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creativeashproductions · 4 years ago

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Elysium // Luke Patterson

Summary: The boys of Julie and the Phantoms need a hail Mary to dethrone Downslide from opening for Panic! At the Disco. While Willie is done to help his blue eyed crush and his friends there’s one issue: Willie can’t drive the bus. Moving a bench is one thing but driving an entire tour bus? There’s only one person who can and Willie’s not sure where she is after year of no communication

Warnings: Swearing, angst, talk of death (it’s a ghost show, why is this a warning??), mention of assault, violence, and fluff.

Words: 11.5k

A/N: This is why I haven’t posted much in the last week. I’ve been writing this massive fic that I refused to turn into a series. My god, 11k words. I don’t think I’ll be doing this again. Enjoy and comment if you figured out who Rudy is!

Masterlist

There wasn’t much in the afterlife that you enjoyed after time spent in the limbo between the living and dead. Listening to songs before they were released lost its appeal just as much as dancing on stage with the ballet companies around the world, of being an unseen extra in shows and films being filmed.

Then you found a purpose a couple, well it could be more than a couple, years ago when you found a lost soul. William Young, Willie to his friends, had been sitting on the curb staring at the pavement entirely still as he had for two days.

The time from the last breath you took to walking the streets of Los Angeles was a blur in all honesty. The years bled together as you stayed stationary in a world that kept on spinning and changing, growing up. You had watched your friends hit new milestones you could only daydream about. Friends that graduated college and built new lives on the ashes of memories that included you.

Today’s walk was an attempt to escape your friends’ greying versions standing in front of a once vibrant sculpture. It happened every single year, but this one hurt the most. Listening to your friends recall stories of all the adventures you did together.

From being drunken idiots jumping off cliffs into that one lake the summer of freshman year. Or making a bonfire on the school’s roof with all the entryways blocked, rather stupid with the exits being blocked as well. Sneaking into concerts and stealing that one car that came close to sending you to boarding school.

The rebellion that still lived in you had mellowed in the five individuals with the adult responsibilities of family and work. Martha had removed all piercings but her lobes while Chase quit dying his hair colour. Jordan now had three children and a bought house.

Seeing the group no longer young had made your feet swiftly move from the memorial for a walk. The only thing that stopped you in your tracks was tripping over something in front of you.

“Ouch.” You hissed rolling onto your back with a moan of pain that faded with the sniffles.

Curled into his knees, sitting on the curb was a teenage boy about your age. Long hair curtaining his profile you found your eyes grasping the cracked helmet that spoke for itself abandoned by his side.

“Your kinda a hazard there.” You simply spoke sitting down next to the distraught teenager, “Heads up, I suck at comforting people.”

At his silence, you spoke once more, “I’m digging the tie-dye. Did you do it yourself?”

“This is some kind of stupid coma dream right?” The boy’s voice was husky from crying and disuse, “I’m probably in some kind of hospital with a tube down my throat.”

“I’d say yes, but it would be a blatant lie.” You spoke twirling a loose thread on your jeans while the stranger gazed at a spot on the street.

His dark brown eyes bloodshot as he remembered the car honking mere seconds before he heard the sound of a thud. He recalled struggling to breathe with his broken ribs and his screams being illustrated with bloodstains.

He remembered thinking how he had just bought that board a week ago with his allowance.

“Am I really dead?”

“Yes. We’re are a couple ghosts in a lively city.” You informed him with one handheld in the space between your ethereal forms. The teen hesitantly placed his hand in yours with a firm shake.

“William but call me Willie.” He softly told you, catching sight of the patch on your jean jacket—one of many from both when your grandma owned it and then when you did.

“I’m Y/N. Let’s blow this disappointment. I’m gonna teach you everything you need to know.” Brushing off the invisible dust on your jeans, you held your hand out to him, “We’re about to make the afterlife our bitch.”

A stark contrast to his former hesitance he immediately grasped your hand to tug himself off the curb. The forlorn skater didn’t question the board in your hand or how he could possibly even touch his own board. He didn’t wonder how it wasn’t in pieces like it had been when he first got hit.

That rebellion that ended your life flared again in the presence of your best friend with crashing Justin Bieber’s house. Of rearranging items in classrooms to freak teachers out and sitting in the cars turning the radio on and off. Haunting the living until the friendship fractured under the influence of a powerful ghost.

Caleb Covington had bewitched the skater with promises and extravagant gifts until Willie had taken the offer.

“He’s not like you said he was! I think you should give him a chance!” Willie cried following you around the place you had taken to be home.

“Willie he’s a bad guy! He butters you up until you give him what you want! That’s when you see his true colours. All he wants is your soul to power his magic and spread his reach!”

“I got to talk to my sister!”

“Your sister is five years old! It’s not Covington that gave you the opportunity. She won’t remember the experience as anything other than an invisible friend!”

“There are so many people at the Club that we can talk to. Aren’t you tired of the same routine and people we see?”

Willie’s pleading brought your full attention to the skater avoiding your gaze, “William Young…you took his offer.”

Willie tore his gaze from the art on the wall to find yours blatantly glaring at him with a bucket of random colour in your hand.

“The Club is going to France to tour around the country for a while. I’m dead, so I might as well make the best of it. Besides who gets to skate through the Louvre!” Willie beamed, watching as a small smile, found its way on your face at his excitement, “I’m sure Caleb would let you come to the Club tonight!”

“Willie, you are my best friend, but I’ve already seen the Club. It’s not my style, and I want nothing to do with it.”

That interaction was one of the very few speckled through the years when Caleb discovered who you were. No matter his offers, you never took the deal and when he saw how close you and Willie where he kept the skater busy. The Club didn’t appear in Los Angeles for a long time until Willie’s distance seemed too great to bridge.

“So, you need a way for the slot to be empty?” Willie asked the trio of ghosts all spread around the area.

Unfortunately for Luke, the only person they could get help from was from the very guy that placed them in a predicament. While Alex was the one spearheading the conversation with the long-haired skater Luke was glowering in his direction.

“The Orpheum was the thing we never got to do. We spent hours practising and performing with one goal-“

“Play the Orpheum and get distance from our parents. Well, at the time that streetdog and becoming legendary was my main focus.” Reggie recounted the feeling of suffocating in a house filled with fighting. A home he wished still stood, now dead all he wanted was to see his parents.

“We almost did it too.” Luke pouted relaxing his glare at the skater who openly sent apologetic gazes at Alex’s bandmates.

“So, we need to get rid of the opening band.” Willie nodded to himself, thinking about ways before he caught sight of the abject horror on the band. The skater’s eyebrows raised, “I know I deeply fractured the trust, but I’m not suggesting murder.”

“Okay. Good.” Reggie whistled relaxing his tense posture while Luke grumbled under his breath an insult that in turn got Alex’s arm into the guitarist’s ribs.

“Your best bet would be getting the bus out of LA. The band will probably celebrate the upcoming gig.”

“Could you make the bus disappear?” Alex hesitantly questioned shifting in his now vintage sneakers. The blonde-haired drummer flushed slightly under the endearing smile from the skater. The feelings create a confliction within Alex under Willie’s issue, leading them straight into a madman’s hands.

“I can move a bench, turn sirens on, but a bus is outside my paygrade.” Willie openly admitted showing his hands deep in his pockets, “The only person other than Caleb that has enough power-“

“-is he just as evil?” Luke demanded crossing his arms to glare at the male that had unfortunately caught the interest of Alex.

However, Luke couldn’t blame Alex for falling for this guy because well, Luke saw the teenage ghost’s appeal. Willie was attractive, but he wasn’t the type of person Luke would fall for. Plus he had initially made Alex incredibly happy, and Luke would never blame Alex for that.

“She is as different from Caleb as one can be. She uh…she taught me everything about being a ghost. Actually, found me where I died.” Willie cleared his throat as the guilt and sadness reared its head from deep within him. The guilt of leaving his little sister to grow up without him and the sorrow of not growing up with the girl.

It wasn’t often Willie allowed himself to remember the little girl, barely five when he died, who was always dancing. His little sister adored the colour purple and anything shiny and more than once Willie had let her dress him up. Willie’s greatest regret is that he’d never have that interaction with her. God, she’d be around his age now and in high school.

“Okay, so where is she?” Reggie clapped his hands, bringing the skater out of his thoughts and back into the present.

Luke saw the hesitation in Willie, “There’s a catch, isn’t there?”

“Kinda?” Willie trailed off bouncing on the balls of his feet, “I haven’t seen her in years now. Last time I saw her we fought about the whole joining Caleb thing? I’m not even sure if she’s still in LA.”

“Of fucking course,” Luke grunted shoving both hands in his hair taking a few steps away from the other ghosts.

First, he dies, then he gets caught up in some bullshit revenge plot, then makes a deal with the devil without realizing it, and now their one chance is going up in flames. Luke Patterson was livid with the universe and the shitty hand he had been dealt, but at least he had his friends with him.

“It can’t hurt to look for her?” Reggie innocently offered with a shake of his shoulders, “It’s not like we have any other option.”

“Did we ever even have options?” Luke hissed, causing Willie and Alex each to flinch with the different guilt they carried.

Alex was guilty of going to Willie for help when getting back at Bobby was the biggest thing. Willie was guilty of ignoring his instincts on keeping Alex as far from Caleb as he could be he just wanted to impress the drummer. It’s not like Willie had many options for dating, and well, Alex was the first to get his entire focus.

“Dude. Stop. No one saw it coming.” Reggie bumped his hip against the annoyed guitarist, “Let’s find this ghost and get our shot at playing.”

The quartet of dead guys didn’t have high hopes of finding the girl in question, but it seemed the universe took pity on Luke Patterson. Just two hours into their search on the edges of the city limits an individual was walking.

The person’s stature leaned against a smashed concrete wall of the skeleton of where a building once was. The only thing the group could make out was a faded jean jacket with splotches of colour. Her ankles crossed as her back leaned against the cement, oozed laid back confidence. Coming closer, Luke noticed the sunglasses perched on top of her head and the lips painted dark.

“What do you need Willie? I heard you were looking for me.” The husky voice drew Luke in the most. The lead guitarist of Julie and the Phantoms enamoured with the girl.

“How’d-“Willie’s question was cut off as you simply tapped your right index finger against your temple.

“How do you think you managed to get here?” You inquired pushing off the cement to stride over to the group. To Willie’s surprise, he was tugged into your embrace before swiftly pushed away, “Come on. We should head in before someone catches us.”

In the dark as much as the other three ghosts, Willie dutifully followed you past the pieces of cement littered around the area. Gasps of surprise sounded as the once empty space became filled with buildings. It was not as extravagant as the hotel the Club worked out of, but it was hidden from the living and dead eyes.

“Where did this come from?” Reggie gasped astounded by the people once hidden from his view, moving around the area.

“This is Elysium. Don’t judge the name I lost the right in a poker game with Susie and Rudy. I’m Y/N.” You informed the group leading them to the gate where two people stood stoically guarding it, “Rudy was hellbent on calling it Valhalla.”

“This is Luke, Reggie and Alex.” Willie gestured to the awed trio of musicians only lingering on the blonde. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see the attraction between the skater and the blonde; finding a date in the afterlife was a lot harder than the living.

Nodding a greeting to the two ghosts, you lead the group to a building painted a pretty turquoise blue colour. The sign above the double doors a stark white with calligraphy writing simply stating Elysium Management. It was a building set up like an administrative office of three stories, and you led the group right up to the top floor.

“Just a heads up…Rudy is a little suspicious of people.” You admitted standing outside a door with a nameplate the only descriptor, “He’ll come off a little gruff and rude, but when you get passed that he doesn’t shut up.”

“I can hear you through the door dumbass.” The words were called out from the office door opening.

The man standing in the entry wore a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His honey-brown eyes lit up with a teasing look before it shuttered at the sight of four strangers behind you. Rudy had valid reasons to not fully trust people after the shitshow in his hometown when he was alive.

“And you’ve brought strangers.” Rudy deadpanned with a sigh concluding his sentence as he stepped back into the office. It appeared like the world repositioned itself on the young man’s shoulders once more.

“I should be done within the hour. We can go over everything.” You informed your business partner and friend. Receiving only a nod from Rudy, you closed the door to his office, cutting off the view from your guests.

“He’s..uh.”

“Standoffish? Rudy keeps his past to himself, all he’s ever revealed is that he’s from a town a few hours away.” You spoke, opening the door to your own office decorated differently from Rudy’s more sterile black and white aesthetic.

Your office had splashes of colour with vintage posters of both music and film framed on the walls—a plush couch in the corner with a basket of blankets next to it. Instead of sitting behind the dark desk, you chose the couch instead. As you settled in the corner, you flicked one finger bringing an extra seat over.

The motion shocking the three boys accompanying Willie who had seen the abilities himself.

“Okay so why did you want to search for me?” You questioned the skater leaning back in the seat.

“When did this all happen?” Willie countered gesturing to the office in a building settled in the middle of a ghost town. A literal ghost town.

“There’s an empty lot in LA that used to house an abandoned apartment building that Rudy and I both called home. Of course, it was torn down, and we kinda knew that there’s wasn’t a place that didn’t have the threat of being annihilated at some point.” The memories of those unknown days trickled into your mind among the more positive ones, “We wanted a home. A place to call our own.”

“A week or so later a skittish pixie of a brunette crashed into us full speed. Susie had a certain ability that Caleb desired to have under his thumb. There are so many ghosts he had manipulated into selling him their soul. Rudy and I both wanted to stop Caleb from having that chance for everyone.” You continued, “Can I show you?”

The moon shone through the light clouds as a duo wandered LA’s streets in different mental states. The only home you had known had been unceremoniously ripped down with no future plans in place. Your entire life had been in that apartment in a building you had once thought only you inhabited. You had been unaware that on a separate floor, Rudy had been dwelling.

The two teens in starkly different clothing grew close with each other through the whole being the dead thing they shared. The mission was to find another place too, use but the feeling of home being ripped away tore at their hearts. The apartment was a place Caleb Covington hadn’t been aware of.

Your thoughts threatened to turn darker as a force knocked you onto your bac—aA short brunette groaning in pain to the left of you. The girl was Gwen, who would become very important to both Rudy and you.

I’ve always been a little different than most people. I can move things short distances, but I developed a specific talent. I can get inside people’s minds to plant, remove or alter memories or simply talk and read their thoughts.

The sound of your voice in their heads freaked them out more than they would like to admit. The intrusive tickle of something in their brains unsettling as you made a more present entry so they could feel it.

“What?”

“This is why I can’t be anywhere near Caleb. The whole reason he gives people stamps and takes their souls is because of me.” You fully admitted clasping your fingers in your lap, “He couldn’t cope with the fear of another ghost leaving so added a stipulation to joining his Club.”

“How did you come to create Elysium?” Alex inquired leaning forward in his seat to rest his elbows on his knees. Luke and Reggie followed his posture as the anticipation built.

“Everyone deserves a safe place. A place as far away from Caleb as possible and we do so for free. No fee is required, and ghosts are free to come and go as they please. They are welcome as long as their unfinished business keeps them in this plane.”

It sounded like a sweet deal to the group of teens, but they had other commitments, “You can tell us more, but we need your help.”

The pleading in the messy-haired brunette tore at your heartstrings like the one time Willie brought you to his house. It had been shortly before your friendship fractured, a few years ago. He had brought you to a suburb for low-income families and straight to the backyard where a twelve-year-old year danced.

The dead skater boy and the rebel sat in the patio chair on the tiny porch nestled in the postmark sized backyard. A quintet of pre-pubescent girls danced on the lawn to some bubblegum pop song. The Young girl was submissive to a more confident girl even when the venue was the Young girl’s home.

“The girl to the left is my little sister Kayla. She’s twelve now, it’s been seven years since I died.” Willie’s brown eyes saddened at the dancer who had a spark of maturity in her eyes, “I check in every once in a while. These are Kayla’s friends. The bossy girl is Carrie, and while the band is a group, she is the unofficial leader of the band Carrie’s Constellations.”

“She looks happy.”

“Kayla’s always been bubbly in personality, but she had questionable friends.” Willie outright admitted keeping his eyes pinned to the girl that had grown up in a blink of an eye. Her dark hair concealed by the gaudy purple wig; the colour assigned to the teenager.

“It’s nice that she still enjoys dance.” Willie finished reaching out to grab your hand in his and just like that Willie transitioned back into carefree, “I found this really cool skatepark I think you’d like.”

“We don’t have a lot of time.” Alex winced as the three musicians flinched as a sudden purple spark of colour lit up their midsections.

Like a tentacle, your mind reached into the quiet raven-haired boy with the leather jacket. Beyond the imagery of docile golden retrievers and steaming plates of food, you found the regret and fear in the boy. Stepping into a recent memory, you watched their experience at the Hollywood Ghost Club.

“You’ve met Caleb.” You sighed roughly pushing your index finger between your brows feeling the familiar ache.

“It was a stupid decision,” Luke spoke up, tearing his focus from the mysterious girl that ultimately had the power in her hands. The entire plan was weighing on the decision you would give, “Either we join his house band, or we don’t exist.”

“Hm.” You spoke as the kaleidoscope of colours in Luke’s eyes glittered under the sterile lights of the room. It was difficult to look away from the enthralling teenage ghost, but the emotion wafting off Willie was concerning.

“They died before they could perform at the Orpheum. We’re banking that getting the opening slot with giving them the push into crossing over.” The long-haired skater leaned closer, “I know we haven’t talked in a while, but I can’t do much.”

“So, you want to pull ’09 incident again?” You completely ignored the trio on the couch staring directly at the sheepish skater with raised eyebrows, “Only this time without the train?”

“Train?” Alex whispered, looking between the two long-time friends with interest and then next thing he knew Alex was in the backseat of a van crushed between Reggie and Luke equally confused.

Chicago, Illinois 2009

William Young and Y/N Y/L/N were complete hellions in the ghost world, creating havoc that fascinated the living population. The recent event being the highjacking of a van filled with drunk teenage boys. These boys had been the sole reason a young girl was recovering in a hospital with life-threatening injuries. The scene changed to a hospital room with Willie and Y/N watching a girl with massive bruising laid.

It had hit both Willie and Y/N hard catching the tail end of the new report, Willie thinking of how that could have been his sister. Even if Kayla was only five years old, having a sister set things more in perspective. For you it was a flashback to when you were alive and thus led you to the ICU room for the girl.

Slipping into her unconscious mind was easy but while the injured teen appeared peaceful to the hospital staff, she was anything but. The poor girl’s mind replayed the traumatic incident over and over like a movie; keeping in the shadows, you gently repainted the portrait with lighter and brighter images.

For Willie, he watched as you wavered on your ghostly feet and smoothed out the features of the girl. The heart monitor subtly changing as the injured girl relaxed, and suddenly your interference heightened her chances of survival.

“I got it.” You spoke to Willie with a heated glare on your features and when the ghostly musician trio blinked they were back in the van.

Your hands gripped the van’s steering wheel with Willie turned in the passenger seat to watch a group of living boys scream. To the living eyes in the van, no one was in the front seats but whispered words spoke into their minds.

You’re going to go straight to the police and tell them what you did. You’ll hand over the photographic evidence and demand the worst punishment. You’ll leave the girl alone, or we’ll come back to finish our job. You will pay for the hospital bills if the family agrees.

The boys trembled with the putrid scent of urine permeating the enclosed vehicle. The distant sound of a train echoed in the distance as the van stopped on the tracks. No matter how much the living boys moved the doors refused to open, and the windows remained unbreakable.

“WE promise!” The ringleader cried, slamming his shoulder against the door with the train’s bright lights illuminating the van.

“Let us go!” The other screamed, slamming his bruising hands on the window.

Alex was flinching at each slam of fists on the glass, leaving smears of blood. Knuckles broke from the window. At the very last second, your foot slammed the gas pedal taking the van millimetres from the train screeching on the tracks.

You and Willie stared at the stationary train lit up from the van’s headlights with the rhythmic flashes of the red and blue police lights. The van’s seat arrangement was different with the ringleader in the driver’s seat.

The three ghost musicians standing unseen behind the duo but in the real world out of the dreamlike memory you knew.

Elysium, Present Day

“Holy fucking shit.” Alex cussed out of breath, leaning back on the couch with shaking limbs and fear in his bloodless veins.

Luke’s eyes blinked owlishly at the boy that he had once thought could never do something as terrifying and torturous. He was afraid to even ask the outcome of the life-threatening incident you did on the assailants.

“That is the reason for the train.” You barely glanced at the shaken trio to stare at who had once been your partner in crime, “Willie, I have responsibilities here. We just opened a new division for the children we house here.”

“It would take a few hours.” Willie pleaded, positioning his hands into a pleading position turning on his charm. The puppy eyes you had always struggled to say no to as if you weren’t the type of person easily capable of staying strong.

“We’ll do anything.” Luke pleaded just as much recalling the countless times he had charmed himself out of situations, “Please help us.”

“I’ll have to make arrangements with Rudy and Susie, but I might be able to pull some strings. I’m really sorry Willie, but I’m gonna need to erase your knowledge of this place. There are too many people depending on this setup.”

Outside the Orpheum

Outside the legendary venue, three out of four band members for Julie and the Phantoms walked up to the marquee. Hopefully, the letters for Downslide would be changed into their band name just under the main act. Everything was riding on Willie and Y/N’s capabilities. Trusting the skater was challenging to do and more so someone they didn’t fully know.

“Look, don’t worry, guys. Willie said he’d get us on that marquee.” Alex soothed his friends on each side of him. All three wearing concerned expressions at the place that hopefully was their last stop before crossing over.

“This is gonna work, right?” Reggie questioned with his hand confidently sliding into the pockets of his black jeans. The relaxed posture a juxtaposition to the anxiety and nerves on his flushed face.

“It has to.” Luke’s lips pursed into a pout with his words tinged with a dialect different from his best friends. The faint souvenir from the place he spent a few years growing up before moving to LA.

Luke’s words were highlighted by the groans of pain as that flash of purple courtesy of Caleb’s death stamp appeared. All three hunched over clutched their chests breathing through the pain; Luke was the first to unfurl his form.

“Whoa!” You gasped flashing underneath the marquee beside Willie. Rushing to give Luke support without even a second thought.

When the aftershock faded, the guitarist stood straight up with a thankful smile that boarded on adoration.

“Are you guys, okay?” Willie asked, keeping back with the swell of guilt that happened, seeing the familiar symptoms of post-shock. He had felt them a time or two in the time he had sold his soul to his unfortunate boss.

“Yeah, it’s nothing we haven’t felt before,” Alex replied, rubbing his hand over the baby blue shirt he had chosen today. His blue eyes doing their best to avoid looking into the puppy-like ones of the skater, “How’d it go?”

“Well, when that opening band wakes up, they’re gonna find their bus 200 miles outside of Vegas.” Willie proudly announcing turning on his heel to show off the Downslide jacket he took from the lead singer. His fist extending to bump yours instinctively before he did so with Luke.

“With no chance of getting back in time.” You snickered in response living on the adrenaline and nostalgia of the rebellion. With Elysium, you had turned around your life, “Meaning-“

“-there’s probably a promoter upstairs right about now freakin’ out.”

“Nah. This is Hollywood, man.” Willie scoffed with a wave of his hand matching the one you supplied, “I’m sure he’s being very professional.”

As Willie finished his sentence up in the promotor’s office out of earshot of the ghosts stood a very pissed adult. His finger-wagging his finger with teeth clenched, his flushed skin a juxtaposition to the cheery blue Hawaiian style shirt. Frank Wolfe couldn’t believe how stupid his once opening band was.

“What do you mean the bus drove itself into the middle of the desert?” Frank questioned progressively growing more and more frustrated. His assistant Tasha casting concerned looks to her typically collected boss, “BUSES DON’T DRIVE THEMSELVES!”

Tasha flinched at the sudden loud growl of the sentence but more so as Wolfe starting slamming the phone into the cradle. Her fingers halting on her keyboard, going over the list of frequent acts. Unfortunately, the five acts had other commitments causing Tasha to fear tonight. The blonde lady was worried Wolfe could have a breakdown once more.

While Willie snickered to his own words, your eyes, not your mind, could read that Alex wanted to talk to the skater. With only a teasing jab of your elbow in Willie’s ribs you shuffled around the drummer to join Reggie and Luke away from the ‘will they won’t they’ couple.

“So, can you do me a favour?” Luke hesitantly questioned you with his inquisitive eyes a greener colour in the sunlight. His attractive eyes took your full attention with a simple tilt of your head, “Julie’s family means a lot to us, and could you keep an eye on them?”

“And Carlos,” Reggie interjected rocking on his polished pleather boots he had spent ages on finding for his rocker aesthetic back in the ’90s.

“-Julie’s little brother.” Luke supplied at the confusion painted clearly on your pretty features. His green eyes scoured your face as he always did that flushed both his and your faces red.

“Yeah, of course, I can.” You firmly told the two dead boys each standing tense in front of you.

You could easily see the love they held for the living family that had come to mean so much in such a short amount of time. Since first meeting them you had always gotten the feeling that their living years weren’t the best. For Alex, it was living in the ’90s as a young gay teenager during a terrifying time for the LGBTQ+ community. Reggie flinched at the raised voices, and Luke had longingly stared after the happy families milling around the Elysium.

“Did you ever find out what your unfinished business was?” Reggie inquired fixing a strand of his dark hair that had fallen onto his blemish-free skin. Your smile faltered at his question; nonetheless, you answered.

“I did.” The two words carried a sense of pain with them. Your eyes unfocused recalling the euphoric feeling of seeing the breathtaking white light of the peace exuding from the beyond and the agony of denying crossing over.

“How-“

“Hey! Y/N!” Willie called out to the young denim wearing ghost with his beaming grin, “Don’t go stealing buses without me!”

Luke swore he could see your laughter in the air, just as endearing as the smoky quality your voice carried.

“Don’t go glitter bombing criminals.” You returned as your best friend dropped his board to skate off to wherever he was needed. It was bittersweet to reconnect with him knowing that it could be the last time.

When Caleb found out, not an if but a when Willie had a hand in helping his desired band it was high chance Willie would be gone. Caleb was all too powerful, and when he was betrayed, it never ended well.

“I need to get back to Elysium. Susie’s arrival is tonight. Good luck with tonight.” Your words were accompanied by a hug for each of the boys. The one with Luke lingering the most, “I wish you could play for the kids.”

“Yeah. Me too.” The brunette, messy-haired boy’s words carried a hidden desire simply to be in your space more. The teenage ghost helps those in limbo while wearing a jean jacket with patches from many decades. The jacket creating an unknown time you had lived.

“Goodbye, boys.” You told the trio before you poofed away from the busy streets of Hollywood where the band had come full circle in death.

“Are you guys, okay?” Reggie inquired his best friends, forgoing his casual personality for the layers underneath. His blue-green eyes filled with only concern.

Alex and Luke shared a lingering look, “Yeah. We’re okay.”

The dining hall was filled with long tables and chairs populated by the ghostly forms of everyone currently living at Elysium. It was reminiscent of a British book turned film series of youth with magic abilities. The series had been a favourite of a former resident.

“Incredible.” Susie breathed staring at the joyful people having a place to call home. Making the limbo between life and death more bearable.

“We’ve done well. You smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist, “It’s so nice to have you back.”

Elysium was so much more than you could ever hope for. It kept growing and growing with more ghosts. Since the founding of the haven, new developments continuously happened with one resident’s unique ability.

Harvey had joined the haven a year into the founding bringing the ability to gift the residents with the capacity to eat. During his life, Harvey had been a renowned chef and the dream to make food it carried into his death. As long as Harvey cooked the food with his volunteer staff ghosts were able to eat it.

“Harvey has outdone himself again,” Rudy announced his arrival at your side with his arms crossed, displaying his corded muscles. The constellation of moles on his face standing on his pale creamy skin.

“Rudy!” Susie squealed, throwing herself into his arms with the same glee that came each time. Susie and Rudy since their first meeting had a special bond as chosen siblings who bonded over heartache.

Rudy had died, leaving his best friend and his strawberry blonde girlfriend in the living world back in their dark hometown. It was just one tidbit he had revealed throughout your friendship. The only physical connection to his living friends was the three picture on his desk of a group of people.

The first picture had a lean version of Rudy with his arms thrown over a Hispanic boy with a crooked jaw and glimmering brown eyes. The Hispanic boy had his arm around a pretty brunette girl with deep dimples and wavy brown hair. The two boys wore a sports uniform of some kind holding lacrosse sticks.

The second picture had Rudy and the Hispanic teen again but with a beautiful petite strawberry blonde. Along with them was a brunette with blunt chin-length hair and hardened features besides a shorter blonde male with blue eyes.

The last picture was of Rudy with the same Hispanic boy wearing graduation caps and gowns with two beaming adults. The male adult wore a tan shirt adorned with a star on his left pec and dark brown pants. He had to be Rudy’s father with similar features. The woman was of Hispanic descent with laugh lines, and thick dark curly hair pulled into a half do; obviously the Hispanic teen’s mother.

The pain in Rudy’s face each time he saw the pictures closed off a desire to ask him about the people.

“Hello, Susie.” Rudy chuckled, wrapping his arms around her small stature, “How was Europe?”

“Why don’t you ask the five newcomers I found before Caleb?” Susie teased gesturing to the ragtag of new ghosts immersed in conversations.

“Family?”

“A boarding school had a fire. Those five were in the fire when it happened and the only victims out of seven that didn’t cross over.” Susie’s tone faded into a melancholy tone with her small arms wrapping around her middle. Faded brown eyes staring at the younger of the five seeing herself in them.

“That’s terrible.” You whispered, staring at the table with one finger picking the patch of a band from the ’70s, “I can’t imagine how scary that could have been.”

“Yeah.” Susie softly spoke, pushing a strand of her hair off her temple just as equally sad for the way that death had no qualms of how it took.

The youngest ghost in Elysium had been a three-year-old toddler who passed over quickly when he was found by the deceased mother. The two had been separated at death and luckily shared the same unfinished business of finding each other.

“Miss Reynold’s has twelve spirits that finished their business.” Rudy softly informed his two partners. Soft smiles formed on their faces at the happy news of Elysium’s goal being accomplished again.

“May they find everlasting peace and serenity.” Your words intertwined with Susie in perfect sync of the motto coined after the first crossover, “I suppose the Serenity will begin planning?”

“Have the Serenity ever not performed their duty?” Rudy raised one dark eyebrow with a rhetorical question. E/c and faded brown met recalling the countless times Elysium had hosted a celebration for those who found their unfinished business.

“That is-whoa.” You gasped stumbling at the scream echoing in your mind accessorized with the vintage sound of a band.

Calloused hands grasped your shaking form from collapsing onto the ground from a proverbial psionic shove. Agony slammed your brain flickering into an old fashioned club filled with people in both colour or black and white attire. You caught sight of baby pink, deep royal blue and bright red suits. The pained screams of a skater in a dark room overtaking the music in the Club.

“No.” You whispered clenching your hands on your head, feeling the dread building in the pit of your stomach.

The joyful voices in the hall muted while your body flickered with the deep instinct to leave the haven for the one place that utterly terrified you. It was the familiar touch of Susie and Rudy that kept you from finding the one person that meant the world. Willie’s soul was on the cutting board, and Caleb obsession with performing was the only reason Willie still existed.

“Willie.” You whimpered tears rolling down your flushed cheeks, feeling the panic in the skater’s mind.

“Susie help me.” Rudy stonily spoke ushering the distraught girl from the busy hall into an empty room.

Your shaking body finding purchase on the plush sofa with Susie holding one hand in hers and Rudy brushing the sweaty hair from your forehead. It wasn’t often your psionic abilities left you in such a state, but the distance proved difficult.

“Shit.” Rudy grumbled frowning, “This is bad. Y/N, we need to get you to Willie. You’re flickering, and the distance isn’t helping.”

“You want to take one of Elysium’s strongest ghosts straight into Caleb’s domain? You know how much he wants her in his Club.” Susie hissed to the co-founder of the haven they had to take extraordinary measures to protect, “It won’t work! You’re throwing her to the dogs!”

“Susanne I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t necessary. Besides, we always have a plan.” Rudy retorted narrowing his whiskey eyes at the younger girl, “I’ll take her to get Willie, but you need to stay here to make sure everything runs smooth.”

“Are you sure you can-“Susie cut herself off with a nod as Rudy displayed the reason he could do it, “Okay, yep, you can do it.”

Rudy came back into her vision in his signature position with one eyebrow raised, and his arms crossed. The reason why Elysium worked so well was Rudy’s ability to erase an object from the view of anyone. He could make himself invisible to anyone and in practice, developed it to hide items and location. With his ability, Elysium was permanently hidden to anyone outside of his power. Illusions were his unique ability.

“You aren’t the first person to doubt my capability.” Rudy informed the other ghost reaching one hand out. With his fingers caressing your temple, he snapped his fingers, transporting you and him away from Elysium.

The empty room of Elysium’s dining hall was exchanged for the business streets of Los Angeles, bringing an improvement in your body. Pushing away from Rudy, your eyes frantically scoured the unfamiliar area for any hint of Willie.

“He’s close.” You exclaimed closing your e/c eyes to focus solely on your sixth sense kicking in. Rudy’s gasp snapped your eyes open to see his eyes pinned on your feet where a glowing neon purple smoke wisped.

“What is that?” Rudy demanded crouching to touch it, but it was like nothing was there. His whiskey brown eyes meeting your confused gaze.

“I have no clue, but I feel like I have to follow it.” Robotically your feet started walking following the smoke through the streets.

Rudy was silent as you came upon a park swallowed by the darkness of the night with the moon barely showing through the clouds. The odd purple smoke the only offering of light so far from the path with street lights.

“Of course we have to go through a park.” Rudy grumbled, “Nothing good ever happens in wooded areas at night.”

Lifting your eyes from the smoke, you looked at a deeply unsettled Rudy lost in the past only he knew. His mind recalling traipsing through the forest with his asthmatic best friend in the middle of the night. The last night before the unknown took over his life. Oddly enough dying and returning as a ghost was the most normal with everything that happened with his friends alive.

“You can go ba-“

“We’re not splitting up,” Rudy growled plainly scowling at your hesitant features. Rudy’s slammed the door closed on his past life.

Sensing unease Rudy’s calloused hand reached over to slide into yours in platonic support. You continued your mission, unaware that three certain ghosts in breathtaking suits were searching for you.

Alex, Reggie, and Luke, affected by the purple jolts, failed to find the one place where their plan B could work. What Julie hadn’t known was that the guys had a plan just in case the Orpheum wasn’t their unfinished business. The three would go to Elysium to accept their fate and ensure Julie believed they crossed over.

With no Elysium in sight, the boys returned to the Molina garage hoping that one thing would go their way: Julie would go straight to bed.

The glow purple smoke trailed through the city park into an older part of Los Angeles before it stopped. Where the smoke stopped was a vast empty space surrounded by trees.

“Well, that’s a little anticlimactic.” You grumbled crossing your arms, “Willie’s somewhere here. Do you think Caleb has an underground lair?”

Rudy cast an unamused expression at you, “From past experience. No, that’s not likely. He probably has an apartment downtown. An underground network of caves in the woods is more shapeshifter style but still not true.”

“One: You’re rambling. Two: What the hell kind of life did you have?” You questioned furrowing your eyebrows at his rather odd piece of information.

“An old one.” Rudy spoke, staring ahead, “Besides, I think we should check out whatever building is hidden from our sight.”

“Hid-“Your mouth halted when Rudy roughly gripped your shoulders to twist you to face the empty space.

“Close your eyes. Trust your senses.” Rudy spoke softly, “Or pay attention to the slab of concrete in the middle of an empty space with well-kempt grass.”

Your palm slammed your forehead with a resounding thump in the night with distance lights from surrounding buildings. Rudy squeezed your shoulders as he stepped to the side once more in turn, closing his eyes.

“Walk in my mind.” Rudy stated for the first time in your friendship, allowing you to look in his mind. Your hesitance was met with another squeeze of comfort in his calloused grip.

Your tired eyes closed as your mind timidly stepped into the rather breathtaking mind of Rudy, who felt guilt the most. While Susie’s mind was like a summer day spent at a lake with brightness and gorgeous field of flowers, Rudy’s mind was different.

It was dark in Rudy’s mind but not as if evil, but as if he had been touched by the darkness and painted permanently. There’s was the odd whisper of childlike laughter intermingled with the full adult laugh of a woman; the laughter overshadowed with the sound of funeral music. You felt the lose near that memory. Rudy’s mind was painful to be in and drowning in the feelings he had.

Your breath caught seeing a door you assumed was of his childhood room with a name you couldn’t pronounce for the life of you.

“My parents named me after my mom’s dad.” Rudy spoke through his mind with a soft smile on his face, “I couldn’t say it, so I called myself Mischief. I stopped using it when my mom died, and I went by a shortened version of my last name.”

Your eyes watched as the door disappeared, and the reason you were in his mind came back to the forefront. Your eyes watched the image forming of a vintage hotel rippling in the air before it solidified. The size reminded you of a castle, and it felt like you were storming it.

Without any more mental interaction, you stepped out of Rudy’s mind back into the real world. The very same hotel in plain sight to both Rudy and your surprised elation.

“Honestly didn’t think that would work.” Rudy breathlessly laughed, staring at the hotel once hidden to them. A dark comparison to Elysium.

“How do we play this, Rudy?” You inquired looking over at him, “This is very different from stealing cars and scaring teens.”

“Easy. We blend in.” Rudy responded, holding one hand out to grasp yours in which you noticed your attire had changed, “Perks of illusion? I can alter our own perception of ourselves.”

“Oh, wow. That looks expensive.” You replied, staring at the diamond bracelet on your wrist matching the necklace you wore.

Rudy’s attire had changed from his normal button-up with the sleeves rolled to be layered under a charcoal grey vest and jacket. Sleek matching pants to his coat and the dark black-tie matching the elegant black dress you wore. He had taken pity on your footwear to fit your ability to walk and for the fancy place.

He even had diamond cufflinks that matched you, but the wedding rings on your fingers took you aback. Your widened eyes staring at him.

“Tonight we’re Mr and Mrs Martin,” Rudy spoke choking on the last name he gave as it was the upscale name toppled from his lips.

“Okay. This is a test of our abilities.”

“This is if our plan A of being invisible doesn’t work. The one thing we know for sure is that Caleb has never seen either one of us.” Rudy soothed your nerves with a half-smile,” Let’s get Willie out.”

Your arm slipped into the crook of his to walk to the front door, “I feel like a spy. I feel like that Naomi Roma-“

“It’s Natasha Romanoff. Have you ever seen one of the marvel movies?” Rudy demanded walking up the entrance with a pained smile, “You’re like my best friend and when he wouldn’t watch Star Wars! Never caught one of my references!”

“Okay! Sorry, we can watch the movies when this over.” You grumbled as your heels clicked in the foyer of the hotel. The inside made you feel like you were sent back in time to the roaring ’20s.

“Oh damn, this is nice,” Rudy whispered, staring at the chandelier in the extravagant lobby of the last place you wanted to be.

While on the outside the two ghosts appeared cool, calm and collected they were anything but. Both a wreck inside from the perilous errand they had done that could very well be the ending of Elysium. Rudy nudged you to begin finding Willie with your mind, but you didn’t need to.

That same glowing mist was on the ground pulling you in the direction of a dark hall away from the route to the Club. Rudy kept his eye out, a characteristic carried into the afterlife from his time with the FBI, as you followed the mist. The hall continued to get more and more dark as the walk continued.

Finally at the end was a blood-red door.

“I swear to god if he kills his Club members, I’ll lose it.” You hissed to your arm candy, “What if he’s really H. H. Holmes disguised as a former magician? His door is blood red!”

“Have you been using your serial killer colouring book again?” Rudy demanded stuttering his steps to place his whiskey brown eyes on you. The sheepish expression on your face was enough of a response to gain the look of disbelief could have sent you into hysterics had the time not been too serious.

With a grin belying the situation, you twisted your wrist to open the door to hopefully where Willie was being held.

“What a cliché. He’s keeping Willie in the basement?”

“Will you shut up!” Rudy hissed right back with a clenched jaw entering the somewhat unfinished basement. It was cold even to your dead standards where the cold didn’t bother that much.

At the bottom in front of a desk with only a small lamp as illumination sat a vacant-eyed Willie painstakingly detailing a fabric. The lush purple velvet fabric was bougie, to say the least, and rather outlandish for the skater.

“Willie.” You softly coaxed the teen to glance up from the fabric you found to be something Caleb would wear. Willie’s brown eyes barely met yours before they returned to the sewing needle in his hand and the tiny beads in the bowl.

“Caleb is actually forcing him to be his personal seamstress?” Rudy scoffed,d stepping right up by your side to look at the work.

Both trying unsuccessfully to coaxed Willie out of the stupor he was engaged in the sudden poofing wasn’t heard.

“Mrs. Young taught both Willie and Kayla how to sew. She’s quite the seamstress, reminds me of my old one.” Caleb wistfully responded with a smarmy smile on his face, “Well if it isn’t little Y/N and whoever she brought. Nice threads.”

“Let him go.”

Caleb’s index finger caressed the corner of his mouth so gently to ensure the stage makeup didn’t budge. His clear ocean blue eyes turning thunderstorm navy as his lips parted in such a bone-chilling sinister grin.

“Let him go? He tried to take my new house band from me. He thinks that those boys not crossing over is his punishment. I think that adorable but so very wrong.” Caleb shrugged, dragging his finger down the bicep of his puppet.

“What can we do to- “

“You see after he’s done fixing the tuxedo jacket I’m going to tie him up on the table and slowly strip away his soul piece by piece. No, Willie won’t get the quick and easy zap erasing him. I’ll personally see it’s the most painful thing he experiences and I’ll do so happily.”

“Willie! Wake up!” Rudy shouted, shaking the skater’s shoulder frantically with his focus never entirely leaving the mad man. The whiskey brown eyes panicking at the odd displaced feeling of reliving his living life.

“That won’t work.” Caleb chuckled crossing his arms, “It’s rather amusing you think you can beat me. I’m Caleb Covington! I’m persuasive enough for hundred of memberships to financially benefit the Club.”

“And I’m Y/N Y/L/N bitch.” You snarled viciously throwing your mind into the nefarious narcissistic mind of the washed-up magician.

Caleb Convington had started to bore his audience with the same tricks at every previous show. The lack of interest depleting the attendance numbers and severely hurting the financials. So Caleb decided to broaden his talent by copying the likes of Harry Houdini.

He had a knack for both the dramatics and swindling his audience to be tricked by the illusions he created. The heightened popularity increased Caleb’s thirst for status and fame, so he overestimated himself.

Surrounded by adoring fans and journalists, Caleb had his assistant lock him in a safe with no key, to the audience’s knowledge, and push the safe into the river. Unfortunately from the infamous magician and escape artist the safe warped due to the material it as made out of. Caleb Covington died drowning in a safe at the bottom of the river.

You flinched feeling the emotion at the time Caleb had died and the feeling of disappointment at not leaving a legacy. Your continued your trek in the struggling mind of a man who viewed himself as invincible. You caught glimpses of a young Caleb with his family and the moments of tragedy that shaped him.

You saw his first taste of power in death and the content since the first time he erased a ghost from existence. It sickened you more as you reached the point where Willie came into Caleb’s path.

I’m unique, Caleb. Unlike you with the illusions and empty promises, I have real power that you could only dream of. Hearing your thoughts and planting my own words is just the tip of the iceberg.

Caleb screamed in response holding his aching head as you cruelly ripped every memory of Willie from his mind. The screams echoed not only in the basement but through the hotel the Club worked out of.

“Stop!” Caleb pleaded, shaking his head back and forth. The anguish was un-fazing to both the lucid people in the room. Rudy too busy trying to wake your best friend from the trance he had been placed in.

“I can alter memories. Remove them and even plant memories of my own design. You may take from people, but I give to people. I refused to give you anything.” You circled the man seeing double from outside and inside his mind.

I’m everything you wish you could be.

Your last action in his mind was searing a burn that flashed across his entire body from a nerve stroked. With the heat equivalent to magma in his veins, you burrowed to where Caleb controlled the souls. With a smear of your fingers, Willie’s soul was released from Caleb clutches.

“C’mon. Get Willie.” You told Rudy sending Caleb into an empty trance as if he was no more than a wax figure. Rudy eased the skater up from the desk while you exchanged Caleb to sit on the chair holding the needle, “We need to leave. I’ll get rid of any speck of Willie in memories.”

“I didn’t even get to punch the guy.” Rudy pouted, dragging his feet up the stairs away from the magician.

“That’s a good thing. I’m sure Caleb would be more pissed about his nose being damaged than losing Willie.” You scoffed helping the man urge Willie to walk up the stairs and then down the hallway to the entrance.

As you walked you brushed the minds of every individual in the building, all members in attendance, you gently removed all traces of Willie. By the time you reached the edge of the park, you had relaxed.

“We should get him to Alex, they didn’t crossover. I can still feel their imprint.”

“He’d be safer at Elysium to lay low.” Rudy replied, keeping on eye on the skater and on anyone he could see.

With only a nod, you ushered the ghost to teleport both the skater and himself back to the safe walls of Elysium. As he did so, you reached out with your mind to the blonde-haired sweet male in adoration with your best friend.

Clicking his place was easy enough for your draining power after the taxing bond with Willie’s absent presence. Instead of walking as you would generally choose you poofed on the cement pad in the backyard of a home. The surrounding skirt of the backyard encased with plants and flowers.

“Hello?” You called out in the darkness. The soft, mumbled words had your feet moving in the direction.

Standing in a circle mesmerized at the purple tattoos lifting off their skin was the boys of Julie and the Phantoms. The teenage beautiful Puerto Rican girl stood across from Luke with Reggie and Alex on each side.

“Alex?” You called out to the boy wearing a baby pink vintage tuxedo that complimented his skin and hair exquisitely. The outfit definitely screamed that Caleb had something to do with it, especially with the missing fanny pack.

“Y/N?” Luke gasped turning to see you in incredibly fancy attire matching his gorgeous blue suit modified to having no sleeves. The anticipation of eating at you to find Reggie rocking a red suit with butterflies on the fabric.

“I’m sorry you didn’t crossover.” Your words soothed the sad teenagers that had accepted their fate only to have no control again. An introduction was brought between you and Julie when the living girl elbowed Alex.

“Not that we mind but what are you doing here? How did you get here, and why are you dressed up?” Luke inquired, pushing his hands into his suit pockets, engrossed with your gorgeous appearance.

“Well when you crash a fancy Club with a narcissistic founder…any means to blend in is necessary.” You responded, “As for your second question.”

Your finger tapped your temple before continuing to speak, “I’m here because Alex deserves to know. You all do.”

The boy in baby pink frantically stepped forward, “What happened?”

“Maybe it’s best, I just show you?” Your brows furrowed to your own question accompanied by your lower lip being bitten by your teeth. The red lipstick not budging as it was an illusion as well.

“Hu-“Reggie grunted as he spiralled with his two dead bandmates into the scene that had sent you on your determined mission.

The rough action of being drawn into your memories as jarring as the first time and just as scary. The maniacal magician pacing the dark basement simply to heighten his dramatic speech. Alex’s heart clenched at the vacant look in the skater’s eyes with the faintest tinge of purple in the gorgeous brown.

“I feel like I got carsick.” Reggie moaned leaning over to clutch his midsection once you released the ghostly trio. Reggie would often gain a look of disbelief and horror from the blonde drummer, but his entire brain was centred on Willie.

“Rudy took Willie back to Elysium where he’ll be safe. If you want, you can join us.” The words were offered to both the dead and living currently in the room.

Opting out, Julie retired to her bedroom to calm down from the rush of performing at the Orpheum of all places. Besides she felt like going to Elysium was best for the three boys, and maybe they would move there. Julie would miss them, but she knew they’d always come back.

Susie was quick to hug you tightly as you stepped through the gates with the dead members of Julie’s band. The boys changed out of the tuxedos they had dropped off at a donation centre, Reggie had wanted to burn them. After living on the streets for a short while, Luke understood the need for clothing, so the clothing was taken to shelters.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. Rudy told me you overexerted yourself again.” Susie spoke with a deeply furrowed brow oblivious to the puppy dog look from the bassist in red flannel.

“If I didn’t, Willie would be gone.”

“You’re pale yet flushed cheeks. I can see you have a fever. You need to rest.”

“I need to soothe Willie out of the trance that psychotic prick put him in.” You scoffed shaking Susie’s hand off your shoulder to sidestep her, “I’ll rest when he’s fine.”

“I-“

“At least gab something from the cafeteria for energy.” Susie’s brown eyes dimmed at your typical brush off. The same routine of overusing your powers and not recharging correctly, “He’s in Cottage A!”

The boys were on your heels as you power-walked through the streets of the ghost city with one location in mind. The living streets with homes of all style and colours appeared passed the bakery, the school and the clothing stores.

“You can eat?” Reggie whispered as a little ghost girl licked an ice cream cone walked by.

“Harvey adored cooking for people when he living, so he continued in death. Harvey can make food for ghosts, and so can his staff if they work in his kitchen. His pastry chef provides baked goods to Flora’s Bakery and makes the best ice cream.”

“Oh my god.” Reggie practically squealed wholly flabbergasted by the almost perfect place you created, “How do you pay for things?”

“We don’t. What Harvey doesn’t grow in his garden, he can make ingredients out of thin air. We all have some kind of job we do. Everyone has a role in fulfilling to keep Elysium running.” You simply spoke keeping your eyes on the cottage with the robin’s egg blue door.

As if he knew Rudy flung the door open elated to see you standing there. Both of you still wearing the illusioned attire. IN milliseconds he wiped the illusion away, returning you back into your street clothes.

“How is he?”

“No change.” Rudy replied, following your steps in the living room. The skater was staring blankly at the wall.

“Willie!” Alex cried, rushing over to kneel beside the boy that had so swiftly stolen his heart without him realizing. The emotion in his word didn’t get a microscopic flinch from the formerly so-called enemy.

“Everyone be quiet.” You demanded forcibly staring each person in the room down for a mere second. With the desired silence continued, you ignored the headache forming in your head to step into the skater’s mind.

William Young was screaming to be released by the prison of his own mind Caleb had forced him into. He had felt the restriction on his soul lifted and the mist of purple leaving his brain, but he was still stuck.

He could barely breathe with the weight on his chest. Willie didn’t like feeling stuck in one place as he was a wanderer at heart. It was a reason why he had joined the Hollywood Ghost Club with the promise of travel.

Willie come back

In his mind, the sound of your voice firstly grounded the young man as a mirage of your form flickered. Your eyes screamed worry while the smile was one of relief.

Caleb can’t hurt you anymore. Come home.

The spectators watching see your flinching wavering expression and the tensing of Willie’s facial muscles. Everyone sat on the edge of their seat as the two pairs eyes opened in synch of the yells of hurt.

What they didn’t expect was your eyes to roll into the back of your skull and you to collapse onto the floor.

“Y/N!” Willie cried, stumbling off the couch onto the cold floor where your body lay prone, “Wake up!”

It seemed everyone forgot the little detail of being dead.

“She’s fine.” Rudy remarked, shaking your arm with such gentle care matching the four guys’ care in the room.

Your eyelids fluttered open under the bright lights of the unused cottage still waiting for an owner.

“Susie was right.” You grumbled allowing Willie to help you sit up against the blue velvet couch. Your mussed hair adorable in the eyes of the guitarist utterly enamoured with everything about you.

“She usually is.” Rudy mused, thinking of the many times she had proven everyone wrong, “She punched me for not bringing you home.”

“Gotta love her.” You snorted turning to face the four ghosts awkwardly gazing around the room. It was barren of personality with the lack of inhabitants. The yearning quickly found in the boys’ eyes, “You know this isn’t the only cottage in need of people.”

“What do-“

“You’re welcome to live here. I know you three live in that studio, but here you can have a real bed. You can eat and having your own place. You can come and go as you please.” You offered without looking, Rudy.

“I don’-“

“If you don’t want to live here, it’s okay, but the option is always there. Willie, we make plans for a skatepark-“

“Oh, you had me from the start.” Willie beamed tugging you into his arms, “I missed this. I missed you.”

“Me too.” You murmured into his warm embrace equally relaxed at knowing he was safe again. Your eyes clashing with the soft blue had Ideas songwriting already filled with lyrics of a pretty girl wearing a jean jacket with patches.

The lyrics turned into songs both in the studio and the cottage that Luke, Reggie and Alex accepted in Elysium. It had been a spirited discussion with Julie on moving to Elysium, but the boys were always there when she wasn’t in school. Often Elysium hosted a concert for the residents with the visitation of Julie.

Your reciprocated attraction with the messy-haired hazel-eyed guitarist flourished into a serious relationship. Luke took on the role of teaching how to play the guitar and songwriting. Alex took of mediation while Reggie worked with Harvey.

Willie quickly took on designing the skatepark he taught at while also taking a position at the ghost school.

“Morning.” The soft whisper roused your sleep into the golden glow of the morning light and chirping birds.

The growling aspect of his voice coming from only just waking up. The sight of Luke’s bleary eyes was heartwarming.

A year into moving into Elysium, Luke had asked if you’d like to move in as he was the only one in the original house. Alex had moved into the little cottage with Willie three months into the relationship while Reggie was going back and forth between Susie’s room and his own place.

“Morning.” You hummed leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

“You know I thought my life ended when I died. That I could never find someone and have a family. That I couldn’t share my music with the world. I was wrong.” Luke murmured as he cupped your cheek in his hand, “The band is growing more and more each day. I found the love of my life, and we have a family with everyone. I haven’t felt like I had had home for so long, but I get it now. You’re my home. I love you.”

Your cheeks warmed up at the adoration Luke displayed in his expressive hazel green gaze just as it had since day one. The awe fell from his lips before you pressed a kiss to his lips, only one of the many in the eons to come.

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becausethathappens · 4 years ago

Note

Will you please write a super angsty fic where Link is freaking out because he thinks the wedding vows he has written aren't good enough and Rhett helps him go over them and make corrections and says they're perfect but also, just says the vows he would say for Link if it was them like it should've been because he's heartbroken and Link can tell but their hands are tied and they don't know what to do so they soldier on without saying a word, but wordlessly communicating lifelong love and misery and everything, maybe comfort as well?

i'm really really sad and i can't shake it off and i really want some good angst and hurt/comfort and i really love you, maura, you're awesome

I don't do unhappy endings, anon. I'm confident you don't either. In fiction or otherwise. So, pardon this if it’s not what you expected.

Please enjoy? This was done a little hastily to share it with you (and I should be writing other things per usual) but I've had a rough week and I want to hopefully make someone smile. (I have way angstier stuff in the drafts and I will be sure to get those out eventually, too.) You’ll feel better soon. 🤞 Thank you! 💞

-———————-

now or forever

4k - Rhett writes Link vows.

If you were my boy, Blue

I’d bathe you in honeys (sp?)

I’d sing write you a love song

I’d shoot you a star**

If you were my boy, Blue

There ain’t nothing in this life I wouldn’t give

From my heart, to my toes, to my fingers, my nose (**)

Whatever it takes just to watch you live

continue to ‘ ’ grow with you like a vine ‘round a rose

If you were my boy, Bue

I wouldn’t want you all for myself

There’s no star bright enough to match your lightin’

In sickness, blue, so certainly while we have health

Hand in hand, no longer fightin’

What’s destiny (**)

You and & me

If you were my boy, Blue

I'd marry you

Thank God for Rhett. Giving him, delivering him, blessing him with Rhett.

Link is in the middle of a spiral (what he’ll later recognize as a panic attack) when Rhett arrives, the eve of his wedding. Bailing him out of this with pen, paper, and a smile.

Link has always been good at improv.

Though Rhett tended to find the words to start. These were his own vows and Link has been putting time to sit and start them off for weeks. Now that he has to, he’s dumbfounded, despite being deeply in love.

Amidst all the planning and chaos, writing his vows was such a given that Link left it as priority sixty-seven on a list of many more.

Unfortunately, even as busy as they’ve been, that list was shredded with the “who gifted what” tracking sheet (both literally, accidentally, and figuratively) back around the bridal shower and it’s been anarchy ever since.

So he thanks God for Rhett, who’s here, to stop another needless disaster from happening.

That same generous God, however, watches him plagued with thoughts of utter devotion at Rhett’s willingness to drop everything on a weeknight and rush over to help Link find his words.

His lyrics, really, is what Link has in mind. Since they used to write songs together and this felt much the same. He’s been floundering all night and now that Rhett’s here, he knows he’ll at least get what he needs done. Even if it’s not all he wants, right now.

That same God seeks judgment on his every decision or flinch against His will, for any reason, to spite him.

For this reason.

He wants to smush Rhett’s face and kiss him. Deeply. He doesn’t.

Even if there were sometime in the past that he could get away with a platonic smooch, now he can’t. He simply could not prevent that from escalating.

So, he merely tightens his grip on the wrinkled scrap paper in his hand and scrunches his eyes.

“Why can’t it be you up there…” Link bemoans, loudly, in his frustration.

Rhett’s eyes widen, in horror, and Link slams his other hand at his mouth, rolling his eyes. “Not like - I mean - why can’t you go say my lines for me. You’re so much better at this kinda thing.”

“Let me read what you’ve got,” Rhett says.

After some review, Rhett sighs, not unkindly and sits down next to Link. “Let’s just talk through what you’re trying to say because, yeah, this reads like liturgy.”

“Ain’t is supposed to? It’s in a chapel!”

“What do you like about her?” Rhett asks, ignoring his nitpicking. “Christy?” Rhett stares at him, waiting, too upset for Link to chastise but clearly wanting to.

“She’s patient,” Link says, reminded by the similar. Rhett folds over the book to an open page and clicks the pen in his hand, writing that down. “A-And she’s kind. Like considerate, ‘specially with babies and little animals. Sh-She does this thing where she immediately drops to their eye-level to make sure they don’t feel unheard or seen. Probably ‘cause she’s always been so tall…”

Rhett’s still writing.

“Then when I’m sick, she forces me to rest. You know I hate that,” Link says, voice rising a little, at the memory. “But you know I need that. You won’t be the last to make me stop and smell the roses or take a break, once in a while.”

“Her hair, write, her hair - the way it looks in the sunshine. Like warm caramel with flecks of gold. She’s a vision, an angel. Especially when she’s wearing all white, like,” Link says, pausing to point to Rhett’s undershirt and pale grey sweats. “Makes blondes look ethereal-like, always has.”

“Oh, and her voice. Sometimes, the way her accent catches, well, you know she don’t like to sing like us, never has, but when she says certain things, asks a question the right way - it’s music. The way it harmonizes with my answer, reminds me of singing, reminds me of us.”

Rhett keeps writing, quiet, and focused.

After a short time, Link can’t stop and wants to crane over to see what he’s come up with. Rhett hands it over after crossing a final “t” somewhere on the page.

“Those’re good, Link, but I think you need to keep closer to what I wrote, leave out the stuff about me.”

“Stuff about you?” Link asks, having spoken in a stream-of-conscious style, Link forgets most of what he even said

Rhett looks away, shakes his head.

Distracted by the desire to read the rest, Link abandons the lingering questions he has about Rhett’s suggestion and response.

“These are great, man, thanks,” Links says, pushing a soft hand into Rhett’s side.

His eyes scan to the bottom where Rhett’s added a few lines about the journey, the marriage, all the ceremonial aspects of the day for him to close with, but then something more.

Something about him.

Rhett catches him catch it and looks further away. “I know Christy pretty well, too, y’know. Y’all are just alike, in that way. She might need some back-up vows, to have and hold.”

Link reads them.

“You know, just in case.”

Link looks up and tries to laugh.

He doesn’t laugh.

He goes back to reading them.

Rhett shifts uncomfortably, touches the back of his neck, and shuts his eyes.

“Rhett, these ’re…”

“I know, bo, you can forget ‘em,” Rhett excuses, still not meeting Link’s gaze. “You want me to… I can rewrite the others on a different - I can turn the page and write ‘em there so you can just…”

“Hey, hey,” Link interrupts him, mad at Rhett putting down his best friend, and eager to explain his actual thoughts. “Rhett, these are perfect. These are… I’m sad I can’t say anything as nice in return to you.”

Rhett finally looks up to acknowledge that and their gaze heats and lingers.

“Not that I…” Link stutters to clarify. “Y-You’d have to be a - if that’s something that was gonna - you know - if that was gonna work…”

His mind does it’s usual jump to a visual for the worst case scenario depicting the implication he stumbled across. Him out eight grand on the wedding. Not to mention a wife, a family, a future, a faith -

a friend -

Link gulps, pushing that back away, pushing them both forward, in his estimation.

It’s too much to bear to think about for another second. When he glances at Rhett, he can’t get a read on his face what he thinks about it, and that’s scary enough for him to want to abandon the concept altogether.

“Christy’s gonna love them.”

It’s enough, saying his fiancée's name, to ground him again. Enough to make it okay for him to grab Rhett’s palm and squeeze it in thanks, between them.

Rhett’s made his choice to give up on film school.

Link’s made his choice to give up on whatever schoolboy obsession he has with monopolizing all of Rhett’s days and nights.

He’ll stick to the days or every other weekend, however they can still fit time together, is fine by him. This ceremony, tomorrow, feels as much about his graduation from friend to husband, and all that that entails.

They’re adults.

They both know there’s a lot of sacrifices to be made and this feels like the first time he’s really acknowledging how hard they’re going to be to make. He hopes they’ll still see each other.

He hopes their kids will get along.

He has a lot of hopes.

All of them involve Rhett.

There’s a lot he should write down for when Rhett finds his own bride to wed.

Link notices, suddenly, that Rhett is crying. The same part of him that's nearly broken the headwind of these conflicting emotions turns back to comfort him.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Link soothes, realizing he’s also still holding Rhett’s hand.

“‘M sorry,” Rhett intones, the words bubble up and out of him simultaneously, sounding like water draining in a filled sink. “And the night before your wedding, good Heavens.”

“Hey, I’ve been crying all week,” Link says, waving a hand at the stress that planning a wedding has kept put on him. “Nothing I haven’t seen in the mirror.”

Rhett laughs, rubbing a thumb over his own thigh in a way that brushes upwards against the place Link’s clasping his hand. Link nearly pulls his hand back, thinking Rhett’s trying to get him to sense his want for space, but when he meets his eye it’s clear he’d like nothing less.

“I think I’m just -” Rhett starts to say, trailing off. The light from the lamp on the far coffee table is the only thing on in the room. Link drops his gaze a few inches to try and see more of Rhett’s downturned eyes as he hems and haws. He squeezes their hands together, again, this time clasping it more firmly, still pressing Rhett’s large palm down from above. “I think I’m just a li’l jealous, is all.”

It’s the quietest admission he’s heard from Rhett since he told him he failed their chemistry mid-term in eleventh grade.

Link is also so lost at the innocence of the admission that he can only think of follow-up questions. “Of me?”

Rhett looks at him for a long, long minute and finally, when Link’s gaze remains confused for the whole length of the pause, he shakes his head, no.

Then he waits.

He waits for Link to realize what he means.

But he’s still waiting when Link, oblivious, moves onward trying to comfort Rhett, instead of understanding him fully.

The tension in the room is palpable as Link talks, but only to Rhett, it seems. Only Rhett pictures air bags being deployed in a car safety video as metal hits cinder block. Only Rhett moves his hand, though it’s all it takes to dislodge them from each other completely.

“I know you’re gonna make an amazing husband some day.” Link is saying.

Rhett’s hand aches where cool air now surrounds it.

“I know your wife is gonna get to hear you say such wonderful things about her.”

Rhett wipes his hand of the misunderstanding on the cotton of his pants.

“I know she’s gonna say the same kind of things about you, when it’s your turn up there.”

Rhett mourns the idea that this would ever be requited.

“I know she’s gonna love you, just as much as I do, so she’ll have plenty to say.”

Rhett looks away, wiping the last of his tears from his eyes.

“I’ll make sure she has plenty of ideas where to start.”

Rhett pats Link’s leg, in camaraderie, and nods.

And that’s it. They shoot the shit, they make a plan to meet up at a donut place for the groomsmen’s breakfast to thank them for their help, before the ceremony, and they’ll talk things through if Link’s feeling jittery still. Then Rhett’s gone.

It’s not until the next day at eleven on the dot (everyone has an agenda to follow and every moment is accounted for) that Link understands Rhett’s pain.

His mother straightens his tie and flattens the edges of his suit. “You’ll wanna know I heard Christy looks like an angel in her dress, from the girls upstairs.”

“Those actual angels you been talkin’ to, Sue?” Rhett jokes, where he’s twisting his cummerbund around every so often, bored.

“Very funny, honey,” Sue ribs back. “From the cousins, Beth and Hailee Sue. Remember they’re friends with the hairstylist you got to do the curls for Christy’s hair, today? She was over last night getting Christy ready for bed with how to wash and dry it a special kind of way. They were there, too.”

Link starts to tune her out, since there’s a lot on his mind, but then she says more.

“She says the hairstylist was talking about how jealous she was of Christy, all night, getting to marry you,” Sue relays.

“Oh, mama, please,” Link dismisses. The compliments he’s been getting have felt faker than the toupee on his uncle Bruce. That girl has never even met him. “I’m the only person here people should be jealous of, who would be jealous of Christy,” he says, trailing off, muttering his reasoning as he did. “Marrying a trainwreck like me.”

Link looks up in the mirror where some of his friends continue to mingle in various states of undress. Rhett is already dressed, however, and staring straight at Link like he’s been caught with a hand in a cookie jar.

Link’s about to ask what’s wrong when he remembers his words. Then looks again over the planes of Rhett’s face.

Last night’s words slam back into his mind and Link’s mouth drops open.

The church organ belts out an opening flurry of notes before Canon in D begins playing loudly through the sound system built into the rafters above them. Link looks up to see one of the church staff at the door instructing them to join the bridal party to line-up.

Link’s mom dashes off to where she’s paired with her nephew, Link’s favorite cousin, to be escorted down the aisle.

Rhett sees Link’s face rushing through a wash of emotions from a distance, he nods to the staffer in silent understanding that he’ll handle it, and then they’re alone.

He walks up to Link and takes his hand. He squeezes it.

“Hey, you gotta go. We gotta go. It’s showtime,” Rhett insists.

Link looks around like a bomb went off, since in some ways it did, and he doesn’t know what to do.

Rhett seems to pick up on that. He squeezes Link’s hand again.

“I’ll get over it, Link, it’s okay,” Rhett whispers, on the verge of desperation.

That confirmation is enough to fully shatter Link.

Only for a moment.

The music continues and Rhett keeps his hand hold.

They are adults. They are in love. They have to marry.

None of these things can be helped.

“I’m gonna be so jealous of Her, too,” Link whispers back. He squeezes Rhett’s hand one last time, as they part.

They leave.

They walk straight.

They part again.

Until later.

They move houses and cities and states.

They move mountains, inside and out.

They move together.

Much later.

They join again.

They run crooked.

They return.

To one another.

Link has spent years worrying a ring that means too much to too few people.

In the beginning, when he cries himself to sleep at what he thinks has been the mistake of a lifetime, it’s His talisman. It reminds him of the expectations upon this life he’s made.

As the years pass, however, the adherence to the bogeymen of their childhood’s rules wears thin. It starts to strictly represent love and patience.

Sacrifice.

It begins to feel like a burden. A representation of what’s been lost, not what’s been found.

He contemplates taking it off, but believes that to be a betrayal of all that it stands for to the people he stands for.

Then, one day, (surely mid-spin) he hears Rhett tell a story about wanting to change his ring.

He watches the silver twirl as Rhett explains.

He believes he was rushed into a certain type of marriage and a certain type of life by a certain type of person.

It’s a life that he’s grown to love but the ring represents a union forced by custom and not one that’s grown through devotion.

His ring reminds him of that too often to be good for him.

Link twists his again at the admission.

So, Rhett’s thinking about replacing the ring.

Link returns home that night in a stupor. He’s sure he said one too many things to Rhett to emphasize how wild it felt to hear him talk about changing rings.

Any memories of that day, their wedding, bring up a rush of emotions that he’s never been good at sorting through.

Today’s admission makes him feel the same spur to make use of idle, betrothed hands he feels when he cleans the fridge.

He wants to clean the slate.

He finds an old DVD copy of their wedding ceremony that he paid to have converted from miniDV some years ago. Now he struggles to find a place to watch that DVD. How quickly time has flown by.

Eventually, he ends up in his son’s room - no one’s home for the remainder of the night but he and Christy - now, he’s sitting on a bean bag, squinting at the game console’s controller trying to get the joysticks to move to “play” on screen.

The ceremony bursts to life and, like it was yesterday, Link’s nerves fizzle awake.

About halfway through the video, Christy finds him like that and sits down next to him in a thwump absorbed mostly by the stuffing of the chair.

They watch themselves smile happily at each other and Christy takes his hand.

“Should I be happy or scared to find you alone watching this on a Saturday night?” she asks, wryly, squeezing his palm.

Link doesn’t know what to say. He’s caught up in Rhett’s bygone script being spoken on screen. Words about Christy and about Link that were not their own, declared loudly in front of the congregation.

“I don’t know,” Link admits, shrugging. He doesn’t. He squeezes her hand back.

“You wanna tell me what’s eating you?”

Link hesitates, but relents. He wants that clean slate, after all. “Rhett’s getting his wedding ring replaced.”

“Replaced?” Christy asks, balking.

“Replaced, yeah,” Link responds, sure he didn’t misspeak.

“With what?” she asks.

“Oh, some new one. Fancy thing, very cool, made of trees or something. Honestly he wears the other one, the slick black one more than his wedding band half the time. He says it feels like the old one? It’s the kind of ring you get in a bauble at a vending machine crank. So, he wants a new one.”

“Jeesh,” Christy says, making a face at the screen. The camera catches Rhett stealing glances at the couple, then at the crowd, beaming at all with unbridled pride.

“Wouldn’t you be mad if I did that?” Link inquires, still baffled at the idea.

“Well, no, but don’t you love your ring? Heirloom and all that,” she says.

Link cringes. “Yeah, yeah. Honestly, I do.”

“So?”

“So, I still kind of want to and I’m not sure what that means.”

They watch the screen together.

“Do you wanna stay married?” she asks, in a small voice.

“Yes,” he breathes out.

There’s a long pause.

“To me?” she asks, her voice even smaller.

“Yes,” he breathes in.

She squeezes his hand, her confidence built back up. She begs him to join her.

“And him?” Christy whispers.

They both look the screen, the lens centered on the two of them, but their gaze is mutually torn to where Rhett stands wiping a tear from his eye at Christy reciting the last of the vows that he wrote her. Wrote him. Wrote them both.

She squeezes his hand again.

“Yes,” he breathes out.

She leans her head on his shoulder.

“You should probably get another ring, then,” she jests. “We shouldn’t have to share everything.”

The slate is clean.

There’s a lot he wants to say to Rhett about it, but just as before, he’s relied on Rhett to give him the right words to say. So, instead of words, he starts wearing Rhett’s ring.

Then, a new one, when he realizes he can match him separate from the other, all told. Have something of Rhett’s, all to himself.

In his unspoken push towards something more, their hands now match along with their steps, as they walk forward.

On the last week in July, they get ice cream at the fifth place that month to mistake them for husbands, but the first one he hears Link crow an affirmative in response.

Rhett waits for him while he triple-tips the cashier (for the guess) and pays for their cones.

“Bad joke,” Rhett says, softly, but firm.

“Who’s kidding?” Link parries back, a smirk dancing it’s way across his lips.

Rhett watches him with a wistful look of disbelief.

“Link, we’re married,” Rhett warns him.

Link shrugs. “I know. I’m just waiting for you to figure that out and minding my ice cream here, all right?”

He’s got a mouthful of vanilla bean and extra cookie crumble, the next second, so his vow ends there.

Later, at home, Rhett startles Jessie awake when he fully realizes Link’s words.

He shakes her awake. He shakes them both awake.

“I’m in love with Link,” he says, like it’s a confession.

She kisses him because so is she. So are most people.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

Rhett repeats himself.

So does she.

They stare at each other under the cover of silk and moonlight.

“We’re married,” Rhett whispers, touching his hand to hers. Their rings clink, new and shiny.

“Yeah, and so are we,” she whispers back.

They fall asleep smiling.

The next day, Rhett sneaks up behind Link while he’s working and causes him to spill his cup of coffee. He gets the stink eye for only a minute because it’s the same length of time he can stand Link’s grumpy mug before he has to swoop down and kiss him on the lips.

“You figured it out,” Link says, grinning.

“I did,” Rhett chirps as he kisses Link more.

They take a car to their house. It’s filled with their love and the history of it; before, during, and after.

“What’s this?” Link asks, dazed in their post-sex glow, naked and alive.

He spots an old chord book of theirs from last time they wrote music.

“Oh,” Rhett says, bashful. “I came looking for you here this morning, hoping you slept over again, but, uh,” Rhett stalls, looks away and tries to take the songbook from Link’s hand. Link pulls it far enough he can’t reach. “You were already at the job.”

“And?” Link asks, using his spry, sinewy body as an advantage to slink away from the bed out of Rhett’s grip. He still has the book in hand.

“Those are your vows,” Rhett explains.

Link looks down and squints, confused. These aren’t the vows that Christy read at their wedding. He’s seen that video only a few months back and is sure of it.

“Our vows,” Rhett whispers, explaining further, at Link’s puzzled look.

“It’s a love song,” Link notes, marveling at the gesture. What it means to a young version of himself that once felt like they had surely cut out and mourned the possibility of this - all of this - ever happening. To have that thought coexist with the image of a nude, hulking tree trunk of a husband laid before him smiling up adoringly felt panoptic.

“So are you.”

Link begins to cry.

“Play it for me.”

Rhett wipes his cheek.

“Get my guitar.”

They sing twice more that night, always in harmony (not always in lyric), then spend the rest of their lives together doing much the same.

#things i wrote #@anon #i hope you are doing well soon #💙#rhink

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somethingwritey · 4 years ago

Text

commission: “kids in love” - a zukka fic

hi all! i was commissioned to write a zuko/sokka fic by @kurisu-80. it features a 5+1 style, some hurt/comfort, and lots of zuko pining. we brainstormed the premise of the fic before i began, and it’s here just in time for valentine’s day!

💖 commission me! visit this post for more commission details!

---

Zuko didn’t know how to feel.

The hardest part was over, presumably, and yet the brand new emotion coursing through his body - no doubt unlocked by the Avatar’s reluctant trust - unsettled him. He wanted a name for it.

After thinking it over, he settled on relief.

For so long, he’d been consumed by nothing but white-hot anger - and beneath that, searing pain - that relief was hard to recognize. It wasn’t hot. Instead, it ran down his back and legs and arms like water. But… he had to admit, he rather liked it.

“Unpack,” came a voice behind him. Zuko jumped a little; he’d almost forgotten that Sokka was still there in the doorway. “Lunch soon. Uh… welcome aboard?”

Welcome.

Zuko hadn’t felt welcome in a long time.

He looked up at Sokka to thank him, but paused - suddenly struck by his eyes.

Blue. Water. Cool. Healing. Wonderful.

Zuko suddenly felt the need to study Sokka’s eyes forever, to never tear his gaze away. Sokka let him for a moment, like he understood Zuko’s need. And then the moment passed, with Sokka shaking off whatever had come over him and exiting the room.

Zuko didn’t move, though, staring after him for a while longer. A new heat had begun somewhere in his body, but it wasn’t anger. It was… contained. Almost hungry. He wished he knew what it meant.

Two new emotions in one day had to be some kind of record.

///

Sokka looked… younger when he slept, somehow. Like one of the tired kids they all were instead of a general orchestrating a covert rescue mission into the depths of the Fire Nation’s most heavily guarded prison.

Zuko watched him for a few moments before training his eyes back on the landscape around them.

Don’t be creepy, he scolded himself. Sokka wasn’t his to look at like that.

Instead, he thought back to what Sokka had said before they left.

“I have to regain my honor.”

Zuko shivered a little at the memory, so similar to his own favored mantra and yet, somehow so different. Zuko’s had been selfish. He’d wanted to save himself; Sokka just wanted to save his father. And Zuko was fairly certain Sokka wouldn’t mind staying behind in the prison forever if it meant ensuring his father’s freedom.

The Water Tribe boy didn’t need to regain any honor; he had more in every bone of his body than Zuko ever would.

Maybe that’s why Zuko was so drawn to him.

///

Oddly enough, the version of Sokka dominating Zuko’s mind that night wasn’t the one splayed out with a rose in his mouth.

Although he was thinking about it. Maybe a little too much.

But the Sokka that he’d been shown after had wrapped a hand around his heart and squeezed until Zuko thought it might burst.

Vulnerability. Sokka had shown him vulnerability.

He thought about the way Sokka’s voice changed when he talked about his mother’s murder. Beneath the jokes and the sarcasm, Sokka was quietly patching over the part of himself that he’d lost - same as Zuko.

Zuko wished suddenly that he’d told him about losing his mother, too. Maybe the other boy would’ve confided in him further. Maybe it would’ve been Zuko that Sokka would set up candles for by moonlight and looked forward to -

Stop!

That feeling was back. Zuko shook his head and limbs, trying to scare it away. He had to stop this obsession. It was eating away at him, leaving him exposed.

After the war is over, this will end, he told himself. You’re just bored. Nervous. It won’t be like this forever.

By the end of the night, watching Suki sneak away from Sokka’s tent in the early morning light, he’d almost convinced himself that was true.

///

Fire Lord Zuko.

The title still sounded so foreign and unwieldy. Like it didn’t quite belong to him.

“Congratulations, Your Zukoness,” came a voice.

Zuko turned around, raising an eyebrow. “Sokka, how did you get in here? I thought -”

“Eh, Toph is distracting the guards.” Sokka shook his head. “You really should get some better security, I mean. A couple of rocks and -”

“Sokka!”

Sokka smiled, resting his weight on the crutch he was using. Zuko was instinctively aware of the bandages wrapped around his own torso beneath the heavy new robes.

They all bore scars of the recent battle; peace had come at a cost.

“I came to wish you luck in person,” Sokka continued, less joking and more genuine now. “You’ve come a long way.”

“Aren’t you coming to have some tea with Uncle tonight?” Zuko furrowed his brow. Was Sokka leaving? Was this goodbye?

“Yeah, yeah.” Sokka waved his hand. “But everyone is gonna be there. I wanted to tell you in private, I guess.”

In private.

Zuko hoped his cheeks didn’t look as hot as they felt. Even after Sokka left to join his father and Katara outside at the reception, he found himself smiling… just a little.

Sokka had that effect on people.

///

Time was a finicky thing, Zuko was realizing.

One moment, they were children, and the next, they… weren’t. Or maybe they’d never been children at all, too burdened with adult worries and fears their whole lives. Most of them had lost people at a young age, forced to grow up far too quickly.

Aang had lost his entire culture.

Zuko had lost his mother.

Katara and Sokka had lost their mother, too. And now their father.

Chief Hakoda had passed peacefully in his sleep, Zuko had been told. Even after the tenuous usurpation attempt by Gilak, Hakoda’s time at the helm of the Southern Water Tribe could hardly be called blemished. His strength and rationality had brought them to new levels of international recognition and power.

He had been one of the most influential chiefs in Water Tribe history.

Zuko hadn’t been able to make it to Hakoda’s memorial - unable to get out of several Fire Nation industrialization meetings - but he had managed to make it to the South to see Sokka become the next Chief.

“You made it,” Sokka said after the short ceremony. “I wasn’t sure you would.” His voice was heavy - lacking its usual bravado.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Zuko laid a hand on Sokka’s shoulder, walking with him across the frozen landscape - away from everyone else. “I’m so sorry about your father.”

Sokka’s eyes turned glassy, and he looked away - unable to speak.

“He was a good man,” Zuko continued. “And he would be proud of you. I know it.”

Without warning, Sokka threw his arms around Zuko, burying his head in his shoulder. Surprised, Zuko stayed frozen, wishing he could do more to comfort the strongest man he knew.

“You’re going to make a great chief,” he said quietly.

When Sokka lifted his head, his face was inches away from Zuko’s - closer than the two of them had been in a long time. Zuko almost leaned forward, almost cut through the last bit of space between them, but before he could, Sokka was moving away.

“Thanks, Zuko.” He straightened his furs. “I should get back to Katara and our people now. You’re welcome to stay the night.”

And then he was gone.

////

Zuko hadn’t stopped pacing all morning.

He’d sent the letter after an agonizing few days of rewriting, second-guessing and re-thinking.

But he’d finally done it. Finally watched the messenger hawk lift into the sky. And now, all that was left to do was wait.

“Fire Lord Zuko?” a guard said, at last, bowing low as he entered the room. “The Chief of the Southern Water Tribe is here to see you.”

Zuko took a deep breath, straightening his topknot. “Send him in.”

Sokka burst through the doors, trailed by a couple Water Tribesmen. “I got your message,” he called before he’d even reached Zuko’s side of the room. “What’s the big emergency? Where’s the threat?”

Sokka looked strong - a powerful and more confident version of himself. Being the leader of the Southern Water Tribe had been good for him.

Zuko glanced at the entourage Sokka had brought and winced. He needed to speak with him privately.

“Give me a moment alone with your Chief,” he said to the others. Glancing at his own attendants, he waved for them to be dismissed, too. He wanted the throne room to be perfectly and totally empty.

“What’s this about?” Sokka looked around, seemingly unnerved. “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted…” Zuko cleared his throat. “I want to talk to you. About a partnership between the Southern Water Tribe and the Fire Nation.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow. “What kind of a partnership?”

Zuko swallowed hard. “The kind where their Chief and Fire Lord are… together.”

“Okay, okay.” The true meaning of Zuko’s words clearly hadn’t registered with Sokka, who began to tap his chin. “We team up, you’re saying? Form a political alliance? Hold on, hold on - don’t we already kind of have one? Isn’t that what my Dad was trying to -” And then he broke off, eyes narrowing. “Wait, together? Like… as a couple?”

Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, when you say it like that -”

“I didn’t say it! You did!”

Sensing Sokka’s imminent rejection, Zuko tried to save the situation. “I didn’t - look, it’s not like that, I just meant -”

“You made this whole emergency up, didn’t you?” Sokka shook his head. “Just to get me here! That’s -”

Zuko cringed, waiting.

“Kinda genius,” Sokka finished, nodding. “Somewhat evil. But genius.”

“I’ve liked you for a long time,” Zuko sighed. “I think. It’s confusing. But I just couldn’t wait any longer to tell you. I had -” His eyes widened for a moment as Sokka’s lips landed on his before they fluttered shut.

When they broke apart, Sokka seemed surprised at his own actions. “Is randomly kissing the Fire Lord grounds for arrest here?”

The idea made Zuko laugh. “Not if the Fire Lord wanted it to happen.”

Sokka grinned, and then paused. “You - you did want it to happen, right?”

“Yeah.” Zuko leaned forward to kiss him again. “For longer than you could possibly imagine.”

Finally, Zuko thought, letting himself get caught up in the moment. He understood what that feeling was now, the one he’d been so confused about that day at the temple and every day after that.

Love.

He loved Sokka, so full of honor and eyes bluer than water.

And he probably always would.

----

💖 keep an eye out for more commission pieces coming soon!

💖 message me about writing for you! send a private message or find me on twitter @/catrameows!

#zukka #zuko x sokka #zuko #sokka #atla #zukka angst #fire lord zuko #zukka fic #writing commissions #my writing #commission me #avatar the last airbender #angst with a happy ending #valentines day #mlm #writeres on tumblr

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slytherflynn · 4 years ago

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Old and New | Pt I

Blaise Zabini x muggle!reader

word count: 1971

summary: y/n is new to France on a study abroad trip. Blaise is visiting France post-Hogwarts. rags to riches story of an unfortunate muggle falling for a complicated, ridiculously wealthy person who just so happens to also be a powerful Wizard.

a/n: this started with an idea, became a moodboard, then became an entire fleshed out fic! I thought it would be short but my brain had other ideas. enjoy! note: I did write this from my personal perspective in life. as a result it is not very inclusive. I plan to change that with my next fics, I’ve just been having a really hard time lately and have been writing a lot of comfort fics and/or self-inserts to escape from irl bc irl is rly shitty for me rn

It’s a brand-new start, in a brand-new apartment, in a brand-new city, in a brand-new country... an ocean away from home. I can bring Tacoma to France, right? At least, that’s what I’m trying to tell myself. Study abroad is fucking... scary. I kinda regret it. It’s a good opportunity and for someone who doesn’t travel, it should be a fun experience. But I’m currently having an anxiety attack over taking out the garbage, so I’m not sure my positive self-talk is working.

I look out the window of my top floor apartment, wait until someone finally finishes walking down the stairs, and run out my door - I nearly trip about five times going down the spiral of death, my arms feel like jelly thanks to perpetually pushing my garbage deeper in to avoid this trip, and I swing with all my might to hurl my garbage bag into the trash compacting dumpster - only it hits the bottom lip and falls to the ground, splitting open.

“Great!” I say, sarcastically, “First they send my luggage to the wrong location, then they try to say my passport isn’t valid because my apartment was a temporary address, then I’m greeted with a fridge full of rotting food and no power, then I’m bitten up by fleas and now - I just- fuck. Why can’t I just- do anything- right-“ I cut myself off when I hear a screen door slide and blink a couple times to erase the threat of tears that had been creeping up on me while I ranted.

When I look up, I see a tall, dark-skinned guy about my age - handsome. He’s wearing a suit, and expensive jewelry. Combine that with the fact he’s living in the apartment building next to me, which is worth more than my life just for one month of rent, and I put together that he’s probably rich beyond belief. I quickly look away, not wanting to stare. I silently pick up my garbage, piece by piece. As I work, I feel eyes drilling holes in the back of my head. I ignore it. It continues, and I still ignore it as I finally shove my ripped garbage bag in the compactor and slam the door shut. I hear a slight jump up above, and chuckle to myself.

I zoom back up the stairs and almost make it to the top, but I trip 5 stairs away from my door - and fall, hard. Body laid out flat hard. Cheek scraped and stinging from the metal grating on the stairs, hard. Lost the goddamned slide that caught on the stair, and can see it gradually falling, bouncing and rolling down the stairs, hard. I lift my head and see blood on the stair. I feel it running down my face. All I can think is that this really fucking hurts. The tears come, a combination of pain and frustration, and I pick myself up and stumble my way into my apartment, completely forgetting about the attractive rich boy who just watched me be a danger and inconvenience to myself.

I rush to the kitchen and grab a roll of paper towels, and run to the bathroom, I see the markings in the mirror and can tell it will leave a sizeable scar. Do I need stitches? I don’t know. Anyway, I start dabbing at everything and blood is still oozing out of every nook and cranny, to my displeasure. I’m about to start bandaging my face when I hear a knock on my door. “Fucking Christ!” I mutter to myself as I slap a wad of paper towels on my face and sulkily go to fling open my door.

I’m not sure who I’m expecting, but to see the same rich guy on my doorstep, slide in hand, probably wasn’t it. “Hey, um, I saw what happened, and I thought you might want your shoe back.” His accent sounds very British - I was expecting it to sound more like a snooty Frenchman’s.

“Oh. Um. Thanks.” I say flatly.

As my muscles twitch to begin closing the door, he says, “Would you like some help cleaning that up? I have certifications to give medical aid... and stitches. My name’s Blaise, by the way.”

Doctor, maybe? Probably. “Sure,” I say, opening the door wider and standing back so the blood doesn’t drip on his suit. “I’m y/n.”

A few minutes later we’re in my bathroom, me sitting on the toilet, him sitting on the bathtub as he helps me fix my face. “So, Mademoiselle y/n,” He asks, “Do you find yourself in these predicaments very often?”

“Which one? Poverty, flea bitten, or bloody?” I say.

“I suppose whichever you’d like to think I was referring to.”

“Well, in *that* case - I’m usually caught unawares in all kinds of predicaments - though I’d say self-injury due to clumsiness is an uncommon one. And do you usually find yourself in predicaments requiring you to treat someone’s wounds?”

“I used to, though now it’s only on the occasion.”

“Sounds like an improvement,” I note. “I won’t guarantee it, but I think I’ll get the hang of walking up the stairs soon enough, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily mind it if I did worry about you once or twice more. Why were you running? It seemed like you wanted to get away from something. Does your garbage compactor smell that disturbing?”

“It doesn’t smell great,” I admit, “But truth be told, I’m not a fan of human interaction. It’s scary. Especially when everything is new to me.”

“How long have you been In France?”

“A few days, just enough to get myself physically settled.”

“I see. And you are from America?”

“Mhm. Let me guess, my accent gave it away.”

“And the slang, I’ve yet to hear someone from France use certain terms that you seem to favor.”

“Oh, most of my slang is specific to my city, not just my country.”

“Your city?”

“Yea, Tacoma. It’s near Seattle, if you know where that is. Tacoma’s better, though.”

“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there. My mother is a fashion designer, but she only travels where there’s inspiration or a business deal.” So that’s how he gets the expensive clothes. The rest of the money too, probably.

“Must be nice, having a handmade closet.” I muse. “Not that I care for having any more clothes than I brought. They’re pretty reliable, if I do say so myself.”

He laughs. “Yes, well, if the blood stains don’t come out of your jumpsuit you might need a new one. They shouldn’t be too difficult to remove, though.”

“Yea, I’ll just dump a bucket of Oxi-Clean on it and call it a day. That is, if any stores nearby have it.” I frown, realizing I have no clue if France carries any of the products I usually get. This is gonna suck. Hopefully the internet has some answers so I don’t have to ask anyone for help.

“Why don’t I take your jumpsuit back with me? Save you the trip. Believe it or not, I used to have chronic nosebleeds, so I know a thing or two about stain removal.” Blaise offers.

I smile, only just. “Well, if you insist. But I love this jumpsuit practically more than myself, so I expect it back right away!”

He returns the smile. “A fan of fashion? You ought to meet my mother.”

I chuckle. “I’m sure your mom would despise me - I only own seven jumpsuits and some athleisure for going on runs.” I pause, then tack on: “Oh, and some fuzzy pajamas for when I’m sick.”

Blaise cocks a brow at me. “And when you’re not sick?”

“Don’t worry about it.” I grin mischievously.

A wave of recognition graces his eyes, and he very quickly looks away, I assume for being flustered.

“You Americans, always so scandalous.” He tsks in mock scorn.

“That’s what we’re known for, is it not?” I say cheekily, “Beer, boobs and gun barrels. And all the other problems that come with that, but that’s a can of worms I am not looking to open today.”

He ties off his handiwork, and says, “It looks like my job is finished, other than stealing your jumpsuit off your back to fix it. I can wait in the other room, if you’d like?”

“Um, yea, that works. Lemme just, grab my next jumpsuit. Gonna have to do laundry early, I suppose-“

“I can wash your jumpsuit for you. I’m pretty good at reading labels, if I do say so myself.” He jokes.

“Oh?” I say, “Then you must be a real genius! Who taught you, Einstein?”

“No, but it was another white-haired, eccentric man, so you’re not that far off.”

“When all teachers are like that it’s kind of impossible not to hit relatively close to the mark.” I remark, then change clothes as quickly as I can, tossing the dirty outfit into a trusty plastic bag and tying it shut.

When I walk out to the living room, Blaise is toying with one of my sculptures. He’s definitely been meandering and lurking around. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask, at which he jumps. “You’re rather skittish, Blaise.”

“And you’re rather quiet on your feet, y/n.” He observes. “But yes, I quite like your eclectic style. If only you had an apartment that let your customization shine. Something more minimalist.”

“Yes, well, it’s something I’ll forever dream of and likely never accomplish. I don’t suspect I’m going to be someone leaving the income level I was born into.” I say, just a little bit cynical.

“And why is that?” He asks.

“Because most people don’t, and the ones who do are the ones who make money. My career isn’t going to make me money.” I reply.

“So why did you pick it?”

I sigh. “Because somebody has to care about the people like me. The politicians don’t, the middle class don’t, and the rich are hell bent on keeping us there so they can have factory workers and have people going straight to prison after they graduate because we’re all desperate and miserable.”

He frowns. “That’s terrible.”

“It’s reality. And I don’t want to be like the people who get rich and stop caring because all they see is the wage difference and pretend it’s justified so they don’t have to feel complicit in the system.” I look him in the eye, my face grim. “Not all luck is by chance. Most of it is by design.”

He nods. “I understand, in a way.”

“Everyone does.” I say. “But understanding in a way and caring enough to do something about it are two different things.” I look away from him when I see his posture change. “I’m not trying to be rude, but it’s impossible not to notice the wealth gap between us when you’re wearing designer clothes and living in what looks like a mansion and I’m living in a building made in like 1900 with no elevator. It’s just the way things are, though.”

“I know.” He says quietly, thoughtfully. “I’d better get going. Your clothes?” He reaches out tentatively for the bag I’m still holding.

“Oh. Right.” I say, handing it to him. Our fingers brush against each other slightly, and it sends chills down my spine. He heads to the door while I’m rooted to the spot, collecting myself.

“I look forward to seeing you again, y/n.” He nods, meeting my eyes with a rather changed expression.

“I’ll see you soon, then?” I ask, not quite sure which answer I’m expecting.

He smiles, only just. “As soon as I am able.” Seconds later, he’s out the door, and I’m alone in my dingy ass apartment. How in the fuck did any of that just happen?

#Blaise Zabini #muggle!reader #blaise x reader #slytherin #hogwarts #lady zabini #harry potter #hp #imagine #fanfic #slytherflynn #part 1

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kjmsupremacist · 4 years ago

Text

TEASER!!! (if you share good things) you’ll become more lonely (u-know/reader)

***cover by the wonderful and talented @jongins-tiddies; please go check out their work!!***

Reader meets Yunho under less-than-ideal circumstances, and makes the biggest mistake of her life. It leads her on a winding path of violence, crime, and dark secrets, and forces her to confront ghosts from her own past. The crooked romance that blooms against all odds only adds another wrinkle to the story of a world that is crumbling at her feet.

What then, you might ask, was her mistake? Simple and innocuous, even innocent.

She tried to saved Yunho's life.

Characters: TVXQ! Yunho, Female Reader

Genre: romance (if you’d care to call it that), enemies to lovers, smut, mystery kinda, gangs

Warnings: major character death, violence, guns, blood, knives, generally dark & gritty material, unhealthy relationships, like seriously both reader and yunho are kind of unlikeable and toxic and also stupid

Rating: Overall, explicit, but just teen and up for the teaser (tw for blood and injury)

Length: Overall, probably around 30k, but about 400 for the teaser

Projected Release Date: Chapter 1 coming this Friday, September 10! weekly updates after that; 8 chapters total

A quick disclaimer for this, I guess. This is probably the most stereotypically fanfic-y thing I’ve ever written (and probably will write). However, I’m doing it consciously as opposed to thinking that this portrays a healthy relationship, or romanticizing the, quite frankly, abusive behavior exhibited by both the [Y/N] character and Yunho. This fictional Yunho is really just five hundred red flags in a trench coat and honestly so is the [Y/N] character. I suppose I’m almost satirizing the stereotypical fanfic style with this work (while also having brain worm sexy times). While I cannot be held responsible for how you choose to interpret and internalize this work, what I can do is say my piece on how I feel about it in hopes that it will persuade all of you to think a little critically as you read. TLDR: this fic portrays an unhealthy and toxic relationship. I am not trying to romanticize any of these behaviors and neither should you. Love, in any of its forms and in all its power, is not always enough to save us.

lmk if u wanna be on the taglist! ^^

You fumble, forgoing the navigation app and pulling up your phone, stabbing at the numbers in your haste. 1-1-9.

“What’s your emergency?”

“I found a man in the street, I think he’s been stabbed,” you stutter out. “We’re in an alleyway between—between 6th and 7th Street. Please hurry, he’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Medical aid is on the way,” the dispatcher says. “Can you put pressure on the wound?”

You’re already on your knees, unwinding your scarf as the rainwater soaks through your pants. “Yes,” you say, balling the fabric. “I’m a nurse.” You press the cloth against the source, squeezing your phone between your shoulder and your ear so you can use both hands. “I don’t have any supplies on me. He’s going to need surgery, if he makes it at all.”

“Help is on the way,” the dispatcher repeats. “You have pressure on it?”

“Yes,” you say. You hear sirens in the distance. “I think I hear the ambulance.”

“Yes, they should be arriving soon.” You hear the squealing of tires, and then see the flashing of lights as the ambulance rounds the corner and barrels toward you. It stops a few meters away, and staff that you recognize jump out. “They say they’ve arrived?”

“Yes, thank you.” You release the man and hang up without waiting for a response, scrambling to your feet as they load him onto a stretcher, hands replacing yours. People shout instructions; they roll him towards the back of the vehicle.

“[Y/N]!” You turn; it’s your friend, Iseul. She’s a first responder at the hospital.

“Iseullie,” you mumble, never tearing your eyes from the man.

“What happened?” She wraps a blanket around your shoulders and guides you into the ambulance. “You’re soaked!”

“I just—I just found him,” you say, stepping up onto the vehicle floor. “I never thought I’d have to call 119 in my life.”

“Well, it’s good you did.” Iseul nods; they’re cleaning his wounds and have applied a Venturi mask. “We’re not too far away. He should be okay.”

“How can you be sure?” you ask.

“If it hit anything that important, he’d probably be dead by now,” Iseul says.

She’s right. You sigh, leaning against the cushion of the seat, tipping your head back as the ambulance rattles around you, siren wailing. “Hell of a way to catch a ride to work, I guess,” you say. Iseul laughs through closed lips.

#preview!#is anyone going to want to read this ... NO because my reader base is all czennies or stays and both are probably very confused.#its ok. this is for me

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threeletterslife · 4 years ago

Text

Resonance

→ summary: your college art final prompt is so unbelievably broad that you might just flunk it because you have no idea what you’re gonna draw. luckily, there’s a cute guy who’s totally into you that might just help you out. even better: he’s a merman.

→ pairing/rating: taehyung x reader | PG-13

→ genre: 80% crack, 20% fluff | mermaid!au & bullet point fic

→ warnings: profanity

→ wordcount: 9.4k

cr.

well

this is just

great

you are a creative person

you ARE a creative person

ok maybe if you keep saying that in your head, it’ll come true

but fat chance

because you're still drawing a blank

your university professor JUST released the art final prompt

and it is the most broadest and vaguest prompt you've seen in your whole entire nineteen years of life

it sucks!!

like what the fuck?

how are you supposed to draw something that "calls to you"

what's that supposed to mean???

your best friend yoongi tries to help you interpret the wack prompt

but you really shouldn’t be trusting a guy who uses art sketchbooks as scratch paper to solve batshit crazy math problems for fun

it’s a no brainer that yoongi’s a no-nonsense chemical engineering major

in conclusion, he wouldn’t know aRT

not like you do anyways

he can barely draw a stickman. and he even has shitty handwriting (that’s so barely legible that he always gets called back after finals to translate his writing for the prof)

enough roasting your best friend though

especially when he’s actually trying to lend you a hand

“what calls to you…” yoongi trails off thoughtfully

he lets out a snort

“ha!” he says triumphantly. “y/n, i got it!”

“really?!”

“just draw a phone with your mother coming out of it!”

you frown. “i don’t get it”

yoongi sighs, shaking his head disdainfully

“because your mother literally calls you on the phone, y/n”

“i hate you”

yoongi is no help

“prof would flunk me if i turned a drawing like that in”

yoongi snorts. “or she’ll give you extra points for thinking literally. artists these days are so into thinking outside of the box. maybe you’ll be unique for being literal”

god no

being literal won’t fly with your professor

she’s the fucking queen of abstract art

if you hand her a painting of your mother coming out of a fucking phone, she might just burn the piece in front of your face

besides, you can’t draw something that doesn’t stir some sort of inspiration in you

no offense to your mother (but she’s also a no-nonsense physician)

yoongi’s just back at it again with his nonsensical advice

you’d expect better from the dude who does math for fun

“you know what?” you huff. “i can’t trust a guy who uses a freaking sketchbook to solve advanced calculus problems”

yoongi grins. “just tryna help, y/n”

“my god”

“wanna help me since i helped you?” yoongi teases

he holds up a stack of paper riddled with numbers with one too many digits and foreign symbols from the greek alphabet

you feel like you’re gonna puke

“aaaaand goodbye!” you say, standing up from your seat at the campus cafe. “i’m gonna go to the beach!”

“right now??”

“yeah why not?” you laugh, shrugging. “i need some inspiration!”

“but then i’m gonna look like a loner sitting here all by myself,” yoongi pouts

“then come with me, duh”

yoongi gives you a look of repulsion

“i hate the beach,” he grumbles

“fine,” you snort. “just call hoseok or something. i don’t know. but i’m leaving! bYe!!”

you can hear yoongi cursing at you under his breath and you laugh

he’s got such a mouth of a sailor that he honestly belongs on the beach—if not, the ocean

you pay his cursing no mind as you rush out the cafe and across the school campus

the literal reason you chose to attend this university was its close proximity to the beach

you’ve always been drawn to the waters

yoongi, on the other hand, only came here because of a scholarship

smart bastard

but he’s a good friend

it’s kinda sad you’re always hanging on the beach alone though

you don’t particularly fit in with the rowdy party crowds on the sand

and you don’t go there to flaunt your summer body in a bikini

you just go for

~inspiration~

by the time you reach the beach, it’s nearly empty

when it’s nearing finals, no one dares to step foot on the warm sand because once you go in, there’s no way in hell you’re going back

some students learn the hard way

and then end up flunking their finals

it’s you

you’re ‘some students’

(to be fair, that was freshman year and you’re a sophomore now, so you won’t make the same mistake again!!)

okay… maybe

you’re on the beach and it’s nearing finals so maybe you haven’t learned your lesson

but in your defense, you’re only here for

~inspiration~

the salty ocean breeze caressing your face

the smell of open waters

the brisk air

you would live on the beach if you could

there’s a small little rocky ledge at the far side of the beach that serves as your little private area you’ve been using since you got here

no one ever comes this far

so you just claimed the rocky ledge as yours

it’s where there are cute little crabs roaming about

where the bright orange starfish and sea anemones attach themselves to the rocks in the shallow tide pool and (maybe) watch you watch them

(you don’t exactly have extensive knowledge about ocean life lol)

omg there was even this one time when you saw a fish in the tide pool

granted, it was dEaD so you had to make yoongi carry it in a plastic bag and give it a proper burial ceremony

anywho

you love sea animals and plants!!

for a brief second as you crawl onto the rocky ledge you contemplate if you should draw a fucking fish for your art final

technically, it calls to you… right?

the late afternoon sun warms up your cheeks and you sigh, out, leaning back to admire the waves of the ocean lapping at the wet sand on the beach

if you just lie like this, basking in the sun… you’ll come up with an idea… right?

two hours later, you’re still stumped

“well, fuck,” you curse

the tide’s starting to come in and your feet are already underwater

it looks like you should just go back to your dorm at this point

you’ll find your ~inspiration~ tomorrow

you sigh

why can’t you think of a cool idea for fuck’s sake

what calls to me??

the only thing you can think of is a flobbering fish and your mom coming out of a phone (a tribute to yoongi)

you end up accidentally staying until the moon’s high in the sky

the waters have turned into a black oblivion and the tide’s so high, you have to shift up the rock to avoid making it look like you wet your pants

if you were a werewolf, you could draw the moon

because haha, get it? the moon calls to them!

but unfortunately, you are not a werewolf

“this sucks,” you huff

usually, you’re quick to come up with good ideas and it’s frustrating that for finals you can’t do the same

right when things actually matter

you look down from the sky to stare at your feet

maybe you’ll just stay here until you can come up with an idea

you aren’t gonna give up so soon

besides, the quiet sound of the undulating waves is so soothing

you stay a little longer, gazing at the twinkling stars and daydreaming of simpler times when your art teachers would tell you exactly what to draw without giving you vague-ass prompts to interpret

that’s when something catches your eye in the dark waters

illuminated by the starlight… you see… a…

HUMAN???

“hey!” you shriek

okay now you’re 1000% sure there’s someone in the ocean right now

they have a head of bright turquoise hair and pale but toned arms

yet the person has their back turned to you so you can’t quite see their face (though you assume they’re attractive just based on the back of their head)

“hey!” you shout again

come to think of it,,,

are they skinny dipping in the fucking ocean???

freshmen these days!! they’re nuts!

“you’re gonna die of hypothermia!” you yell. “or a shark’s gonna bite your limbs off!”

slowly

very slowly

the kid turns around

and you nearly choke on your breath

because he is beautiful

not in a conventional tiktok boy way but in a mysterious manner

his alabaster skin glows in the starlight

his turquoise-colored hair is styled perfectly on his head, just swept gracefully across his forehead

his deep sea-green eyes sparkle as he cocks his head and stares at you

oh god

he’s definitely shirtless

“h-hey!” you call again, hoping you don’t sound desperate. “what are you doing??”

the boy doesn’t answer though

he just stares at you curiously, eyes glancing back and forth at your bare legs and your shocked face

normally, you’d be creeped out if a random guy decided to check out your legs, but for some reason, the boy doesn’t stare at you like he’s a predator

he just looks… curious

you gasp when he suddenly disappears underwater

“hey!!” you shriek

damn. maybe he just wanted to be alone

no biggie

you’ll just sit on the rock or something until he decides to talk?

or you can be like any other sane person and just go back to your dorm

a sudden splash of water jumps you out of your thoughts

you nearly fall back when the strange boy stares up at you from the ledge of the rock

he’s still submerged under the water up to his shoulders, but he leans against the rock and smiles at you

it’s as if he’s saying ‘hey, loud person, who won’t shut up. how are you today? nice to meet you’

at least you think that’s what he’s trying to convey to you

“hi?” you say, raising your eyebrows. “isn’t the water cold?”

the boy shrugs his shoulders then shakes his head

he seems friendly enough that you decide to continue talking to him

he has a strange alluring aura that makes you want to get to know him

before you know it, you’re scooting closer to the stranger

he doesn’t flinch when you’re close enough to touch his strangely dry head of beautiful hair

“woah,” you deadpan. “how’s your hair dry?”

the boy shrugs again, smiling mischievously

can he even talk??

or maybe he’s just being polite and he wants you to leave

maybe he’s naked?? and he actually is a skinny dipper

and he wants you to get the hell away from him so he can get into his clothes??

“do you want me to leave…?” you ask cautiously

the boy shakes his head

ookkayyy…

“oh… it’s just that you’re not talking to me so i just thought…” you trail off, uncertain

the boy laughs and it’s the only kind of sound you’ve heard from him since you first saw him in the waters a few minutes ago

and his laugh is just like the rest of him—beautiful

the boy touches his throat with one hand and shakes his head

you frown

what?

the boy repeats the motion again and again until it finally clicks in your head

oh!!!!

“wait, you can’t speak?” you say. “i’m sorry… i didn’t know!”

the boy smiles as if saying ‘it’s all right. you’re fine’

“i haven’t seen you around campus…” you start. “do you live around here?”

the boy shakes his head

“you just like late-night swims, huh?” you giggle. “i’d swim too but something about swimming in the ocean at night is super scary for me”

the boy laughs good-heartily. he points at you curiously, then gestures at the surroundings

“oh, why am i here?” you say

the boy nods his head

“i’m just trying to get inspiration,” you say. “i’m an artist”

the boy smiles widely. he raises his eyebrows and points at you

“yes, really!” you laugh. “wanna sit on the rock with me?” you say, patting the spot next to you. “you don’t have to be stuck in the ocean to talk to me”

the boy hesitates

he looks at you through his beautiful eyes and parts his pink lips

it’s as if he’s asking, ‘can i really sit next to you?’

“i don’t bite!” you laugh. “at least, the last time i checked”

the boy giggles

he reaches out and lightly touches your hand

you’re shocked when you realize his hands aren’t wet from the water

come to think of it, you are covered in more water droplets than the boy

well

something is a bit fishy around here

you slowly look up at the boy’s face

he shrugs but a mischievous, all-knowing smile plays on his lips

“what are you, a mermaid?” you snort

the boy looks offended, placing a hand against his chest and letting out a silent scoff

“sorry. i meant merman,” you roll your eyes. “better?”

you were only half-joking

but when the boy waves what looks like a fucking tail towards you, you nearly fall back

“WAIT!” you shriek

that better be a fucking costume

the boy laughs and he swims a bit away from the rock, only to do a backflip

that’s when you see that this boy is not really a boy

he’s a mythical mermaid???

with a sparkling turquoise tail and everything?? (on a side note, you have to appreciate the way it matches his hair)

okay

well

deep breath in

deep breath out

you were never one to say that mermaids existed

but you weren’t one to say that they didn’t exist either

okay

either you’re still dreaming or you just kinda befriended a mermaid—er, merman

“please tell me this is real!” you squeal, scooting closer to the waters so that your knees are submerged

when you were a kid and adults asked you what you wanted to be when you grew up, you said a mermaid

as you grew older, society drilled in your head that mermaids only existed in disneyland

so that was that

until now, of course

the boy pops up from the ocean again and he hoists himself up on the rock right next to you

he’s shirtless as mermen go, but that’s the least of your interests now

his tail comes up with him and he gestures towards it, allowing you to touch the shiny scales

“it’s beautiful!” you breathe, running your hands over the surprisingly silky tail. “i better not be dreaming right now”

the boy laughs. he points at your legs curiously in response as if to say, ‘i better not be dreaming too’

“you’ve never met a human??”

the boy shakes his head. he looks at you like you’re the most special person on the planet. and it makes sense too because you’re the only human he’s probably communicated with in his life

“wow… i guess there’s a first time for everything…”

the boy nods enthusiastically

“are you even allowed to approach people?”

the boy grins as if to say, ‘mAyBe’

“poseidon or some dude with a trident’s not gonna zap me with lightning for talking to you right??”

just a safety precaution!!

the boy laughs boisterously, head thrown back and eyes squinted

“well… i guess not,” you smile

you’ve never really been friends with someone… not human…

if yoongi heard you talking about this merman, he might call the psych ward on you

or you’re just batshit crazy and you’ve been imagining this in your head

the boy points at you politely, cocking his head

“my name?”

he nods vigorously

“i’m y/n!” you tell him

‘y/n…’ he mouths with his lips but you can’t hear it

“what’s your name?”

the boy presses his lips together, then as if a light bulb went off in his head, he grins

he mouths his name to you, lips pursing and parting with exaggerated movements

you squint

“daeyoung??” you guess

the boy snorts, shaking his head

he mouths his name again but this time with more emphasis in the beginning

“ohhhh! i got it!” you say excitedly. “taeyoung!”

the merman holds up a number one and nods but shakes his head when he holds up two fingers

“the second part’s wrong??”

he nods

“uhhhhhh, tae… young… young… something that rhymes with young…”

“oh!!” you shriek, “TAEHYUNG!!”

the merman claps his hands together gleefully

“am i good or what??”

taehyung pats you on the back as if to congratulate you for figuring out his name

“thanks,” you grin. “hey do you come here often? you know, on this rocky ledge”

‘yup,’ taehyung mouths. ‘i’ve seen you before,’ he mouths slowly so you can understand him

“woah. you watched me?”

taehyung bashfully looks away

“it’s okay! it’s okay!” you say. “i just hope i wasn’t doing anything embarrassing… like picking my nose or something. i’m always alone here”

taehyung grins, wiggling his eyebrows. it’s as if he’s saying that yes, he did see you picking your nose that one time

“well it’s a human thing,” you argue. “you wouldn’t understand!”

taehyung giggles. ‘sure, sure,’ he seems like he’s saying

you huff. “in my defense, i didn’t know anyone was watching!”

taehyung gives you a look as if telling you that was the lamest excuse ever

“whatever, tae,” you scoff. “i’m just flattered that you thought i looked interesting in the first place”

the merman grins wildly, making it quite obvious he likes the new nickname you had given him. he shrugs his shoulders and pokes your arm playfully. ‘friend!’ he mouths enthusiastically

“you wanna be my friend?”

taehyung rapidly nods his head

“hmmMm…” you pretend to think. “i’m a bit swamped with friends at the moment…” you fib. in reality, you only have like two best friends (yoongi and yoongi’s bestie, hoseok). but it doesn’t hurt to lie a little to tease tae

the merman’s lips pull down in a slight frown

but you snort and slap his bare shoulder

“kidding!” you giggle. “why would i say no to being your friend?”

taehyung rolls his eyes but he grins happily. he looks at you expectantly, almost as if he’s asking when he can see you next time

damn

you’re starting to get the hang of reading taehyung’s expressions

“when can you see me next time?” you ask

taehyung nods

“well… finals are coming up… i reckon you don’t have mermaid school or whatever?”

taehyung shakes his head, grinning. ‘no school!’

“lucky,” you sigh. “but fuck finals!” you pump your fist in the air. “i’ll see you tomorrow!”

‘same time?’ taehyung inquires

“sure!”

the two of you shake hands to seal the deal

you would’ve spent hours on end talking to taehyung but he’s the one who points to the direction of the beach and mouths ‘you should sleep’

“i don’t need sleep!” you declare but unfortunately, that follows with an embarrassing yawn

taehyung gives you the look

“okay… maybe i do need sleep…”

taehyung giggles. he pushes your shoulder slightly, nudging you away from him

“and i can visit you tomorrow…” you reason

taehyung nods

“so maybe i should get sleep”

‘that’s it!” the merman laughs

so you say your lasting goodbyes and watch as taehyung dives away from the rock

when he’s gone, shining tail and all, you’re left dazed and confused

maybe you’ve been hallucinating???

welp

if you were hallucinating, you’ll figure it out tomorrow when a cute merman doesn’t come to meet you at night

for now, you just need sleep to digest everything that had just happened

okay

you just woke up

and now you’re more unsure than ever that this… taehyung exists

what if you were so stressed out yesterday

that you were literally… seeings things

yoongi keeps asking you if you’re okay because you spaced out TEN times in ONE conversation

you keep trying to convince him that you’re fine

but yoongi knows you so well that he knows you’re definitely NOT fine

“i’m just tired!!” you tell your best friend

yoongi sCOFFS “so am i but you don’t see me spacing out like i saw a unicorn last night”

eRrrr…

how do you tell yoongi that technically you did see something like a unicorn last night???

well

you won’t

because yoongi is a no-nonsense-old-fashioned-traditional-by-the-textbook-chemical-engineering-loving-student

he would never believe you

“wEll i’m sensitive!” you protest, crossing yours arms. “plus i’m still stressed about my art final”

“i thought you went to the beach to get inspiration!” yoongi points out

“errrrr…” you scratch your head. “i got distracted”

yoongi sighs. “aRt mAjOrs”

“excuse me, how dAre you???”

but yoongi just laughs it off, patting you on the back before announcing that he had to go study for his finals

you should be studying for your other finals too

but you end up doodling all over your notes

doodles of tAeHyuNg

every ten minutes, you force yourself to sTOP doodling to actually read your notes

but it never works

by night time, you’ve gotten nowhere

oh well

now you can go meet taehyung!!

if he exists…

what if your brain was actually playing games on you??

regardless, you swallow all sense of doubt and march out to the ocean

the beach is completely empty and you make use of the privacy, skipping along the sand and towards the rocky ledge

and sure enough, there’s no one there

hMph

okay

maybe taehyung’s late

no, wait you’re early

so you’re gonna wait for the merman

and if he doesn’t come in… ten minutes, you’ll just leave and deem yourself absolutely bonkers

waiting is really boring

you keep thinking at least five minutes passed every time you look at your phone for the time

but, in reality, it’s always been less than forty seconds

you go back and forth between looking at the time to looking at the dark waters

FOR FIVE WHOLE MINUTES

you’re starting to get ANTSY

and doubt starts to settle in

if yoongi knew what you were doing right now, he’d laugh at you

oh god…

should you just… leave?

THAT’S when you see a familiar bob of turquoise hair in the waters

you let out a little shriek, scooting closer to the edge of the rock

“taehyung??” you call out

the figure leaps in the air like a gracious dolphin and dives back down into the opaque waters

two seconds later, the familiar merman leans against the rocky ledge and grins up at you

‘hey,’ he seems to say with his sparkling eyes. ‘missed me?’

“UM, YES!” you say. “i was starting to think i was going crazy”

taehyung chuckles deeply, the sound reverberating against the calm ocean waves

“i was worried you wouldn’t be here”

taehyung raises his eyebrows as if to say, ‘why wouldn’t i be here??’

“i don’t know! self doubt? maybe you have some underground castle you wanna hang around with your friends and family rather than come up to the surface to hang with me!”

taehyung shakes his head, laughing. he points to himself and mouths the word, ‘solo’

“really?” you raise your eyebrows. “no family or friends?”

taehyung nods. ‘SOLO!’ he declares silently, grinning

“are all merfolk like that??”

the merman shrugs. ‘never seen another’

“oh gosh, you must be lonely,” you say. “here.” you pat the place next to you. “sit on the rock with me”

taehyung obliges but he protests he’s not lonely by shaking his head

“what do you do by yourself all the time, then?”

taehyung grins mischievously

out of the corner of your eye, you see bubbles of water rising up from the surface of the waves. you gasp as they begin to float in the air

“bubbles!” you reach out to pop one, laughing when the remnants of the water splash against your cheek

the merman nudges you as if to say, ‘but wait! there’s more!’

the next thing you know, a huge floating water bubble splashes above your head, drenching you from head to toe

“vEry funny!” you scoff, trying to shake the water off yourself

taehyung gives you another one of his cheeky grins. ‘sorry,’ he mouths, but he does not look apologetic at all

‘but look! i can dry it!’

he waves his fingers at you and instantly, your sopping wet hair and clothes are dried. there’s even a ocean breeze smell that lingers on you now

“do you go around splashing people with water bubbles and drying them right after?” you accuse taehyung teasingly

he laughs boisterously, shrugging his shoulders. ‘mAybE’ is his answer

“you spend a lot of time on the surface, huh?”

taehyung shrugs. ‘maybe’

“not much of a fish dude?”

‘they’re creepy,’ taehyung answers

you howl with laughter. “and scary! like sharks, viperfish, hatchetfish… oh god,” you shiver. “i hate them. i can’t swim in the ocean. and i know most of the scary-looking ones don’t even live in the same ocean zone”

taehyung pokes at you. ‘scaredy-cat,’ he mouths

“am not!! how are you creeped out by fish when you’re half fish??”

taehyung scoffs. ‘my tail…’ he gestures majestically at his sparkling tail, ‘is not a fish tail’

“sure… fishboy”

taehyung raises his eyebrows and raises his hand as if to threaten to splash you with a water bubble again

“i was only joking”

taehyung laughs, poking at you then pointing to the waters. ‘wanna swim, though?’

“are you serious? i just told you i’m terrified!”

taehyung pouts, his pink lips pulling down into a sad frown

“that’s not gonna make me change my mind, tae��

‘just for a little bit!’ he protests

“i don’t even have my goggles, i can’t swim without them! and i’m not going in water that’s pitch black”

taehyung sighs. ‘fine!’

“i’m really good at swimming in the pool though,” you say. “i mean, they used to call me a mermaid. because i was really good at dolphin kicking. but then i watched a few underwater documentaries… and nope. never again. i am not going in the same waters that goblin sharks live in”

to your surprise, taehyung teasingly pokes your cheek. ‘cute,’ he mouths. ‘scaredy-cat,’ he adds

“show anyone a goblin shark and they wouldn’t be able to get in the water for a year!” you huff in response

‘never seen one,’ tae sings—if you could hear him, you imagine his voice would sound as soft as lavender with just a drizzle of rich honey

“doesn’t mean they don’t exist!” you argue. “maybe one day i’ll swim with you. but definitely not today”

technically, you just met the man—er, merman

you’re not so sure if you can trust him to console you of your great fear of the ocean

maybe once you get to know him a little better

you see

you’re very quick to make friends

you probably have a lot of acquaintances

they all know your name and you know theirs

but you probably could not name three facts about any of them. and they probably couldn’t think of three facts about you either

so yes, you tend to have shallow relationships with many

but if you find people you like, you cling to them

like yoongi and hoseok

you just hope taehyung won’t be one of your acquaintances

he better be one of your best friends

how cool is it to say your best friend is a merman????

very cool

‘cool’ is just not a word to describe you as yoongi often likes to point out

but you’ll show him

you visit taehyung every day

for seven days

it’s been a full week

finals is closer than ever

you have like… five days to get your art final done

and you still haven’t gotten an idea

yikes

okay well you have an excuse

actually, you have excuses. plural.

because 1) you’ve forced yourself to fOrget about finals and 2) taehyung is wAy more interesting than any final you will ever take in your life

besides, all the time you spend on the beach is absolutely worth it

you and taehyung sometimes even meet before night falls, just before the sun’s setting so the two of you can prank the seagulls

(tae hates those little monsters-with-wings so he enjoys it a whole lot to dump water bubbles on their heads)

you help him prank the stupid birds by giving him moral support! that includes cheering him on when he successfully attacks an unsuspecting seagull and feeding him some cookies from your school cafeteria to keep him well-nourished

taehyung loves human food

he says he has to live off of clams and seaweed

which, isn’t all that bad (you love salted seaweed chips and clams), but imagine having a diet solely composed of seafood

yuck

so you bake kale chips for tae one day (nearly burning down the communal kitchen) and he enjoys it so much, for five days, you bring all sorts of good human food for him

by the end of the week, taehyung’s put on some pounds

you think he looks even more adorable with a bit of meat on his bones

taehyung just complains that his abs are starting to disappear

so one day, you bring a yoga mat and the two of you do some ab exercises off of youtube

of course, that led taehyung down the youtube rabbit hole

and once down that rabbit hole, it is very hard to resurface

after tae got ahold of gordon ramsay’s youtube channel, it’s all he watches when you come to the beach

in the end, you have to ban him from youtube because he almost took your phone underwater when you tried to get him to stop drooling over gordon ramsay and his incredible cooking skills

but taehyung prefers talking to you over watching youtube

at least you think

you hope

there is never a day you meet taehyung and it isn’t eventful

there’s always something to do with the fun-loving merman!

which makes it very, very easy to lose sight of iMporTAnt things… like, uh finals

so, today, five days before your art final is due, yoongi sits you down on your desk chair and sighs. “have you figured out your art final yet?”

it is a question that catches you off guard

“er… no”

“iSn’t it due in FIVE days???” yoongi shakes his head disapprovingly at you. “c’mon, y/n, don’t some artists take over a week to finish a painting??”

“well i can take uh, three days without sleeping if it really comes to that”

yoongi sighs. “you’ve been going to the beach every day. still no inspiration?”

“err… i got… distracted”

“do you want me to come with you today or something? so i can whip you back into shape and make sure you get properly inspired?” yoongi offers

“no!” you shout

yoongi raises his eyebrows

“i mean, um, no thank you, yoongs,” you stand up and pat yoongi’s head

he scowls at you

“i’ve got it all figured out!” you tell him very convincingly

but it is a lie

“rEally?” yoongi raises his eyebrows at you

“yes. don’t you worry, my friend.” you pat his head again

yoongi rolls his eyes. “okay, well, worse comes to worst, you can always use my terrific idea”

“never in a million years”

“oh well. wanna skip the beach today? i’m inviting hoseok over to watch a movie. you can come too, if you want”

“no can do,” you say, shaking your head. “i’m going swimming!” you hang your swim goggles in front of yoongi’s face

“in the dark?? in the ocean?? i thought you were afraid of gobbler sharks!”

“goblin sharks. not gobbler. and no. not anymore. i trust the waters now”

er, or, you trust taehyung

he’s been trying to convince you every day to swim with him

and every day you declined or made up some stupid excuse

but today is the day you will accept

you even prepared by wearing a bathing suit under your clothes

and you’re gonna bring your swim goggles

you’re so ready!!

you trust that taehyung won’t let the fish get to you

he promised and swore on his own beautiful tail

so he can’t possibly be lying

“oOokAyyyy…” yoongi says, giving you a strange look. “if you drown, can i have your comforter?”

“oh, shut up. i’m not gonna drown”

“sure”

you huff. “whatever, yoongs. have fun watching that movie with hoseok. i’m gonna get going”

“i will. just don’t drown or something”

“i won’t”

five minutes later, you’re terrified you’re going to drown

as you walk across the beach, you worry that you’re only walking to your death

what if you actually drown???

and taehyung can’t save you because the water’s so dark, he can’t even see you???

what if a jellyfish comes out of nOwHerE and stings you so hard you’re gonna be paralyzed forever????????

EVEN WORSE

WHAT IF THERE’S A GOBLIN SHARK OUT OF ITS HABITAT

WHAT IF IT BITES YOUR LEGS OFF????

ohmygod

you think you might die

taehyung’s waiting for you on the rocky ledge as he always does

but today, he has a shit-eating grin on his face

he looks at your goggles and nods. ‘today’s the day!!’

you grumble. “this is not helping my stress”

taehyung cocks his head

“i’m stressed because of college, tae. lucky you. you wouldn’t understand”

the handsome merman snorts. ‘i wouldn’t’

he pokes at you as if to say, ‘tell me what’s wrong’

you sigh, plopping yourself down on the rock and looking down at your feet

“i have a really important painting i have to finish in five days…” you groan. “and my professor gave me an art prompt, you know, something i need to interpret and draw. but i can’t, for the life of me, figure out what i wanna paint”

‘hMmm,’ taehyung hums. ‘what’s the prompt?’ he mouths

“what calls to me”

‘what calls to you?’

“ugh. yeah. horribly vague, isn’t it? my friend suggested i draw my mother coming out of a phone”

taehyung cocks his head, curiously

“yeah, it’s stupid. so i’m stuck. and the final’s due in five days. but i was totally forgetting about it until yoongi decided to bring it up. and now i’m stressed”

the merman giggles

“this isn’t funny!!” you protest

but the merman giggles again

when you give him a disdainful look, taehyung dives into the ocean and pops his head out, waving at you to come in

you sigh, staring at your goggles. reluctantly, you put them on

once you strip down to your swimsuit, you stare hesitantly at the opaque ocean. you crouch down just before the water, contemplating and contemplating

suddenly, something grabs your arm and you’re tugged into the ocean

you sCreAm bloody murder and voila, now salt and fish feces water is up your noise

how wonderful

but two strong hands hold your waist and you’re able to resurface

the water’s cold, but not freezing cold at least. and taehyung’s actually really warm against your skin

“you fucking dragged me in!!!” you shriek after coughing the water out of your lungs

you hit tae’s bare chest in agitation

the little shit just shrugs and grins at you

you huff, wrapping your legs tightly around taehyung’s hips. “if you let me go, my friends are going to find you and roast you. literally”

taehyung chuckles. ‘i won’t let you go,’ he seems to tell you with a meaningful look on his face

“you better not!” you tell him

he laughs at you, softly touching your forehead with the back of his hand. instantly, you feel much, much warmer. even cozier in the supposedly freezing waters

even the water weighing down the hair on your head feels lighter. when you reach out to touch it, you realize it’s completely dry

“woah,” you breathe. “that’s so cool…”

you forget that you’re even supposed to be mad at the merman

taehyung grins at you, petting your hair. ‘i know, right?’ he seems to say with his twinkling eyes

he motions at you to take your goggles off

“what?? are you crazy? i can’t survive without these! i am not opening my eyes in salt water, tae”

the merman shakes his head, laughing. ‘it won’t sting your eyes’

“why? did you put a magical charm on me or something?”

taehyung shrugs. ‘mAyBe’

you sigh, skeptical

‘i’m trying to help,’ tae mouths. ‘it’s for your art final’

you raise your eyebrows doubtfully

‘i’m serious’

“why, is there something cool underwater?”

taehyung nods. ‘you need your eyes open’

you wrap your legs tighter around the merman. “so… you’re gonna show me… something underwater… that will help me with my art final??”

the merman nods enthusiastically

he ruffles your hair and pinches your cheek. ‘trust me’

ohhHHhhh if you didn’t trust him, you wouldn’t be clinging onto him for life right now

“promise you won’t let me go??”

‘promise’

you hold out your pinky for taehyung

he cocks his head. ‘what is that for?’

“pinky promise??”

‘hmm?’

oh man

that might just be a human thing

silly you

“oH uh, nEver mInd th—”

you try to retract your pinky but taehyung stops you

he slowly pulls up his own hand, his pinky jutting out awkwardly

‘like this?’ he questions, poking at your pinky with his

you have to stifle a laUgh

“um, not quite,” you say. “you have to wrap your pinky around mine. yeahh, like that. and then it’s a pinky promise! it’s practically illegal to break a pinky promise”

taehyung nods. ‘i won’t break it’

“okay good! uh…” you look warily at the dark waters. “what is it that you wanted to show me?”

taehyung grins. suddenly, you’re submerged underwater again and you let out a scream

but you can’t hear yourself

not because you’re choking on the water, no

it seems like… you can breathe????? UNDER THE WATER????

you hug taehyung tighter and try to scream at him to stop plunging you in the ocean without a warning

but no sound comes out of your lips

‘taehyung!” you shriek soundlessly

“open your eyes, y/n…” a deep, resonate voice tells you

you nearly gasp in shock

was that… was that taehyung’s voice? his speaking voice????????

“it’s okay… you’re protected under a charm,” his mellifluous tone soothes you. “you’re able to breathe underwater, y/n. but you won’t be able to speak.” he laughs, which sounds very familiar to your ears. “how the tables have turned!”

‘taehyung!!!’

“how good it feels to finally speak to you!!” taehyung laughs. “you don’t have to hold me in a vice grip anymore,” he snorts. “i won’t let you go. we pinky promised, remember?”

you groan in your head. ‘i-i can’t. i can’t do it, tae’

“aww, y/n…” you hear taehyung softly pet your hair. “take your time”

‘i can’t open my eyes. i-i’m sorry’

you can see the blackness through your eyelids. and there is no way in hell you’re going to open them

fine, you trust taehyung. and sure, the water may not sting your eyes

and on top of all that, you can fucking breathe underwater thanks to tae, but no

you’re still scared

you’re scared of what you’re gonna see

or what you won’t see because the ocean is probably pitch black

you just try to focus on taehyung’s beautiful, deep voice. it seems to reverberate through the ocean waves even after the sound hits your ears

“it’s okay,” he says. “don’t be sorry.” he holds you tighter against his bare chest. “you don’t have to see what i wanna show you anyway”

you make a confused grunt sound in the back of your throat

“you can hear it”

‘what???’

but of course taehyung can’t hear you. nor can he see you with your chin resting on his shoulder

“what calls to you, huh?” taehyung says in his syrupy voice. “i have a good idea”

then, to your utmost shock, he begins to sing

“where the sea breeze whispers

past your listening ears

and gently caresses your lips

there lies a great ocean

the waves undulate under the dark sky

under these waters

is a lonely merman

he longs, waits for a friend

a lover,

anyone who will save him

from his solitude

where the sea breeze whispers

where the great ocean lies

where the waves undulate under the dark sky

where the lonely merman waits

under these dark waters”

your insides melt

taehyung’s honey voice entrances you and you squeeze you eyes shut even tighter

a rush of inspiration washes over you

you shiver

oh god

you didn’t have to open your eyes after all

you don’t have to see it to feel the immense amount of emotion, love, sincerity interwoven to taehyung’s song

it’s the most beautiful music you’ve heard in your life

and it pains you that taehyung’s stopped singing

you’re speechless, pulling away from taehyung so he can read your lips. ‘that… that was so beautiful…’

“thanks,” taehyung chuckles deeply. “i sing that song a lot when i’m bored”

‘your voice…’

“i know. too bad i can only sing underwater, right? if i could do this on the surface, i’d serenade you all day every day”

‘i’ll come underwater with you,’ you mouth before you can stop yourself

then you pause

well

you suppose being underwater isn’t so bad

it’s just dark since your eyes are closed

but you’re warm in taehyung’s arms

and you can even breathe too

if you can hear taehyung’s voice and hear him sing, then surely, that is a tiny sacrifice you can make

“you’re gonna come underwater with me?? again??” taehyung seems in disbelief. “you already seem uncomfortable now!”

‘no i’m not!’

and to prove it, you force your eyes open

immediately, you’re so taken aback, your grip on taehyung loosens

the merman catches you before you slip away

‘o-oh…’ you breathe

the ocean is not as dark as you had imagined it

in fact, there is a halo-like light that surrounds taehyung

it illuminates his face, his hair, his whole body

he is like a walking—er, swimming—star

the light shines further out into the dark seas, making the water sparkle

‘oh…’ you breathe again

“nothing to be scared about right?” taehyung snorts. “scaredy-cat”

he bops you on the nose

you’re so in awe, you don’t even mind

“are you inspired now?”

oh!! right!! your art final!!

you were almost distracted again (even after taehyung just dangled the answer in front of your face!!)

RIGHT!

TAEHYUNG JUST HELPED YOU SOLVE YOUR ART FINAL FIASCO PROBLEM

YOU’RE SO INSPIRED YOU COULD PAINT FOURTEEN HUNDRED PAINTINGS RIGHT NOW

your fingers feel tingly

and your head whirls with ideas

taehyung’s voice, his song, his whole being…

it calls to you

omg

he just saved your ass

in one single song!!!

‘god, i’m so happy i could kiss you!’

and you’re not even joking

“kiss me??” taehyung seems taken aback, but he grins. “kiss?”

the way he seems curious about it, you’re not quite sure he even knows what that is

‘do you… do uh, merfolk kiss?’ you ask cautiously

taehyung smiles. “let’s find out”

his eyes sparkle as both of you begin to lean into each other

you take it slowly, admiring his alabaster skin, pink cheeks and rosy lips

he stares into your eyes and gently tucks your hair behind your ear

right before you move in to kiss his lips, he leans in to rest his forehead against yours

taehyung’s eyes flutter close and he sighs as you stay still in his arms, confused

but you decide to go with the flow, keeping your foreheads together as you close your eyes too

it’s an intimate moment

you, resting your forehead against his while under the same ocean you were once so scared of

you, feeling emotionally attached to a merman

you, dreaming of kissing taehyung. properly. you know, on the lips and whatnot

when taehyung finally pulls away, he grins

“wasn’t that a nice kiss?” he whispers, touching your cheeks and giggling just at the thought of it

yikes

how do you break it to him

that forehead touching is not really… the kissing you were thinking of

‘well…’ you giggle. ‘in the human world… um…’

“in the human world…?”

‘we kiss with our lips’

“oh!” taehyung exclaims. he scratches his head. “lips????”

‘like this!’

with that, you tug him into a kiss. a proper one this time

he melts in your arms, sighing as he leans forward and instinctively closes his eyes

you let yourself relax too

and god what the fuck

his lips feel so soft

is there a special ocean chapstick he uses???

does he use some special sand as a lip scrub??????

and even though he probably hasn’t kissed the human way before,,,

man he knows what he’s doing

it makes you think for a hot second

damn

you’re making out with a merman

… under the sea

?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

this is what your life has become

and honestly, you can’t complain

taehyung’s the first to pull away, panting slowly. “i didn’t think my breath could ever be taken away,” he grins cheesily

‘you’re welcome,’ you grin back, slightly breathless yourself

“so… now that i’ve given you amazing inspiration… don’t you need to write it down somewhere?”

‘oh!’ you gasp. ‘right!’

you need to get started on painting as soon as possible!!! you can’t ever forget the feeling of taehyung… singing for you. but something about painting it when the memory’s fresh promises the best results

what calls to you…

you smile

a goddamn merman!!

literally

you’re so gonna ace this art final

you paint nonstop for four days

although you want to, you can’t even visit the beach

because you absolutely HATE it when your workflow is stopped

so you have to keep on painting until you finish

you force yoongi to go out on the beach and lay some cookies on your special rocky ledge. he frowns at your strange directions

“i dOn’T thInK yOu sHouLd fEeD tHe sEaGuLlS, y/N. iT’s gOnNa iNtErRuPt tHe eCoLoGicAl bAlaNce,” yoongi says very knowledgeably

oh god

you tell him to shut up

he pats your head and walks out toward the beach with the cookies

at least he doesn’t ask questions

you just hope taehyung takes the cookies as an apology

you don’t want him to think after you kissed him, you ditched him!! you’re just busy with your art final!!!

so you also make yoongi sneak in a note and a slice of cake the next time

except yoongi comes back in ten minutes and aSks: “WHO’S TAEHYUNG???”

you gulp

but you pretend you can’t hear yoongi as you continue painting on your canvas

the perfect, bright turquoise color was very hard to recreate with paints, but you somehow managed. you just need to add some finishing touches and your beautiful painting of your merman friend will be finished

you know yoongi secretly admires your art skills, but he laUghs when he sees you painting a merman

“is that a siren???”

“no—”

“a mermaid, then?”

“a merman,” you say. “and he’s singing the most beautiful song in the history of songs”

yoongi laughs. “sure, sure. looks nice, though.” he steps closer to the canvas. “really like what you did with his facial structure or whatever. and his hair color. pretty tail too. i did not know you had the capacity to imagine that hard”

you huff. well, technically… you didn’t imagine that. but you’re not going to admit it with yoongi

“i’m more talented than you think,” you snort, stretching back and picking at the paint dried to your fingers. “if i close my eyes, i can almost hear him sing to me”

“um, i think you fell in love with your own painting,” yoongi snorts

“oh, leave me alone”

yoongi raises up two hands in defense. “okay, well, the final’s due tomorrow, right? are you done?”

“well…” technically, yes. but… “i’m gonna go to the beach”

“wait a minute, with your painting??? dude, what if a seagull snatches it away? what if the paint chips? leave your painting! that’s your final”

“i’ll be careful!”

“your idea of careful is reckless”

you sigh. “well, i’ll be extra careful!”

yoongi can’t argue with you after that. 1) because he knows you’re stubborn and won’t give up and 2) because when you say you’re gonna be extra with anything, you go all out

you take nearly twenty minutes getting to the beach because you walk very slowly with your painting in both hands. you hold the painting above your head so sand won’t fly onto it

and you check out for those nasty seagulls because sometimes they decide to shit on people’s heads

if they decide it’s a good day to shit on your final, it’s over

nevertheless, you need to show your masterpiece to taehyung

when you get to the rocky ledge, you call for the merman

in just a few seconds, taehyung pops up his head from under the water

“were you waiting for me?” you laugh. “did you get the cookies and cake i sent?”

taehyung nods, grinning as he begins to swim toward you. he points curiously at the canvas in your hands

“it’s my art final,” you explain to him. you turn it around so taehyung can see it

he gasps

‘that’s me???’

“yup”

‘you didn’t draw my abs!!’

“well, can’t draw what you don’t have,” you giggle, teasing the pouting merman. he huffs

‘i like it, though’

“reallY??” you gush. “that’s all i wanted to hear!!”

you set the painting down carefully to the side and scoot closer to the rocky ledge

taehyung rests his hand on your forehead before cupping your cheek. he grins before cocking his eyebrows and pulling your head underwater

‘taehyung!!!’ you shriek

“i just wanted to tell you how beautifully you drew me,” taehyung laughs, booping your nose. “i mean, i’m much, much better looking in real life, but the colors. you’re very talented, y/n”

you smile. ‘well, i did try really har—”

taehyung interrupts you by kissing you. he misses your lips the first time and gets the corner of your mouth, but the second time, his lips meet yours perfectly

the heavenly moment would’ve lasted wayyy longer if it weren’t for the:

“Y/N, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU STICKING YOUR HEAD IN THE WATER???”

you let out a silent shriek and taehyung’s eyes widen. both of you break apart from the kiss and taehyung suddenly dives deep down into the ocean

and right when the merman is out of your range, you can’t breathe nor see clearly in the ocean anymore

when you get your head out of the waters, you’re a choking, coughing mess

you wipe away the droplets of water streaming down your face before you look up to see yoongi

“are you bobbing for fish in the ocean?” yoongi snorts. “for fuck’s sake, y/n, you can’t just leave your art final around like this!”

your best friend picks up your precious painting of taehyung and sighs. “what were you doing?”

“i, uh…” you touch your lips. “i was… uh… i dropped my ring in the water”

yoongi narrows his eyes. “you don’t even wear jewelry”

“okay fine. i was just trying to meet the merman of my dreams underwater”

at that, yoongi raises his eyebrows. “cool,” he says

“cool??” is that all he had to say?

“well, yeah. mermaids are cool”

“merman”

“whatever”

yoongi’s so chill with it that you’re unchill

“are you sure??” you say.

“am i sure that it’s whatever?” yoongi snorts. “yes? c’mon, let’s go watch a ocean life documentary with hoseok or something. finals is gonna be over soon, so we should celebrate starting now”

okay well

cool

this is chill then

yoongi is chill

you suspect he doesn’t believe you, even though you told him the truth

you could probably tell him that you kissed taehyung, a merman, but he would probably laugh it off

your best friend is quite strange. no-nonsense. sensible. rational.

but you love those things about him

yoongi helps you carry your art final back to the dorms. but just before you step off the rocky ledge, you turn around

taehyung’s waving at you very discreetly, so you smile and wave back

yoongi never notices a single thing

welp

it’s over now

finals is over

which means,,, IT’S BEACH TIME

unfortunately, everyone in the whole fucking school think’s it’s beach time too

even late at night, there are still a few idiots on the beach drinking the last of the beer they stashed away

it’s hard to meet taehyung just because the lack of privacy

you wait and wait and wait on the rocky ledge, but you know, with so many people, taehyung probably wouldn’t want to come out of hiding

it’s one thing for a merman to trust one girl

it’s another for a merman to trust fifty rowdy college students

but you have a feeling taehyung is always close by

you visit the rocky ledge every day, singing some of your own little songs (though you’re not a very good singer, you try)

you even talk to taehyung like he’s there, listening to you

but it starts to get lonely

there are so many people on the beach, but the one being you want isn’t here

you sigh, wiggling your toes that have become pruned due to the salty water. “i never thought i’d be saying this,” you say. “but i miss finals week”

taehyung would have laughed if he was with you now

god, you miss him

“or maybe you’re in the water right now, waiting for me to jump in…”

you sigh again. “or maybe you’ve migrated or something. do you even have to migrate? i have no idea…” you trail off, looking at the blue waters lapping at the sides of the rock

cautiously, you dip one foot in

the water’s cool, but not completely freezing

you dip the other foot in

okay

you can do this

you’ll just…

jump in

and if taehyung’s not underwater, you’ll just… leave for the day

you’re supposed to hang out at a computer cafe with yoongi and hoseok anyway

okay deep breath in

deep breath out

goblin sharks don’t even live near the shallow part of the ocean… right?????

so you’re safe, right????

unless there’s a lemon shark or something

oh fucking god

you shouldn’t have watched that ocean documentary with your friends

but the need to see taehyung surpasses everything

you close your eyes

pinch your nose with your fingers

and you JUMP

and immediately you gasp because fuck the water’s cold

lowkey, your heart nearly stops because of the sudden rush of cool water surrounding your whole body

and right when you think you should swim back to the surface, a pair of strong arms hold you, and a soft hand taps at your forehead

“hello, you”

‘TAEHYUNG!’ you open your eyes and see your favorite merman staring at you

“the beach is crowded these days, isn’t it?” he grins

‘i know! pesky people!’

taehyung laughs. “i made another song while you were gone. nice singing, by the way. i heard you a couple days ago”

you flush. ‘i can’t sing! but um, can i hear your new song?’

taehyung nods, clearing his throat

he holds your hands to his chest and begins to sing

“where the sea breeze whispers

past your waiting ears

and gently kisses your lips

there lies a beautiful ocean

the waves ripple beneath the awakened sky

under these waters

is a happy merman

he’s found his friend,

his lover,

his treasure that has saved him

from his solitude

where the sea breeze whispers

where the beautiful ocean rests

where the waters ripple beneath the awakened sky

where the happy merman lives

under these sparkling waters”

‘you changed the lyrics!!’

taehyung nods. “i think it’s much more fitting, don’t you think?”

the two of your resurface from the waters, gripping each other tightly

your hair is completely dry and it blows in the light breeze

the sunlight warms your face and turns taehyung’s cheeks even rosier

oh god

your heart skips a beat

but you try to calm down before you wrap your arms around taehyung’s neck and pull him close

the moment your forehead touches his, you close your eyes and it feels like there’s nothing else in the ocean, on the beach, except you and taehyung

the two of you may never speak out loud in the same place as you’re kept silent in the ocean and taehyung’s kept silent on land

but...

sometimes, you don’t even need words

gazes, actions, little touches here and there

they speak in louder volume than words

you don’t even have to say you love taehyung. he doesn’t have to say it either

it’s as if both of your hearts, your actions proved it

masterlist

#ficswithluv #btswritersnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanfairygarden #bangtanidx #tae #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fanfiction #bts #bts fanfiction #resonance #the way this was supposed to be posted in october #➖👄➖just gonna pretend it was supposed to be posted in nov all along #anyways #something new! a bullet fic 😳

98 notes · View notes

phantom-curve · 4 years ago

Text

find the strength, find the melody pt. 6

okay so I wasn’t originally going to include the entire scene in Lessa’s office but, once again, my words ran away from me. now you get this beast of a chapter. it’s the longest one yet, coming in at a whopping 4,383 words so think of it as an apology for letting my other fic take over for a sec and also taking like a million years to post this.

I started working on Luke’s POV because I am nothing if not a fan of jumping the gun, and his writing style is so different and living in his head is such an adorable journey of Julie Molina obsession. really excited for you to see some of the stuff that’s been going on for our sweet lil soft boy. also, if you notice the dialogue style changing a little bit in this/future chapters it’s so I can have the same scenes without a ton of repeated dialogue in Luke’s POV.

writer’s block anecdote of the day: I keep flipping Luke and Alex’s name in Luke’s POV because one of the main OCs in my novel is actually named Alex and has been since I started working on this novel a literal decade ago. oh and there is also an OC named Owen. someday I’ll learn to give my characters unique names, but not today!

taglist: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder, @kat-maybe-not, @lukewearingbeanies, @imastrugglingartist

Once they were close enough to risk running into other students, Julie dropped Luke’s hand. She made a point of ignoring the frown he gave her, using her now free hand to reach up and adjust her hat. Only, her hat wasn’t there. Her hands landed on loose, untamed curls instead and she immediately turned to Luke with a small amount of panic already building in her chest. He gave her a funny look, and then seemed to notice her hair and somehow understood completely. His hands reached up to lower hers. He let his grasp linger for just a moment before letting go, leaving her hands to dangle limply at her sides. Only his gaze held her in place.

“I never really liked that hat. Your hair is too pretty to cover up like that.”

He said it like a fact. The sky is blue, the sun is hot, your hair is too pretty to cover up. Julie felt a swell of emotions rise again, threatening to overwhelm her. But then he was off towards the front of the school throwing a very casual, “You coming?” over his shoulder at her. She raced to catch up, emotions beaten back for the time being.

They joined the surge of bodies filtering through the front doors. Alex and Reggie stood off to the side inside the entryway of the school. It was impossible to miss the tall blonde in his light pink sweatshirt standing next to the shorter boy in leather. Luke didn’t hesitate to weave his way over to them, but Julie hung back. She wasn’t really sure what was going on between them, wasn’t sure if she felt comfortable enough to just tag along behind him. She caught sight of Flynn’s hot pink beanie bouncing in the distance and let out a sigh of relief. She could separate from Luke here, talk to Flynn, get some perspective on this whole situation.

Luke glanced back at her then. She saw the question in his eyes, felt her heart race when he gave a little side nod like he was inviting her to join him. She swallowed and gave him a half-hearted smile before jerking her thumb over her shoulder in Flynn’s direction. He frowned, but she was already turning away. She pretended she didn’t hear him call her name, slipping into the crowd of students, letting it swallow her up so she could disappear from his sight. Eyes locked on Flynn’s back she moved farther away from the Sunset Curve boys. Flynn only jumped a little when Julie snuck up behind her.

“Jesus, Jules! You scared the shit out of me!”

Her best friend’s familiar voice washed over her like a comforting blanket. All at once, Julie was word vomiting the entire night.

“Flynn, oh my God. He had Mom’s song and he saved it for like, a whole year, and then he gave it to me yesterday, and holy shit I forgot how beautiful it is. And you’re not gonna believe this but I played, like I actually played the piano and sang, and it was like homecoming, it was like the biggest rush, like my mom was right there in the studio with me. And then, oh my god, now you’re really not gonna believe this, but oh my god, then Luke freaking Patterson showed up out of nowhere and he uh might have stayed on the pull-out couch, and then he uhm he made me breakfast this morning? And we walked here together?? He was like...doing this thing where his eyes were going all starry and soft and he was saying really sweet things and it was...a lot and I really don’t know what’s going on with that but uhm I’m kinda freaking out. Also, hey good morning, how are you?”

If Flynn’s mouth opened any wider Julie thought she might unhinge her jaw. In a sea of bustling students, it felt like they were in a bubble all their own. She anxiously fiddled with the bracelets on her wrists as she watched the gears turn behind her best friend’s eyes. After a full two minutes of silence, Flynn’s hand flew out to latch onto Julie’s bicep. Without a word she dragged her down the hallway and into an empty practice room. Flynn released her grip, Julie rubbing at her arm, jeez Flynn was strong!, while the other girl closed the door and flipped on the light that indicated the room was in use. She whirled around, her eyes drilling into Julie’s.

“You’re gonna start at the beginning of that whole mess of truth bombs and spill every last detail about exactly what happened with Luke ‘freaking’ Patterson. Right now. Starting with the bit about your mom’s song.”

Julie took a deep breath and slowly walked Flynn through the events of the last few days, from the moment she had run into Luke after her meeting with Ms. Harrison to when she ran away from him this morning as he was calling her name. Distantly, she was aware of the bell ringing, but it was only homeroom anyway. What did that matter when she was having an existential crisis? Flynn’s mouth only hung open a little bit by the time she was finished telling the story again. Julie felt her shoulders slump. What an emotional rollercoaster. Flynn was quiet for a long moment. Then, she smirked at Julie with a knowing look in her eyes.

“Hmph. Looks like my girl’s got a crush, and his name is Luke. I cannot believe you’ve been holding out on me like this!”

She was teasing, her tone light with a little bit of a mocking sing-song quality to it. But Julie could hear the undercurrent of worry running through her words. She had become quite adept at detecting that particular vocal quality in the last year. She sighed.

“Whatever. Can we focus on the more important revelation that I played the piano and sang again?”

Flynn, best friend that she was, gracefully allowed the subject change.

“Jules, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you! How did you feel? Alive again?”

Julie laughed, the sound feeling easy and light as it left her chest.

“Yeah, actually, that’s exactly how I felt. It was...honestly, it felt magical. It really did feel like my mom was there with me. There was this sense of peace that just felt...”

She shivered, remembering the sensation of ghostly arms around her shoulders.

“I can’t really describe it. But it was like something just clicked, and I realized that the best way to remember my mom and honor her is through music. The music we made together and the music I’ll make in the future. Rose Molina’s musical legacy will live on in me, and that feels pretty special.”

She couldn’t keep the smile from her face or the happiness from her voice. Peace really had been found out in that studio last night. Julie felt more ready than ever to move out of the darkness she’d kept wrapped around her like a shield for the last year.

“That’s beautiful.”

Flynn pulled Julie into her arms, the two girls sharing a long hug. The bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom, before either girl could say anything more. They left the practice room together, splitting up when they reached their respective classroom doors. Julie swallowed thickly as she settled herself in the back of her Calc class. This was one of the classes she shared with Luke, although she had conveniently forgotten that fact until the moment she sat down at her desk. He appeared in the doorway within seconds, giving her no chance to properly prepare herself. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and he started to make a beeline for the desk next to hers before their teacher caught him.

“Patterson! You know the deal.”

Not even Luke’s best pout could win over Ms. May. She simply raised a brow and pointed at the seat he had been assigned at the front of the classroom. Julie let out a small sigh of relief. It was hard not to smile at Luke’s dramatics as he slumped over and slowly shuffled his way to his desk. He dropped into his seat with a loud huff, glancing over his shoulder at Julie with forlorn expression. She rolled her eyes, smothering her smirk behind her hand. The bell rang again, and he turned his attention to the front of the room as Ms. May called the class to order.

He didn’t stop sneaking looks back at her the entire class period though. It made her want to squirm in her seat every time she dared peek at him and caught him watching her in return. He would always give her one of those soft, sweet smiles and then turn back to his work. It was unsettling, especially when she thought of how he hadn’t paid much attention to her in this particular class before today. Although, now that she really thought about it, maybe he had. Julie had basically been living in a fog of grief for the last year. The school could have caught on fire and she probably wouldn’t have noticed it until her clothes were burning.

She was almost grateful when one of the front desk aides appeared in the door to their classroom. Kayla made direct eye contact with her before knocking on the door frame to get Ms. May’s attention.

“Julie Molina is needed in the office.”

A tense silence fell over the classroom. Every single student remembered the last time Julie had been called down to the office in the middle of a class. Even Ms. May’s eyes flickered with pity for a moment before she gave Julie a gentle smile and nod. Julie stood slowly, forcing herself to keep her breath even as she gathered her books and papers into her backpack. 22 pairs of eyes watched her slowly make her way to the front of the room. One pair burned hotter than the others. Julie met Luke’s eyes for the smallest fraction of a second. Just long enough to see the concern rise up in them. Then she was out the door, walking the uncomfortably familiar path to the front office.

“It’s Lessa. And I think your dad.”

Kayla’s quiet voice startled her. She looked to her left, surprised to find the other girl keeping pace with her. Julie had thought she would walk ahead or peel off to deliver other messages. Instead, she got a small but genuine smile.

“Look, I know things are weird because of the Carrie thing, but I just didn’t want you to freak out too much. Frankly, I think Lessa’s kinda a bitch to pull you out of class like that. She’s an idiot if she doesn’t remember...well anyway. It’s something school related, not like a family thing.”

Kayla briefly squeezed her bicep, almost like she wished she could give Julie a hug. Then she was off down a separate hallway, waving the stack of messages in her hand at Julie as a goodbye. Julie watched her go for a second, feeling off balance and surprisingly emotional. Kayla was a Dirty Candy girl. In the battle lines that had been drawn between Julie and Carrie, Kayla’s position was as obvious as Flynn’s. For all intents and purposes, she shouldn’t be looking out for Julie, and yet, she was anyway. Julie wondered how many small protective moments she had missed from her classmates in the last year. Maybe she hadn’t been quite as alone as she had always felt. She took a deep breath and finished the walk to the front office, a little more ready to face what was on the other side.

Knowing it was school related and that her dad had been called down sent a shiver of apprehension down her spine for a different reason. It had to be something about the music program. Not for the first time, Julie regretted keeping it from her dad for this long. She was out of time now. At least she could thank the universe for small favors. If it had been her Tía in this meeting, Julie’s life would be over. Her dad was more understanding. They would be able to get through this. Julie forced herself to square her shoulders and enter the office with more confidence than she felt. Her mom’s words echoed in her mind you can do it. It was all the strength she needed.

At least until the door to Principal Lessa’s office was closing behind her, and she was face-to-face with her heartbroken father.

“Julie. Take a seat, please.”

Lessa’s voice lacked its usual bite. She just sounded tired. Julie felt that down to her bones. She slipped into the seat next to her dad without a word.

“I’m going to get right to the point. Two of us,” her eyes narrowed slightly on Julie who shifted in her seat in response, “knew this meeting was coming. The other one of us has now been informed as to why it was called.”

The weight of her father’s stare was crushing her. Julie didn’t have to look to see the disappointment there. It was rolling off of him in tsunami sized waves. Lessa continued talking despite the uncomfortable tension growing in the air.

“Now. We have several options. As you both know, Los Feliz is at its core an arts academy. We ask that our students participate in at least one of the arts programs. Participate being the key word there. Julie, it’s clear that participation in our music department isn’t something you’re able to do right now. While we were able to offer you a grace period, we have other students applying for the position you aren’t using. It’s only fair to allow them the chance to participate if you won’t.”

Julie was not going to cry. Not here in front of Principal Lessa and her dad, trapped on school grounds where everyone would see her when she left. She bit the inside of her cheek as hard as she could, letting Lessa’s soft but firm voice wash over her without absorbing anything she was saying. She caught bits and pieces: Lessa offering her a spot in the less desirable subset of illustration in the fine arts department with a chance to reapply for the music department the following semester, her dad requesting information about the new program as well as copies of her transcripts in case they decided to move schools, Lessa’s voice softening as she apologized, her dad’s growing even softer as he thanked her for everything the school had done so far. Then the meeting was wrapping up, and her dad was shaking Lessa’s hand, and Julie was focusing on her backpack so she could get the hell out of there. She barely caught the sad smile Lessa gave her as she said, “Good luck, Julie” in that same goodbye tone Ms. Harrison had used on Monday. Julie had never been so desperate for her old hat to hide behind as she was in that moment.

She shuffled along behind her dad. It was obvious the school day was over for Julie. He was quiet as they made their way out of the office and into the empty hallway. Class had been dismissed while they were with Lessa. Julie was thankful there weren’t any other students around to witness her downfall. Her dad almost made it out of the building before rounding on her. Almost.

“I cannot believe you tried to hide this from me! I thought I raised you better than that, mija. You’re lucky your Aunt had a work meeting she couldn’t miss. Why didn’t you come to me?”

It was the overwhelming disappointment in her dad’s tone that did Julie in. She had never been able to stomach letting her parents down. If Ray’s voice was any indication, she may have reached the rock bottom of let downs.

“I’m sorry.”

She was. She truly was. She didn’t know why she had kept it from her dad except that if she had told him then she would have had to admit it was real. She hadn’t wanted to face that reality just yet.

“I just don’t understand, Julie. You still like music, right? Is it the school? We can find a different music program. You don’t have to stay here just because your mom loved it so much.”

Julie opened her mouth to argue that actually that was exactly why she had to stay here, but a different voice cut her off. An annoyingly familiar voice that had her heart racing and her palms sweating.

“Julie!”

She nearly groaned aloud. Never before in her life had Julie wished to disappear as much as she did right now. Just open a hole in the floor and jump right into it. The absolute last thing she needed right now was Lucas freaking Patterson getting in the middle of this dressing down. Hell, she didn’t even want him witnessing it let alone trying to get involved. She clenched her jaw, ignored her dad’s pointedly raised eyebrow, and turned on her heel to meet the teenage boy that suddenly seemed to be haunting her every step.

“Luke. Hi.”

She kept her voice flat, the go away clear in her tone. His steps faltered for a second, but she could tell by the way his shoulders bounced that he wasn’t going to be so easily deterred. She had run away from him this morning and been saved multiple times in Calc. He wasn’t going to let her avoid him anymore. He approached her and her dad with all the cool confidence a 17-year-old boy in a band could muster. Her mouth almost fell open when he bypassed her completely to stick his hand out towards Ray.

“Luke Patterson. You must be Mr. Molina. It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”

His smile was genuine and charming, his lyrical voice all too polite. Julie wanted to scream as she watched her dad fall for it. Could she not have one single embarrassing moment to herself anymore? Was she doomed to play out the moments she came off looking the worst in front of this cute boy for the rest of her life? Her dad’s eyes lit up as he shook Luke’s hand. Julie wished she could bash her head against something.

“Patterson? Mitch and Emily’s boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

Only Julie caught the way his smile tightened and his shoulders raised defensively at the mention of his parents.

“Wow, you’ve grown quite a bit since the last time I saw you! Good people, your parents.”

Julie rolled her eyes at the dad-ness of it all.

“I forgot you were in the music program with Julie...”

She couldn’t help but cringe as her dad’s words trailed off. That statement had been enough to remind him why he was here in the first place. He turned away from Luke to give her another heartbroken look. She hung her head to escape the censure behind his eyes.

“I am. Actually, that’s why I was trying to find Julie! She was late for rehearsal.”

Julie whipped her head up to glare at the boy still bobbing in front of them. He was trying to cover for her not knowing Lessa had blown that opportunity sky high not even 5 minutes ago. It was sweet in a misguided way, but it was also a painful reminder of all the things Luke had that she didn’t.

“He knows I got kicked out. You don’t have to lie for me.”

Her voice was sharp, and she was fully prepared for the kicked puppy look she was sure he would give her, but instead his smile only grew. His bouncing became impossibly springier, like gravity just didn’t apply to him. And then he winked, actually winked, at her.

“Awh, c’mon, Jules!”

His whine was just the right amount of playful, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Her heart did a weird flip in her chest.

“I know it was supposed to be a surprise, but the poor man is clearly suffering! We should let him in on our little secret.”

Julie’s glare intensified as she ignored the way the words our little secret hit the softest part of her heart. What the hell was he playing at? He winked again, something that should be outlawed given the way it made her stomach drop and knees weaken. Then he held up his hands in a half-hearted I give up gesture.

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to tell him about the plan to get you back into the music program if you don’t want to.”

If this were a cartoon, Julie was sure her eyes would have popped out of her skull completely at those words. As it were, she settled on doing everything she could to keep her jaw from dropping. She had absolutely no clue what he was going on about, but he clearly had some sort of agenda. There was a script to this encounter, she just hadn’t been given her lines. She saw her father shift out of the corner of her eye, arms raising to fold across his chest as he took in the scene unfolding between the two teenagers. Luke was still talking, apparently deciding to capitalize on Julie’s stunned silence.

“I just think it would be helpful if he knew about it. Then we wouldn’t have to sneak around so much. I know you wanted to have it be a big reveal, but we can still surprise your aunt!”

Her dad turned to her with a raised brow, confusion and the smallest seeds of hope growing behind his gaze.

“¿Mija?”

Julie wanted to punch a locker and also vomit. What the actual hell was Luke Patterson doing? She had no frame of reference for whatever game he was playing. No way of knowing if it was serious or some sort of prank. She looked away from her dad to meet Luke’s eyes. He gave her a small, pleading smile, silently begging her to trust him. His eyes became impossibly gentle and she saw that same boy from the studio last night and the kitchen this morning peeking out at her. Ultimately, it was that intimate reminder of his softer side that made her cave.

“It’s nothing, Papí. Just some hair-brained scheme Luke came up with.”

She raised her brow in a challenge, communicating with that one twitch that she wanted to see his endgame here. His face lit up like the 4th of July. She was sure if they had been alone he would have let out a victory whoop. He rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets, biceps flexing in his best cool kid impersonation.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Molina. We’re getting just as much out of this as you are.”

She didn’t have time to snap back that she wasn’t sure she was getting anything out of whatever ‘this’ was before he was plowing ahead.

“See, my band and I lost our fourth member earlier this year, and we have our Junior Showcase coming up, but man, it’s been a serious struggle to find our sound without Bobby, and we really gotta nail this Showcase. It’s like the one where managers scout out who they really wanna pay attention to as a senior, so we gotta be the best.”

Julie saw where he was going with this before he actually got there, but it was too late to stop him. That was what she got for playing along with his stupid game in the first place.

“And see, I finally figured out that what we really need is someone like Julie to elevate us to that level. Your daughter is a freaking wrecking ball of talent, Mr. Molina. It took a lot of begging, but she finally agreed to play with us. There’s no way Lessa won’t put her back in the music program after we play together.”

His grin was a mile wide, pride shining from his pores. He was 100% sure of this plan, she could see it in the way he looked at her. Absolute blind faith in her. It was as flattering as it was terrifying.

“I see.”

Her dad’s voice was shockingly contemplative. Like he was actually considering supporting this crazy idea. He looked at Luke thoughtfully.

“Do Principal Lessa and Ms. Harrison know about this plan?”

Luke’s hand raised for one quick nervous scratch at the back of his neck. He gave her dad his most charming smile.

“Sometimes you’ve gotta go into ambush mode. Swing that wrecking ball of talent and smash some rules, eh?”

If it were any other parent, that line would have probably been the worst possible thing to say. But this was Ray Molina, whose first date with Rose had involved a small amount of breaking and entering as well as a large amount of running from cop cars and stealing kisses while hiding in alleyways. Rose had never met a rule worth following, and it was part of the reason Ray had fallen in love with her in the first place. Luke had sealed the deal without even really trying. Julie was doomed.

“I like it.”

Ray’s smile was almost as large as Luke’s. It was scary how similar they looked right now, enthusiasm shining in their eyes with an intensity that was borderline maniacal. There would be no getting out of this now.

“Why don’t you boys come over to the house after school? You can practice in our studio.”

Julie didn’t even get a chance to open her mouth before Luke was agreeing. She watched him shake her dad’s hand once again, some weird kind of bonding look passing between the two of them. Her dad wrapped a tight arm around her shoulder, and then turned them both towards the front doors again. Julie cast one final look at Luke over her shoulder, heart skipping a beat as he bit his lip and gave her yet another wink.

“See ya later, boss!”

Had her dad not been holding her up, Julie would have melted right into a puddle of mush. Yup, she was totally and completely doomed.

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