evening Loki,

It is great to hear from you and I'm glad to hear that Thor has returned to help with the company. Yes, dinner sounds great. Could you stop by Barnes and Rogers law firm at 3?

Pressing the send button made her panic instantly. This could go one of two ways, good or bad, there couldn’t be an in-between. Her breath hitched as in seconds the reply to her email popped back up and she instantly opened it.

That is great to hear, and l look forward to dinner tomorrow evening.

See you soon,

Loki Laufeyson

Shit. What had she just done? They were fine just the two of them, but here she was jumping at the first chance to meet Liam’s father like a horny schoolgirl. Closing out of the app, she tried to calm herself, rationalize.

If Loki didn't want to acknowledge Liam at all, then so be it. It would speak to his character as a man not hers as a mother. She had endured numerous questioning of who the father was, the talk of her being a whore behind her back by family and had gotten support from friends who loved her.

She could do this, even if she felt like panicking.

Sitting at her desk, it was one p.m.. A pling coming across the computer alerted her to an email had her waking the screen up to find it was Loki. Opening it without hesitation, it was now or never.

Love,

I'm running behind, it may slighly closer to three thirty, is this a problem? If so I will gladly reschedule so we can still see each other tonight.

Loki Laufeyson

Ok, she was shocked at how it sounded as if he was dying to see her. It was still his personal email, so that meant this was him and not a secretary. Clicking the reply she composed her own email.

Loki,

3:30 is fine, my cell number is 123-456-7891. Don't hesitate to text or call if you need to.

Tapping send, it dawned on her that Liam would be here at that point. Heat flooded her cheeks as she looked out to the reception desk and her friend poked his head in.

"You aright? You look sick," Bucky chuckled, he was the owners son, having taken over the law firm after his father’s death. They handled big accounts such as Stark and T’Challa, but that didn't stop them from being down to earth and caring for one another.

"I'm fine," she faked, they had worked together enough to know she was lying, and he was the first to put together she was pregnant. Not to mention she was 100 percent sure Bucky knew that Loki was Liam’s father.

"Nope, you're not," he spoke stepping into the room to shut her door to speak privately. "Come on doll, tell me what’s going on. Youve been jumpy all morning."

"I have not been jumpy," she retorted, sitting back in her seat to cross her arms over her chest to stick her tongue out at him. "It's Liam’s father."

"He contact you?"

"Yeah, he wants to have dinner this evening. I guess we will find out how he feels about Liam," she smiled nervously as Bucky took a seat in front of her desk to lounge back.

"Well, however it goes, you know we got your back," he smiled reassuringly.

She had no way of telling Bucky how that put her at ease. Bucky meant it when he told her that, the entire firm got involved when it came to Liam, they helped with childcare, arrangements if she couldn't break away from court and all that. Not to mention all they did right after birth to make her life easier.

"Good to know Buck," she smiled, she didn't want to think of how far south this could go if Loki went off the deep end and began to make demands of she and Liam.

A little after three, Liam came running into the law firm fresh off the bus, the young black-haired boy getting everyone involved in his usual late evening excitement. Natasha was sure to hurry out and give him a hug and snack she kept for him; the red head loved the little boy like her own. It had been hard on she and Bucky when they found out she couldn’t bare children, but this worked out in Liam's favor. They got the kid whatever he asked for.

Finally running into his moms office, he hurried to show his treat before going to his miniature desk and chair Steve had bought for Liam when he was born. She couldn’t help but smile over at him, watching as he pulled a book out to look it over as the door chimed that someone had entered.

It was still only ten after three and it would be awhile before Loki showed. Getting to her feet she smoothed out the pants suit to great the visitor only to pause in the doorway. The common phrase stick in her throat as she met the man's emerald gaze.

“Good evening,” she finally choked out to Loki with a smile as he made several large strides to stand before her.

He looked great, hot, in the black on black suit and tie, his hair longer but styled nicely. This was in no way the man she knew used to dress in leather, this wasn't the rocker she dealt with. He had changed, but it wasn’t a bad look.

Noting him look to her side, he had opened his mouth to speak only to pause as his gaze fell on the black haired, green eyed boy that stared back at him.

“Um. Good evening," Loki finally croaked, coming out of his stupor as she looked down to Liam then back to Loki.

"This is Liam," she finally croaked herself. "Please don't make a scene," she pleaded quietly so only Loki heard, she seen the anger in his eyes flash, but it had calmed as he looked over the tall 5-year-old who turned to step back to his little desk and finish his snack.

"I'm not. I came here to ask-. To see if you would agree to-. Dinner, how do the two of you feel about dinner at the Lotus? I arranged for a private room, there is enough seating," he garbled together quickly but elegantly. If Liam was truly his child, which there was no doubt he was, then Loki in no way wanted to be an absent father one like his own step-father Odin.

Giving a careful nod and smile, she agreed with Loki. "Dinner sounds great, let me shut everything down and we will leave."

"Excellent, I have a car waiting a block away, so we want be bothered," he admitted, knowing how she felt about all the attention, and now he himself didn't want it all over the news of his son and the mother of his child.

The evening was quiet, it surprised her Loki spoke to Liam, asking him questions about school and what he liked. It thrilled the boy someone was interested in his comic books, chattering away through the meal for him to only quiet when dessert arrived in the form of chocolate cake.

A careful caress over her knuckles had her turning attention from Liam, who was all but wearing the cake, to Loki who was continuing his ministrations on her hand. Meeting his gaze, she seen care, it appeared he was enthralled with her raising the boy on her own.

"Why didn't you ever tell me love," he asked quietly, caressing her knuckles still as he held her gaze, though it flicked to Liam then back to Loki.

"It wasn't the time; you had just inherited the company along with Thor. It was a lot for all of us to take in honestly. I composed several emails and deleted them. I didn't want you to think I was helpless that I was trying to take anything form you, especially as you were getting your life back in order. I-."

"It's fine love. It's fine," he cut her off kindly, a stark difference from the man she first met. It appeared he was doing well. "We will talk more tonight, if you would like."

"I would. You are welcome in our home anytime," she smiled as Liam finished the cake and began to chatter away once more to Loki who gave a kind smile and pulled away from her.

“When was he born,” Loki asked the moment she returned from putting Liam to bed after his bath.

“July 8th,” she spoke, giving a smile as she picked up his Ironman backpack to riffle through it before placing it on the hook next to the front door with the coats. Turning to note the look of understanding on the man's face as he lounged on her couch.

"He does well in school?"

"He does. Top of his class actually, loves to read like his father," she smiled as she stepped close to the couch to take a seat, meeting Loki's gaze as he sat forward, giving her all of his attention.

“Look,” she huffed, knowing it was best to get it out in the open. “I don’t need any help; we’ve done just fine on our own. You have no obligation to Liam or me for that fact.”

A sour looked crossed the man's features as if what she said was foreign to him. Shaking his head he ventured to scoot closer, he had come here to actually attempt to rekindle with her, but now it appeared he had an added bonus.

“Did I say anything that would make you think I would just toss the two of you to the side?” Loki seemed to snap; it wasn't aimed at her. Damn she was bold, no wonder he was and still is taken with her. “I want to-. I don’t want to abandon either of you. You know the hell I suffered, why would I intentionally do that to my own son, and the mother to my son.”

Taken back by his sudden admittance, she paused and looked the man over. That wasn’t what she expected, it was more along the lines of thanks for accompanying me to dinner, but this just isn't going to work; or possibly demand proof he was the father and maybe go to the extreme of taking Liam.

Though she had a feeling he was far from it as he scooted so their knees touched. Not moving as he reached out a hand to take her own in his tenderly.

“Then don’t," she spoke, surprised she wasn't pushing him away, but this felt so much like the Loki she knew, she didn't want him to stop.

"I'm sorry love," he breathed, leaning in close, freehand caressing across her cheek, one he couldn't help but relish in the familiarity of. The many times he had taken her to bed summed up into one gesture.

"It's life Loki, it's the hand we were dealt. But we have a chance to make it right," she smiled, hand trailing down her side to push the elastic of the lounge pants to caress over the scarred flesh of her lower abdomen.

Loki pushed back from her, making her realize she hadn't told Loki how Liam was born. Surprised when he gingerly pushed the elastic to look at the pink scar running hip to hip across the plump flesh. Looking up to meet her gaze, she seen worry in his eyes, he knew this couldn't have been easy for her.

"I'm fine, he was just born early due to gestational diabetes. They kind of took him a little too early but he was born perfect," she smiled feeling his finger trace the scar before he moved to wrap her face and pull her lips to his.

"Thank god," he whispered across her lips, pressing his to hers feverishly.

"Let's make this work, the two of you by my side love," he breathed as the kiss broke and he gathered her into his lap. "We will take it slow. Keep it private."

"That sounds perfect," she hummed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling tight as he returned the hug.

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