#I literally have no idea --especially since we kind of drift in very different directions naturally and it must be evened out

[rawliverandgoronspice]

last reblog came straight to you from: spent the afternoon trying to explain to a new-ish videogame writer who comes from movies and series why process is such a mess and why no, we can't refine text ahead of gameplay and we must bow down to actual ingame pacing and also no, designers don't read what we write and are kind of annoyed at the existence of game writing by default (sorry yeah it sucks you get used to it)

[pan-ick]

Golden Child Pt. 1

I literally can't remember where I found it but I read a headcannon for an angsty SBI +Reader and I loved it so much that I had to write something similar to it but I think I might have forgotten to like it, so if you know what the original is please tell me so I can credit them I was partially inspired by@helliontherapscallion's "Adrenaline Junkie" series, simply for the fact that because of them i haven't stopped thinking of inventor reader. Also let's just pretend that uh my human biology degree isn't going to waste by me writing blindness incorrectly ha ha. This is a purely fictional way that blindness works.

(REMINDER YOU IDIOT, FOR THE PURPOSES OF THIS STORY: Wilbur is 26, Techno is 20, Tommy is 16, Phil is 32, SO READER IS 22, GET IT RIGHT AND STOP MESSING UP)

As soon as Y/N's wings started developing, they were instantly the favorite child. Philza still showed his love to Wilbur, but nowhere near as much as he did to his winged child. If he had to choose between spending time with them or Wilbur, he'd pick them in a heartbeat. Wilbur was usually upset when this happened, but he had gotten used to it and had learned ways to cope with it.

This was until Techno showed up. On their doorstep. Next to a freezing Philza who had sacrificed most his warmth to the young piglin. Wilbur had his thoughts on this, yhough he kept them to himself. But Y/N couldn't be happier! This meant a new friend, AND they were right when they said that Phil was just a nice person, there wasn't a favorite child! Right?

They quickly realized that Techno wasn't their friend, as the first interaction they had together was them getting a claw to the face by the piglin. Philza just simply sighed and made sure the wound would stop bleeding before tending back to the scared pig.

Y/N was only eight at the time, they didn't know what they were feeling. But whatever it was didn't feel good.

Since that day, Y/N was the new Wilbur and 'Technoblade' was the golden child. Y/N wanted the spotlight back, so they tried hard at everything. Nothing ever worked. Nothing was better than what Techno could do. Nothing was more amazing than Techno's knowledge, or his skills in fighting, or his odd way of speaking, or those stupid things that he did, or the fact that he'd always blame it on some 'voices' in his head. That he had a God complex. That he was better than Wilbur. He was better than Tommy. He was better than you...

He was always better than you. Of course. Thats what you felt when you first met. Not amazement, not the happiness of having another friend. Of course not. It was overwhelming jealousy. But he was your brother, so you had to suck it up just like Wilbur did.

But soon enough, they came to peace with this. They moved on and worked on what they actually enjoyed, not what Philza enjoyed. Mechanics. Phil would have killed you if he learned of all the dangers that you put yourself through to consider yourself an inventor. Or.... Would he?

One day your older brother approached you with his idea to create "L'manburg". At first you couldn't help but laugh. But when it was realized that Wilbur wasn't joking and that he had already recruited Tommy, they agreed to join the fight for freedom. It was a way to pay Wilbur back for being there for them, afterall.

Y/N never imagined the true horrors that they would have to go through so they could say a 'thank you' to Wilbur. They never even truly said it to him, L'manburg was already exploded and he was killed before they could say it to him. Not even saying it to Ghostbur was good enough.

Y/N was forced to suffer through watching her loved ones go mad. Sometimes, they would try coming up with inventions that could help her friends out, and some that could help some regular problems in the world for other people. Most of them didn't work, they were only able to produce goggles that could just barely help fully blind people see. But it was a step in the right direction.

Then doomsday came. Y/N didn't want to be part of it, they didn't want to even try hurting their father and younger brother. They aren't even sure how they came to that point.

Before they knew it, they were begging the man who once gave them anything in the world for him to stop. The whole server was one big family especially everyone in the homes he was about to destroy. But what they wanted didn't matter anymore. It's what Technoblade wanted, and he wanted blood.

At the last moment, Y/N remembered Friend. Ghostbur would be devastated if Friend died.

Falling down to the ground from the small warning of TNT, Friend flooded their mind.

If they couldn't save L'Manburg, they needed to save Friend. Ghostbur wasn't the same, but Ghostbur is Wilbur. They still never said thank you. They have to show their gratitude through the miracle of Friend surviving.

And so that's what they set off to do. With no mind to their own self-preservation, Y/N got up and flew as fast as they could to save Friend. But before they could reach the sheep, a large pile of rubble fell on one of their wings, almost snapping it right off. Y/N tried to get it off but to no avail, and their whole body wasn't safe. As they saw more rubble they crouched down while covering their head with their hands and covering the undamaged wing with their body, they prepared for impact.

The last thing they could speak out was almost incomprehensible.

"Wil..... Will...... Ghosbu.............. Tommy.......... Dad............."

And then everything went black. Y/N couldn't see or feel anything. Not even after her youngest brother, the ghost of her older brother, and the three fiances of the SMP untrapped them. There was nothing.

After what felt like years for the brothers, there was finally a glimpse of Y/N waking up. But they continued to drift in and out of consciousness and whenever someone tried communicating they were completely unresponsive.

During this amount of time, it was agreed that it was in their best interest for their wings to be removed. They were both utterly useless now after being crushed and would just be extra weight with unnecessary pain that can be avoided the sooner their wings get removed. Just in case Y/N was still aware of everything going on, they were put under amnesia to lower the chance of them feeling the agony of a wing removal surgery.

Slowly Y/N began more responsive to people, but never to the same amount. Everyone that took care of them were absolutely heartbroken when they figured out part of the rock that fell on them damaged a vital organ that allowed a person to see. Luck was in fact on their side for damaging their eyesight instead of the brain, however most people didn't see it that way.

Ghostbur took it upon himself to become Y/N's seeing-eye dog. He missed having Friend nearby and Y/N was the thing he connected to the most after Friend's death.

After a few months of trying to get used to no longer having sight or wings Y/N was finally allowed back in their lab with a large amount of supervision from Ghostbur. While carefully running their hands across some unfinished inventions, Y/N comes across the goggles that they made at least a year ago. It immediately smarked a memory deep within their brain, the closest thing they had felt to seeing something ever since doomsday.

"Ghostbur, what color are these?" "Oh, they're blue. Blue's a really nice color, it reminds me of Friend. Do you remember Frien- Why are you looking down at those like that? Would you like some blue, it takes your sadness away! Wait dont put them on, the glass has cracks!" Y/N snickers as the ghost tries to take them away from them without being super forceful, "I'm already blind, what's the worst it can do?"

"Dont say that!" Ghostbur gasps, "We will find a way to get your vision back, those goggles might make it impossible!"

"I made these around the time you first showed up. I ran multiple tests with them and I was able to help a blind person see the world again. Sure, it was very blurry, hard to distinguish a lot of colors from each other, we have a different kind of blindness, and its been more that a year since I last tested them, but they might still work." Y/N explains, then they turn their back to Ghostbur and put the goggles on. This time, Ghostbut only makes a sound in protest.

Blinking, Y/N could feel the stimulation in their brain that they lost along with their eyesight come back. They moved their hands from the position they were in to put the invention on to Y/N's line of sight, and they could see their hands again. Fuzzy, shapeless, hands with a few bandaids and many scars on them.

"So, are they working?"

The voice of your brother brings Y/N back to reality and they turn to look at him. They had completely forgotten what Ghostbur looked like, only remembering vaguely what child Wilbur looked liked and a brief description of how Ghostbur's appearance differed for Wilbur's.

Y/N wraps their arms around the Ghost, not actually hugging but just doing the motion to where they would hug a person they could actually touch, as they tried to not cry in front of him.

(WOOOOOO THIS ENDED UP A LOT LONGER THAN I EXPECTED AND I'M NOT EVEN DONE YET, SO I SEPARATED IT INTO TWO PARTS)

[auroracalisto]

for the first time

summary: the reader finally sees her life in a new point of view, thanks to carlisle, who has helped her with her abusive husband, her baby girl luna, and her life in general.  

pairing: carlisle x female! married/widowed! abused! reader

word count: 1.6k words

warnings: female reader, married and eventually widowed reader, reader is abused by her husband, reader has the surname Wolf in this bc comedic reasons, reader has a child named Luna by said husband, mentions of murder, no depictions but carlisle definitely did the stabby stab (at least if that’s what you wanna assume he did), uhhh reader got them widow benefits by the end but that’s a story for another time, ALSO for some reason i put this in the year 2005 and it goes on to 2006/2007?  so this would technically be the same timeline as bella and edward meeting.  so first movie.  yes.  i love the technicalities of everything.  honestly didn’t mean for it to happen but it did so 

a/n: i have no words

Carlisle first had the honor of meeting you at your then-husband’s Christmas party.  It was December 20th, 2005.  Your child was most definitely due by the end of January.  You were quite literally glowing, and Carlisle believed you were the most beautiful thing he had seen in some time.  However, most of the beauty was because of your skill with makeup.  Without it, bruises galore would be revealed to the outside world, and your husband would not be too happy to find out that you showed off the newest shiner he gave to you. 

Even while pregnant, he did not care for your wellbeing.  Hell, he made it quite obvious that he would never care for the little girl growing in your midsection.  But even if he was a terrible prick, you decided to have this child.  Of course, maybe it would have been better for you to end the pregnancy early on.  However, a part of you didn’t want that.  A part of you wanted to have the baby and leave your husband.  Whichever order it came in would be fine.  But knowing now that it would be the latter made you nervous.  

The second time Carlisle saw you was in the middle of a grocery store, calming down your newborn baby.  Your husband had sent you out in the middle of February, just a month after giving birth.  You were alone, and everything was upsetting.  Your baby’s little cries caused your own tears to well up in your eyes.  

When the two of you made eye contact, you finally broke.  You didn’t want anyone to see you like that, and yet, here you were with your husband’s co-worker, crying in the middle of the bread aisle.  

“Mrs. Wolf, please.  Let me help you,” Carlisle softly said, leaving his buggy on the other side of you.  He came over, looking at your baby.  “I’ll get her to calm down.”

You took his word for it, allowing Carlisle to comfort your crying child.  “Please.  Don’t call me that.  [Your name] is fine.”

He watched you with soft eyes and nodded.  “And who is this?” he softly asked, looking down at the fussing infant.  Her eyes were shut and she never once had actual tears—one thing that never sat right with him was how babies couldn’t form tears until they were about two months old (sometimes even longer).  

“Luna,” you softly spoke, watching as your little girl started to calm down in his arms.  You sniffled softly, wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeve.  You should have been more careful, but you didn’t care at this point.  It was getting harder and harder to do this; if someone saw a bruise, someone saw a bruise.  

“That’s a beautiful name,” Carlisle spoke, looking back at you.  “She is very lucky to have you as a mother.”

By the third time Carlisle had properly talked to you, your husband had died.  Under mysterious circumstances, but he was gone.  And you couldn’t have been happier.  You had an idea of what had happened.  Especially when you once opened your eyes in the middle of the night to see a flash of blond hair.  But you drifted off back to sleep, not thinking anymore of it until the morning after when your husband was missing.  However, you never once said anything.  

Weeks after he had passed, you had hired a babysitter for the evening.  Carlisle’s two girls.  

And for once, you did not have to worry about the makeup covering your bruises.  In fact, you wore your makeup how you liked it instead of having to wear it to protect your dead husband.  You found yourself sitting in your car, in front of the hospital.  Alice had informed you that her adoptive father was currently at work—that he was constantly working, and he never once took a break.  

Maybe you should have just turned around.  Maybe you should have just left Washington, altogether.  But your legs started moving before you could stop them.  And once you saw Carlisle, you knew that you had to speak with him.  

You didn’t even have to say hello to him for the man to walk in your direction.  He smiled kindly at you, and you wanted to say something.  You desperately wanted to thank him for saving you, even if he never admitted it.  

But the words never found your tongue.  Your arms wrapped around the doctor, your face buried deep in his blue dress shirt and his white lab coat.  Carlisle had never been more grateful for not carrying his clipboard around.  He wrapped his arms around your body, holding you close.  

Although the two of you never said anything, one thing was clear; you were both grateful for each other’s existence.  Even if you lived vicariously through passing glances and thoughtful actions.  

Luna was nearly one by the time you decided enough was enough.  You were a widow, now.  You did not have to worry about what your husband would say.  And one thing was certain; the blond-haired doctor had your heart in more ways than one.  

He was so kind to you, always offering help and joyful smiles.  His conversations carried you through your long days and kept you awake at night as you thought of how you could tell him how you truly felt.  

But now, you knew enough was enough—you knew that you were not getting any younger, and neither was Carlisle (of course, because he was human—of course, you wouldn’t learn that until later).  You needed to talk to him.  You needed to take a course of action.  

You grabbed your keys, walking to your door.  Luna was babbling in her car seat.  You sat it down to get the door open, nearly jumping out of your skin when you saw Carlisle standing there, prepared to knock.  

He had a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand and a rather awkward smile.  

“My apologies... are you going somewhere?”

Your cheeks began to burn.  You sat your keys on the table beside your door, shaking your head.  “I was going to see you, actually.”

Luna giggled up at the man when he came into her line of vision.  She adored Carlisle.  

“Oh, that makes this easier then,” he let out a soft laugh, hesitantly holding out the flowers to you.  “These are for you.  I... I had asked Alice what your favorites were.  I hope you don’t mind.”

You smiled.  “No...  No, I don’t,” you said, clearing your throat.  You moved out of the doorway so that he could come into your house.  “I was hoping that.. well, I am hoping this now.  I’ve needed to talk to you.  For a while now.  I really, really need to just get this off my chest, you know?  I just—”

“—could I be of any assistance?” he chuckled softly.  “Perhaps I can find the words that you are searching for.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to keep your smile from forming.  “Carlisle, I’ve... loved you since before my husband died.  I know that for a fact, now.  And I... hope that you feel the same way.  About myself.  And Luna.  We’re a package deal, you know.”

He chuckled softly and nodded.  “I know that you are a package deal.  I... am very glad you feel that way, too.”

“Too?”

“Yes,” Carlisle smiled at you.  “I have loved you since the first time I have set eyes on you.”

You snorted out a laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.  “That long, huh?”

He just smiled, watching you with kind, golden eyes.  “There are many things I need to tell you, [Your name],” he said, finally shutting the front door behind of him.  He looked down at Luna and got her out of the carrier, especially when she happily reached for the man.  “Perhaps we can take this evening to talk?”

You smiled, nodding.  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but yeah.  I’d like that.”

All of you made Carlisle’s beatless heart skip.  He could only hope that it was the opposite for you (he could definitely hear how fast your heart began to beat the closer he got to you).  Luna entertained herself with the buttons on Carlisle’s shirt while the two of you talked until she fell asleep against him.  

Perhaps it was that moment that you truly knew that you were in love with Carlisle.  No—that action only fortified your love for the man.  You knew you had loved him just as long as he had claimed to love you.  And for once, you were not afraid of what love could do. 

Because you believed you loved your deceased husband, you married him.  You slowly watched him become a horrible person.  And then you had Luna with him.  Of course, that was the one good thing that came out of him.  Perhaps the chance of meeting Carlisle as well.  

But you knew that now, the love you felt for Carlisle was as real as the infant in Carlisle’s arms.  And it would never burn like your last loveless love.  

For the first time, it felt like you were seeing yourself in a new light.  You were seeing everything from a different perspective.  And Carlisle allowed that.  Carlisle helped you find that.  

Even if he hadn’t have been there, you would have still found it.  However, you knew that he made it so much easier than it would have been.  

For the first time, you knew real love.  With Luna, and now with Carlisle.  

Despite everything that had happened to you, it seemed as though the universe was finally connecting the dots.  And you couldn’t wait to see what she was going to give you, next.  

[werezmastarbucks]

coming back was a mistake

the reader bonds with kai over their shared dislike of mystic falls

kai parker x fem!reader

word count: 2494

warnings: language, the POV’s are changing

music: poa alpina by biosphere

This damn hole hasn’t changed a bit. The same old story: clean, tongue-licked glowing welcome sign. There we go. Then there will be this turn on the left... oh no, wait, bless, the road has been destroyed. The wooden white bridge connects this part of the highway with the town, and here we go. First houses, Livingstones used to live here, and their son was bullied by literally everyone at school, because he always had stupid haircuts. Word is, he’s dead. Welcome to Mystic Falls, the town where normal people can last up to one year.

Your house was still standing on the 19th November Street, cuddled by dry rose bushes. Apalling. All the other houses on the street have it together. The window sills are freshly painted and the porch is clean, the flowers are watered and cut, and then there’s this fucking outrage of a dwelling where the remains of your family reside.

You had to keep your act together but this town just infuriated you. You couldn’t understand why people would stay here when they could leave right after they’ve turned of age. What kept them? The charming crab-shaped park where everybody stored their dead bodies? The library on the main square where the entitled old lady has been residing for the last 500 years and telling you off for breathing? The blood-red clock tower dinging and donging every damn twenty minutes. No, wait, it must be the staggering fifteen streets. It must be the magic of running into your parents on the Market Street at ten am when you’re supposed to be at school. It’s the neighbors watch, the bored, jaded people’s desire to know everything about everybody. It must be all the supernatural jerks swarming here, killing everybody left and right, acting like their collective age is twenty years old. The fashion in this city has not changed since two thousand and thirteen, either. Nothing did.

The blood-red clock tower was still announcing the midnight hour through the dense hot air, the cars were still disgustingly clean like the citizens had nothing else to do except wash their cars all day long; Damon Salvatore still had the bitch expression on his face, fuming over the next this-just-in ghoul drama, pacing slowly in the living room of his ridiculous, always half-lit mansion with a glass of bourbon in his hand. Stefan was still miserable. Elena’s hair was still golden-black, smooth like a mirror, and you were still mortally tired of all this.

You could feel your negativity fill you up to your throat and eating on you as you drove up to the house and looked at it. The light was on, but nobody came out to meet you.

You were still coming once a year.

You sighed and turned off the engine, then left the car. It’s just a week. Then you can come back home and start pretending you don’t have Mystic Falls past again. The thought of going back home, running back like a rabbit, was what got you through every year.

You walked up the porch. The door wasn’t locked.

He liked this space here. The tenth row, seventeenth seat. He was like a cat, choosing the perfect spot. From here, he could see the clearing between the trees on the other side of the field, where a lady was walking her adorable huskie every evening at eight sharp. The dog was damn smart and the lady wasn’t. Kai had no idea how smart she actually was, she just didn’t look smart. The field below was empty now that it was summer and the eerie hollow feeling gave him a lot of kicks. The place that’s supposed to be full of people, literally made for big gatherings, the seats and all, empty, gave a special vibe. Looking around it, especially at the evening hour, when August was doing its best in the skies, was strangely nice. Nobody saw this side of Kai Parker when he was just sitting quietly, an expression of satisfaction on his face, on his chosen spot, and observed this quiet empty place like a little black king.

He saw somebody and went invisible in a second out of some instinct he couldn’t explain. It’s been some time since his presence caused an outcry of anguish among the party of people... a lot of time, actually. Nowadays, people would just roll their eyes. Don’t care. They’re the losers, living in this boring swamp, fidgeting with their pathetic drama every day. Kai didn’t know how they managed to tolerate themselves. And the hair! Everybody had this inexplicably perfect hair, glistening like they all wore wigs.

Oh my god.

What if they all wear wigs?!

Kai started giggling, thinking about that.

He was now looking at this girl in a crop top that matched the color of her skin. The girls do that, they wear the tops that match their skin which Kai finds very suggestive. Okay, you have all my attention.

Cruising around this unbearable place, he has familiarized with all the faces, and this one was new right away. She started running. You know how people usually jog, without a hurry, with the dumb light-hearted expressions on their faces, and the 90% of them always imagine they’re in some expensive automobile commercial. It helps them jof. This one ran. She did two tours around the field and stopped. Wrong, you’re supposed to walk or else your heart will burst. She stood, her hands on her thighs, her face up, and watched the sky. Kai had no idea why he was hiding from her, but he felt too comfortable now to manifest himself. She was listening to her music in her earphones and looking at the slowly drifting long clouds, and she looked like she was either pissed or very thirsty. Leaning a bit backwards, she just gave him the honors. The ribs were heaving, her stomach breathing for her. Her hand came up to her throat. Kai tried to picture her at the Mystic Grill, or on the main square; whether she looked similar to anybody he’s seen here; he looked at her hands and arms, the way she moved her jaw as if those pretty lilac clouds have done something to her and she was about to get even. She shook her head animalistically, getting rid of some thought. Girl, I know that. You’re trying to shake them all off through your ears, it doesn’t work. He felt for this pretty, collected lady who ran around the track like she was chasing somebody for a murder. Kai liked that kind of interaction the most; when he pretended they had connected. That they had a conversation. When nobody could argue with his illusion they had something in common.

He liked how she had her hair, a bit messy but feminine; the way she looked around dispassionately like she’s had enough of whatever shit she had going on. Like she seemed as if she was a separate entity. Her elbow pointed aside, with some kind of expectation.

Then she gave up. She put on a hoodie she’d thrown onto a first row seat and started walking up slowly. One, two three... four rows... Kai watched her curiously. He never doubted his magic. That’s right, not ever. You know.

But when she passed row nine he tilted his head. She came up to his row and started walking. Now, if she sits right on him, she will feel it. He will, too, and of course he won’t mind, but the girls usually freak out if they try to take a seat somewhere and there’s an invisible dude. Not that Kai had practiced it a lot. He just knew they didn’t like being stalked on. He didn’t really care. He doesn’t know her. If she’s a part of this town, screw her. She’s pretty up close, though, such a nice, frowning face, big eyes. She took the next seat to him and they almost rubbed shoulders. If she took off her earphones she would hear Kai breathe next to her. Instead, he was listening to slow ambient. It went well with the evening sky.

Together, they watched the huskie and the lady run around in the field behind the footbal field. Then she shivered a little in her hoodie. Kai wished he could read her mind when she started crying. When people don’t know they’re being watched, they cry in a very specific fashion. Kai was sure it wasn’t the huskie that upset her; it had something to do with her standing and watching the sky, rubbing her elbows with nervous fingers.

Or maybe she was unhappy with her running time, who gives a fuck.

You were watching this dude. The Grill did not appreciate him the way they should’ve. First of all, he was different breed. People come and go, but the type is always the same. This one was not the type. You had no idea who he was, but he was damn entertaining. Unapologetic singer. Stretching the notes like nobody was watching. Singing for the soul. He enjoyed himself the harder the more confused people looked, throwing awkward glances in his direction. His self esteem was on point as he expressed the ultimate artistic freedom through his bad singing, skipping the words masterfully and changing the melody on a whim. When the song was finally over, nobody clapped, and you felt that truly, he was the underrated artist, the local gem. Where Mystic Falls citizens cared for how others perceive them, he didn’t give a shit about it; while they side eyed their friends judging him silently, he was glowing with self-satisfaction. He was a bad singer, and a bad dancer; he chose an old song nobody knew, and did the finger guns at the DJ as he left the stage. A collective sigh of relief shuddered over the bar; you leaned over the counter, and the bartender nodded at you.

“Pass a cider to that guy. Tell him he saved my evening”.

Jerry was the name of the bartender. He was the new guy, because almost all bar people at the Grill were always human, which meant they died all the time. They all looked exactly the same though, and Jerry was no different from Evan, from seven years ago. Short dark hair, dimples, could star in American Pie. He smirked and nodded again.

The guy has just landed at the counter with a swing. He sighed happily as Jerry put the glass in front of him. You weren’t watching, because you didn’t feel like it; you made the sincere gesture of friendliness, no need to take it further. However, you should’ve known what would happen next. No good deed ever goes unpunished in this world.

You spotted him with the corner of your eye as he approached you, with the cider you ordered for him, and sat next to you.

“Well, that’s not too bad at all...” he started.

You turned to the guy - who looked rather like a boy who got stuck in his post-teenage phase - sharply.

“Please, don’t take it personal. It was not intended that way. It’s just a drink, so, drink it”.

For a second, he just watched you, as if challenging you for more talking. Then he shrugged.

“Somebody’s feeling antisociable today”.

And sipped a little from the glass.

“I usually take cocktails, the sweeter the better, just so you know”.

You sighed. A part of you knew you would regret it. But you still did it. Why? You looked in front of you, meeting your own miserable face in the reflection of the mirror wall behind the bar. The guy kept talking.

“I mean, it’s so nice to start acquiring the fan base, I guess, you can get a lot of things as a rock star. I’ve always wanted to be one”.

“You won’t be a rock star for your singing voice”, you noted.

Drinking alone at the Grill sometimes made you do weird stuff. But it was a tradition.

“Huh? You didn’t like it?”

“I enjoyed how much it confused everybody else”.

The guy expressed an ‘oof’ emotion.

“I’m sensing some xenophobia here. You hate this place, too?”

You didn’t answer. The guy sighed mockingly, as if he was pretending. He sounded like a hyperactive child, and in spite of your very self, you found him relatable.

“I say to myself every day”, he went on, in a slightly more serious voice, “Kai, today you’re leaving Mystic Falls. I’m not in the place where I can tolerate this boredom any more, you know? But this thing... keeps me here. I can’t wait to...”

You blinked and looked at him.

“Kai? Your name is Kai?”

“Uh, yeah”.

He clincked his glass on yours.

“Cheers”.

“What’s it short for?”

He didn’t look too proud saying,

“Malachai”.

You dropped your jaw.

“That is the coolest name I’ve ever heard. Malachai? Seriously?”

He lit up a little bit, straightening his back with praise.

“Yeah”.

“Dude, this is badass. Show me your ID!”

His dark eyes were laughing. You finally took a proper look of him. There was something foreign about him although he spoke very clear American English. It was a different kind of foreign: alien. Given it’s Mystic Falls, stagnating in its own revolving old routine, alien was good even if it was dangerous.

“You wanna see my ID?” he chuckled. He looked down on you with an adoring glint in his eye as though he was admiring something he saw. His reactions were inexplicable.

“Yeah, I wanna see how it’s spelt. Come on, Malachai, it’s so boring here. Show me”.

He sniffed through his nose.

“Okay”.

He had to stand up a little bit to take his ID from the back pocket of his jeans. You looked at it, visualizing his unusual name. Malachai Parker sounded fucking elite. He’s come a long way from Oregon, too. You wondered what he was doing here and was about to ask, but your glance got hooked on the year of birth.

“1972? You were born in...”

Frustration filled you slowly like lake water. Of course, the only interesting, good-looking character who’s fun enough, will be one of the messy freaks, here. You passed the card back to him.

“Are you one of them?”

Malachai didn’t look confused or insecure which further advanced your disappointment.

“What do you mean?” he asked with a grin, playing with you.

“I’m not having this tonight”.

You downed your glass, feeling earthly tired. Like the earth. The Earth, that’s billion of years old, like that.

You stood up to walk away.

“I’m not one of the vampires”, Kai chanted, turning on his seat.

You shrugged.

“Even worse”.

He watched you as you went, his eyes not leaving your back until you were out of the door. Then he realized he still didn’t have your name.

[artificialqueens]

Not Like In The Fairy Tales (But Just As Beautiful) (Crygi/Jankie) - Chaoticnachokitten

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27419959

A/N: Heyy:)) I wrote this a few months ago and completely forgot to post it lol. Thanks to @cryshillz for giving me the idea for it and @aqtanawrites for beta-ing<3

Summary: Crystal is just your average high school student, (well, maybe except her makeup and outfit choices), friendly, dreamy and fairly popular. All she wants are her friends, One Direction songs, and maybe a fairy tale esque relationship. Everything would be perfect if it wasn't for that one girl that keeps staring at her with an expression that could kill...

Literally just your typical enemies to lovers high school au:)

It was 6am on a rainy Monday morning. Crystal woke up to the sweet tunes of 'What Makes You Beautiful' by One Direction. She had the habit of using a different One Direction song as her alarm clock every day.

Especially on Mondays she just needed a bit of extra motivation to get up and get ready for school, and that particular song never failed to make her smile, including today.

She slowly got out of bed, and walked up to her closet. It was a beautiful mess of almost offensively bright, colorful clothes. Crystal firmly believed that wearing as many colors as possible was helpful to stay positive all the time. 'Plain' or 'simple' clothing was something she liked to pretend didn't even exist.

Once she was done with picking out her outfit for the day, she went into her bathroom, preparing for her favorite part of her morning routine: her makeup. Firstly, she washed her face, and then applied some products that would hopefully protect her skin from what she was about to do to it. Then, she tried to find all of her needed makeup products. Unfortunately, she had a habit of trying out new looks constantly, and for some reason her products ended up being scattered in the entire bathroom. Her parents had given up on trying to keep the bathroom organized at this point.

After finding everything she needed, which were approximately 50 products, including tons of her beloved glitter, she started with her time consuming but fun painting, blasting her OD playlist to stay in a good mood. Her thoughts drifted around for a bit, eventually settling on the memories of how her high school had tried to get her to dress 'appropriately' and to stop her 'clown like' makeup. At first the teachers had assumed that she would get teased because of her looks, but they had been very wrong. Crystal had such a fun and loveable personality that no one really said anything negative about her, in fact, the only people who teased her about her makeup were her best friends, who obviously didn't mean it. Crystal was friends with just about everyone, except one person.

Crystal quickly tried to think of something else, she didn't want to ruin her morning by thinking about the only person she didn't like.

So, after the teachers had realized that no other student would tell her to stop with her makeup, they tried to threaten her by sending her to the principal's office multiple times. But, since she kept arguing about how she needed to express herself, and because her grades were good, the teachers gave up and her style was tolerated eventually. At least her art teacher loved her creativity.

Crystal checked herself out in the mirror one last time. Her long, curly hair was brushed nicely, it looked all shiny and soft like usual, she was wearing a full face of makeup, around three times the amount of what an average student would wear, and her outfit complemented her makeup nicely. Afterwards she went on her way to her high school, which happened to be just a few minutes away from her home. As always, she had her earphones in so she could continue to listen to her playlist, which she had named 'positive vibes'.

Before entering the big, old, dull building, she removed her earphones as electronic devices were strictly forbidden and had to be stored in the school bags, otherwise a teacher had the right to take them away. It was a stupid and annoying rule, but other than about her personal style, Crystal didn't like getting in trouble, so she just accepted it.

Crystal's morning had been pretty good so far, but of course, the first person she saw in the hallway was the one she didn't like. Her name was Gigi Goode, and, Crystal usually didn't like to swear, the only word that could be used to describe her was a complete bitch. Now, sadly, Gigi was gorgeous, everyone was jealous of her looks. Even after a long P.E lesson she still managed to look perfect, not even a single makeup particle out of place. Gigi exclusively wore expensive makeup and clothes, always looking like she was about to be on the cover of Vogue or something. Not only that, but she was smart too, a straight A student, nothing less ever. She regularly engaged in class, the teachers often used her as a good example. But beyond that, Gigi was also the most conceited person Crystal knew. She seemed to lack any kind of empathy or friendliness. The only thing she seemed to care about was herself and her reputation.

She wasn't really friends with anyone, everyone was intimidated by her. She didn't seem to care for friendships anyway. But Gigi just seemed to hate Crystal for no reason. Everytime Crystal was near Gigi she looked at the ground to avoid the look. Gigi liked to glare at Crystal like she was something unsightly, like a stain on her clothes or a disgusting bug or something along those lines. Nothing out of the ordinary, except today, if anything, Gigi looked at her with an even meaner expression than usual.

"Maybe her favorite brand of lipstick got discontinued,"  Crystal thought to herself as she searched for her friends, all she had to do was follow the sound. And sure enough, just a few meters away she spotted Jan and Jackie, who were talking about something. Jan seemed to be even more enthusiastic than usual, and Jackie looked slightly concerned.

"...it's a genius plan, I promise! And very easy to execute. We have to show them that they just belong together."

Jan was nearly screaming the last sentence, loud enough to hear clearly for Crystal who was just waiting for their conversation to end as she didn't want to interrupt them. But then, Jan saw Crystal and monitored for her to come.

"Genius plan? Jan, look, I love you very much, but the last time you said that, and canceled our movie night for it-"

"You're still mad about that?" Jan asked with a hint of amusement.

"Let me finish. Last time you had one of your 'genius ideas' you broke into the school with Nicky to save the frogs we were meant to dissect in biology."

"Well, obviously my plan worked because the frogs are now free, and we didn't have to dissect anything!"

Jackie sighed, fighting the smile caused by the adorableness of her girlfriend, and shook her head fondly.

"And I'm very happy about that. However, you and Nicky got detention for a whole month and only very narrowly avoided legal consequences. And you were grounded forever!"

Jan looked at Jackie with huge eyes.

"But..the frogs..they were worth all of that."

Jackie looked at Crystal who had just been listening to the fairly weird conversation. Though that kind of stuff wasn't uncommon for Jan and Jackie at all.

"Crystal, I'm dating an idiot."

Crystal just laughed and then shyly looked at Jan. The girl looked back at her with mock anger. Then she turned her attention back to Jackie.

"Oh, so I'm the idiot now? I would like to remind you of the time when I was still grounded, and you decided to do it like they do it in the movies and attempted to climb up my house to get into my room through the window, just because you wanted to see me..it's not like you see me at school literally every day."

"It was Saturday. And we spent some..quality time that day."

"That was after I quite literally had to pull you up myself after you almost fell down."

Jackie was about to respond when the bell rang as annoyingly as ever, announcing that the first class was about to start. Jan, Jackie, Crystal and, unfortunately for Crystal, Gigi were all in the same class. Jan attempted to leave, but she was pulled back by Jackie.

"No girl, no skipping classes anymore. You'll just get into trouble again."

"But..." Jan started.

"No buts. You're coming with us. Do you need a bit of..extra motivation?"

Jan smirked, getting the hint, and then nodding excitedly.

Jackie hugged her, and then placed a kiss on Jan's soft lips. A few seconds later they were full on making out.

Around a minute later the bell rang again, and the two of them broke apart. Jackie looked at Crystal, who was now staring at the ground, blushing, apologetically.

"Crys, oh my God, I'm so sorry you had to witness that."

"You're not sorry," Jan disagreed.

"It's fine, I'm used to it by now, I know how gross you guys are," Crystal smiled.

"Anyway, let's go, otherwise we'll be late for class," Jackie said in a slightly nervous tone. She hated being late.

Jan sighed.

"And I'm dating the teacher's pet."

Before Jan could try to run away again, Jackie grabbed the girl's hand and dragged her along.

On the way to class, Crystal couldn't help but feel jealous of her friends. Jan and Jackie were just such a cute couple. It wasn't like she was attracted to either of them, it was more that she had the desire to experience the same kind of love they had for each other. She wanted that kind of fairytale fantasy cute relationship, with the occasional playful teasing.

The three of them finally reached the classroom, just in time. Crystal sat down in her usual spot, and got out her needed school supplies. Since the teacher surprisingly wasn't there yet, she checked her phone, scrolling through her social media. Since there wasn't anything too interesting, she switched it off soon again and looked around for a bit. To her horror, she noticed that Gigi was looking at her. But something was weird about it. Crystal could have sworn that Gigi had looked at her with an almost friendly expression...probably as friendly as Gigi was able to, before using the look again. A few seconds later Gigi looked away again. Crystal missed that Gigi was blushing.

Crystal suddenly felt like she had invaded Gigi's personal space. It was stupid, but she felt her face heat up. To try and calm down, she ran a hand through her hair to fix it, even though nothing was wrong with it in the first place before opening her notepad, and started doodling tiny flowers and animals in it so she had something to focus on.

Just when she had calmed down enough to feel as comfortable as she could while being at school, the English teacher entered the room, greeting the students. Crystal looked up for a minute, listening to what the teacher was talking about, before going back to doodling. She was almost always more focused in class while drawing. It was accepted by most teachers, and a real blessing in art class.

Today was different. For some reason, she kept thinking about Gigi, and the way she had seen the unusual behavior of her today. It honestly wouldn't have been a big deal at all, but she had never seen Gigi without that I-accidentally-bit-into-a-lemon glance, and instead looked at Crystal like she was an actual person. Thinking about it caused Crystal to feel an odd, but definitely not unpleasant sensation spreading from her heart. Could it be..?

"No. No, definitely not, not her," she told herself before forcefully turning her attention back to the teacher.

"Okay, so today we'll start with a new topic: presentations. They are very important, you will have to do one in pretty regardless of where you want to work in your later life. Now, we'll work on your confidence first, therefore the topic of the presentation will be up to you. And because teamwork is very important as well, you'll work in groups of two."

The teacher noticed that Jan had raised her hand.

"Yes, Jan?"

"How about we get paired up randomly? Later on in our life we don't get to choose either who we'll have to work with, so this might be some good practice."

The teacher nodded, impressed by Jan's level of maturity, and surprised because the girl usually didn't participate that much.

The rest of the class seemed okay with that idea as all of them got along quite well. Jackie looked at Jan with a surprised look, Jan smiled at her before mouthing "all part of my plan, don't worry."

The teacher resumed.

"Great idea, actually, thanks Jan. Okay, everyone, please take out a piece of paper and write down your names. Then fold it and bring it to my desk."

Jan raised her hand again.

"Yes?"

"Can I please read out the teams?"

"Yeah, sure."

The next few minutes were spent by people asking for paper and pens and then writing down all of the names. Jan hastily scribbled the three letters of her own name before turning her attention to Crystal. She was writing down her name on that obnoxious rainbow colored paper she adored, making the next step of Jan's plan easier.

Then she looked at Gigi. She was using some expensive art paper she usually used to draw gorgeous pictures on. It even felt expensive, so spotting it later on shouldn't be too hard either. Jan couldn't quite believe that her plan was going so smoothly.

Jackie was ready to bring her paper to the teacher's desk, but Jan stopped her before she could do so.

"Wait, I want to be paired up with you. Mark it with a smiley or something," Jan whispered.

Jackie smirked before doing so.

"Fine, miss we-should-work-with-different-people-to-gain-new-experience."

"You'll understand later."

After every piece of paper was on the desk, Jan mixed all of them up to keep up the illusion that every pair would be selected in a fair and completely random way..

Crystal felt someone looking at her. When she looked around, it was Gigi once again. This time she was sure she had seen Gigi's initial expression which had looked almost dreamy before she was back to looking mean again. When Crystal didn't look right away again, Gigi even looked insecure for a split second before hissing "what the hell are you looking at?" before looking away herself.

Crystal was shocked. Had she just seen the usually overly confident Gigi Goode looking...insecure?

She didn't even have time to process everything that had just happened as Jan, who had already paired up quite a few people, called her name.

"Okay so Crystal and.."

Jan tried to make it seem like she was just randomly picking out a piece of paper.

"Gigi."

Crystal's jaw dropped. She didn't dare to look at Gigi. That was the worst team she had ever been in. She was shocked to the point of shivering. She felt her blood running both hot and cold at the same time. And just when she had tried to reason that she could just do her part of the assignment alone, and would just have to do the presentation with Gigi, the teacher spoke up again.

"To ensure you'll actually work together, you will get a grade as a team instead of individual ones. Before you can go, please note that you now have one week to prepare. Since I already wrote down the teams, please don't change them up again. Okay, that's it. Goodbye, see you all tomorrow."

Everyone except Crystal packed up and got ready to leave. Gigi, for once, looked unsettled and left as soon as she could in order to keep up her usual act and not show any emotions. Crystal, on the other hand, was too shocked to do anything other than staring off into space. This was officially the worst day in her life. There was no way she would survive working together with someone who looked like she was about to stab Crystal as soon as they were alone.

Jan pulled her out of her almost trance like state by waving her arms in front of Crystal.

"Hey, are you okay? You don't look good, you're so pale out of the sudden."

Crystal looked at Jan desperately.

"Okay?? No, I'm not 'okay' at all. In case you missed it, I have to work with Gigi out of all people and I can't switch partners...what am I going to do?"

Jan decided to act like she was sorry. In her opinion that drastic measure was necessary to make Crystal and Gigi talk for once, and hopefully that would be enough to make them see that they like each other. Jan had seen the way Gigi looked at Crystal when the latter wasn't aware of it, and she knew that Crystal had a hard time noticing and admitting that she liked someone, due to the fact that she once had her heart broken badly before, and it had taken lots of time and support from her friends to get over it. So, complaining about someone more often than usual was Crystal's way to try and suppress her feelings.

"I'm so sorry Crys, but I'm sure it's going to be fine. And if she's mean to you, I'll make her pay for it, I promise. In fact, I still have that weird hair dye that's supposed to dye your hair purple, but it turned mine green and it took an eternity to get it out again, remember that?"

Crystal forced herself to giggle. She did feel a bit better knowing that Jan would help her if things didn't go smoothly.

"Thanks, Janice, I appreciate it. And honestly, the green didn't look that bad. Besides, you obviously care about green frogs enough to risk legal consequences, so dyeing your hair to match them is just the natural next step."

"I probably shouldn't have told anyone that story, but I would have never thought that saving countless innocent lives would ever be used against me, at least not that frequently. But anyway, ready to leave now?"

Crystal sighed. She really didn't want to see Gigi anymore, at least today.

"What are the chances of Jackie killing you for skipping class one more time with me?"

Jan laughed.

"Unfortunately too high to risk it. Besides, you won't be able to avoid her all week, and if you don't want a bad grade you will have to work with her. Once again, I'm very sorry."

"Okay, fine. And don't apologize Jan, it's not your fault."

Jan had to suppress a smirk. If only she knew..

The rest of the school day surprisingly wasn't that terrible. Gigi didn't look at Crystal at all, not even once, instead she was fully concentrated on engaging as much as usual in each class. Crystal on the other hand didn't care about anything else that moment, she was trying and failing to come up with a way that would make working with Gigi okay. And she sure as hell wouldn't be the one to start the conversation. Since Gigi wasn't satisfied with anything less than an A, she probably would be the one to approach Crystal anyway. Hopefully.

When the school bell rang again, this time to indicate that the day was over, Crystal couldn't wait to get home, she carelessly stuffed her school supplies into her rainbow colored bag and nearly stormed out of the school without even saying goodbye to any of her friends. For once she didn't care about being nice and polite, she just wanted to go home, crawl into her bed, cry, listen to music, and ignore the world around her until she would feel better.

But today some higher force seemed to have something against her. Once she was back home, laying in her bed comfortably, surrounded by her plushies, she decided to check her phone before listening to music. It turned out to be a big mistake. She saw that she had received a message by an unknown number. Usually she would have just ignored and blocked it, but she couldn't. The number had a profile picture, and Crystal immediately recognized it. A pretty girl with perfect skin and shiny brunette hair. Gigi.

She decided that she deserved a break from everything that had happened today, so she turned on airplane mode so she wouldn't be disturbed by anyone anymore, put in her earphones once again, and then clicked on her playlist. She proceeded to close her eyes, trying not to think about anything, just listen to the music instead. She wasn't able to calm down though, even after 30 minutes of trying. The message she had refused to read out of fear earlier seemed to be haunting her. She decided to finally read it.

'Hey, it's Gigi.

It seems like we'll have to work together. I'm sure you're just as interested in a good grade as I am, so I think we should talk things out. Hating each other while trying to give a good presentation will probably not work out, plus we haven't even decided on a topic. So come to my place at 6pm, here is the address.'

Crystal checked the time. She had about an hour left. According to Google, getting to the location would take 45 minutes. She didn't want to make Gigi mad now that it seemed like they would maybe be able to finally work their problems out. She hastily jumped out of her bed, and ran into the bathroom to touch up her makeup as soon as possible.

Thankfully it wasn't terribly smudged or anything, so she was able to go on her way just a few minutes later. That way she would even have a bit of extra time in case she didn't find Gigi's house or if she needed some time to prepare herself mentally for actually ringing the doorbell, which was very likely going to be the case. Crystal had a pretty bad sense of orientation.

Meanwhile, Gigi was anxiously pacing around in her room, checking her makeup and outfit every time she passed a mirror. She had a lot of them in her room. Gigi knew that she was a mess on the inside right now, so it was even more important for her not to show it on the inside. She hoped that her facade that she had built up over the years was enough to hide her emotions from Crystal. The truth was, she wasn't as confident as she pretended to be. In fact, Gigi was a very insecure girl, afraid that someone would see right through her, able to tell just how weak she actually was on the inside. She was scared that people would make fun of her, so she just pushed everyone who tried to befriend her away. Being friends with people had never worked out in the past, instead she had been used and then she had been left with low self esteem and trust issues. Eventually she decided she wouldn't get hurt by people ever again, and that was when she started wearing expensive clothes to intimidate people and flawless makeup as it made her feel like a completely different person, beautiful and confident. Her makeup was like a mask for her as well, a constant reminder that she needed to keep up her facade to remain safe.

Gigi's thoughts were interrupted by the piercing sound of the doorbell. She checked her makeup for what seemed like the 100th time that day, and then went to open the door.

"Hey," Crystal greeted her, looking as nervous and anxious as Gigi felt. For some reason it made her feel better.

"Hey. Thanks for coming. Come in." Gigi managed to keep her usual cool tone despite the fact that she was extremely nervous.

Crystal did as she was told. Unexpectedly, Gigi's house was both huge, almost as big as a mansion, and the furniture looked extremely expensive and beautiful. But since Crystal was also a nervous mess, she wasn't able to focus on anything properly.

Gigi led her into her room (a gigantic one, beautiful and organized, girly but not at all kitschy) and monitored for Crystal to sit down on her bed. Crystal, again, did as she was told, it was her only option as she couldn't even think straight. Gigi carefully sat down next to her. She didn't look at Crystal because she felt like she would break if she did, and instead stared at her ceiling.

"Okay so, I guess I'll explain why I behave the way I do around you. The truth is, I don't hate you. I know you think I do, but I don't. In fact, I'm jealous of you."

Crystal couldn't believe her ears. First of all, Gigi talking about her feelings? And most importantly: How could Gigi Perfect Goode be jealous of her? Crystal bit her tongue to remain silent, the question was burning on her tongue, but she felt like talking wasn't a good idea right now.

"You're so lucky. You get to be yourself. You can wear and act however you want because you're so cute and loveable and everyone wants to be your friend."

Did Gigi just call me cute?

"You don't know what it means to constantly act like a bitch to keep people away from me. And all of that because I'm scared. I'm so scared of being judged. Of being used, of being hurt. I can't handle another person lowering my self esteem to the point where I can't leave the house anymore. It took me months to get where I am today. Why do you think I check my hair and makeup every few minutes? Why do you think I keep staring at you?"

Gigi was getting so emotional that she had to stop talking as her eyes were starting to get as glossy as her perfectly applied lip gloss. She tried taking deep breaths to calm down, but that just made everything worse.

"This is so stupid, I'm sorry…"

"Gigi, please don't call your emotions stupid. It's okay to express your feelings,you've been ignoring them for far too long already. I promise I won't tell anyone. And I know what being hurt feels like, believe me, and being able to talk about my feelings helped me a lot."

Perhaps it were Crystal's words, perhaps Gigi's feelings were too much for her to bottle up anymore, but just a minute later she found herself bawling her eyes out while Crystal had her arms wrapped around her in a protective and comforting way that Gigi actually felt like it was okay for her to cry and let out everything. It was weird, they didn't even really know each other, and surely she wouldn't have expected the meeting with Crystal to go like that at all, but strangely enough it felt so right.

After a solid ten minutes of crying, Gigi was finally starting to calm down. She decided that now, since she had told Crystal her secret already and she had also cried in Crystal's arms, which had probably ruined her pretty makeup/ facade, she had nothing to lose anymore. She freed herself from Crystal's grip, cupped the girl's face, and proceeded to kiss her like she had been wanting to for months. She was fast and aggressive, all of her emotions went into it.

Crystal didn't even think, the kiss felt more than right, so she kissed back just a second later with the same intensity to match Gigi's energy.

It wasn't like the start of her dream fairy tale beginning of a relationship, quite the opposite, actually. Gigi was still crying, Crystal's face was getting wet from the tears, but in that moment she could have cared less about the 'perfect' start of a relationship. What she had right here was just as perfect to her, if not more.

After what could have been seconds, minutes, or even days, both of them were blown away by the intensity of the moment that time didn't matter anymore, they slowly broke apart.

"Crystal I'm so sorry. I didn't know what came over me," Gigi started all of the sudden. She was breathing way too fast.

"Shh, calm down. My only question is, did you mean the kiss? Be honest."

Gigi nodded, looking away.

"I meant it too when I kissed you back."

Gigi looked like a weight had been lifted off of her. Then, she seemed to have an idea.

"I know this is incredibly early, but uhm..I'm alone and my parents won't come back until in a few days, do you maybe want to stay with me for the night? I just want to find out more about the girl I've been secretly admiring for the past few months."

Crystal smiled softly.

"Of course. I would love to know more about the girl that has been hiding every emotion for..I don't even know how long. Tell me what you're feeling, every single one, I want to know all about them. And please don't ever be afraid again to show people your vulnerable side. The world may be terrible, but not every single person is, I promise."

"You're the prime example of that," Gigi said quietly.

"You're still treating me like this even though I was such a terrible person to you...thank you so much Crystal."

With that, they intertwined their fingers, slowly getting closer until their lips touched again. This time it felt different, but just as amazing. It was all slow and tender, and neither of them wanted the moment to end. Maybe it was like in the kitschy fairy tales after all.

[tinycrow]

I don’t believe in miracles

Chapter 2: Discovery

:: Unknown Location ::

It had officially been half a decade since Mission City. The autonomous robotic organism and caretaker named Ray was no longer finding ‘babies’ that were sparked by the entity known as the All-Spark. She hoped that this was because she had collected them all, rather than the babies dying off or being otherwise ‘acquired’ by another agency. With no real reason to risk being seen, she spent most of her time raising the sparklings at her home base. This was fine, she thought. She enjoyed seeing her sparklings grow to become upstanding workers in what was now a bustling, little city.

There were massive infrastructure changes that had been going on since the events in Egypt. There were 5 major underground tunnels that stretched across their territory. 3 of five tunnels led to an underground bunker that would hopefully protect any humans/non-humans that needed to wait out an attack on their fair city. It wouldn’t survive a direct hit from a nuclear explosion, but it was placed in such a way that it would hopefully not be targeted. It would keep warm and safe any occupants for a couple years. Other than the bunker, the tunnels provided a warmer route between buildings in the city, especially for humans. Still, it wasn’t uncommon for non-human residents to take up the role as “taxi” for other, smaller friends aboveground.

Because of this shift in foot traffic, non-humans were able to speed through the streets, rarely having to stop. Street racing was becoming a problem in recent years, to Max and Ray’s chagrin. There had been ongoing talk of incorporating bigger ‘bots into Max’s team in order to better police the streets, but ‘bots reaching near Ray’s size tended to be rare, considering how young all the other ‘bots in the city actually were.

There were also more places in the city to just hang out as well as enjoy food and drink. The greenhouse now sported a nice café as well as a plethora of flowers and other plant life.

“Okay. We’re going for a drive.”

“It’s... cold out,” Ray lamely refused, shoulders hunching slightly as she sat at a desk to read reports on her large data pad.

“It’s always cold out. We live in the freaking An-“

“I’m busy.”

“I know for a fact that you’ve already read through the security and finance reports. The rest can wait.”

“My babies-“

“-Are being taken care of by a team of now fully-trained humans and ‘bots. Besides, you don’t usually attend them at this hour anyway. We won’t be gone that long.”

Ray was silent and contemplative as she stared downward at Linda Davies, her long-time friend. Back when she was still roaming America, the red-headed woman had been one of her only companions, worried only about helping them both survive the next day. Linda was the one to suggest the novel idea of creating a place to call their own in a place outside the jurisdiction of any opposing government. It was a crazy idea from a possibly crazy friend, but then again, Ray’s life on Earth wasn’t sane from the very start.

Linda glared back in defiance. “You need a break. Enjoy some sunshine. Talk with friends.”

The ‘bot contemplated arguing with Linda more. They both knew, however, that Ray would be going with Linda. With a sigh, Ray put away the data pad and stood.

“Inside the city, or...?”

“I’ve got my eyes on someplace warmer.”

==

:: California, America ::

It was a much different experience, driving at a sedate/normal pace along with the rest of human-driven traffic. Ray didn’t mind it, but Linda seemed peeved as she shifted irritably in the front passenger seat. Perhaps she was too hot? Ray checked the temperature of the cabin and found it to be at a comfortable level with her cooling unit already on. Maybe she wanted some music? She pulled a playlist from the internet that seemed pretty popular.

Linda’s mood barely improved.

“What’s wrong, Linda?”

“I hate traffic.” She grumped, “How about... we stop for coffee and then drive farther from the center of town?”

The holoform in the driver’s seat frowned in thought.

“I guess... Though I feel less safe the farther from the ground bridge we are.”

“We won’t be long.”

==

An hour passes, and the two friends were driving along into the California countryside with the windows down and a coffee in Linda’s hand. Music was blaring from Ray, pulled from various sources as well as internal storage. They didn’t speak much, just enjoyed the feeling of being on the road again.

“Ah, I missed this,” the not-so-young woman said nostalgically, “I love our home, but I wish we had this kind of scenery, you know?” Linda griped with a smile.

“I agree. California’s nice. Actually... Earth is very nice.”

Linda smacked the dashboard lightly, causing the holoform to flicker out for a millisecond. The black-haired and green-eyed holoform grimaced with a small admonishment.

“Sorry. But you talk like you weren’t born here.”

Ray seemed to pause at that. “I suppose it is weird.” She hummed, and explained, “Sometimes it feels that way, you know? Being so different from the literal billions of humans that populate this planet.”

“And your time... before you changed?”

“Well...” The holoform exhaled harshly, “I lived a pretty lonely life. Other than the times I would help out local charities, nothing really made me happy. I’m pretty satisfied with where we are now, and I want to continue working in making life at home better for all of us. For all our kind.”

It was Linda’s turn to be thoughtful. She slowly formed the words, “You really want to open our home to the aliens.”

“Yes.” The answer came subdued but serious.

A familiar car turned onto their road.

The radio turned off.

“Linda, don’t be alarmed.”

Said woman’s back straightened. “Okay, we’ve gotta talk about ways to deliver bad news. What’s wrong?”

“That car behind us...  is one of the aliens we were discussing.”

Linda looked into the rear-view mirror and saw the silver sports car quickly gaining ground on them.

“Fuck no, he don’t.” Linda looked at the holoform of her friend, very displeased expressions on both their faces, “Can’t you go faster?”

“That depends. Are you going to throw that coffee away?”

“Is this really the time to worry about— “

“THROW IT.”

“OKAY!”

The coffee cup went sailing out the window and into the dry, yellow grass. The moment it hit the ground, Ray’s engine revved and her speed started steadily but quickly climbing. Because the road was fairly straight most of the way, she wasn’t worried about having to suddenly turn 90 degrees.

~ Ray and Linda to Shawn and Max. Linda and I are being followed. I need an emergency ground bridge. Are either of you at the console? ~

~ Shawn, here. I’m not, but I can be. Where are you, Sunshine? ~

~ Ray. We are in the California countryside. I don’t want to lead them back to the warehouses. Max, are you— ~

There was a huff of exhaustion as Max chimed in. ~ Max. I’m at the console. Send your coordinates. ~

Ray sent her coordinates as well as those of the car behind her. She told them how fast she was going.

Max swore. ~ There’s no way you can slow down, but if I send a ground bridge, you’re going to be a pancake on the building wall. I’ll look up exits. ~

Linda, hearing the conversation in her earpiece, gained a look of grim revelation.

~ Linda, here. I know none of us want to consider it, but we may need to fight. ~

Max was dismissive of the idea. ~ There are many reasons that won’t work. For one, they’re much more skilled at fighting than we are. There’s also the fact that they may be getting backup, while we don’t have anyone to backup Ray, unless we use the children— ~

Ray’s hackles rose at the thought, and she interrupted, ~ You are not sending my children after me. ~

Max sighed, sounding like he’d heard this, many, many times before.

~ I wasn’t going to. Look, there’s a gentle turn coming up, if you can pull a miracle and lose him, I can send a bridge to Point A. ~ Max sends Ray coordinates to a nearby farm.

~ Or to Point B. ~ He adds a new pointer further away.

~ Keep me apprised. ~ Max said, finally.

Ray affirmed the decision and planned. Knowing Linda would not approve, she kept it mostly to herself. She turned off the holoform, wanting to reserve processing power. It caught Linda’s attention.

“Ray?”

“Do you trust me?”

Linda narrowed her eyes at the dashboard, hearing her voice echo throughout the cabin.

“Do you trust me?”

==

~ Prime, that strange, unknown Cybertronian appeared again. They appear to have a human with them. I’m following them. ~

~ The human must be returned unharmed. Send your coordinates and we will block their escape routes. You are not to attack while they have the human. ~

~ Understood. ~

==

Ray took the gentle, right turn with slightly less speed but fully screeching tires. She would not let her friend come to harm. If this was to end in a confrontation, she would see her friend home, safe and sound with her people.

The dilapidated barn designated as Point A was coming up fast, and she swerved violently as she skidded to a halt, kicking up a massive storm of dust and dirt. She popped the door open. Linda jumped out, expecting a fight to happen. Just as expected, Ray transformed into her bipedal form, stance loose but looking vaguely like she was ready to fight.

~ Lin’, run to the barn and get that bridge open. ~

~ On it! ~

As the dust cleared, Linda had disappeared into the barn. Ray stepped cautiously forward, wanting to put distance between Linda and the other ‘bot. The silver car drifted in, transformed, and pulled out their blade all in one well practiced movement.

“Release the human, Decepticon, and I will let you live.”

Ray attempted to stall for time. “Not even a hello? A name? I’m afraid you got me at a disadvantage, sir.”

He stepped forward predatorily. She took a hesitant step back.

“Don’t play games with me, ‘con.”

~ It’s open! Hey, Max, wha—hey! Let me go! Ray! ~

Ray cut the transmission with some guilt, and opened a silent communication with Max.

~ Thanks, Max. ~

~ You realize the consequences of what you’re about to do, right? ~

~ I do. I leave my fate in your and our council’s hands. ~

“Well?”

Ray raised her hands slowly in surrender. With determination and serenity, she watched as a semi raced up to his comrade and transformed into bipedal form beside him. She blinked her optics at the new weapon pointed at her.

“I am no Decepticon.”

Sideswipe sneered, “Likely story. What were you doing with that human, then?”

“We were enjoying coffee and a drive through the California countryside,” she said calmly, and at the looks of disbelief, she clarified unnecessarily, “Oh, she was drinking coffee. I find no nutritional value in it.”

“Where is the human?” Optimus asked, getting back to the crux of the matter.

“Oh, back home I’m assuming. Max came by to pick her up.”

“Who is Max?”

“He’s chief of security for a rather large community of people. Are you going to arrest me, officers?”

Optimus gave a look to Sideswipe. Sideswipe resisted grumbling and cautiously approached the possibly deranged Ray, who had yet to draw a weapon.

“You are to follow us to an extraction point. If you deviate from the course, we will be forced to subdue you.”

“Alright, if you insist. Don’t stare at my bumper, I’m quite shy.”

The two mechs stared at her, and then glanced at each other.

‘Taking them off guard would be more fun if I wasn’t so terrified for what the future holds,’ she thought, and she thought of the children she probably wouldn’t be seeing in a very long time. She thought of the danger they could be in if things didn’t go well.

She focused on the details of the two mechs in front of her, hoping to ground herself, and pushed her fears down. She followed one mech and was in turn followed by the other.

==

A pacific Ray sat, essentially blinded in most senses, in what seemed to be a place for general storage. They had temporarily cut off her sight and other various sensors, leaving her with hearing and what was the robotic equivalent to touch. She had guessed that her captors did not have a designated holding area for non-human prisoners (a brig), and to keep their own secrets safe, deemed it necessary to take these precautions. She tried to be mad about it, but a large part of her understood; the Autobots and the humans associated with them were looking for Decepticons, and most Decepticons would rather die than be taken prisoner. Shuddering in fear, she admitted being blinded and constantly guarded wasn’t the worst that could’ve happened to her.

She sang a slow, crooning melody to pass the time and ease any anxiety.

Watching nearby were a pair of cold, blue optics that shuttered briefly at the sound. Memories from long, long ago of similar songs sung to them as a youth slipped into their awareness. The owner of these blue optics resisted the feelings of compassion and sympathy that threatened to take them off guard.

==

In a room far from the femme’s prison, the Autobots (barring one) were in a serious discussion.

“The femme certainly doesn’t act like any Decepticon I’ve seen,” Ironhide admitted.

“And of course, there’s no insignia showing which faction,” Sideswipe said, “Though she did run when she saw us. That’s enough cause for me.”

Optimus rumbled in thought, “Ray associates with humans. For most Decepticons, that would be beneath them.”

A human soldier also piped up, “What about her eye colour? Don’t they usually have red eyes?”

“The colour of one’s optics do not necessarily mean anything. Many Decepticons you have seen may have had red, but there have been those on our side with red as well. Hers are green, which are rarer, but it does not hold any specific meaning,” Optimus explained for the humans’ benefit. “Ratchet, what are your thoughts?”

“The femme has been compliant in every procedure taken to secure her as our prisoner. She has no internal weapons system, however she willingly offered information about her subspace storage containing a rifle, which I have disabled access to as well.”

No internal weapons? Not even a blaster? What kind of warrior disables themselves by not acquiring a proper weapon, especially in a war? The room erupted in chatter.

“Quiet.” The Autobot leader ordered, and then urged Ratchet to continue.

“I have been analyzing the unique radiation that she emits and can come to no conclusions yet. I will note however, that there’s something familiar about it.”

“Familiar, how?” Optimus inquired curiously.

“I cannot say for certain,” Ratchet demurred.

“Keep me updated,” their leader acquiesced, to which the chief medical officer just nodded.

In a quick private comm with Ratchet, Optimus asked, ~ Might I assume you do not want to broadcast whatever it is that is ‘familiar’? ~

~ You are correct. The radiation emitting from the Femme seems to react uniquely with the materials immediately surrounding her. On a molecular level, they are... moving unnaturally. ~

This news surprised Optimus, as this ability was something entirely new. ~ Could it be a new weapon? ~

~ It is hard to say. However, it’s familiar to one of the abilities of an entity we all know of and have lost. ~

~ ... We will talk about this later. ~

~ Indeed. ~

“For now, we will keep her under constant guard. Ratchet, you will continue studying her. All of you are to report any suspicious behaviour. If that is all, you are dismissed.”

==

One week after capture...

She heard a particular set of footsteps approaching and looked up with a genuine curve of her dermas (lips). She recognized those footsteps that had been visiting her almost every day since her capture. She greeted him sweetly.

“Ratchet.”

Ratchet didn’t bother hiding his pleased expression, knowing she couldn’t see.

“You can leave,” he told the guarding Autobot.

Arcee’s optics shuttered and opened again slowly in shock. “Ratchet?”

“Don’t worry, Arcee, she’s not going anywhere. But I technically count as her guard while I am here,” he explained, “so let me work in peace.”

Arcee, aware of Ratchet’s legendary temper, took the out as she saw it gracefully. “Alright. I’ll check in with you in one earth hour.”

“See you later, Arcee!” Ray smiled at the air, not quite sure where Arcee was as the femme was light-footed or on wheels? It was hard to tell.

When Arcee left, Ray turned to where she thought Ratchet was. A puzzled look and an inquiry were sent up to his left shoulder plate, “Is there a reason you sent her away?”

Ratchet settled himself in for a long conversation. There was the squeak of metal compacting slightly as he assumingly sat down on a crate. Ray was already sitting on the concrete with her legs tucked to the side. Her back strut straightened in attention as this event was different to the quiet study and offhand questioning he usually does. Though Ratchet had been nothing but gentle—if grumpy at times—with her, she wondered if that was about to change. Her spark quickened in a small niggling of anxiety.

It must’ve shown in her expression, because he quickly said, “You’re not going to come under any harm in my care, I assure you.”

Ray relaxed slightly, but still had her doubts as she asked, “Is something the matter?”

“I’ve been talking with Optimus and we both agree that it’s time to consider long term plans for your stay here. You have proven yourself to be non-hostile as well as open to our prodding at you and your radiation field. Such good behaviour does not warrant what could be considered torture by sensory deprivation.”

She simply stared blindly at him for a second before slowly admitting, “It would be nice... to see whom I am talking to.”

It only took around 15 minutes to re-enable the appropriate sensors, and he was being intentionally slow and careful. The first thing she saw was thick, yellow-plated servos. When they pulled away, her green optics were wide and bright as they took in the much taller mech. He was sitting, but by her estimates he would probably be at least 5 feet taller than she was. She vocalised a high whistle and winked.

“Cheeky brat. I bet you and Bumblebee would get along just fine.”

Ray took a moment to look at one of her kind captors. She knew the aliens were well armoured and gunned; she had seen it on the day of her capture. However, even the kind medic that had been in her company for days now seemed alarmingly well built. Subconsciously, she pulled her legs up to her chest, in the foetal position. She never liked conflict, but she understood why good people fought. Once upon a time, she was a fighter too, before The Change. But those were weaker foes compared to the aliens she faced now.

“There’s something else we’ve been meaning to talk to you about. You constantly assure us that you are not a Decepticon, but none of us recognize you, nor do we see any mark of affiliation with us.”

She was silent for a while. Ratchet seemed to wait patiently as she seemed to deliberate, optics tracing a path on the ground. The black-armoured femme seemed to come to a conclusion and faced him with a brave speech.

“That is because I am neither a Decepticon nor an Autobot.”

Ratchet didn’t seem surprised by her answer. Truthfully, Optimus and he had been speculating on this ever since she came into their custody. It was hard to believe, but it was the only explanation that fit. The Neutrals had been exterminated early on in the war. This faction was mostly made up of ones who could not or would not fight for one reason or another. They usually had a hard time making a living, and Decepticon raids would eventually become the reason that no Neutral was thought to be alive to this day.

If Ray was a Neutral, it would explain her behaviour towards humans and conflict with either of the opposing factions.

It didn’t quite explain away the radiation that caused nearby molecules to dance almost excitably in her vicinity, or the way she could put you at ease in her presence—a feeling of protection and unconditional love. There was just something missing from this explanation that Ratchet needed to figure out. He had asked specific questions before, but hopefully this time she would willingly answer.

“What colony are you from?”

His question was met with silence. Ratchet withheld a sigh of disappointment, but something in his demeanour must have changed. She saw his disappointment and immediately felt guilty.

She wanted so badly to tell the truth, but it couldn’t be helped. Her people had rights to their privacy and security. She hadn’t gotten communication from the council indicating it was okay to share that information—Ratchet didn’t know but she had easily repaired the severed wires in her antennae. Anyway, it was doubtful that the council would ever agree to open their city to the Autobots, because she knew the humans were afraid. She wished that the time they spent in her and her babies’ presence would ease some of that fear, but it was still not an easy decision to make. She could only hope her feelings reached the people she loved and trusted.

Ratchet tried a different angle, “When did you arrive on earth?”

Ray’s optics, formerly gazing guiltily away, snapped up to Ratchet. This she could technically answer. Her voice was soft but sure as she answered.

“Sometime in the 80’s. But I didn’t start travelling until the late 90’s and didn’t find a place to settle until... the Mission City disaster.”

He thought on this for a bit. It was a bit telling when the femme would be forthcoming with all topics except for where she came from and where she was staying. It made him wonder if there were more Neutrals hiding somewhere.

“Who was that travelling with you when we found you?”

With a pang of anxiety, Ray cautiously revealed, “Linda. She’s a good friend of mine. She... gave me a home.” It was as close to truth as possible. Linda didn’t just give her a home but had helped build it.

“Is there a way we can contact Linda?” He asked, and seeing her wariness, he continued, “If you were happy with her before, I’m sure Prime would let you return as her guardian.”

Ray visibly struggled with herself. There was distress at wanting to be open about her home—she was so proud of what she had helped build—but wanting to respect her people’s wishes. Something in her rattled, and her dentas clenched reflexively.

“I want to... but I can’t... I can’t... It’s not safe... We do not trust...” Her processor stuttered through the many things she wanted or needed to say but was scared of divulging. It created a loop she could not break herself out of.

Ratchet’s servo braced itself on her shoulder, and her continued stuttering petered out. His voice was consoling as he assured her that the Autobots did not mean her or any friend of hers harm, that they had promised to protect humans from the Decepticon threat. The rattling of her mechanical parts somewhere in her quieted, and she took in and vented out air harshly in a very human gesture of recovery.

“There you go. Easy now. You’re safe.”

He tried to pick up the conversation afterward, but her continued silence was worrying. Did she not feel safe here? Granted they took precautions to protect the base’s secrets, but she had not shown any negative effects of the treatment until now. He would speak with Optimus about improving the conditions of her stay here.

==

Three weeks after capture...

It had taken a lot of arguing, but she was finally allowed to—under strict supervision and great limitation—to ‘step’ out of the storage room. Though, to protect the secrets of the existence of Cybertronians, she was only allowed to be in vehicle mode, and it would be in the evening when most of the day’s work was done. Perhaps they were afraid of spy satellites seeing their bipedal forms. With her sight restored, she took the time away from the constant interrogation to simply enjoy the sunshine and the sound of waves nearby. She drove circles or figure 8’s around her guard as well as objects to exercise her precision driving. She even asked her guards about stunts like wheelies, which the amused Autobots agreed to teach her in the limited time she had outside.

Inside the storage room, she would turn into bipedal mode to work her joints, cables, and pistons. She would contort herself in all the ways she knew possible before she grew bored. Sometime during the middle of the day, Ratchet would come along to poke, prod, or ask her things. Very rarely did she ever see Optimus Prime, the Autobots’ leader. When she asked once, she was told he was very busy dealing with the human government and their liaisons. It wasn’t explicitly said, but it was obvious to her that the human government wasn’t happy with the Autobots’ continued stay on Earth.

Though Ray did her best to keep the secret of her little city, she could see that the Autobots were beginning to piece together little things she had been saying (or hadn’t remembered saying). They brought up what she said when Sideswipe and Optimus first cornered her at the abandoned farm, about Max and Linda, about the mysterious warehouse that was obviously just a warehouse and nothing to be suspicious about—

She wasn’t very good at this secret keeping business. Ray supposed it was inevitable that a race so much more experienced than she would start to figure it out, and she only hoped that her people would forgive her.

==

1 month after capture...

Not much changed over the next week, except she obviously gained some level of trust with the Autobots and was involved in less discrete conversations more. Perhaps they had figured out her secret already. They avoided telling her what they thought, so she wasn’t sure.

It was a little over a month when she got a communication from Max, who obviously spoke for the council in this matter. The break in the comm silence ever since her capture took her so off guard, that she froze in the middle of an interrogation. When asked what was wrong, she was too shocked to formulate the words she needed to say, and instead asked to be given some time alone with her guard.

It took her two hours to gather her courage, but she asked to meet with Optimus and Ratchet, stressing that she wanted them alone or she wouldn’t reveal anything. After the agreement was secure, she tried to secure the area against listening devices or humans, using her powers discretely to do so.

It was time.

[koko-bopp]

Flirty Criminal

criminal!song mingi X detective!m!reader

Part 4

word count – 3K

genre – Fluff/Angst | Criminal/Cop!au

warning(s) – mentions of cheating, threats

synopsis – “[Y/N] [L/N] is known famously around his police precinct as the detective that the infamous criminal Song Mingi has a crush on. The detective denies these claims, though Mingi gets into as much trouble as possible just to see him.”

Things were going well, to say the least.

On one hand, Mingi was madly in love with you, which is what you wanted. Having the criminal wrapped around your finger was what was necessary to complete the job assignment, you were hoping he'd soon melt and tell you what you needed. You didn't ship your husband to Chicago for no reason.

Yet, on the other hand, it was getting increasingly difficult to retrieve what you needed, Mingi was always acting like he wasn't some notorious criminal, he would show a very different side to how he would normally behave. He was sweet, affectionate, constantly horny and just– you wondered; is this what Song Mingi is when he's not leading his life of violent crime.

Three and a half weeks have ran by, hickeys littered your shoulders and many kisses have met your lips. None of it bad, but Mingi had this mindset of 'I am not clingy, but I am', enough for your colleagues to know that you're seeing someone (they all know damn well that it isn't your husband, he was never this possessive) while you would change out of your work gear in the locker rooms.

This new change of pace wasn't annoying or something you were struggling to adapt to. You're literally paid to act cute and go on dates with the guy. Yet it had crossed your mind multiple times as to whether or not you were actually catching feelings for Mingi.

"Wow, your house is really nice," Mingi said, his eyes wondering around the whole place.

It's a big house, it's nice, and you're very much proud of it. High ceilings, a swimming pool at the back, a lovely porch; everything you had wanted as a child. You wrapped your arms around Mingi, his hands holding your waist as you did so. You placed a small kiss on his lips, "I missed you."

"You saw me yesterday," He chuckled, leaning forward to place another kiss. "We're actually having dinner, right? Because I came here on an empty stomach and I'm kind of starving."

"I didn't have a chef's mindset, I hope fancy ramen and wine is enough," You giggled, smiling at Mingi.

He scoffed light-heartedly, "That's fine, Im just starving. Let's enjoy our dinner, yeah?"

"What the–"

Maybe your husband shouldn't have over-thought the idea of you sending him to Chicago. You told him it as because of the fact that Mingi knew who he was and he was a potential target; and it was partly correct.

But the man you once fell in love with was standing at the entrance of the dining room with the house keys in his hand, shocked expression, eyes wide and horribly confused.

He wasn't in Chicago.

He was in your house, watching you hold hands with Song Mingi as if you were married to him.

Half a second had gone by, and the shock on your husband's face was inevitable.

Mingi was the first to notice. His eyes were smiling with his face while he was looking at you but his expression went cold when he turned his head to the man who was uninvited. He scowled, "Can we help you?"

To which you promptly turned around to as well. Your eyes went wide and out of instinct you stood up and let go of Mingi's hand, turning to your husband, "Ty...What are you doing here?"

"Me?" He scoffed at you, before looking at Mingi, "What's he doing here?"

Mingi didn't hold back, "Date night." He leaned back against the chair, his elbow propped up on the neck of it, almost slouching, but not the lazy kind, the intimidating kind. "And I don't know about you, but I don't like jerks in suits ruining them."

Ty didn't like that. Especially since he felt so in the dark with this whole situation, and the fact that you weren't doing anything to defend him made it that little bit worse. He took a step forward, his nose scrunched in anger, eyes on Mingi, "I could fucking step on you, Song."

Mingi let out a sarcastic laugh, before dropping it to a smirk, "I could fucking shoot you."

"Enough." You frowned at both of them before turning to your husband, "You. Come with me. And you–" You said, pointing at Mingi, "–You stay here."

He rolled his eyes, but stayed put regardless. His gaze drifted to your husband, glaring daggers into the guy's soul as he watched the two of you exit the room. Mingi huffed, unscrewing the bottle of red wine to fill his glass to the top, leaving the narrowest space just so the red toxins didn't overflow and permanently stain the lint, beige, tablecloth.

You had entered the guest bedroom, Ty following behind you before closing the door, making sure that there was no way anybody would hear the two of you. Ty took in a very sharp breath, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes still that bit wide from shock, "[Y/N]." He started, "[Y/N], what the fuck is going on?"

You crossed your arms, remaining calm, "Why aren't you in Chicago?"

"Excuse me?" Ty choked out, not really being able to comprehend the words coming out from his husband's mouth. "That's what your concern is? That I'm interrupting your date? Mind you, with Song fucking Mingi?"

You snapped; "I didn't interrupt your sex session with my partner, Ty."

Ty's expression went from angry to shocked. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again since his mind was too busy re-registering what you'd just said.

There were very few things you were telling the truth about the night you slept with Mingi, but one of them weren't the fact that you found your husband in bed with your partner. The white lie was when you knew. It wasn't that night, you knew months in advance, but you just didn't have the heart to confront both parties about it.

The only issue was, the more you put the confrontation on hold, the more out of love you were with Ty.

And it was the reason why you accepted the whole assignment to trick Mingi into being your boyfriend. You weren't willing to fix things with a cheater, you respected yourself too much for that, but you also went willing to risk putting Ty in danger either, so you told him that sending him to Chicago would be safest for him.

Ty obviously didn't get the message, since he's in the same household as a man who killed a bunch of people, as well as willing to kill someone who's hurt someone he loves.

"Yeah," you sighed, "That's what I thought."

Cheating on a cheater is like fighting fire with fire; there's nothing wrong with it, just as long as both parties are sane enough to manage the flames. But it doesn't mean that ones flame won't occasionally burn the other.

"Get whatever the fuck you need, then go to my precinct. I'll call Haulting, he'll send you on the next flight to a safe house." There's always a plan B. You lock eyes with Ty, no smile, no frown, just some expression that told him that you didn't care what he needed to tell you, "If you need to talk; you call Haulting, not me. He'll forward you to me during bussiness-hours if it's urgent."

"[Y/N], don't—"

"I already did," you said, "And you did too. So don't bother."

Ty frowned, his brows furrowed in the process. He really wanted to say something, something that will show his guilt but also stop you from what he thinks is a dangerous decision. Though he knows danger isn't something you worry about, you didn't become a detective for nothong.

He didn't say anything. He looked at you for the last time that night before walking past you. He couldn't believe he was listening to you, or even letting go of the fact that youre still going to be around that bastard.

He stopped in his tracks when he reached the enterance of the dining room. He glared at Mingi, the jerk was sitting in the chair, glass of wine half empty with a stupid grin on his face that was directed to Ty.

"Watch your step, Song."

"Watch your your back, punk." Mingi laughed, before giving a knowing smirk, "If you're not careful, there might just be a bullet heading your way."

Ty scoffed, heading out the door, not forgetting to slam behind him as he left.

Mingi rolled his eyes, taking a mouthful of the red wine before turning around to see you enter the room again. He smiled at you softly, "You okay?"

You nodded, sighing. "Yeah, sorry."

Mingi shook his head, putting his drink down. He watched you put your phone on the table, the device sitting up. He raised up from his seat, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin on your shoulder, "My help is yours if you need it."

You smiled, just a bit, taking in the smell of his cologne with your arms wrapped around his neck, "Thanks."

Mingi's eyes accidently wandered to your phone. He saw the thing light up, so it was almost hard to miss.

-

Wayne Haulting (Supervisor)

[8:11pm] I know you're on a date with Song, but I need a report back on hi...

-

The criminal frowned. His thoughts rushed to one thing, then to another, before stopping when you pulled away from the embrace.

His heart almost melted when you smiled at him, the action replicating a similar expression on his face.

You sighed, "Sorry for ruining dinner." You said, gently pulling on one of Mingi's buttons, "Want to watch a movie or something?"

Mingi nodded, "Sure."

But not before his mind fixing to wanting to know what that text was about.

[scientistowengottlieb-newtkelly]

Thoughts and feelings about Pacific Rim 2?

you sure you wanna open up that particular can of worms?

movie review time! be warned i'm not in a good mood as i am shaking in pain, however this review would have been scathing regardless. and none of this is to say pacific rim is perfect, it's not, but... aye, i have no words for the world of difference there. oh wait! i do:

so. first and foremost, i hate it. as both a movie and a sequel. did i find it entertaining? yes, mildly, so i suppose it did its job, however the only thing that keeps me watching it is because, simply, it's part of the pacific rim franchise whether we like it or not. therefore, i squeeze as much salvageable content from it as i can, such as how one might analyze the precursors, how we are to view hermann and newt as characters pre-, during, and post-uprising, what we are to expect from drifting (though this one i take with a grain of salt, there is a whole other rant preserved for the joke of an attempt to develop that shit within the movie)

one of my biggest issues with pacific rim is really simple: it plays out like DeKnight did not watch the first fucking movie or was scrolling through twitter while doing it and decided he'd make a cash grab since the first one was relatively popular. "haha the kaiju were going for mount fuji the whole time!!" bitch no they weren't!!! why the fuck did they end up anywhere near sydney, australia, then!!! why did they turn tail on places like manila and san fran instead of heading straight for japan!!! WHY DID THE ONE THAT WAS IN JAPAN NOT SUCCEED, THERE'S NO WAY WITH THOSE MARK 1 JAEGERS THEY'D HAVE BEEN ABLE TO REASONABLY FIGURE OUT THEIR PLAN AND WHERE THEY WERE GOING IN TIME TO STOP THEM!!! newt literally lays out what they are doing in the first movie and they completely ignored that!!! not to mention, if the destruction from elements found in mount fuji would have been enough to terraform the earth, WHY DIDN'T THEY JUST FUCKING DO THAT WHEN THEY WERE SUPPOSEDLY ON EARTH AGES AGO??? THERE WERE VOLCANOES WITH THOSE SAME ELEMENTS BEFORE RIGHT NOW, VOLCANOES ARE NOT A RELATIVELY NEW THING EARTH CREATED SUDDENLY AND I WOULD IMAGINE NEITHER ARE THOSE ELEMENTS!!! IT MAKES NO SENSE!!! and.... okay the fucking drones. how did those bitches make breaches??? we know the breach is some result of precursor/kaiju technology, apparently they know the breach's atomic structure as hermann said in the first movie, but how tf some kaiju organs and tech from earth only is ALL it takes to open a breach... illudes and confuses me... why were no more breaches made by the precursors once they realized how long and how many resources it was taking to kill the humans off??? if it's??? shit they could do with simple earth materials + their own biology??? they could have ended things much faster??? shit just doesn't add up, idk, that was Vague and Annoyed Me

and the jaegers.... were....... strange? the fight scenes were so underwhelming, i could count on one hand the number of maneuvers—NOT SCENES, MANEUVERS—i thought were badass and moved well. their fighting was confusing and paced really weird and some of the moves they pulled... don't... work like that... like some of those scenes were just hand-to-hand combat but in big robot form and they didn't sit right with me at all.

and the characters......... oh my word, the characters. look: i love jake pentecost with all of my heart and soul and john boyega's beautiful acting just barely saves the movie from its poor writing. i do love him as a character. but can someone explain to me why in the world they thought it was a good idea to make the only black guy a black market thief/runner, deep-record criminal with daddy and authority issues, and who they dare try to play off as some kind of lazy??? they made him every stereotype they could and said "yeah let's go with that". i'm- aaaaaaaaaaaaaa and what was with the child soldiers??? ROBOCOPS?????? mako....... character assassination at its worst........ my baby......... but the movie was paced so GOD DAMN POORLY I GOT BORED AND LITERALLY MISSED HER DYING THE FIRST TIME I WATCHED IT. and i couldn't tell you the names of half of those poor damn kids, i really couldn't. and can i also say they killed off one of the only two darker skinned kids?? like y'all???? the other darker skinned kids (one of the children i can't remember the names of because it was uttered ONCE in the entire movie or some shit) didn't even GET characterization. my whole heart goes out to her and those other underdeveloped fucks. speaking of...... i am ashamed about jules. from the movie that brought us the mako mori test, they threw in a girl simply for the sake of some shitty, awkward, and unexplained love triangle between jake and White Angst without much else to put to her name. she deserved better. amara was... a decent shot, but very hit or miss because of the writing. i, personally, am very neutral about her leaning towards liking her, but i know people who swing love and who swing hate. liwen was like,,,, they tried really hard to make her unlikable at the beginning because "oh no, she must be the villain! GOTTEM plot twist!!!" and then suddenly she's no longer. threatening everyone except newt. idk i feel like they leaned to heavily one way and i got whiplash when she's actually another but there was nothing to... portray that. at all. i do like her character, and that says a lot because they got me to sympathize with a capitalist without actually regretting it later, but there could/should have been More there. she was powerful, though, in multiple different aspects, and we saw that from her CONSISTENTLY and i 😳🥵👀💕 mako mori test pass for her

now, let's talk about hermann (and by extention, newton, however he'll be getting a section all his own the rat bastard). that man is one of the single instances of decent cross-movie characterization i saw in the whole god damn film. the idea that he takes on newton's roles, that he is more outspoken for himself, that he is just slightly more unhinged after his drift with newton: THAT is on point. he's himself, you can see it, you still know that he's hermann with ever step, but there's something that has shifted in him in those 10 years and it's good without being too much. the "i still get nightmares" scene, the way he presents himself, that scene gives me chills because god bless burn gorman and his acting ability. every face and intonation of his voice is just wonderful and i think his performance was great for what he was given. king shit.

the biggest disappointment of my life came in the form of a kaiju vest wearing bitch at work. at his corporate job. as a boss. for a tech company that undermines all of his and, frankly, hermann's work over their lifetimes. 10 years older and exaggerated to the teeth. newton "move you fascist" geiszler. let me preface this by stating for all to see that i do not hate the idea of newton being the villain. story wise it was a bold move and there was something possible there. BUT THE IMPLICATION THAT ONE OF THE MOST OBVIOUSLY NEURODIVERGENT CHARACTERS IN THE WHOLE FUCKING FRANCHISE, ESPECIALLY GIVEN THAT HE HAS BEEN CHARACTERIZED AS HAVING A "BORDERLINE MANIC PERSONALITY" AKA HAVING ONE OF THE MOST DEMONIZED MENTAL ILLNESSES OUT THERE, ENDS UP ACTING AS THE GOD DAMN VILLAIN OF THE STORY IS A HOT GARBAGE TAKE WHEN YOU FACTOR IN THINGS LIKE POOR WRITING NOT MAKING IT CLEAR WHETHER OR NOT NEWTON IS EVEN IN CONTROL OF HIS OWN FACULTIES AND THE VAGUENESS OF "WILL HE BE 'REDEEMED' OR NOT" BEING UP IN THE AIR LIKELY NEVER TO BE CANONICALLY FUCKING ANSWERED BECAUSE BECKHAM AND DEKNIGHT SHAT OUT A MOVIE THAT BOMBED IN THE BOX OFFICE. we aren't even gonna TALK about the fact that this bitch got AWAY with it despite not even acting in a remotely stable way comparable to himself in the first movie in the 10 years he supposedly dropped off the map from all of his friends because, clearly, hermann hadn't seen him or he wouldn't be so excited with a picture of the two of them on his desk, nor would he have to tell newton about his idea for rocket thrusters with kaiju blood fuel because he would have simply written to him about it. for some strange reason people see his ass show up decked out in a suit he wouldn't even wear for Stacker Fucking Pentecost and a behavior of "Haha Gotta Listen To The Boss" and think "ah, yes, well, time changes a person. THIS BITCH HAS APPARENTLY BEEN LIKE THIS THE WHOLE TIME, YOU THINK HE GOT A JOB WITH LIWEN LOOKING AND ACTING LIKE HE DID BEFORE AND THERE WAS A SHIFT OVER TIME? NO, HE HAD TO HAVE CHANGED IN A SPLIT DECISION AND LIED ABOUT HIMSELF THROUGH HIS TEETH AND NO ONE CONTACTED HIM, OR WAS WORRIED ABOUT HIM, OR DECIDEDLY THOUGHT "YOU KNOW, HE MAY BE EMBOLDENED THAT HE SAVED THE WORLD, BUT I THINK SOMETHING LIKE THAT WOULD HAVE THE EXACT OPPOSITE EFFECT ON HIM AND HE WOULD DO HIS BEST TO AMPLIFY HIS CURRENT STANDING TRAITS. LISTENING TO AND KISSING THE BOOT OF AUTHORITY FIGURES? DIVORCING HIMSELF FROM HIS WORK WITH KAIJU XENOBIOLOGY THAT EVEN HERMANN PICKED UP? TO BECOME THE THING HE HATES? AND FOR WHAT? MONEY? FAME? BITCH WHO ARE YOU?" unreasonable. ridiculous attempt to do this just for a plot twist that was underwhelming at best. i've decided to stick to the fan theory that he was not in control 99% of the time but literally that movie causes such a hellfire path to appear in my wake as i think about it because i know people who don't take it like that and think newt wants what's happening because "haha horny kaiju man" and i wish to scream at the top of my lungs because this is exactly WHY you CANNOT spare ANY EXPENSE to the GOOD, PROPER, INTRICATE directing and writing of a character who is neurodivergent and also ONE OF THE CENTERS OF NOT JUST THE MOVIE YOU'RE WRITING, BUT THE FUCKING MOVIE AFTER THAT. i could go on but i sincerely don't fucking want to, despite how long i've been waiting for someone to willingly hear me out on all of this. all i'll say is if by some miracle they are greenlit for a third film and deknight's working on it and i see ANY sign of a bury your gays end for newt, i'm going to commit the first hate crime against a cishet white male.

to end, the only valid kaiju in that movie was the mega-kaiju, i don't remember the appearance or the names of the three that got through the breaches but the mega-kaiju could kill me and i'd die happy 🥰 beautiful design, that scale comparison when it came face to face with newt? amazing, chills, *chef's kiss* there are exactly two things i liked about uprising and that bitch is one of them.

sorry if this isn't what you wanted, but as i said i am in a bit of a bad mood and have been curled up in bed trying not to think that i'm dying and i've repressed all of this for a couple months now and very few people have actually heard PORTIONS of my frustration so. here it is.

[imaginekpoplikethis]

Mixing it up sequel scenarios - TroubleMaker! Min Yoongi X reader - Part 1

Mixing it up is back! As scenarios which all take place after the events of the original story so to understand the context and references it would probably be better if you have read the original which I will link below. I hope you all enjoy this comeback. It’s gonna be a ride 🤩

Original Mixing it up story

Part 1 - Here

————

Standing before the very school you hated with a passion several months ago, you couldn’t help the grin that slid onto your face. Honestly, it didn’t look half as bad as you expected it to after the disaster that hit but that was to be expected since it was high on the towns priority list even before the fire. You weren’t sure why exactly but you also didn’t care to dwell on such trivial matters.

“Hey Y/N! Hellooo. Are you there? We’re gonna be late to class if you don’t stop staring mindlessly at the school and I don’t wanna have to introduce myself through the first period.”

Snapping back to reality, you linked arms with Suhyun and dragged her towards the entrance.

“Wow! It’s scary how much you’ve changed. I remember a time you would have entertained the idea of missing school for a month if it meant not having to share the same school grounds as Yoongi. Now-“ You playfully pinched her side invoking a squeal out of her.

“I know I know! You don’t have to remind me...”

A giggle escaped Suhyun at your embarrassed tone and she tugged you towards her.

“I’m just kidding around. I’d be excited too if I got to see my boyfriend everyday for at least a month.”

Exited? You were ecstatic if anything.

“What class is he in by the way?”

A small sigh escaped you.

“I have no idea, he wouldn’t say. Was probably hoping he wouldn’t jinx it and somehow have us end up in different classes.”

His hopes were high. The odds of actually ending up in his class were five to one.

Your mind drifted off at the thought of your boyfriend, Min Yoongi. It’s worth mentioning back before you had been forced to share your school with him, you would have scowled and turned to walk in the other direction at the sight of someone with mint coloured hair. That all changed after all the events that transpired throughout his stay at your school. Honestly, it was a hectic time, something that would fit more into a drama than your life but you’re happy they occurred nonetheless.

Focusing back on the present, you found yourself standing in the corridor of the lowest floor, Suhyun talking to herself about where your classes were.

“You’re in class 3-d right? I’m in 3-a so obviously we’re both heading to the third floor. Ugh, I can’t believe we’re split up. We’ve been in the same class for years now.”

Starting the trek up the stairs, you watched as she pouted in disappointment.

“Suhyun, this isn’t permanent.”

“I know but I wanted to have at least one friend in my class.”

That wouldn’t be hard. She was practically a ball of sunshine. A lot like someone else you know...

“Don’t worry you’ll be fine! Who wouldn’t want to be friends with you? You’re kind, super friendly and charismatic.”

Reaching the third floor, her class was right by the staircase and so she turned towards you.

“Hehe, you’re such a great friend. You always know what to say to cheer me up.

A cute grin spread on her face and she envelops you in a quick hug which you giddily returned.

“I’ll see you at lunchtime?” Upon your nod of approval, she turned towards the classrooms doorway.

“Great, I’ll wait for you outside your class. See you in a bit.”

After watching her enter the class, you took to walking down the somewhat busy hallway, eyes trained on the sign reading ‘3-d.’

Hoisting your bag higher on your shoulder you opened the door, the class’ home room teacher already standing at his desk, early.

“Ah, you might as well introduce yourself now. Your other class mates have already done so.”

Giving a small nervous smile, you quickly nodded and made your way to the front of the class. Shifting from foot to foot, your eyes scanned the room for any familiar faces. Sighing lightly when your eyes couldn’t detect anyone you knew, you cleared your throat and readied yourself for the possible stuttering mess of an introduction you would deliver.

The sound of the door opening halted your introductory speech, eyes snapping to the doorway only to light up at the familiar face and not so familiar hair.

“Min Yoongi! Late yet again. This must be the tenth time in two weeks.”

More importantly, he’s brunette now. Not that you were complaining.

A tired gaze fell upon the teacher and he simply rubbed at his eyes, grumbling to himself.

“What was that!?”

“Nothing sir.” Yoongi was quick to dismiss whatever he had initially said. His eyes finally landed on you and a smirk slowly spread upon his lips.

“Well well... Y/N. Nice of you to join us.” Cue the tingling sensation that usually adorned your cheeks at his lazy smirk.

“Yoongi please take your seat, you’re holding up the rest of the class.” Despite it feeling as if you both were the only ones in the room for a second, your temporary teacher was quick to snap you out of it, the growing annoyance clear in his tone. Yoongi surprisingly listened to the instructions though the smirk remained on his face, his head lowered as he made his way to his desk.

“Sorry about that. You should be able to make your introduction without any further interruptions.”

The teacher clapped a hand on your shoulder, a supportive smile being sent your way though it did nothing to ease your nervousenss, especially since an extra pair of eyes were watching you far more intently than the rest.

He was most probably waiting for you to stutter and flush red, something he would one hundred percent use as ammo to tease you later on.

———

“You should have seen the look on her face when she stuttered out her own name.”

Annoyance was a common theme whenever Yoongi decided to make fun of you. Sure, you had seen this coming, call it a premonition and name yourself Raven if you will. However, it still irked you that he felt the need to recall the moment to everyone at the lunch table.

“Well they didn’t Yoongi and they won’t ever see the “look on my face” so drop it.”

Did the words come out harsher than you intended? Yes. Did it make you seem angered by his actions? Yes.

Did Yoongi care?

That would be a big, bold-

“I just remembered... they can see. I filmed it.”

-no.

He proceeded to pull out his phone and unlock it, finding the most recent media in his camera roll. Taehyung cheered and high fived Hoseok  whilst everyone else all too eagerly leant forward to catch a glimpse of your mess of an introduction. All you could do was groan and rise from your seat.

It seemed your awkward moments were still getting filmed to this day.

“Aw, where are you going Y/N? Don’t worry you look cute!”

Leave it to Suhyun to try and cheer you up.

“I’m just going to get a drink from the vending machine. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Leaving the group to their own devices, you headed outside of the lunch room to the nearby machine. After deciding on a peach Lipton and checking the price, you reached a hand into your pocket only to groan a second time at the realisation that you left your money in your bag. As you were turning to leave an arm reached over your shoulder and put in several coins and punched in the iced teas number.

Eyes widening you spun on your heel, coming face to face with the last person you were expecting.

“Mi-Rae...”

Said girl offered you a tight smile though it resembled more of a grimace than anything. She looked significantly different from the last time you had seen her. Her hair was now short and she looked somewhat tired.

“Hey...”

There was pregnant silence where you both simply stared at one another, bad memories replaying in your minds. She eventually broke eye contact with you to reach down and grab the drink that had been dispensed. Turning it in her hands, her eyes nervously flitted back to yours. She beckoned you to move to the side to let other students use the vending machine and joined you against a wall.

“I... I never got the chance to say sorry after everything. After we fought and I was questioned by the police, I was lucky enough to end up with community service. I’m far from done with it but it’s still given me a lot of time to think. About why I acted out and how I treated you and others around me.”

The genuine guilt and sorrow held in her eyes made you feel extremely awkward. You didn’t know what to say.

“You’re a really nice person who was trying to do a good thing. While we were friends, I had fun and I’d like to believe you did too.”

Realisation dawned on her that she was beginning to babble on.

“Er- what I’m getting at is... I’m sorry. Really and truly sorry. For framing you for the pen incident, being mean and literally fighting you.”

She reached out her hand holding the tea to the side and you slowly took it, releasing a sigh.

“Mi-Rae... I wish you had just taken responsibility for your actions instead of dumping it on others. Maybe then none of that would have happened and we could have been friends without all the drama.”

You cringed at the use of the word ‘drama’. That was the understatement of the century if not millennium.

“Lord knows though wishing about things that happened in the past gets you nowhere. So I think the only thing to do is forgive but not forget.”

“Yeah... Thank you for hearing me out. You could have walked away at any time but you have me a chance. You really are kind.”

You thought back to your brawl with her. Her use of kind might have been a stretch.

“Not that much but thanks. Good luck with your community service and... I’ll see you around?”

You silently hoped you would. It would help you to keep all the bad blood in the past. Reaching out your hand for her to shake, she grasped it, this time a genuine smile gracing her lips.

“I’d like that.”

———

“Wow you took ages, I almost grew white hairs.”

Yoongis voice was the first to reach your ears and you grinned at him. A weight you didn’t know you had felt like it had been lifted.

“Yeah, I bumped into Mi-Rae.”

A scowl overtook his face and the table looked at you in shock.

“What? Did she do or say anything? Maybe she needs to be reminded what she put you through.”

Seating yourself beside Yoongi, you linked your arm with his own and calmly patted his leg.

“Don’t worry, she just apologised for everything. To be honest, it was so awkward I didn’t know what to do. We decided to move on but not forget. She seems like a totally different person.”

He scoffed at your retelling of the encounter and you pinched him in retaliation.

“If that’s what you want, fine. Her being a different person probably has something to do with the fact she’s practically an outcast now.”

You looked down at the table, sadness replacing the relief you had felt.

“That’s... kind of upsetting to hear.”

He rubbed your back to comfort you and pulled your head to lay on the side of his arm whilst Jimin interjected.

“She’s not completely alone. I see her with Yura a lot so don’t feel too bad.”

“That’s good. I’m glad she doesn’t hold anything against her.”

A silence enfolded the table, one that Hoseok was quick to interrupt.

“Anyway, we should do something after class.”

“On a Monday?”

Doing something after school on a Monday... you couldn’t think of anything worse than that idea right now.

“Yeah, there’s a crazy discount at the arcade next to the mall on Mondays. Plus they serve after school meal deals.”

A chorus of approvals rang throughout the table.

Despite this seemingly great opportunity, your bed sounded more appealing at this precise moment.

“I think I’m gonna go home instead.”

Boos were what you were greeted with and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh my gosh, okay fine.”

“Yes! The entire group is hanging out tonight! Everyone meet outside the school gates after the last bell.”

Whilst everyone agreed, Yoongi lowered his mouth to ear level and muttered into your ear.

“You were always gonna come. I would’ve made sure.”

Gosh, he was so annoying. Even more so since you know he would have definitely succeeded.

[dat-fandom-losertown]

The Drift Between Us

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Chapter 8: The Search

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Hank Anderson x Connor, Gavin x RK900 (Ritch)

Pacific Rim AU

Warnings: Inaccurate/Unfair representation of a therapist (for only 1 paragraph), A physical fight, and I think that’s all?

Word Count: 12,273

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

A/N: Hey guys, I normally don’t like putting notes before a fic, but I just wanted to apologize for this update taking literal months, and I wanted to thank anyone who’s still around and is still wanting to read this. On with the long-awaited chapter!

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Previous <> Masterlist <> Next

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

    After Ritch hesitantly peeks through Connor’s journal (which turns out to be admittedly helpful, if not surprising because of the specific note that Ritch is more compatible with Gavin despite the fact Ritch had always made sure Connor wasn’t in the area when they started picking at each other, the one exception being during the Alex fiasco) and adds his own information to it, he goes to lunch.

    He ends up spending most of his meal time talking with the Jericho Squad (and he doubts he’ll ever not internally cringe whenever they unironically call themselves that) about therapy and what generally makes a good therapist and a bad one. It’s actually quite helpful. Helpful enough, in fact, that after he and Connor take two written evaluations directly after lunch– with the second one having significantly harder and oddly specific questions that he’s sure they both got some wrong– he initiates a relatively unstressful talk with his brother about general types of therapists.

    They end up agreeing that they absolutely don’t trust strangers with anything personal, which will make this entire endeavor harder than it probably should be since the therapist will be a stranger. They also surprisingly agree on what type of therapist they think they’d prefer to have, despite their very different personalities. Neither twin mention that this may be because the warm, casual nature of the person they’re both hoping for is nearly the opposite of how Amanda always treated them, but it does vaguely show up in Ritch’s unsettling dreams that night.

    The next morning, on his way to breakfast, Ritch almost predictably runs into Gavin. However, instead of immediately getting into another round of gibes, Gavin is so wrapped up in whatever he’s doing that he doesn’t acknowledge Ritch at all. He supposes that even the pilots with shorter tempers have actual work to be done, so the trainee doesn’t question it and moves on. Ritch refuses to believe that the negative emotion he feels because of the lack of attention from Reed is disappointment. Just another thing to shove away and forcibly forget about for the preferably indefinite future.

    The strength tests after breakfast definitely help with keeping him distracted from therapists and Gavin and anything else he’s shoved away from his mind so well that he can no longer recall what they are (but he knows they’re there. He can feel them trying to cause him more stress and uncertainty, but all he has to do is pointedly not think about that vague feeling and they can’t bother him). Chloe doesn’t show a reaction or share their results during the strength evaluations, so he doesn’t know if they’re just average or if they scored close enough to what they had before that no input is needed. Yet another thing to add to the “don’t think or worry about it right now” pile.

    Thankfully, or unfortunately, depending on the point of view, he forgets about everything in that mental pile except for one thing after he finishes dinner. The therapist search. He and Connor have separate people they’re going to check out, since Marshal Fowler said it would be better for them to not have the same therapist. Both he and Connor readily agreed.

    When Ritch arrives at his appointment, the older man only greets him and introduces himself as Dr. Johnson before getting right down to business. That isn’t anything more than a rub in the wrong direction, but when Ritch gives an honest but simple request, “I’d rather not give any personal information before I know you’re right for me,” the man starts assuming possible situations that could be the reason why Ritch is here without letting him properly speak. Again, Ritch doesn’t have a particular problem with this– he certainly won’t be choosing this man– but Mr. Johnson then ignores Ritch when he requests that they get back on topic and instead takes that as a “clue” that he is “getting close” to the “real reason” and starts spewing even more ridiculous bullshit.

    (As if he, of all people, would have had any time or desire at all for a romantic relationship growing up, and that he would’ve been be vengeful, of all emotions, if “she” died in what would be considered a freak accident. As if he even knows if he’s interested in women exclusively or at all. It’s not like he’s had the time or desire to experiment with relationships or even the idea of them.)

    Ritch ends up so tense with frustration that he gets up and leaves long before the session is supposed to end, ignoring the calls behind him. He will not put up with someone who won’t listen to him, not again. Not if he has any control over it, and Marshal Fowler and Chloe had guaranteed that he does.

    After those short 15 minutes, he reluctantly decides to get some outside help, and there’s only one person he can think of that would have both the information he’s looking for and the potential willingness to help– even if it’s only for Connor’s sake.

    He’s surprised to see the man he planned on looking for during breakfast. After a beat of hesitation, he figures that the sooner he asks the better, and heads over to a table with only one, familiar figure sitting at it.

    “Hello, Mr. Anderson.”

    The ex-pilot doesn’t turn around to face Ritch or sit up from being hunched over his food, and huffs in lieu of a greeting. That isn’t unexpected, though, since it is a well-known fact that Mr. Anderson normally doesn’t get out of bed until lunch is already being served. It would almost make Ritch feel guilty for bothering the exhausted man if he weren’t also concerned about himself and Connor being eaten alive by strangers who claim they want to help.

    Mr. Anderson suddenly turns his head towards Ritch, as if just realizing something. “I thought I told you to call me–”

    Ritch sees the shock on his face when he registers his blue eyes instead of Connor’s brown ones. He probably should have waited to call out to him until he was seen and couldn’t be mistaken for his twin, but he didn’t want to spook the older man by appearing in front of him without warning. There’s nothing to do about it now, though, so Ritch tries his best to offer what could be an apologetic smile, but could also very well look like an awkward grimace.

    He’s not well versed in showing proper emotions yet since he’s only had a day or so of practice. Simon and Josh are trying their best to teach him so he doesn’t look angry at the press if/when he’s announced as a new jaeger pilot, but so far it’s been an uphill battle.

    He doesn’t voice any of those thoughts when he addresses Mr. Anderson again. He is not like his twin, who gets nervous and overshares and rambles as a result. He has more self-control.

    “I apologize for interrupting your meal, but may I ask you for a favor? Or rather, offer to owe you one in exchange?”

    Something curious yet cautious glints in Mr. Anderson’s eyes. “What kind of favors?”

    “The kind of equivalent exchange. I may be out of line to ask this, but you do have experience with the therapists and such here, yes?”

    “Why the hell do you want to know.” Mr. Anderson snaps and sits up defensively, but it doesn’t bother Ritch. He was expecting this and more to come.

    “I would like to know which ones Connor and I should avoid.” Seeing Mr. Anderson’s blatant confusion, Ritch figures Connor hadn’t mentioned these trial meetings to him and explains further. “We started mandatory therapist jumping yesterday and the one I started with was pushy, impatient…” He purses his lips and looks to the side. “I generally try to avoid using words like “unpleasant” when describing people, but that’s the most accurate word I can use for him.” Ritch pauses long enough to look him in the eye. “Of course, if you do trust me enough to tell me these things, then I’ll let you cash in a single favor from me whenever you’d like.”

    Mr. Anderson snorts and turns to his food again, trying and failing to not let his surprise show. Is he surprised because Ritch wants his help, even though he can count their interactions on one hand? He can’t imagine it being anything else, especially since he knows of some of their issues from Connor apparently mentioning and/or actually talking about them with the older man. Maybe his twin downplayed their experiences again despite being much more anxious than usual recently?

    God, this is way too much thinking for someone who’s been actively trying to not think for the past several weeks, years even.

    “Lemme guess, a favor within reason, right?” Mr. Anderson jokes sarcastically after a few moments.

    “I am not my brother or your old partner.” Ritch states.

    Mr.Anderson looks up at him at that, very still with slightly raised eyebrows, probably asking “Does that mean what I think it does?” silently. Ritch answers the assumed question with a slight upwards tilt of his head, “Yes.”

    Ritch has far less of an issue than Connor does with doing things that don’t exactly follow the rules. Not that his brother has any particular issue with breaking the rules, he just doesn’t like to anger people because he seems to have trouble making them not angry anymore. Ritch, on the other hand, usually knows exactly how to placate and bargain with most types of people, and thus he has very little apprehension of doing things against the rules.

    Mr. Anderson hesitates for a moment before nodding his head to the chair in front of him, saying, “Go and sit down. Should I wait for Connor before I start or–”

    “Wait for me to start what?” Ritch’s shoulders stiffen in surprise, but he quickly relaxes them again. He didn’t hear Connor behind him over the white noise of the food court. ”If you don’t mind my asking, of course.”

    Ritch turns to his twin. “Mr. Anderson has agreed to tell us about some of the therapists here so we can narrow our search. Did you have a pleasant experience with yours yesterday evening, Connor?”

    He knows Connor catches the silent apology in his tone for ignoring him yesterday when his brother wanted to “compare results”, as he called it. Ritch needed to focus on how to get the tight-lipped Anderson to talk about something he likely would rather not. This is all rather straightforward and easy compared to what Ritch thought he was going to have to do.

    Connor answers as he sits down in the chair to the left of Ritch and places a steaming cup near Mr. Anderson’s tray, “I wouldn’t call it pleasant, but I wouldn’t call it unpleasant either. I believe Dr. Amelia Johan would be suitable enough if there were few or no other options. What about yours?”

    Ritch feels his expression darken slightly and has to stop himself before he clears it, then he ignores how vulnerable and awkward he feels in order to exaggerate the emotion. According to Josh and Simon, not immediately returning his face back to neutral makes him seem more human, as mildly insulting as it was to insinuate that he wasn’t human for keeping his thoughts more private. It’s one of the things they insisted he work on, though.

    “Avoid appointments with Mr. Johnson.” Ritch states plainly, pretending he doesn’t see Connor’s concerned look and body language out of the corner of his eye.

    Hank snorts in agreement. “You were right to call that man pushy. Pushy and he never lets the conversation be turned to himself or give you a break for even a second. It’s like talking to a wall that always insists you got mental work to be doin’.” He shakes his head, “I guess it works for some people… From what I heard, the roughest appointment with him is the first one, especially if you don’t work with him, but I wouldn’t know.” he finishes with a shrug.

    Connor frowns. “That’s pretty much the opposite of what we’re looking for.”

    That visibly grabs Mr. Anderson’s attention. “You’re both wantin’ the same kind of shrink?”

    Connor nods with what looks like amusement in his eyes, “It was a surprise to us as well.”

    “We’d prefer someone who is kind and more casual rather than always controlling where the conversation goes.” Ritch finishes.

    “You’d probably like Alicia Steinfield or Alexander White, then,” the older man informs immediately. “If they even still work here, that is. And avoid Johnson–” he gestures to Ritch “–obviously, and Dustin Payne and Felix Antúnez. They’re pretty strict and prefer to follow the ‘therapy is only about work’ policy. I didn’t like them much, either.”

    The ex-pilot takes a slower, almost exaggerated bite of what’s left of his breakfast. Ritch wonders if that’s a normal thing for him and Connor, because his brother, without seemingly realizing it, starts eating his own previously ignored breakfast. Interesting.

    “Dr. Steinfield and Dr. White.” Ritch forces himself to nod as he commits the names to memory because that’s apparently a normal, human thing to do according to Markus.

    Connor turns to face Ritch. “Do you think we could request to change our schedules so we can meet them this afternoon instead of the ones we had previously?”

    “I’m willing to try. After we finish breakfast.” Ritch adds as Connor moves to get up. “I’m sure they’ll at least let us skip anyone with a similar... technique as Dr. Johnson.”

    Connor nods, settles back in his seat, and starts shoveling food in his mouth in a way that Amanda would definitely disapprove of. Ritch simply sighs and turns to finish his own food in a more respectable-sized bites. He and Mr. Anderson end up making eye contact for a moment, just long enough for the older man to nod at him, and for him to return it.

    Getting this information was much easier than he thought it would have been, indeed.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

    Once Ritch finishes his own food and leaves with the message that he’ll be going to the training room after requesting a meeting with whoever’s in charge of setting up their appointments, Connor quickly swallows his large bite of food. Speaking with a full mouth isn’t a habit he particularly cares about if other people do it (he’s had to sit through too many meals with too many “important” people who do that to truly care anymore), but he hates doing it to others. Besides, Hank may put up with his weird eating habits (some days, like today, he’ll shovel his food in his mouth because he can’t get enough, and other days he’s barely able to force down several nibbles), but he's pretty positive the ex-pilot draws the line at seeing what he’s chewing.

    “Thank you.” Connor says, not hiding any of his sincerity or gratitude.

    Hank harrumphs and looks away. “I did that for more selfish reasons than you think, Connor. You don’t need to thank me.”

    Connor simply raises an eyebrow. “If I know you as much as I’d like to think I know you, I know that if you didn’t really want to surrender that information, no amount of bribing from Ritch would have gotten you to tell us.” Hank’s head snaps up at that, but Connor pushes on. “And considering that I wasn’t far behind Ritch when coming to the food court, he didn’t have to barter with you very much to get you to agree.”

    He doesn’t explicitly say how he’s almost positive that means Hank actually care about people and things, even if he doesn’t realize or want to admit it himself. Hank hates even the mention of himself having any positive emotions for whatever reason. Connor doesn’t understand it, but he hopes to learn at some point in the future when Hank is ready. If he becomes ready.

    He almost expects Hank to get grumpy or irritated at him for even insinuating he may secretly be a caring person, but he just sits there and stares at Connor for a few moments. Connor decides against continuing the eye contact, since it usually make things more awkward for Hank when he snaps out of whatever it is that makes him zone out like this occasionally. He turns back to his food. Just as he raises his second bite to his mouth, Hank speaks up with a cautious tone.

    “How did you know he offered me something for the information?”

    Connor answers easily and nonchalantly, “That’s his tactic for getting something he wants.”

    “Huh?”

    Connor sets down his fork of food and looks up to study Hank’s confused– and concerned?– face. He figures the full truth of Ritch and Connor having to train themselves to be successful manipulators so they could get nice things while growing up would ruin everything he’s trying to do and be with Hank, will invalidate every single thing Connor has ever done or said to gain the fragile, unsteady trust he’s gotten from him, so he only tells a gross understatement.

    “When Ritch wants or needs something from someone he doesn’t know well but trusts enough to not be purposefully difficult or cruel, he offers a favor because he doesn’t know which specific thing that person may want. It’s nice to know that he trusts you enough to not purposefully send him into a situation that will get him hurt in huge trouble.” Connor smiles lightly and takes another bite of food, believing the conversation is over.

    “What about you?” Hank’s question pulls him out of his head.

    Connor snaps his head up in surprise. “Me? What about me?”

    Hank huffs in what sounds like amusement, and the assumption is proven right when Connor catches the slight uplift at the corners of his mouth as he shakes his head.

    “How do you get what you want from people?”

    Connor only hesitates in his answer because he has a feeling that Hank will not like it.

    “I like to do most things on my own without needing to ask for anything because I like the sense of accomplishment, so I usually only needed to pull little tricks when Amanda needed sponsors for something and Ritch and I decided to split up. In those cases...” Connor glances away.

    “People like giving things to people and creatures that look innocent, helpless, and fragile, like small children or puppies or kittens. Even on a subconscious level, people like having something to temporarily protect, whether it’s because of the ego boost or just because they’re a nice person and like to help. Even if everyone knows that I am the opposite of fragile and I’m certainly not helpless or childish, I tend to appear so when in uncomfortable situations, so it helped me gain pity points when making the rounds for sponsors.”

    “Is that part of why you get anxious if people don’t like you? The sponsorship stuff?” Hank’s winces, like he didn’t mean to say it, probably knowing how quickly this question could make things go wrong, but did anyway.

    But Connor doesn’t feel the same suffocating pressure he knows he’d feel if anyone else– even Ritch– had asked this same question. He knows Hank hates people, and that he hates gossip even more. He knows Hank isn’t asking him this to judge him or anything of the sort. If anything, he’s asking out of curiosity that has mixed with the same protectiveness that he showed when he gave him the weighted blanket and the stress ball, that leaked in his voice when he asked how old Connor was that same day.

    As much as he has been subtly pushing to get closer to Hank, Connor is only now realizing how safe and calm he feels around him compared to how he feels around the people closer to his age. It’s not logical by any means for someone who is unstable (hopefully only temporarily) to get along with someone who is easy to anger and snap– Ritch has made that beyond clear since the very beginning– but for some reason, it’s working for them. He doesn’t know how or why, but it is, and he’d really rather not look a gift horse in the mouth.

    “Hey, Connor, you don’t have to–”

    “I don’t know.” Connor quickly says, needing to interrupt Hank’s obvious attempt to take back the question.

    After a short moment of pondering, though, he sets his elbow on the table and his head in his palm, continuing in a casual tone, “I don’t actually know, I’ve never thought about any of it before.” He huffs a laugh that lacks humor, lowering his hand and turning back to his food. “That’s probably why I have to find a mandatory shrink, huh? To get me to analyze this with this stuff?” He shakes his head. “Ritch is not going to like this one bit, and it’s going to get much worse before it gets any better.”

    “Yea.” Hank says with obvious discomfort. It snaps Connor’s attention back on him. “Yea, it probably will be. You uh, you even okay enough for the shit that’s about to pile on ya? Especially 'cause you’re apparently going straight into a jaeger once you’re declared ready for it. Skipping training and all.” he asks with false nonchalance. Connor has no clue why Hank is asking these questions when he usually avoids this kind of thing like the plague, but he answers anyway.

    “I know I’ve been a nervous wreck since we first got here, but that’s mainly because Ritch and I have never been anywhere near as busy and overwhelming as this place can be. And it certainly didn’t help that we were trying our best to blend in with the herd and not stand out when we’ve spent the last decade learning how to do the exact opposite. Now that we’re slowly getting used to this place and not having to worry about holding back anymore, we’ll be able to show everyone exactly why we were able to graduate from this program so young.” he finishes confidently, head up and back straight.

    Hank just looks at him for a moment. Right as it starts making Connor unsure about his answer and has him coming up with things to distract from his bold statement, Hank nods and starts clearing his area. The ex-pilot makes eye contact with him with a strange, earnest look he doesn’t think he’s seen from the older man before.

    “I hope you will, Connor. Show ‘em what ya got.”

    Hank turns and leaves, leaving Connor with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

    The first thought that comes to mind after his thoughts have slowed down enough is man, I wish I had someone to tell about this. Of course, he’s sure that Simon, Markus, and Josh would listen (not North, though), but they wouldn’t understand why this is a big deal, especially since they still don’t seem to like Hank very much. For that same reason, Connor certainly can’t go to Ritch about this either, even with the fact that Ritch now voluntarily owes Hank a favor. Owing something to someone is different than tolerating them enough to listen to a twin get excited over the tiniest bit of encouragement and support from them.

    Connor quickly finishes his meal and cleans up before heading to the training area. If he’s going to prove to everyone that he deserves to stay here even though he and Ritch have lied multiple times on things that definitely should have gotten them thrown out, then he’s going to need a good partner.

    Traci is a good choice– and Connor’s first on his list– but she and Ritch get along easier with one another than she does with Connor. He doesn’t know exactly why, but she’s very hesitant around him and the atmosphere between them is awkward more often than not, so that’s probably a no-go. Jeremy could possibly work too, but his combat skill is too far behind for Connor to feel comfortable approaching him with something like offering a partnership. Plus, he doesn’t know much about his personality beyond “quiet” and “reserved”, so that is a bit of an issue. He’ll have to start some conversations with the other people on his list before he can properly narrow down–

    “Connor! Hey!”

    Unbothered by the interruption, he spins to greet Markus, then waves to Simon, North, and Josh who are close behind him. He pauses to let the four of them catch up before continuing on or saying anything.

    “I don’t think we’ve actually talked since the morning after the party. How have you guys been holding up with the training regime?” Connor asks with a smile.

    “It’s been hell,” North immediately complains, “and I know we haven’t even started the hard-core stuff yet. We’re just getting into shape and learning basics.”

    Markus nods in agreement, “You and Ritch are lucky you get to skip this.”

    “Maybe not so lucky…” Simon interjects, “That just means they’ve done all of this at an earlier age.”

    Don’t panic, don’t panic. They mean nothing by it, just don’t panic and make things weird, Connor chants to himself as he forces himself to answer aloud calmly with a shrug.

    “It wasn’t too bad. We were children with lots of energy when we started doing what you guys are doing now.”

    North and Josh nod together. It’s the first time he’s ever seen the two agree on something before. It’s almost frightening.

    “Traci started her self-defense and karate lessons when she was young, so it makes sense.”

    There’s a silence that Connor would describe as calm or peaceful that lasts for a few moments. He counts it as a win that he has managed to not visibly freak out like he is internally. He messes with his hair for a second to give his hands something to do in the hopes that maybe they’ll stop shaking if he does. Markus must catch the nervous movement for what it is, though.

    “You alright, Connor?”

    “Yea, I’m fine.” He plans on stopping there, but then he realizes that these four people are probably the best people he can go to for advice on making friends and finding potential partners. “I’m just worried about finding a partner, I guess. As you could probably tell, I normally don’t do too well around people I don’t know well.” Connor chuckles softly, but even he can tell that it’s somewhat off.

    “Any chance we could help with that?”

    Connor mentally blesses Simon as he says, “If you don’t mind, that would be amazing.”

    Josh smiles and comes around to Connor’s other side. “So what do you need help with?”

    He barely stops himself from saying everything short of learning the English language.

    “How did you guys know you could be compatible with one another? Because Ritch and I are technically compatible, but in reality we aren’t.”

    “So the difference between working well with another person and being drift compatible, you mean?” Simon clarifies, and Connor nods graciously. “I guess you wouldn’t have to learn too much about that since you were supposed to pair up with Ritch all along, huh?

    When Connor nods once more– again very thankful that Simon is insightful enough to figure this out without having to make Connor struggle to get a proper explanation out– Markus begins the explanation.

    “Well, I guess one difference is how well you know a person. Obviously, people who have known each other for longer are naturally going to be more compatible because they can be more in sync, but what we’re learning now in class is that that alone just isn’t enough to become jaeger pilots. Skill and mindset play huge roles in it too.”

    “Like the Hallowitts.” North offers. “They get along great and are as close as siblings can realistically be, but they are, by far, the least compatible pair in that room. I’d be surprised if they last another week here.”

    “I’m inclined to agree.” North snorts and Markus smiles at Connor’s wording, but he forces himself to pay it no mind. “As much as I’d like to think that everyone has an equal chance here, they just don’t. There’s a reason passing rates of the jaeger training are so low, and even those who pass aren’t guaranteed to become pilots.”

    Josh nods, “Exactly. Now, that being said, there are rare cases of two people who have never met being perfectly compatible.”

    “I guess the difference is how you mentally click with a person,” Simon jumps in, “Like you and Ritch don’t dislike one another, but you also don’t really get along or understand each other, right? Maybe at one point you did, but not anymore. You guys aren’t drift compatible because your mentalities and coping mechanisms are just too different, even though you both grew up in the exact same circumstances and have complimenting skill sets.”

    “So I find someone who understands the crazy things I do in certain situations and why I do it?” Connor asks dubiously.

    “And someone that can keep up with you, because damn, Connor, you and Ritch whooped each other’s asses on that first day.”

    Connor sighs heavily. He still has the aches from a couple of the worse bruises left over when he touches them, even though there are no more marks, because there hasn’t been any other training or exercises that have given him new bruises and scrapes so he can ignore the old ones. Don’t get him wrong, it’s nice to not have something he needs to actively ignore, but it’s yet another difference from what he grew up with and more proof that he’s in a completely different world now.

    Connor sighs again, with this one coming out as more of a groan than a true sigh. Where the ever loving hell is he supposed to find someone who can not only keep up with him in skill and not drag him down constantly, but also understand him and his trauma (if what Dr. Johan was going on about in their meeting yesterday is actually true for him, anyway) enough to know when to leave Connor alone and let him to his thing and when to step in to help.

    Ritch is relatively good at doing so, mainly because Connor usually likes being left alone, and Ritch always leaves him alone, but he doesn’t seem to understand Connor at all or care to learn the intricacies of him. He also doesn’t seem interested in letting Connor see any side of him that isn’t practically programmed by Amanda (the level of shock he felt when he saw and heard Ritch actually bantering with none other than Gavin Reed during the “Alex knifing” almost hurt. Why did it take such a publicly known asshole to bring out any kind of personality in Ritch? Why couldn’t Connor after his years of trying?).

    If his own brother can’t understand, then how can he expect anyone else to understand when they won’t have a clue of what he’s been through until it’s too late. He already opens old wounds over and over again with god-awful memories whenever he gets into a mood dip, he doesn’t want to scar anyone else who wouldn't even know what to expect, or worse, they think they do know what to expect. Although, how can they when he can barely think about it in his own head without going into panic-and-shutdown mode?

    “Hey,” Markus brushes his hand against Connor’s arm, gently bringing him out of his thoughts. He gets too lost in them too often.

    He nudges Markus’ hand kindly and says in a tone much more tranquil than he feels, “I’m alright. Just thinking of possible candidates.”

    “And?” North smirks. Count on her to try to lighten dark or awkward moods.

    “I’ve got pretty much nothing.” Connor chuckles much more genuinely than last time. If it has a tad bit of hysteria mixed in like he feels like it might, then no one reacts to it.

    At the four’s light insistence, he agrees to tell them why he believes he won’t match with anyone. He can’t look up from the floor at all. He tries to for half a second, but that makes everything so much worse about this situation, so he stares at his boots. If he tries hard enough, maybe he can forget that trying to explain this exact thing just a few weeks ago is what left him self-bedridden for a couple of days; maybe if he ignores hard enough, he can pretend that he’s talking to himself and there are only his footsteps instead of five sets in total. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he stops so the other four have to stop too if they want to listen. No more footsteps, problem partially solved.

    He can’t procrastinate that answer anymore.

    “I don’t know if you’ve been told this already, or if it’s just common sense to people, but in the drift, you share every single memory with person you’re pairing with. Certain events get more attention than others, obviously, and there is no known way to control what they both see or for how long. You just live through the other person’s memories as if you’re looking back on your own, and then look back on your own while a presence hovers over your shoulder and someone else’s emotions and reactions to events flow through the drift.” He takes another deep breath; his heart rate is getting too fast and his head is feeling too light.

    “And with that being said, I’ve got some real bad memories. Bad enough that Amanda used to try and convince me that they were just vivid nightmares. I think Ritch believes it’s a dream for whatever reason– or maybe he’s still on her side or something?– I don’t know, but it doesn’t work for me. I still can’t talk about it, but thinking like that and trying too hard to bury it is what made me break and sent me in that mood dip a while ago.” 

    He finally gets the courage to look up at the others and struggles to force his breathing to stay deep and slow. It helps that they only look concerned and surprised, rather than literally any other emotion his head was coming up with– fear and disgust, to name a couple. Although, he doesn’t know if the shock is a reaction to the information about what the drift is like, or to the fact that he’s actually talking instead of running and hiding in his room like he so desperately wants to.

    “I don’t want to scare anyone. I can’t live through those memories– not now, anyway– so how can I expect someone else to?” Connor shakes his head, trying to ignore the nausea that’s slowly but steadily growing. “I don’t even know how Ritch is gonna do it. I mean, the only people besides us who really know about this are you guys and–”

    Hank.

    Hank, who let him sit at his table on Connor’s first day even though he had a reputation of eating anyone who came near him alive, and had nearly done so to Connor at first. Hank, who stepped in and helped make him eat after his mood dip even though they had barely known each other for a couple days at most; who, almost immediately after, lead him back to his bunker (a place no one has been to in a long, long time, supposedly) so he could give him a weighted blanket and stress ball. Hank, whom Connor told he lied on essential paperwork when Hank was giving him a snack from his stash (another unheard of thing) and decided to tell Marshal Fowler to give him and Ritch a second chance instead of to get rid of them. Hank, who, despite saying weeks earlier “You’re still a kid to me”, had asked Connor to call him by his first name and has always treated him like a proper adult even though he is quite literally the youngest person on this base.

    Hank, who apparently loves (or at least used to love) dogs and, if the laugh lines and obvious protective instincts are anything to go by, used to be a kind, giving fellow who would laugh and smile easily; who now has to drown his traumas with alcohol and alcohol-induced sleep, not unlike how Connor drowns his own haunting memories with mind-numbing sleep brought by high-grade sleeping oils.

    No one makes– has ever made Connor as comfortable as he does, for whatever reason. It’s been years since anyone has been able to break down Hank’s walls like Connor has been doing effortlessly these past few weeks. They both have their issues, but Connor thinks that could help if they were to ever enter the drift together. Hank wouldn’t be scarred by his memories, and Connor doubts the ex-pilot’s memories could affect him any more than his own traumas affect him now. Besides, Connor has a feeling that he won’t be declared ready-for-battle as quickly as Ritch will be, so that’s plenty of time to wear Hank down, right?

    It’s not like the ex-pilot needs to do too much to get back into shape, anyway. Years and years of doing something over and over again makes every single technique and maneuver pure muscle memory that can’t truly be forgotten. That mixed with the fact that Connor based a lot of his own combat style on Hank’s and Marshal Fowler’s from when they were still active, they might fight better together than people would think. Plus, and Connor doesn’t think anyone else has noticed this between them averting their eyes from him and the hoodies he normally wears, but Hank is still rather built under that beer gut. He could probably carry Connor across the base if he really wanted to.

    Scratch that, he absolutely could if he tried, easily. He almost wants to test that some day. Maybe. Possibly.

    “Uhh, Connor? You good?” Josh tentatively 

    Connor shakes his head in wonder. “Yea, actually. I…”

    He pays close attention to himself, how his breathing is back to normal, the nausea and lightheadedness are almost gone, and he only just now realizes that his hands were shaking again because they don’t feel that way anymore. Yea, his heart rate is still a little high, but give it a few minutes and even that’ll be back to normal.

    He doesn’t trust this.

    “I feel fine. Way calmer than a minute ago.” He adds doubtfully, scrutinizing his own steady hands as if they can give him the answers he wants. “I think I found someone I may be compatible with, but I don’t even know if he’ll want to pair with me to pilot a jaeger. But even that made me feel better.” He looks around at the small group with uncertainty. “I’ve rarely calmed down that fast in my life, and never outside of my own room where I can be left alone to think.”

    North steps forward and carefully places a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Seems like you’re the plannin’ type of guy. You always feel better when you have a plan, and hate when you don’t, right?”

    Based on everyone’s light laughter and large smiles, he doesn’t hide his amazement and realization well enough. That makes sense, though, because he wasn’t trying very hard in the first place.

    “That… That makes a lot of sense. Perfect sense.” Connor smiles.

    He gestures forward, signaling that he’s ready to keep moving, and they all do happily. Connor doesn’t really stop thinking about how he could possibly get Hank to at least test their compatibility and get him warmed up to the idea of un-retiring.

    He doubts that Marshal Fowler would have a problem with helping him get Hank jaeger-ready if Connor can somehow prove their compatibility and Hank’s willingness to start piloting again. If he would have a problem with it, he doesn’t think Hank would be on the base anymore, let alone still bunking in the jaeger pilots’ hall. Marshal Fowler doesn’t seem to be the type to play favorites and put friends first, but Connor could always be wrong.

    As he slowly forms a plan in his head, he slowly becomes more at ease. It’ll take more in-depth thinking and several pages in his notebook, but where before he only had a vague hope, now he has a small chance, and that’s slowly becoming just enough for Connor.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

    Gavin is getting real tired of all this snooping around. He’s normally the type of guy to fling himself right into the thick of things and deal with the repercussions later; not because he doesn’t care about what kind of trouble he’ll get into later– at least not anymore– but because he doesn’t have enough patience to sit still and do nothing even though he knows there’s bad things going on.

    He tried to convince himself over the past couple of days to just do as Luther and Fowler said and not get involved in the “Alex Knife Supplier” case, as he’s been calling it in his head, but nothing has happened to his top suspects at all and he doesn’t want those assholes to get away scot free. It’s one thing to just be an asshole, it’s another to actively endanger the lives of coworkers and allies. Even he knows that.

    There’s still 20 minutes left of breakfast and he still hasn’t eaten or even entered the food court because he’s been too busy watching those assholes from afar in the hopes that he can catch anything that can bring up more of a case against them. He’d rather not tussle with them until he knows he can get into their bunker and confiscate whatever the fuck is in there, but right now it’s starting to look like he’ll have to tussle with them if he wants any evidence at all.

    “What are you doing, Reed?”

    Gavin instinctively spins around and throws a punch right at the man’s throat, but it’s expertly caught by none other than the Ritch Bitch. After a split moment of surprise from having his punch properly caught, rather than blocked or deflected (which other people have trouble doing sometimes), Gavin instantly scowls and rips his fist away from the other’s grip, silently hoping the goody-two-shoes decides against reporting him for assault or something like that.

    “Don’t fuckin’ sneak up behind me, asshole,” he sneers, “And it’s none of your god damned business. So fuck off.”

    Ritchie raises an unimpressed eyebrow– since when does this dude emote?– then tilts his head at him like a fucking dog. He shifts his gaze to the group Gavin’s been watching for the past hour.

    “Isn’t that the group Alex hung around before he was thrown out?” he asks in a weird tone, almost as if he was aiming for interest or teasing and fell flat.

    Gavin’s eyebrows rise in surprise for just a moment before settling back into a scowl. He hates how many times this prick has caught him off guard today.

    “M’ surprised you even know that. Thought you were too busy bein’ the top of your class to pay attention to what the others were up to.” he turns back to the group, watching them laugh about something Gavin would probably want to punch them over.

    Ritch steps closer to him, inviting himself into Gavin’s cover like an asshole, as he explains, “If anything, being the top of my class means I need to pay closer attention to the other trainees, since I’m somewhat a tutor and an example for them. But that’s besides the point, I know someone as impatient and conflict-hungry as you wouldn’t wait in the shadows without a good reason. What are you waiting for, hm?” the asshole taunts. At least he sounds more normal now. Gavin doesn’t know why, but it was really unsettling before.

    He huffs irritably, but doesn’t immediately taunt back. He may as well tell a part of it. If Ritch is right about being top of his class, then maybe he’ll have some new input, as much as Gavin hates the thought of needing someone else’s help. A mission completed with someone’s help is better than a mission failed with escaped villains, after all.

    “I think they had something to do with how Alex got his knives.”

    To his surprise, Ritch just nods in solemn agreement. “What’s stopping you from interrogating them?”

    Gavin huffs again, this time in irritation at the situation. “Fowler.”

    “Ah. You’re not supposed to get into it, but nothing has happened yet, yes?”

    Gavin whips his head around to glare at the human robot. He suddenly can’t be sure that that’s the expression his face actually makes, though, because the annoying asshole just nods like he’s confirming something to himself again.

    “Have you tried getting into their bunker to check for clues yourself?”

    When Gavin huffs, it comes out less irritable and more incredulous of how stupid this guy can be.

    “If I could do that I wouldn’t be fucking bothering with this, now would I?”

    The trainee just sighs and says, “Come on,” with a beckoning wave of his hand, then turns around and starts walking away. Gavin doesn’t move.

    “Where the hell do you think you’re going? And why the fuck should I follow your ugly ass?”

    “If you want to be caught and get us in some serious trouble, then sure, keep talking that loudly. Also, I’m almost interested in seeing the asses you’re used to looking at if you think mine is ugly.”

    Gavin barks a laugh that has very little amusement. What makes him think he can just start controlling the show out of nowhere like this?

    “You? Trouble? Aren’t you supposed to be, like, the golden child of the current gaggle of recruits or something?”

    Ritch spins around and looks at Gavin with an obviously forced smug and mischievous smile. “If you honestly believe that, then you’re just like everyone else here and have no clue how wide my skill set actually is.” He turns back around and starts walking again. “Come or don’t come, I don’t care.”

    It takes a second for Gavin’s brain to reboot because it’s obvious Ritch is obviously trying something new here and holy mother of god is it making him uncomfortable. This is not the Dicky Ritchy (that name was more than a stretch, never again) he’s been messing with for the past week or so. Once his head does reboot, though, his curiosity of what the hell baby-face is going to do and the irritation that he thinks he can one-up Gavin again wins over standing by the entrance of the food court and watching a bunch of assholes laugh a ways away as if they don’t realize they’re the scum of the earth.

    He speed-walks to catch up to Ritch, because it’ll be a cold day in hell when he’s seen running or jogging anywhere that isn’t to a jaeger or a kaiju. Once he makes it to Ritch’s side, the other speaks in a soft tone.

    “I don’t actually know where their bunker is, so you need to lead the way, unfortunately.” Gavin groans, but still pulls ahead slightly to lead. “How much time do you think we have until they return to the room, and are there any cameras?”

    Everything about this encounter with Ritch is throwing him the hell off– not just how strange the man is being– but he plays along anyway, never one to turn down some scheming.

    “The cameras in the pilot’s hall has been broken for months, maybe years. And the fucksticks will be out of the way for at least an hour. They always stay in the food court until they’re kicked out after breakfast is over, then they go to the gym for a while.” It’s why he avoids the gym like the plague in the morning.

    “Perfect.” he smiles with that same forced smile as before. Gavin’s had enough.

    “Okay, I wasn’t going to say anything, but you’re really startin’ to creep me the fuck out.”

    That rips the fake smile right off the robot’s face. Good, that was the main thing bothering him.

    “Am I?”

    “Yes.”

    “Oh.”

    There’s a silent pause, then Gavin’s starts talking partially because he fucking hates silences and partially because he needs to never see that kind of expression on Retch’s (he may actually use that one) face again.

    “So if I’m reading this right, you’re doin’ me a favor by apparently getting me into this dorm so I can raid their shit, right?” Ritch nods silently, so he continues, “Good. So I’m just gonna return the favor ahead of time and give you some advice because I hate being indebted to people. Got it, asstown?”

    Ritch turns his head to properly look at Gavin, then nods again, slower this time. There’s no smart ass comment to the insult, though, unfortunately.

    Gavin immediately launches into a half-taunting half-serious ramble, “Now I’m only gonna say this one time– so you better fuckin’ savor this, ‘cause I don’t do this shit for just anyone– but holy shit you need to stop making faces and using certain tones when you don’t actually want to. Like, you’re known for being a robot. You can’t feel emotions the way the rest of us can, or you just process them or show ‘em differently. That’s your thing, just like my thing’s being a fuckin’ dickwad all the time and Anderson’s is being a depressed drunkard.

    “Don’t try to go full human on everyone all of a sudden. Just stay fuckin’ blank if you wanna. Only cowards give in to peer pressure and shit.” Gavin huffs in exasperation. He’s is in a very huffy mood today, apparently. “I don’t like looking at your ugly-ass, baby-faced mug as it is, and it is so much worse when you try to smile or some shit like that when you’re obviously not feelin’ it. It’s fucking unatural is what it is.” He shivers and curls his lip in exaggerated disgust.

    Ritch just stares at him for a second, then states in his normal, flat tone, “The only unnatural thing here is how much you smell despite the fact you’ve been standing around and doing nothing for the past couple of days.”

    Gavin smiles evilly, secretly thankful that Ritch didn’t try to go down the genuine route and is instead continuing their normal interactions. Of all the nasty names under the sun he could call him, “unobservant” and “stupid” are two he can’t. “Emotionally oblivious” and “ignorant” or “naive”, however, are not off the table.

    “No, the unnatural thing here is that you’re a grown ass man and you use fruit-scented lotion.”

    Ritch gives him a weird look, but it’s at least genuine, thank god. “I do not use lotion, I simply shower everyday, unlike some people.” He pauses barely long enough to look Gavin up and down before continuing. “It’s not my fault you prefer what is obviously scentless men’s soap when women’s soap smells nicer and is less harsh on skin.” He faces front again.

    “Hold on,” Gavin wheezes, “You actually use women’s soap? Like, regularly?”

    “What of it? Are you not secure enough in your gender and sexual identity that using a soap with fruity smells that come in colorful bottles is too much for your poor masculine mind to handle? Poor baby.”

    Gavin wrinkles his nose. “Hell no. I’m gay as fuck but you still don’t see me using that girly shit. It’s a matter of preference, asshole. And I’m surprised you even know what gender identity even is, since you don’t seem to know much else about real humans.”

    Gavin doesn’t realize what he just blatantly admitted to until he’s done speaking. Of course he has to be enough of a dumb ass to officially come out to the one dude who was raised by an old woman. God damn it, he’s probably homophobic. At least it’ll give Gavin a reason to punch him the next time he gets irritated with him.

    Either oblivious to Gavin’s internal wariness or somehow reading his mind, Ritch explains in a condescending tone, “Amanda was insistent that we don’t treat people differently just because of how they identify, and one way of doing that was learning proper titles of people who aren’t ‘Male’ and ‘Female’ and other things your small brain would probably get bored with. But good for you for being just a normal ass and not a homophobic one. You’re slightly less likely to get punched now, anyway.”

    That… is actually pretty cool, the fact that Ritch apparently has no problem with anyone who isn’t cis-het. It’s a complete plot twist and surprise, but it’s cool to know that the dude would only hate him because he’s him and not because he’s gay. He’s been tired of the homophobic jokes and slurs since the 5th grade, so it’ll be refreshing to have someone that’ll skip right over that genre of insults with him, as refreshing as it can be when they’re ridiculing one another, that is (which can be damn refreshing, if you ask him).

    Gavin lets their talk end there as he slows down when they get close to the grease-heads’ bunker. He then silently checks the hall for anyone who could be watching or approaching, and quiets his voice down when he addresses Ritch, keeping a careful ear out for any footsteps or voices. He may be reckless half the time, but he’s not stupid enough to get caught breaking and entering someone’s private dorm.

    “Well, asshat, this is it. Work your robot magic and hack us in.”

    “It’s actually not hacking of any kind. I would ask if you want to learn how, but I doubt there’s enough room in your skull for a brain larger than a peanut with how huge your ego is.”

    An involuntary, offended squawk bursts out of Gavin’s throat, and after a short hesitation where he lets himself be embarrassed before moving on, he smacks Ritch on the arm. “Move over asshole. My ego ain’t that fuckin’ big, asshole, you’re mistaking me for yourself.”

    Gavin sees Ritch roll his eyes. “First, look at the keypad, you see the numbers that are more worn down than the others?”

    “2, 5, and 7? What about them?” Gavin replies in a more serious tone, suddenly a lot more invested in this than he thought he would be.

    “Those are the three numbers that are in the code. Basically, over time, as the same buttons get pushed over and over, the oils and pressure from fingers either wear down the ink of the numbers, or tint the glass over the buttons and give it a tan or brownish look compared to the other clear ones, depending on what kind of keypad it is.”

    “Okay then, genius, how do we know the order of the code, ‘cause–”

    “I wasn’t done,” Ritch interrupts, “The first button is usually the most worn down since the most oils rub off and degrade it more than the others, but in this case, since there are only three numbers worn down for a four code password, the most worn-down one is the one pressed twice, the next worn down is probably first. And when there are repeat numbers in a code as short as this, they’re rarely one directly after another.”

    “So the 2 is repeated, and the 5 is probably before the 7.”

    “Yes.”

    “What if the twos are actually right next to each other. What if they’re both first and last?”

    Ritch actually smirks this time. “I’ll be smart about it and we hope for the best.” Gavin gives him an incredulous look as he continues. “How many tries do we get to do this?”

    “Three. If you fuckin’ think you can–”

    “Watch and learn.” Ritch interrupts fuckin’ again as he gives his full attention to the keypad.

    He tries 5272 first and is denied, then immediately tries 2725 and the door unlocks with a small, green flash of light.

    Gavin doesn’t even know how to react. “What the fuck. I thought you said the 5 was first!”

    Ritch just nods and opens the door. “ I did, but there are other variables that I don’t feel like going over right now, we don’t have time to waste.” He nods to the door he’s holding open, “You go in and investigate and I’ll stand guard out here. I’ll knock if I think someone is coming so you can get out. Wouldn’t want you to get caught and rat me out to lessen your sentence, or have you get both of us caught in the first place.”

    “Ha ha. I’m glad you’re not coming in, anyway. You’d just get in my way, bitch.” He shoves past the trainee, purposely knocking his shoulder into his.

    “Close, but no cigar.” Gavin turns and looks at him in confusion. “My name is Ritch with an ‘R’, not a ‘B’. I can understand if you misread it, but mishearing it when you have no documented hearing problems is a different matter altogether.” He sighs dramatically while maintaining his straight face, which is kind of odd to witness, but not the same odd as before. “At least you’re learning, it was closer than ‘Dick’, anyway.” He finishes as he shuts the door.

    Gavin flips him off even though he won’t see it, then mumbles, “Fuck off, you prick.”

    Gavin quickly looks around the smelly, messy bunker. Time for the fun part.

    He knows better than to dig through places aimlessly and move things too much, so he goes to the tiny closets first. It’s crammed with useless stuff, but there’s nothing clearly illegal hiding in there and there doesn’t look like there’s a false back or bottom, so he closes it. The other personal closet is exactly the same– messy, but inconspicuous– so he moves on. He quickly checks under the bed (nothing) and on the top bunk towards the wall (again, nothing) before moving on to the bathroom.

    In the bathroom, the first thing that Gavin notices is that the mirror is slightly crooked, which shouldn’t be possible since the medicine cabinet behind it is welded to the wall. He opens it and it’s immediately apparent to Gavin that there is a false back; the cabinet is way thinner and more warped than his and Tina’s are, and all of these things are supposed to be basically identical. The fact that it’s empty only accentuates how wrong it looks because there’s nothing blocking the false back.

    He peels it back with ease and behind it is a stack of sheathed knives. Just judging by the handles of these weapons– and the fact that they were (poorly) hidden– they are definitely not pocket knives (the only knives permitted, since they’re mostly used for cutting wires and cables and are smaller, less harmful).

    Before he can do anything else about this new discovery, though, he hears the bunker’s door click open and shut again. Gavin’s in the middle of trying to figure out what to do when Ritch barges into the bathroom and grabs his arm.

    “Gavin, we need to get out of here!” Ritch hisses and grabs Gavin’s arm right above the wrist and yanks him out of the bathroom.

    He tries to yank and twist out of the trainee’s grip, but he isn’t successful. “Give me a second to grab–”

    “I don’t care! We need to go. Now!”

    Suddenly he’s being shoved further away from the bathroom. He hears the medicine cabinet slam closed, then the trainee tugs Gavin towards the bunker door with more strength than he expected. He tries again to pull his arm out of his grip, but Ritch moves his hand and presses his thumb into the sensitive part of the inside of his elbow. He’s yanked in a direction then hears the bunker door clicks shut behind them along with any possible evidence that he now knows for a fact is in there. He doesn’t even remember the code to the door anymore, all he knows is that the five isn’t first, so he can’t get back in.

    He takes a split second to look up and down the hall and sees that it’s completely empty. He could have easily grabbed at least one of those knives. Hell, even using his phone to snap a quick picture of the stack of them with the false back in view would be enough to warrant a search of their dorm– possibly even have them suspended immediately while the investigation starts– and this fucking prick pulled him out for no god damned reason.

     Overcome with anger, he blindly kicks out where Ritch’s knee should be. It works. The asshole goes down for only a second before he rolls into a crouched position facing him, his expression angry and hard. He gets up to his feet smoothly, but Gavin isn’t stupid enough to believe that his muscles are actually as relaxed as they seem, they’re combat-ready, and this asshole is three seconds away from getting his fight.

    “Gavin, cut it out. We need to go–”

    “No! Let me back in you fucking asshole! There’s no one here!” he shouts, spinning with his arms spread out wide, showcasing the nothingness that is in the halls. “You’re just being fucking paranoid. We need those–”

    Ritch suddenly punches him in the jaw. Gavin takes two steps back, but quickly rights himself.

    “I said. Shut. Up.” Ritch snarls, but his attention is on something behind him, and Gavin uses that to his advantage.

    He quickly throws a punch towards Ritch’s collarbone and throat area, but the little devil twists just in time for Gavin to only catch the sensitive part where his shoulder meets his pec. 

    At least that should bruise real nicely. Get what you deserve, asshat.

    He doesn’t get much more time to think about it, though, because there’s suddenly a fist coming straight at his face again, and he ducks. Gavin throws a punch to his gut, but his opponent spins out of the way. He then aims a punch to Ritch’s face, but that gets caught and twisted. He aims a kick at the asshole’s knees before it can get too uncomfortable, and even though Ritch loosens his grip to dodge the attack and he’s able to get his fist free, the trainee doesn’t go down like he wanted.

    There’s a moment of hesitation from both of them. It’s only long enough for Gavin to see Ritch scowling and to get himself in the position to effectively whoop some ass. His partner-in-crime-turned-opponent doesn’t take his attention away from him again, and instead uses the moment to study Gavin’s stance. He has no doubt he has the same kind of attentive scowl on his own face right now.

    Gavin makes the first move, moving as if he’s going to punch with his right hand when he’s actually planning to go to the left. Disappointingly, Ritch doesn’t fall for it, and catches his arm. Gavin dodges his attempt at tripping him, then aims a blow at the stubborn asshole’s neck. He ends up letting go in order to dodge Gavin’s move, but is back quickly with a punch of his own. He ends up catching and tries to shove Ritch into a more vulnerable position, but he ends up letting go to dodge a kick to his gut.

    This guy definitely has more skill than the average trainee, especially for one this new, that’s for sure. Although, that won’t change the fact that he’ll mess up or tire before Gavin will, and he’ll be in a heap of trouble and pain for blowing up the plan.

    The only thing that Gavin is able to focus on after that is where the next punch or kick is coming from and where there’s an opening for him to punch or kick back. One one hand, he’s feeling confident because he hasn’t been hit a single time beyond that first jaw punch. He’s been catching, blocking, and dodging all of his kicks and punches. He’s pretty positive that the only injuries he’ll have from this fight are maybe sore hands and some bruises on his arms from the amount of blocking and deflecting he’s doing.

    On the other hand, however, Gavin’s really starting to get pissed off because Ritch is taking about as much damage as he is right now, which is none. The damn asshole doesn’t even look tired yet. Not that Gavin’s getting tired– he can keep this pace up for a while longer– but what kind of trainee as new as Ritch is able to keep up with a well-seasoned pilot and brawler? He already knew Ritch was good, but he wasn’t supposed to fucking match Gavin like this in a fight.

    Once Gavin accepts that this won’t go anywhere unless he switches things up and stops playing by sparring rules, he lunges forward with most of his weight to punch Ritch in the diaphragm with the hope to knock the wind out of him. It almost works, but Ritch dodges at the last moment and kicks him in the back of the knees as he passes, making Gavin collapse roughly onto his hands and knees. Just before Ritch can pin him down, he shoves himself up into a handstand and his heel narrowly misses the asshat’s jaw as he leans out of the way.

    He sees Ritch quickly swoop his leg out to knock his arms out from under him, but Gavin springs up and flips back onto his feet. He spins to face his opponent and aims yet another punch to his face, but it’s caught and isn’t immediately released like before. A hand comes flying towards Gavin’s neck, but he blocks it, grabbing the other’s wrist and twisting his arm down. Ritch suddenly spins himself so his back is facing him, then grabs Gavin’s wrist and yanks him closer. Before he can do anything to prevent it, Ritch shifts his balance and flips him over his shoulder.

    Gavin somehow manages to twist himself so he can land in a low crouch and wastes no time in jabbing an elbow back. It doesn’t hit anything, but Ritch does loosen his grip so he get free. Gavin rolls out of the way before he can get kicked down, then grabs Ritch’s ankle as it returns to the floor. He stands, bringing his opponent’s leg up by his shoulder, but instead of toppling over like he expected, Ritch quickly switches his weight to his hands and latches his free leg around Gavin’s middle, and when he lets go of his ankle to shove the menace off, Ritch latches that one around as well. Gavin knows what comes next before it happens, and lets himself be twisted and forced to the floor by Ritch’s weight, allowing him to sit on top of Gavin’s chest.

    He lets this happen because he was able to control how he landed, and made sure his feet were planted on the ground just as his back hits the floor. He immediately jerks his entire torso off the ground before Ritch can properly situate himself again, and thus makes him topple over for just a moment. A moment is all Gavin needs, though. He spins onto his stomach and tucks his legs under him at the same time, then rapidly sits up and shoves his head up and back. Ritch dodges the headbutt attempt, and Gavin watches him roll backwards into a standing position as he spins and stands to face him.

    In that split moment of stillness where they’re trying to predict each other’s next move, Gavin suddenly realizes that, for the first time in literal years, he’s having genuine fun sparring with someone. It would probably scare him if he weren’t so focused on the surprisingly competent trainee. He doesn’t even have enough room to think about or process why he would or should be scared. God damn Ritch and his god damned surprises at it again, the fucker.

    Before Gavin can gather his head long enough to make the first move, Ritch suddenly jumps on him, somehow spinning so his thighs are clamped around his neck and head. He uses his weight to try to topple Gavin over, but Tina tried to do this to him one too many times before, so he knows to go to a wall so he doesn’t immediately go down. He then reaches up to twist and pull Ritch’s knee out to the side with his fingers pressing against the nerve bundle on the inside of it. Judging by the surprised noise Ritch lets out, he wasn’t expecting that, and he starts to slip. He suddenly shoves off the wall, leaving Gavin scrambling to regain his footing while keeping that knee tight in his grasp. Just before Gavin can properly get his balance back, Ritch leans back and slightly to the left, bringing them both down. His plan is faulty, however, because all Gavin has to do is put his hands down and land in a handstand and Ritch’s legs slip past his head, leaving him free to back handspring back onto his feet just as his opponent sweeps his leg where his hands used to be.

    Jesus, this is a lot more flipping than Gavin is used to doing. He can’t exactly flip in a jaeger and it’s been years since his gymnastics class.

    Feeling that his back is literally to the wall and watching Ritch flip back on his feet, still relatively untouched, he pushes off of it for more momentum, hoping he can take him by surprise or something. Just as Gavin reaches him, the trainee drops on onto his back and twists and curls at the same time. He doesn’t understand why until a boot hits the backs of his ankles hard and forces him down. Just as Ritch pounces to pin him down, Gavin turns onto his back and tucks his legs in. His opponent barely stops himself in time before he springs his legs up, so Ritch doesn’t get launched away like he was hoping. Gavin instead uses that momentum to sloppily flip into a crouch.

    He dashes up and nails Ritch in the gut with his shoulder and lifts him off the ground, ready to slam him back down to disorient him. He doesn’t get to because he flips forward out of his grasp. Next thing he knows, there’s an arm in front of his throat and he’s being shoved down and backwards, so he twists so he’ll land on his stomach and breaks his fall. He instantly twists and kicks his leg out to get Ritch on the ground too, but the asshole jumps to his other side. No matter, because now Gavin can wrap both arms just below his knees and he forces the man down hard. 

    He jumps up to get on top of Ritch, who is already rolling onto his back, but is held back by another set of arms. He immediately lashes out and knocks whoever was holding him back in the head, but it was enough to get his mind out of the fight just enough to understand that they’ve gained an audience at some point. Ritch must not have realized yet, though– or maybe he doesn’t care– because he sets himself into a crouch and Gavin is already shifting his weight to dodge right to avoid getting rammed into–

    “GAVIN! RITCH!”

    They both instantly freeze and go tense. Ritch’s eyes are wide with alarm and are focused beyond his shoulder. Gavin has a feeling that he and Ritch are thinking the exact same thing.

    Oh Shit…

    Gavin slowly, cautiously, spins around to face a very angry Marshal Fowler. There are around 15 other people who have apparently been watching the show, if the way Chloe is shooing them away harshly is anything to go by. There’s one burly man who looks like his job is probably moving heavy materials around here who is clutching his bleeding nose.

    In an attempt to put off dealing with Fowler for as long as possible– and maybe a little bit because he’s kind of concerned because he didn’t hold back on that headbutt at all– Gavin takes a step towards him.

    “Oh. Shit. Your nose isn’t broken, is it–”

    “Reed. Stern. My office. Now.” That voice was the worst one. Fowler is usually yelling or “not mad, just disappointed”, but that was the calm angry voice. And to make matters worse, it wasn’t “Gavin” and “Ritch”, it was “Reed” and “Stern”.

    Wait, “Stern”? Why does that sound familiar?

    Ritch lightly brushes his shoulder, silently urging him to follow the marshal. With one quick glance back to the injured man, who Chloe is now hopefully leading to a nurse, he does. They silently walk side by side and keep close enough to Fowler that he can hear their footsteps following him, but never get closer than five feet, as if they’re afraid he’ll randomly snap and start laying it on them. Who knows, he might. Gavin has never been in a fight that big before.

    God damn it, they are so fucked.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Previous <> Masterlist <> Next

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

A/N: I want to thank everyone who read this again, and thank you all for being so patient with me. I’ve had this chapter almost done since the middle of January and it’s been killing me to not be able to finish it and have it posted. But it was a crazy few months, then some other crazy stuff happened, then quarantine kind of zapped all of my motivation to do anything.

  But anyway, I hope this long chapter was worth the disgustingly long wait. I’m going to really try to get an update out every Monday, but I can promise that you’ll never go longer than a month without an update from now on. Comments (even if they’re just as simple as “nice chapter”) do wonders to motivate me! And I also have oneshot requests open to help motivate me! Here’s a list of ships I’ll write for!

Thank you for reading (and powering through me super long note) and I hope you stay safe and have a wonderful day/night! 💕💖

[meangirlsx]

The End You Meant for Me (Part 2)

Pairing: Lydia Deetz x reader Word count: 2758 Warning(s): None Request: “Okay so like Lydia and her girlfriend spending a second christmas together and reader gets everyone in the house a gift, even beetlejuice! Lydia sees this as a huge step in their relationship because she sees how much her girlfriend has changed in a year considering she was very nervous, felt bad only getting Lydia a gift. To how shes more open and friendly with Charles and Delia, how she pokes fun at Beetlejuice, and how close she is to Adam and Barbara. Lyds is just head over heels in love.” and “Would you mind doing a Lydia x Reader (or Cady x Reader if you still write for Mean Girls) during the holidays? Christmas perhaps?” Note: MAJOR thank you shoutout to @sophiascaruso​ for coming up with literally all of the gifts the reader gives (including input on the gifts to Lydia) and talking through thoughts with me as I wrote this. She is magical and very possibly a modern-day muse in disguise.

And a special thank you to @spooky-scary-lesbian for sending a request that prompted my brain to produce way too many words that I’m way too excited about. Very excited to share the words with you all.

Part 1  Part 3

——

It felt like forever for Christmas to come, and somehow like no time had passed, too. But finally, it was here.

You got up so you had enough time to run out before meeting Lydia. You wanted to visit Emily.

Lydia had told you she was going in the morning, and you thought about asking to join her, but you thought it might be nice for her to have the time just between her and her mom. She had also told you that she had to finish wrapping presents between visiting her mom and coming over to your place, which gave you a good idea of when Lydia would be back at her apartment.

So you bundled up and headed out.

You weren’t the only one at the cemetery, which didn’t really surprise you. A lot of people probably wanted to visit loved ones on Christmas.

It felt strange walking up to Emily’s grave alone. You’d only ever gone with Lydia before.

You saw two bouquets of flowers lying there. One was from Lydia, you knew. The other was probably from Charles.

“Merry Christmas, Emily,” you said. “I brought you something. It’s not flowers, but…”

You pulled out two ticket stubs from a horror movie you and Lydia had seen around Halloween.

“It’s not quite the same as your haunted houses in summer, but I’m doing my best…” You placed the ticket stubs against her headstone. “I always do my best to take care of her. Look out for her. Celebrate Halloween to the fullest extent. In your honor.”

You took another breath to calm your nerves. You knew you had no reason to be nervous, but that didn’t stop you from feeling it.

“Charles gave me your locket to give to her. He probably told you that. It means everything to me. She means everything to me. It’s an honor to be part of such a special family tradition. I’m going to give it to her tonight.”

You took a moment and breathed in the cold air.

“I’m also going to propose to her tonight. Charles probably told you that, too. But I wanted you to hear it from me. And you know? I’m nervous. We’ve talked about it before, of course. It’s not like I’ll be springing the idea on her. I know she wants to get married. I kind of still can’t believe it when I think about it. I’m just so in awe of her. Every day.”

Your mind drifted to all the stories Lydia and Charles had told you about Emily over the years. The things Lydia said she learned from her mom. The ways Charles told you Lydia was like her.

“And it sounds like there’s so much of you in her. I can’t imagine how proud you must be of her.”

You sighed and watched your breath turn to fog.

“I know you’ll be with us tonight. I won’t really see you then, but… Thank you for welcoming me into your family.”

You had nothing else to say, but you weren’t quite ready to walk away, so you stood there for another minute before heading home.

Back at your apartment, you finished getting ready and cleaned up some until Lydia arrived. She helped you bring the cookies you’d made together and your presents for her family out and pack them in the car with hers.

“I’m so excited to be with your family for Christmas again,” you told Lydia as you rearranged some presents in the trunk. “It was so nice of them to invite me last year when I didn’t know them that well. I know I didn’t know them well enough to, but I still feel bad I didn’t have presents for them. I’m so ready to change that this year.”

When she didn’t respond, you picked up your head to see that she had stopped packing the backseat and instead started staring at you.

“What?” you asked.

She glanced at the presents piled up in the backseat, then back at you. “It’s just such a change from last year. You were so nervous. And you won everyone over right away. Not that I expected them to react any differently.” She smiled at you. “I knew they’d love you as much as I do. But you’re so close to them, now. My dad asks about you all the time. I’m still convinced Delia thinks you’re secretly a god. I’m pretty sure Barbara and Adam would adopt you if they got the chance. BJ always asks where you are when I visit on my own. Even Big Sandy gets excited when you come over with me.”

You smiled at her.

“I’m just really happy. And that catches me a little off-guard sometimes. My fifteen-year-old self would hardly believe this is where she would end up.”

You couldn’t help but think about how far she had come, too. You knew her fifteen-year-old self wouldn’t have been comfortable saying all of that, either.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy.” You crossed to her and took her hand. “I’m happy, too.”

She gave you a quick kiss, then climbed into the driver’s seat.

When you arrived, the greetings were the same as at Thanksgiving. And as two weeks ago when you and Lydia had come over again.

Charles, however, seemed especially happy to see you. Truth be told, you felt the same way.

Beetlejuice had already started updating Lydia on an adventure he’d had since the last time he saw her, so Charles hugged you and whispered, “Are you still…?”

“I am. After presents. If I can get her away for a minute.”

He placed his hands firmly on your arms and gave a squeeze.

“The house looks beautiful,” you said, looking around at all the directions.

“Thank you. It has a little bit of everyone in it.”

He was right. There were some classic decorations, which you figured were his. Some were sparkly and more eccentric, which screamed Delia. Some were cutesy and dorky in the best way that could only be Barbara and Adam’s doing. A handful of decorations had a very specific color scheme of green and purple, from Beetlejuice, you figured. And some looked almost more like Halloween decorations.

Charles noticed your confusion and laughed.

“Lydia insisted we get them our first Christmas in the house. We haven’t put them up since she went to college, but she found them again this year and we had to put them up.”

“I love them. None of it really goes together, and somehow they blend perfectly.”

It wasn’t long before you all ended up in the kitchen to help cook. Beetlejuice didn’t touch any food, which was probably for the best, you thought. He proudly proclaimed that he would be moral support instead.

Barbara and Adam truly seemed in their element, rattling off recipes and sharing tips. They seemed thrilled. Really, everyone did.

Everything with the family was an adventure, even cooking and eating, and you kind of loved that.

After dinner and cleaning up, you all gathered in the living room. Charles and Delia made themselves comfortable on the couch. Barbara and Adam pulled up chairs from the table even though they didn’t really need them. Beetlejuice happily hovered between the two couples. There was still room on the couch, but you and Lydia sat on the floor by the fire.

You loved seeing everyone’s reactions as they opened their gifts from each other. You especially loved being part of it this year.

For Beetlejuice, you had gotten a pair of Crocs with one in purple and one in green, a shirt with the phrase “Give me a BJ,” and bugs, which had prompted a handful of questions from the saleswoman at the pet store about what kind of reptile you had. He reacted with a gasp, a hand over his chest, and a “You get me.”

For Adam, you had gotten a couple pairs of jean shorts and a couple pairs of white socks. You thought he was going to scream, he looked so excited. “I think I just leveled up in Dad! Oh, I can wear these with my Birkenstocks!”

“I thought you were kidding when you said you got him jorts,” Lydia said softly to you.

You just laughed.

For Barbara, you had gotten an assortment of seeds for her garden, gardening gloves for sentimental reasons even though she didn’t really need them, and a sun dress. She gave you the biggest hug. “I can’t wait to see how these little babies grow!” she said. “And this dress is gorgeous. I’m going to wear it tomorrow. Thank you.”

For Delia, you got a pair of sunglasses and a faux fur coat she’d tried on when you went shopping together but told herself she didn’t need. Unlike Adam, she did scream. “Oh! You remembered! I’m so glad because I’ve been thinking about them and I really do need these.” She immediately put them on, chucked her phone at you, and struck a pose. “Will you take my picture? Do I look like a celebrity?” You took a long string of photos as she moved through pose after pose. Everyone assured her she did look like a celebrity. And she really did.

For Charles, you got a tie, a bottle of whiskey, and a pair of tickets to the opera for him and Delia. Of course his reaction was more subdued than the rest of the family’s, but it was just as sincere. “I can wear this tie to my business dinner next week. I was going to get a new one for it. And this is my favorite whiskey, but it’s hard to come by. How on Earth did you find it?”

Delia grabbed his arm. “I can wear my new coat to the opera!”

“I actually also got something for Big Sandy,” you said.

Beetlejuice looked touched, and so did Lydia.

You picked up her gift and headed outside. You didn’t intend on it, but everyone stood in the doorway to watch.

Big Sandy approached you as soon as you stepped out of the house.

“Hey, girl,” you said with a smile. “Merry Christmas.”

She ripped the package with her teeth to reveal a hat and scarf. She let out a sound that sounded like a mix between a shriek and a chirp.

“I’m glad you like it,” you said with a laugh.

You helped her put them on, and she nuzzled into you.

Now the last gifts to be exchanged were between you and Lydia. You hadn’t planned it that way, but the way the adults had sort of steered the gifts up until then, you realized they had planned it.

“I want to go first,” Lydia said. “I’m really excited about your gift. But also a little nervous.”

That confused you. “I’d love anything you got me. It’s from you.”

She smiled and handed you the gift. It was a small box, nicely wrapped and even complete with a bow.

You placed the bow off to the side and unwrapped and opened the box carefully.

“A key?” you asked, looking back up at her.

“We’ve been talking about finding an apartment together, and I didn’t want to do it without you, but I came across one that was perfect. It has everything we’ve been talking about. And it’s even close to here… So I got it.”

“You got us an apartment?” you asked, almost in disbelief.

“I did.” She did look nervous, and now you understood. She was worried you might be upset that she had chosen a place without you.

You threw your arms around her. “You got us an apartment! Oh my God.”

Her arms wrapped around you in turn. “Also…”

“Also?” You pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes again.

“The building accepts cats. So I called the shelter, and they said the black cat we saw last week is still there, so if you want to get her…”

“Yes!” You hugged her again. “I absolutely want to get her.”

You felt Lydia tighten her grip on you.

“A cat,” you said. “In our own apartment.”

Lydia laughed, and you finally let go.

The moment had felt as if you and Lydia were alone, but you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were not. You looked out at the rest of the room. Beetlejuice had his arms crossed like he was at ease, but he was smiling and shaking his head as if he were saying, “Took you long enough.” Barbara’s hands were clasped together in front of her chest. Adam had his hand on her knee, grinning. Delia’s hands were pressed together against her mouth. And Charles’s entire face was just lit up. He looked proud and happy and impressed all at the same time.

You turned back to Lydia. “Thank you. I can’t wait to see the apartment.” You smiled again. “I can’t wait to live there.”

“I have pictures on my phone,” she said. “Do you want to see?”

“Of course!”

“Me, too!” Delia said.

“You guys haven’t seen?” you asked.

“Oh, no, we have. I just want to see them again.”

You and Lydia laughed, and everyone gathered behind the two of you to watch as Lydia swiped through the photos.

It really did look perfect. It was beautiful. It had all the features you were hoping for. And you did love that it was close to her family.

“It looks amazing, Lyds,” you said.

She smiled at you, then tapped on her phone quickly to text the pictures to you.

“Okay,” you said. You picked up your gift and handed it to her.

“Also a small box,” she said. “Don’t tell me you got us an apartment, too.” She laughed, and it almost sounded nervous, but she continued to unwrap your gift.

When she removed the lid from the box, she froze. Her eyes went wide. The entire room felt like it went still.

“Isn’t this…?” her voice trailed off.

“Yes,” Charles said.

She turned to look at him. “I thought it got lost in the move?”

“It did. At least, I thought it did. But I found it just before Thanksgiving.”

“And you gave it to Y/N.” She faced you again. She looked like she had more to say, but instead, she threw herself at you with such strong force that you had to stabilize yourself with one arm. The second you knew you were stable enough to keep both of you upright, you were holding her tightly with absolutely no intention of letting go until she did.

After what seemed like maybe a full minute, you parted.

She looked at the locket again. “I wish my mom had gotten the chance to meet you. She would’ve loved you.”

“I’m sure I would’ve loved her.”

“She would have been delighted to see the two of you together,” Charles said.

Lydia glanced up and around the room. “She is. She might not be with us, but she’s watching. I have no doubt.” She paused, then added, “It’s Christmas.”

Charles gave her a gentle smile. “You’re absolutely right. And I believe she’s thrilled to know Y/N is the one to help carry on the tradition.”

Lydia reached out to run her thumb across the back of your hand. “Me, too.” Then she tugged on your hand and stood up. “I want to go put it on and see how it looks.”

You knew the tug meant she wanted you to go with her. That would be time alone with her you didn’t have to manufacture yourself. It was a little sooner than you’d expected, but all the presents had been opened, and you were about ready to start thinking of reasons to ask her to show you her old room or sit on the back porch with you even though you were there to spend the holiday with her family.

You could feel everyone’s eyes on you as Lydia made her way to the staircase. You knew they were all thinking the exact same thing as you.

If she had just wanted to see the necklace in a mirror, she could’ve gone to the bathroom on the main floor, you realized. But she was heading upstairs to her old room, and she wanted you to go with her. She didn’t know you were going to propose, but she was creating a moment for the two of you just the same.

So you grabbed your purse and followed Lydia up the stairs.

——

Part 3  (linked at the top, too, but also here for convenience)

Tag list: @mars-bars-stars, @reader-ships, @anxiousankylosaurus, @msmith74, @broadwaymusicaltrash, @you-thinks-wrong-romeo, @theatricalwriter, @be-more-heidi-hansen, @peachy-jolly, @g1ngersp1ce, @trumancheerleadermaui, @dancewyou, @percabeth15, @coral-cat-iris, @madameboxhead, @elaineygrace, @theolwebshooter, @dontgotothenetherworld, @ohsomightykeyboard, @vampireamango

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[faedawayyy]

THIS IS POST 2: CHARACTERS WHO HAVE SOME STORYLINES AND PLOTS ALREADY BUT AREN’T NEARLY AS ESTABLISHED AS THEY COULD BE. THEIR PLOTS WILL INCLUDE MORE LOOKING FOR LOVE AND MESSINESS BECAUSE THEY DON’T HAVE AS MANY COMMITMENTS AS THE ONES IN POST ONE.

MILES

the only carmichael boy who is officially single from his household. i feel like this has definitely caused his mum to push her attention on to him, particularly because he lives at home. she definitely wants him to settle down with somebody and at the moment, he fake dates arabella to keep her happy but there’s more i can get out of this. SOOOOOOO...

- HIS PLANNED GIRLFRIEND/WIFE: this was charlie at one point but she has more with leo now so it doesn’t really make sense. somebody from a wealthy family who his parents wanted him to end up with. maybe they’re constantly pushing them together but the two of them HATE each other with a passion and do everything they can to mess up their parents plans. - FWB: he’s been in the shadows for quite a while which isn’t a surprise given how much leo, mason and brody have going on. but, now he’s getting a bit older, i think he’d be more confident in himself and i can totally see him hooking up after events and stuff and having a few fwb. it’d be cool if these had different dynamics too like unrequited crushes/people using him for fame etc.  - MALE FRIENDSHIPS: he’d definitely hang out with people in his family’s circle but also people who are different and come from different walks of life. as a general rule, he’s chill and not big on aesthetics and appearances if that helps anybody! 

NATE

HE’S LIKE MY 2021 DALLAS AND THAT’S THE DIRECTION I WANT TO MOVE HIM IN. he’s a rising star in terms of his music and also has a minor acting and modelling career. he definitely gets the right amount of hype too so i think he’s the best choice out of my new guys to really give like the whole ‘rising star’ thing. i have QUITE A FEW ideas for him bc i’m excited! 

SIDE NOTE: him and imogen aren’t officially end game. like they might be? but what i’m trying to say is me and nadine haven’t plotted anything like that. their official plot is that they were dating behind charlie’s back when imogen was with charlie. now imogen isn’t w.charlie, they flirt and hook up but are p.toxic and argumentative. 

- FWB/RUMOURED PARTNERS:  this one goes w/o saying. i think i’m going to cap the plot at about 3 (not including imogen). maybe 3 different girls he’s linked with and has his own thing with. bonus points if one of these is a PR arrangement and it doesn’t go any deeper than public appearances.  - SECRET SHARERS: so with his career getting bigger, i think he’d be more serious about keeping his secret which is basically back in high school, him and a few of his friends are responsible for leaving another guy in a coma (he’s still in it now) after they spiked his drink to stop him from exposing them for cheating their way into st judes. i need maybe 3 or 4 people who all had a hand in this but we can work it out together. 

- FRIENDS/PEOPLE HELPING WITH HIS CAREER ETC.

EZRA

i’m kinda stuck with ezra. i have ideas but i dont know what the best way to execute them will be? so, he obviously has his son - nicolas - who is being raised by his mother atm. he’s natalie’s son; ezra and natalie were high school sweethearts but have gone their separate ways, they coparent as much as they can. this year ezra has got closer to madison and then felicity but in both relationships found they weren’t really satisfied with just him and flirted with others...so he’s kind of in a weird place. - PLATONIC FRIENDSHIP: maybe someone who knows all about his son and has helped ezra raise him/keeping it all a secret. it would be strictly platonic. i think she/he would be ezra’s best friend and they wouldn’t have any grey area. there’s no romantic feelings but the bond is strong. 

- EX: in between natalie and then felicity/madison. maybe they broke up because he wanted to focus on nicolas and didn’t have enough time for their relationship but there’s still feelings there. i just want somebody who genuinely loved/wanted him at one point and doesn’t always find someone better :’) we could develop how things unravel in 2021.

LUKE

luke’s father is the head of film at st judes and he has a lot of pressure on his shoulders to do well. at the moment, he’s in his good books because he’s a key part of the harry potter movies which is really pushing him and boosting his profile. he’s very focused on his work but also wants to branch out and make more connections. he’s currently interested in athena but i want to dig into his past a little more.  - EX FRIENDS/RIVALS: a friend that luke grew up with and they both went into acting, that’s when the friendship became toxic. they were always trying to outdo one another and it’s continued on to this day; they both have good careers but aren’t satisfied unless they’re doing slightly better than the other one; this can be m or f. 

- HIGH SCHOOL GIRLFRIEND: he went to gallagher high school. i think it’d be interesting if they were dating and looked as if they’d be typical high school sweethearts. maybe the plan was to live in one of his parents place, get regular jobs and settle down but then he chose his career/st judes and broke it off because it got too serious too soon. bonus points if she still hasn’t fully let him go bc she truly did love him. 

- COMPLICATED EX: an ex he dated at the beginning of st judes and it just got toxic very fast. maybe the reverse of his high school girlfriend - she fell out of love with him/was stringing him along and now there’s a lot of tension.

- WILDER FRIENDS: he’s very clean cut at the moment and has pressure to be a good example for others bc his dad is so linked to the academy, but maybe friends who tempt him to go out more and enjoy this time/make memories/do crazier things.

TAEWAN

ok ok i’m getting bored but for taewan, it’s very similar to luke. BTS are really going to be pushed to be the best next year and this is going to create both new and break old connections for him sooooooo take a look.

RIVALS/INDUSTRY ENEMIES - artists who work just as hard, if not harder, than BTS but don’t see half of the benefits with advertisement and getting prime performance spots at award shows. i think there’ll even be rumours than BTS buy some of their awards. he’d 100% have enemies by this time next year and would lowkey be sad about it bc he knows BTS are in the wrong, but also his career means too much to just admit it. P.R. GIRLFRIEND - a girl who’s a rising star too and he’s placed in a fake relationship to boost both of their profiles. it’d need to be a relationship where they clash and do not get along with one another bc i think that’d be fun. maybe they grow to like each other or be at least friends in the end but !!! the more tension the better tbh.

LOVE INTEREST/BEST FRIEND - i feel like he’d have one person who is currently his best friend and they’ve always kind of had feelings for each other...but now BTS are blowing up and management are getting involved with who he’s seen with and who he can be with, their friendship is breaking down massively and they’re drifting.

BRIELLE

brielle has just moved in with imogen and park and she’s been thrown into like, the world of old money and the richest family’s in violet springs. she’s experiencing so much new for the first time. imogen and her friends have kind of taken brielle under their wing & her life has kinda separated into two.

PEOPLE WHO KNOW HER FROM THE STRIP CLUB - i’ve literally been begging for this connection since i had her. her main source of income is stripping and dancing at a sketchy club in london. i’d love to have someone who sees her regularly and even pays for her to perform for their. i feel like it could either be they become infatuated with her through it OR they lowkey do it as blackmail to make the point that they’ve always got something over her.  OLD FRIENDSHIPS - people who have NO connection to the richer families and are friends with brielle from before. they know about her getting closer to imogen and the hamiltons and brielle is almost like their eyes on the inside, and they meet up and just gossip about everything that brielle has experienced. maybe one of these friends get a little jealous at some point and accuses her of forgetting who her real friends are/changing? NEW FRIENDSHIPS - people who DO have connections to that whole circle. maybe they get closer to brielle through events that she comes to with imogen OR they kind of mock her and treat her like an outcast. i definitely think she’d encounter some mean girls.  ALSO new friends with benefits because why not! there’re so many possibilities. i’m just getting tired of typing LOL

YULIA

yulia currently lives in the home of the family she nannies for. this job funds her scholarship at st judes, but she tells everybody that those people are her parents and sisters. she gives off the impression that she was born rich and doesn’t mention her real family to anybody because she’s ashamed. she has a lot of self hatred when it comes to where she came from and is v.much continuing with ‘fake it ‘til you make it’.

GUYS SHE USES FOR PUBLICITY/MONEY - i think yulia wants nothing more than to be legitimately rich, so she’d be very picky about the guys she flirts with and gives her time too. she’s probably more determined to get a rich and famous boyfriend than she is about having a successful film career. her priorities are all over the place. 

SOMEONE WHO HELPS HER CONTINUE HER LIE - maybe one or two friends who know she’s a nanny and they aren’t her family - but she doesn’t know that they know that. however, because they like her and/or feel bad for her, they play along and help her continue her lie.

ELOISE

eloise is the oldest calloway sister and even though she’s technically a “half” sister, she’s been raised with the other girls and is very close to them - especially zara. she’s the sensible one and often has the most level-head. she doesn’t take much shit but is also a hopeless romantic and loves to be in love. she really doesn’t have much at all right now so i could do with lots of different plots:

childhood friends, people who were like sisters to her when her real sisters weren’t. 

an ex boyfriend and her first boyfriend. i feel like the break up would’ve hurt because she’s v attached to people 

a close friend who has a ridiculously big crush on her atm; boy or girl idm! i feel like eloise wouldn’t know at first and maybe freak out when she finds out and we can see what happens from there 

maybe friends/guys who have used her to get to her sister(s)

MARGO

MY BABYYYYYYY. margo is legit my favourite and thats saying a lot bc you guys know how much i love issy and hensley. she’s basically signed herself out of rehab and takes advantage of the fact that dallas is working SO hard to get everything done. she has a huge tendency to buy and drink her feelings away SOOOO.....

ENABLERS - i kind of want her to get in with ‘the wrong crowd’, and by that i mean like...people who don’t rly care that she’s an addict and want to have fun with her. i have a really specific connection in mind where they’re fwb but it’s no good for her; BUT she’s kind of easy and happy to have sex hjkl; so they just keep her on standby.

OTHER FWB - i really want her to just go through a massive sleeping around stage. i haven’t really found someone she ‘clicks’ with. she relies LOTS AND LOTS on park and even though they’re not romantic, he’s her safe space. but i think there’d be a lot of other people in her life who she gets different things from. some ideas could be excitement, or people who baby her, or someone who maybe cares a lot about her & its their only way of being in contact.

EX FRIENDS - friends who gave up on her after she went to rehab and became a mess. she’d hate them bc as tough as she acts, she HATES HATE HES being abandoned. that’s why she clings to park and disney sm, bc she knows that they’ve been her friends since the beginning. 

[hamyheikki]

Day 2 “Letters”

I am so behind with the challenge, and for that I apologize! Not feeling the greatest as of late, but making these is proving to be a bit helpful.

The order has been issued: All personnel currently situated in the Shatterdome must be ready to depart in two week’s time. The war was over, nation wanted their land back, and even though there had been suggestions about using the base as a research site going forward, the idea had been shut down by the government. And so, in the windy morning few days after the battle, the halls of Humanity’s Last Stance are filled with soldiers, pilots and mechanics, all running past and over each other in their hurry to try and gather their belongings before the deadline. Corridors, narrow to begin with, are piled up with suitcases, metal-sealed chests and pieces of furniture. It was getting difficult to move around

And yet, not everybody is part of the hassle. Sitting on one of the containment boxes, Mako merely watches as her comrades rush around. She had knew this was coming from the moment they hit the shores after the final mission, it only being a matter of time. Over the last days, she has already put away all her personal items of importance, tossing away everything she couldn’t see herself needing in the near future, and therefore having nothing left to tend to. It was calming, in a way, to merely sit and let the scene play out before her without taking part of it. She had been in the focus of so many eyes lately, it was a relief to simply... be.

But as many things in life, it was not meant to last. A sudden movement to her left catches her attention, and when she turns to look, she notices a young soldier standing a few feet away. He has a clipboard in his hand, and a nervous smile on his face.

“Uhh... Ms. Mako Mori?”

“Yes.” Out of habit, she jumps up from her seat, coming to stand face to face with the man. “And you are?”

“A... A private Lewis, ma’am! From 6. division!” He makes a hasty salute, one which Mako waves off immediately. The younger members of the Shatterdome teams had taken it upon themselves to start to salute the personal who were intimately connected to the shutting of the Breach, and while she appreciated the gesture, it had, from the start, made her uncomfortable.

She could see the tension leaving the man’s body as she offers a small, relaxed smile. “At ease. Was there something you needed from me?” The clipboard isn’t in her direct line of sight, so she can’t quite make out what is being written on it. From a quick glance, it looks like a schedule. 

Lewis’ next words confirmed her suspicions. “Yeah! Hansen - Uhh, the Marshal asked me to pass a request on for you.” He glances down at the papers, scanning for a moment. Eventually he finds what he’s looking for. “He asked if you could go and help out with the dismantling of the K-science wing? Apparently they are running late with the departure preparations.”

A small smirk climbs on her lips before Lewis makes it to the end of the sentence. Of course, she has been keeping an eye out for two men still lurking in the lowest floors of the Shatterdome. To her, it had been obvious from the very start that doctors Gottlieb and Geiszler would be the last people to leave the base, and in case of Geiszler in particular, it might require someone literally carrying the man out of the door. She doesn’t judge though. The Dome has been a home for them just as long as it has been one for her, and the idea of it suddenly being shut down doesn’t sit well with some of its residents. Especially those who had been there for years.

But it had to be done. And the faster, the better.

“Understood. I’ll see what I can do,” she says, picking up her satchel from the ground. “You can tell Marshal that it’ll be sorted out.” 

With that, she spins around and starts to walk to the maintenance elevator.

------

“You know bloody well how long it took for me to program that! Unlike your mindless poking, my work cannot simply be rammed into an under-powered fridge for transport!”

“It’s a disk, Hermann! An ancient fucking disk, which nobody has used since the invention of a thumb-drive! Can’t you just, I dunno, copy it all on a device that hasn’t been memed by the whole population of Earth since 2005?”

“Copy... ! Do you have any idea how delicate that information is, one can’t just copy and paste it on multiple -”

 “Doctors?”

It was quite unsettling how in sync the two men move nowadays. As both of them fall silent and turn to look at her standing by the door, she can clearly see the effect left behind their shared Drift. They are very close to each other, few inches apart and yet seemingly still not close enough. Out of the two, Mako had always felt Dr. Gottlieb to be the more reserved one by far, but now, he is just as, if not more animated as Dr. Geiszler. She had walked in and ended up in the middle of a bickering battle, but after witnessing the two go head to head for ages now, she had noticed the difference in the atmosphere. Biting, sharp-witted, yes. But completely in sync.

Geiszler’s bright smile, however, hasn’t changed in the slightest. “Mako!” Hastily moving towards her, his grin grows ever wider. “Didn’t know you were coming! Sorry about that,” he points over his shoulder to his partner, who merely rolls his eyes, “we’re kinda in the middle of something.”

“So it’d seem” Mako answers and once-over around the room. It does looks as though they have been putting away some larger pieces of machinery Mako remembers being here in the past, but all of their personal items, as well as a great deal of papers, formulas and kaiju samples are still very much present in the lab. “You were... cleaning?”

“We were, until someone decided to throw a fit over a floppy disk.”

Gottlieb jumps in just then, posture rigid: “It was not a floppy disk, Newton! It is a memory disk, containing a large -”

“ - large part of the original Jager code! I know, you keep repeating that!” Geiszler’s eye-roll is nearly identical to the one Gottlieb had displayed just a second ago.

“Then I cannot fathom why you insist on my concerns being unfounded -”

“Because you think that your precious disk cannot handle a short flight back to UK! It’s not made of glass, Hermann!”

“Oh, so it is perfectly acceptable for you to worry about those slime-balls you stacked in the container, but not for me to be concerned about of my life’s work?”

Before Geiszler can bark out a new reply, Mako raises her own voice. “Gentlemen, please. There is supposed to be cleaning going on, yes?” She makes a meaningful circle in place, gesturing to the room. “And the man upstairs is beginning to turn impatient.”

The shared widening of the two pairs of eyes is comical in its own right. Geiszler is the first one to recover.

“So... Hansen is not too pleased, huh?”

Mako shakes her head. “No. I was sent ahead, as a peace negotiator I suspect.” The comment brings Geiszler’s grin back, and Mako answers in kind. She has always liked the short scientist, and his passion for what he does has had a great impact on Mako while growing up in the Shatterdome. Being surrounded mostly by military personnel, it had been a relief to have a man like Newton around. And she has an utmost respect towards Dr. Gottlieb as well. In every way, he is a steady presence to balance Geiszler’s enthusiasm. When she thinks back to her time in the Shatterdome, and the silent guidance by example she has received from both men, helping them clean up a lab doesn’t sound too imposing of a task.

She is ripped out of her thoughts by Gottlieb’s dry cough, the man appearing to take in the state of the room too. “We’d better get started. If you are willing to lend us a hand, that is.” It isn’t a question, more of a statement of a fact, and Mako is more than happy to roll with it. She nods, and sets her bag down on a counter.

“That’s what I am here for.”

-----

It takes them a good part of the hour just to bulldoze a path from the two workbenches to the main door. Despite most of the specimen tank being carried out a few days prior, there are still one or two remaining, and Geiszler is forced to ring for a couple of rangers to come and pick them up. Once the space is more open, they start to go through the piles of miscellaneous items littered all over the counters, chairs and floor. Mostly old coffee mugs and discarded blueprints, with a bit of kaiju fluids added to the mix. All and all, it is rather mundane work, up to the point where Gottlieb suddenly halts his screening of the document cabinet and speak out.

“Newton, where did you put that cardboard box we got with the copy paper?”

From across the room, Mako lifts her gaze just in time to see Geiszler do the same, a frown on his face. “I recycled it like two months ago, dude! It was taking up space.”

Gottlieb huffs and gestures to the mountain of files currently sitting at his feet. “We need something to transfer these with.”

“Well just stuff them into one of the briefcases!”

“They need to be kept in order!” Sighing heavily, Gottlieb catches Mako’s eyes. “Miss Mori, if you’d be so kind as to take this over for me? There might be some boxes left over in the upper floor office.” And with that, he turns on his heels, cane firmly in hand, and marches out. Mako, following the requests, moves to the half-empty cabinet and stares back at the door once it has been slammed shut. She notices the way Geiszler tenses up as the sound of it.

It’s not really her place to meddle, but she cannot help herself.

“Everything alright?”

Her question makes Geiszler jump, and he nearly drop the mug he’d been holding. A slight blush creeps on his face, and he lets out an unconvincing burst of laugh. “Yeah, yeah everything’s fine!” Carefully, he sets the mug down, eyes dragging to the closed door. “Hermann has just been a bit on edge lately, it’ll pass.” The smile doesn’t quite reach past his lips. “No need to take it personally! He’s gonna blow off some steam as he walks back.” He turns away to go back to the cleaning, but not before Mako sees the brief curtain of uncertainty flash on his face.

It is gone by the time Geiszler walk to her with a plastic container filled with mementos and what appears to be sketches of various mathematical formulas. The man sways slightly under the weight of it. “You seen a marker around here?” She passes one to him, and silently watches him scribble his co-worker’s name over the lid. The box is left next to her alongside of the rest of Gottlieb’s belongings after Geiszler rushes back to his side of the lab.

Out of it, an errand paper slips onto the floor.

At first she thinks it to be another piece of failed blueprint, or a note. But upon closer inspection, it turns out to be a multiple pages long, stapled together from the upper corner. It also looks far more worn-out, like the reader has been handling it over and over again. The messy writing is hard to decipher to begin with, but the fading ink makes it almost unreadable. 

“Dear Hermann

Sorry I haven’t been writing much! Things have been kinda kicking off, and this one might end up being a short one too. 

Before I forget: So sad to hear about your grandma passing away. I wish I could have been there for you, can’t imagine your dad was much of a comforter. I thought about calling, but then figured you might want some time for yourself, y’know? Hopefully that was the right way to go, I really wanted to try and do what’d be the best for you -”

Despite the writer’s disclaimer that the letter would not be a lengthy one, it went on for pages. The close and warm tone of the writing didn’t change even when the conversation slipped to the academic topics near the middle. Clearly a personal correspondence more so than a work-related, and yet Mako couldn’t find the sender’s name anywhere. One would assume that there had been one in the envelope, but after a long moment of searching, she comes up empty-handed. 

Then her eyes land on the container.

Hermann’s junk #1. 

Written with a messy, almost unreadable handwriting.

... Oh.

A call from behind her snaps her back to attention. She turns to see Geiszler wrestling with one of the writing desks. And losing, from the looks of it.

 “Mako! You mind helping me out with this? It weighs like a sin and I’m not sure if I can get it through the door by myself,” he asks, already out of breath. “I swear, taking things out from the drawers is supposed to make it lighter!”

“Uh... Of course! Just a minute!” With a quick work, she folds the letter again. After a moment of consideration, she picks up the rest of the similarly opened letters found in the box, and ties them together with a loose rubber band. The formal documents, the ones she is supposed to be going over, are moved to a neat stack on the counter, waiting for the moving box.

The pile of letters, however, is gently set right next to Dr. Gottlieb’s briefcase.

For safekeeping.

[bngtanah]

The Difference Between Boys & Girls | o2

summary: Sam & Erin are university students who share a cheap one bedroom apartment above a shitty takeaway restaurant. Due to the limited space, they’ve grown accustomed to sharing just about everything, including the occasional kiss. Despite the amount of time they spend together, their complete comfort in sharing a bed, etc, the pair continues to hold on to the idea that they are completely “platonic.” None of their friends believe this excuse, but as ridiculous as it sounds the unconventional living situation truly does seem to work for them.

Well, it used to anyway..

pairing: Jung Hoseok (Samuel Park)  x Named OC characters: meet the cast.

genre: angst, smut, fluff

chapters: o1| o2| o3| o4| o5| o6| o7| o8| o9| 10| 11| 12| 13| 14

warning: boyfriend!hoseok, jealous!hoseok, friends to lovers trope, college au, angst, sexual themes, slow burn, ambw

a/n: i am a fool. I accidentally deleted my blog so this is me re-uploading EVERYTHING.

With her body wrapped in a dress that stopped just a couple inches below her ass, bare shoulders and a sheer cutout in the front Sam was having a hard time keeping his eyes from travelling along the contours of Erin's body.

Originally she planned on wearing just a pair of jeans and a cute top, thus ensuring that she would attract the least amount of attention when they reached their destination. That all changed when Samuel decided he was going to tag along, she didn't mind all eyes being on her as long as he was by her side.

And of course, the surge of confidence she felt after having caught Sam's eyes widen and his mouth drop open slightly when she stepped out of the bedroom may have had something to do with it also. He had managed to settle his features and avert his gaze once Erin joined him for their obligatory pregame shot in the kitchen, making sure to keep his distance like he was drinking with his baby sister and not some woman he'd leer at in a dim nightclub.

His reaction only made Erin stifled a giggle after she allowed the alcohol to ease down her throat. He could play it cool all he wanted, Erin knew she had ruffled his feathers and that alone was almost enough to make their whole night worth it before it even began.

"Aren't you, like...cold? In that dress?"  Samuel asked, uttering his first full sentence since they'd left the apartment.

Erin only shook her head and made a small noise to demonstrate her disagreeing.

Samuel scoffed and moved closer as they walked in stride, he knew better than to believe her when she was obviously freezing. He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side, the pad of his thumb drumming lightly against her hip. "Like hell you're not."

The touch burned through the flimsy layer of cloth and Erin was sure her cheeks would be flushed if she had any less melanin in her skin.

She couldn't allow her mind to read too much into his actions, however. As far as she knew Samuel had always been a very hands-on kind of guy. If he liked you, you knew because he'd find any excuse in the book to touch you. But there was also the side of his personality that just radiated affection when he was comfortable, the occasional hand grab, hug, caress usually mean nothing more to him than simply being friendly.

Sammy just liked human contact and sometimes it honestly drove Erin nuts.

"I think we're almost there" Erin commented as she glanced down at her cell phone, rereading the address Kim sent her a few hours earlier. "It should be on the left after this intersection."

"This doesn't really look like a good location for a bar" Sam noted as he glanced around their surroundings.

The streets were considerably empty for a Friday night and the few people they did see shuffling around looked like they were auditioning for part in Rent. Definitely not the young hip crowd either of them had been expecting.

Five minutes, and one wrong turn later they figured out exactly why the area seemed so dead.

The 'fun night out' Erin had been invited to turned out to be a gallery showing for a few unknown local artists. The air of excitement deflated the second Erin and Sam entered the building.

Kim was there at the entrance, craning her head back and forth and when she spotted Erin she beamed, and waved wildly. The second she did a quick scan of Erin's attire and noticed the handsome young man attached to her hip, her smile dulled considerably.

"Unnie! You remember my roommate, Samuel?"

Kim extended a hand, a smile way too broad to be genuine plastered on her lips. "Of course! It's a pleasure to see you again."

She was clearly lying since her nostrils were a bit too flared to be sincere. That didn't stop Sammy from grinning widely and taking her hand, bowing slightly to press his lips lightly to the back of her palm. "The pleasure is all mine."

Erin rolled her eyes gently and quirked her eyebrow in his direction, he winked at her and stood up straight again.

"Right. Well Erin I thought the friend you mentioned bringing along was a girl? Since this is a supposed to be a girl's night out."

And you said we would be going out for a drink, I guess we're both liars huh? Erin thought to herself.

"I know, but she couldn't make it and Sammy decided to volunteer to take her place. He might as well be a girl; you'll hardly notice the difference I promise."

Kim looked skeptical. Like she wanted to push the issue further but decided against it. "Alright he can stay but he has to participate like the rest of us."

"Participate, in what?" Sam asked.

"The post night discussion of course!" Kim answered, with more excitement than necessary as she reached down into her purse and dug out a notebook and pen for each of them. "We're all going to take notes on our favourite pieces and discuss them after the viewing, fun right?"

Erin braved a smile since she was used to Kim's concept of fun. Sam, on the other hand, refused to believe that she was serious as he erupted into a fit of laughter. Erin dug her elbow into his side and gave Kim a look of reassurance, "He has a weird sense of humour, we’re going to love this."

Kim nodded slowly and readjusted the strap of her purse "Okay, if you need anything just find me I'll be around" She began backing away "Oh and the drinks are free if you want one" The petite girl added before turning and disappearing into the shallow crowd.

"Homework, E. Seriously?" Sam began complaining not two seconds after Kim was no longer within earshot.

"What happened to Mr. Positive? The drinks are free that's something, right?"

"It's the only reason I'm still standing here"

"Oh come on, you wouldn't abandon your noona. Especially after you asked to tag along" Erin chuckled as she clipped the pen onto the side of her notebook.

"That's because I thought we would be drinking, not analyzing crappy art"

"Listen, I don't wanna do this anymore than you do. I'm way overdressed and I don't even like art. But at least we're here together and we've already been spotted so it's too early to bail anyway. If you want to continue grumbling I won't stop you but grumble on the way to the bar to get us some drinks."

Sam parted his lips to argue, but the resolve in Erin's eye made him second guess that. They could literally argue all night over this and he wasn't about to upset her when she looked that nice. "You're right," He sighed "You want your usual?"

"Yes please," Erin beamed and leaned upward to peck his cheek before he sauntered away in the direction of the bar with a dopey smile.

Suddenly very aware of the fact that she was standing in the middle of the floor alone, Erin quickly moved towards the nearest display of art. She pulled the pen from her notepad and pretended to be interested in the large canvas splattered with various lines and squiggles. Erin was never very appreciative of art even when she could understand the concept.

"Oh my god, this looks like a goddamn finger painting" She muttered underneath her breath.

A bellow of male laughter tickled Erin's ears from behind and almost made her jump out of her skin. She turned and came face to face with an unfamiliar person. His rounded cheeks made him seem young, much too young to be mixed in with this crowd but once Erin allowed her eyes to drift further down from his face she determined that he was probably in her age bracket. His hair was parted through the middle and pushed away from his face, colored a shade that Erin could only describe as neon tangerine and he wore a smile on his face that made the room seem ten shades brighter. He was tall but only by comparison to Erin, he was still a few inches shorter than Sammy so that brought him right to her eye level.

"Sorry, I didn't realise I was talking out loud," Erin said softly, accompanying her words with a slight bow.

"Don't be, you're not lying" He answered, still trying to stop himself from laughing "I'm Brian by the way."

"Erin"

Brian bit into his lip once his laughter subsided and subtly felt Erin up with his eyes. She pretended not to notice and returned her attention to the painting.

"So I guess art isn't really your thing either?"

"I love it actually, but the use of color and composition here is just lazy and uninspired." Brian commented and took a step closer, he was close enough for Erin to catch the scent of his cologne and a tiny shudder ran down the base of her spine. It was small but significant considering the only man that made her feel that way lately was Sammy. "Look at this area right here" He gestured to the far left side of the canvas "To the untrained eye it would probably look like a deliberate splatter of red paint to represent anguish, but I know that this artist just stepped on a tube and left the mark there."

"Mhm.... wait can you repeat that first thing again," Erin said, quickly putting her pen against the notebook and writing down the gist of what his.

"Are you a journalist?" Brian asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"University student, this is just for my.... study group. How do you know so much about this?"

"Because it's my painting and it only took me about five minutes to finish" Brian grinned and turned to face Erin. He was inches away and the coy smile that spread across his lips when their eyes connected made her chortle. Brian wet his bottom lip with his tongue which inadvertently drew Erin's attention there before the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them broke up the staring contest.

"Uh. The line was long, here's your drink. Who is this?" Sammy asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Erin smiled and took the tumbler of liquid from Samuel "This is Brian, we're making fun of his terrible art. Brian, this is my roommate; Sammy"

Both men nodded toward each other, exchanging a polite handshake before turning their attention back to Erin. Samuel was the first to speak.

"Listen do you really want to stay here all night? The drinks are watered down and I know how much you hate this art crap"

Erin shrugged gently but made a sour face the second she took a sip of her drink, it tasted like cranberry juice mixed with tap water, not vodka.

"Oh gross, let's get out of here before Kim finds me again," She said resting her cup on the nearest flat surface. She was all prepared to sprint out the nearest exit when a hand gently grabbed her upper arm and stopped her in her tracks.

"If you're going to leave can I see your phone before you go?" Brian asked, flirtatious smile still present.

"Why do you need to see my phone?"

"So I can put my number into it"

"Wow, you are subtle!" Erin laughed, taking a second to think of a response. "Ah, what the hell" She sighed and pulled her phone out of her purse, unlocked it and handed it over.

"Oh, what's this? It looks like you're accidentally calling me, that's weird. I guess I'll just have to save your number in my phone as well" Brian mused as his fingers moved over the keypad.

The entire interaction made Sam's lips fall into a flat, disapproving line while Erin giggled like it was the most amusing thing she'd ever seen.

"I hope to see you around sometime, Erin" Brian waved while she and Samuel headed toward the entrance.

"You too"

Instead of going home like Erin thought they would be, she and Samuel ended up at a bar a few blocks down from the warehouse where the gallery viewing was. Kim and all the members of her study group called multiple times but Erin stopped feeling bad about not picking after the first few shots.

Somehow one hour turned into to two and both Sam and Erin were tipsy to say the least they burst out onto the sidewalk, laughing at jokes neither of them were saying out loud.

"Do you know what we should do right now?" Sammy said excitedly, his hands holding onto Erin's shoulders.

"What?"

"Go watch the stars! Like we used to in school... I'm pretty sure there's a park somewhere around here" He muttered to himself but propelled forward anyway, dragging Erin along with him. She allowed him to pull her along as he tried to gain his bearings, she wasn't really ready to go home yet either.

After some trial and error, they managed to find the "park", which was actually just a patch of grass and a small hill but who was complaining?

Sammy motioned for Erin to sit next and she scrunched her nose upward "I don't want my dress to get dirty I'll stand, it's okay."

"Here," He sighed, pulling the jacket he was wearing off his shoulders and laying it down over the grass. "Better princess?"

"Much" Erin grinned as she moved to sit, exhaling a deep breath once she was settled and Sammy's arm found its way behind her. "I can't remember the last time we did this," She said after a beat, glancing up at the illuminated night sky.

"I do. It was the night of my graduation, you rode the bus all the way from Seoul to Daegu just to be there for my ceremony and stayed up with me to watch the stars even though you had a class the next morning." Sammy recalled with fondness in his voice.

"I remember that you begged me for like two hours to sneak out to the beach with you. Then when we actually got there you couldn't stop freaking out about being caught."

"My mother is a very perceptive woman; I still think she noticed me leaving in her sleep!"  Sammy retorted and both of them exploded with laughter.

"You made a promise that night too, do you remember that?"

Sam nodded with a smile but didn't saying anything.

"You're just going to make me repeat it by myself?"

"You look so cute when you say it noona"

Erin rolled her eyes, but cleared her throat anyway "I- state your name-"

"Sang-min 'Samuel' Park!"

"-So solemnly swear to live my life to fullest degree of potential and happiness possible from this moment on, recognising that I am no longer a child, but that doesn't I have to turn into a cynical old man. All agreed say aye." Erin was hardly able to finish talking before she gave into the laughter.

"Aye!" Sammy repeated in a squeaky voice and joined Erin in a chorus of giggles and guffaws.

A moment of comfortable silence passed over them once the laughter died down and Erin sighed again, snuggling closer to Sam and leaning backwards on her elbows. "You think you kept your promise? Are you happy, Sam?"

He frowned for a second and shrugged "I'm alright, I've still got you with me so that's good enough for me." He said softly, reaching forward to brush a stray hair out of Erin's eyes and tuck it behind her ear. The tips of his fingers slowly trailed along her jawline as if he was touching her for the first time. When he cupped her jaw in one hand and pulled her face closer his Erin found herself letting him do so.

They had kissed before, games of spin the bottle at high school parties and a few times after having a couple drinks at home. But those could be explained away by a momentary lapse in judgement and raging underdeveloped hormones. This was a deliberate action and Samuel made sure to move at a slow pace to give Erin enough to time to back out if she wanted to.

She didn't want to.

"You looked so good tonight, noona" Sam whispered against the shell of Erin's ear, the bridge of his nose nuzzled against the hollow of Erins cheek and the warmth of his breath fanned over her skin causing heat to spread all over her body. Her breathing grew shallow and her eyes fluttered shut in anticipation, just as his lips barely brushed against her own a loud blaring noise shattered their fairy tale and made them both jump backwards.

"Oh shit, I think that's my phone. Sorry" Erin fumbled around with the clutch in her hands before pulling out her cell phone and preparing to curse out whoever had the misfortune of calling her at that exact moment.

"Hello?" Erin barked into the receiver.

"I- I'm sorry is this not a good time? Were you sleeping?" Brian’s gentle voice momentarily disarmed Erin's annoyance and she shook her head.

"Oh Brian is that you? No... I'm actually not even home yet, Sammy and I stopped for a drink before going home"

"O-oh okay," Brian replied softly, taking a second to think before speaking again "Well maybe you can text me when you home just so I know you're safe."

"I can do that" Erin answered, trying her best to smile even though she noticed the sudden change in Sam's posture, going from relaxed to rigid the second Erin answered the phone. He stood up after she hung up and held out a hand to help her to her feet. After she was standing he leaned down to pick up his jacket and dusted it off before placing it around Erin's shoulders.

"I should get you home."

[swellwriting]

You found me.

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: none

Request: can I request Draco x female reader imagine? students are on break and girl convinces Draco to visit her home in the muggle world. they go shopping, visit museums, drink hot chocolate, go to the cinema... at the end of the day they are back in the girl's home and search through her old Hogwarts memories. later they are cuddled up and have sweet conversations🥰

Word Count: 3.7k

A break from college was much needed at this point in the semester, between exams and final projects you were glad to have a week where you could literally do nothing and not feel guilty about it. The week prior was spent surviving on a diet of 60% caffeine and 40% muffins with a mix of only 5 hours of sleep at most, but it was worth it for this stress-free break.

You lied in bed staring at the ceiling, you had just woken up of your own volition instead of by an alarm clock for the first time in months. Your mind raced with all the things you could do today, you could go to the coffee shop and enjoy having your morning drink there instead of racing out the door with it, you could read for pleasure in your own bed instead of the stuffy library with the weird mildew smell, or you could go shopping. The ideas drifted through your head as you weighed which was more favourable to yourself.

You got out of bed, grabbed a knitted sweater off the floor and pulled it over your shoulders walking to the kitchen in your small flat to get some cereal. As you crunched on the sugary breakfast food you continued pondering, you looked at the calendar on the wall to see something scribbled in red ink on today's date. It read: renew apparition licence today!

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath. That would be a good chunk of today's time wasted on long lines at the Ministry. You shrugged accepting the fact that you needed your apparition license, you needed to apparate to class at least a few times a week when you were running late and you couldn't afford to possibly pay the fine of being caught with an out of date licence. Not that you ever would get caught, attending a school full of muggles meant you only apparated into empty bathroom stalls and broom closets, but it was better safe than sorry.

Once you rinsed out your bowl you made your way to your room, your flat was small, deemed student housing making it was fairly cheap, so you wouldn't complain. The small closet in your room had a dresser crammed into it and hangers full of clothes on top, it was great being able to wear whatever you wanted, as long as it was reasonably appropriate, to school every day. You grabbed a pair of light wash jeans and slid them on, pulling the high rise pants up past your belly button, you slid a thin black long sleeve shirt on and tucked it in fastening the button, you grabbed your bag and a sweater before sliding your boots on and running out the door, better to get there early and get this over with.

Sadly, that's what many people had in mind as well. When you apparated into the main entrance of the Ministry you were met with the crowds of people making their way through the busy building. You looked at the signs and tried to find the licence renewal line and make your way there. You hadn’t had to do this since you turned 16, you got it a week after your birthday, though you weren't legally allowed to apparate until 18. You wondered if you would see anyone you knew here, anyone from Hogwarts with a birthday near yours that would also have to renew their license around now. As you walked, staring up at the signs trying to find the way you bumped into someone else who had been staring at their feet as they walked.

You noticed his polished black shoes first, as your eyes drifted up you saw a perfectly pressed white button up and then your eyes met his, a shade of silver just as you had remembered them.

“I'm sorry.” Where the only words that came out of your mouth as your mind raced, it had been over two years since you had last seen your old acquaintance from Hogwarts.

“It's alright.” He answered plainly making the conversation go nowhere but you both still stood there waiting for something to happen.

The large crowd seemed to part around the two of you as you stood in place looking up at him expectantly, but for what, you weren’t sure. From Draco you didn't expect a warm hug like you would from a different classmate, you expected perhaps a handshake, the general courteousness of a pompous rich boy like himself, instead he smiled awkwardly at you, “Hello, Y/n.”

“Hello, Draco.” You replied formally repeating his greeting to him, unsure of where the two of you stood.

The two of you weren't friends in Hogwarts, to say that would be a stretch but for a moment you wondered what would define a friend to Draco and though perhaps in his mind, you might fit the bill. You were kind to him, kind to everybody actually, you were potion partners for three years in a row at the end of Hogwarts and he once even bought you a hot chocolate at The Three Broomsticks when you ended up at the same large table with mutual friends. So even though it hadn't really crossed your mind maybe he did see you as a friend from school, more than you saw him as a just an old classmate.

“Do you work here?” He asked gesturing to the building you were both standing in.

“Oh no, I'm in school actually, the University of London, second year.” You said awkwardly. You hadn't seen many old friends from Hogwarts, you ahdnt looked forward to telling anyone from your old magical school that you had chosen to go to a muggle school, especially not someone like Draco. Even if you had heard that he changed, you had seen it a bit yourself in the last years of Hogwarts.

Draco raised a brow like he had no idea what you were talking about so you decided to further explain yourself to the boy with such a narrow world view, “Its a muggle school.”

He nodded and then looked confused again before asking, “Then what are you doing here?”

“Well I'm still a witch Draco,” you said it with no malice instead you gave a lighthearted chuckled before continuing to explain yourself, “I have to renew my apparition license, but I'm having trouble finding it.”

“Oh me too, I just got told its downstairs, here let me show you.” He said before turning and walking the direction the lady at the desk had just told him, he looked back every now and then to make sure you were still behind him, not daring to grab your hand. He seemed nervous and uneasy, to top it off he looked pale, paler than usual.

When you got to the line he stopped, “I guess a lot of people are here for the same thing.”

“I guess so.” You answered awkwardly as he stepped aside for you to go in front of him in the line, you smiled and quietly said thank you before turning to face the front. After a few minutes of awkward silence, the line had only moved a smidge. You decided it would be best to let the time pass with conversation, you turned swiftly to face Draco which seemed to surprise him.

“How are you?” You said abruptly, forcing a friendly smile on your face.

“Me? Oh, I'm good, yeah good.”

“Just good? Are you working somewhere or?”

“No.” He answered awkwardly fidgeting with his hands, “I'm rather uninteresting actually, how are you?”

“I'm good, stressed out beyond belief, well I'm sure you've felt similarly distressed.” You commented, meaning to relate to your mutual schooling at Hogwarts and being stressed for OWLS and such but by the look of bewilderment on his face, you knew he assumed you meant stress from the war or something regarding his trial.

“I mean, stressed from school, like at Hogwarts for OWLs, College is similar, actually less difficult really, but it's still a lot.”

“Oh, of course, yeah, schools always stressful.”

Your conversation was interrupted when you noticed Harry Potter walking out of a doorway with the sign “Department of Magical Law Enforcement” overhead. He quickly noticed Draco and walked over, it was hard to miss that platinum blonde hair.

“Draco! How are you?”

“Good, you?” He replied, he still looked just as uneasy when talking to Harry, you assumed they had become friends since you read that Harry testified for him at his trial.

“Good.” He said with a nod before noticing you, “And Y/n hello.”

“Hi, Harry.” You said, it was weird, you were never friends with him at Hogwarts. He would have never said hi to you if you weren’t stood beside Draco.

“Are you guys here together?” Harry asked as he looked at Draco expectantly.

“Now we just ran into each other, renewing our licenses,” Draco said, and you just nodded.

Harry’s smiled deflated a bit as he patted Draco on the shoulder. “Well, you should get out more often, other than renewing license’s and stuff, come by sometime soon!” Harry said before waving goodbye to you and then walking away.

“That was awkward.” You commented not meaning to let it slip out, you covered your mouth with your hand.

Draco chuckled, a genuine smile spreading across his face, “What and this is not?”

“Well, sort of, but it'd be awkward if I saw anyone from Hogwarts, it's not specifically because it's you. Regardless, you seem uneasy, like you don't want to be here.”

“Do you want to be here?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No, but you seem more nervous to be here than just generally annoyed like I am.”

“I just feel like, I don't know how to talk to people, I am a very different person from when I last spoke to you, for example, I don't know how to be me now. It sounds weird but it's just, I don't know. I feel like everyone everywhere is staring at me all the time and everyone hates me.” Draco confessed, sounding so honest and real that it almost scared you.

“You shouldn't care what people think.”

“Y/n, I haven't changed THAT much.” He said with a smile and you laughed.

Before you could say anything back to him the lady at the desk called out for the next person in line, which you hadn't realized until now was you.

Draco got called to the desk beside you and you both turned to each other when you were finished, standing there awkwardly again, unsure of what to do.

“I should go.” You said quietly as you stood out of the way.

“Yeah, me too, busy day ahead of me.”

“Busy? What do you have to do?” You asked, wondering what Draco Malfoy did if he didn't work.

“Sit in the manor, alone. Actually.” He tried to say it as a joke but the sadness in his eyes was telling.

“I actually have a few things to do, if you want to tag along, you know if the whole brooding alone thing can wait.”

“I can reschedule it actually,” he said with a thin smile, you could tell he was holding himself back from smiling wider, not wanting to seem too excited to actually have something to do.

You grabbed his hand and apparated back into the living room of your flat, it was small, like every room. There was a large window that took up most of the wall and looked down on part of London, you were a few floors up so you had a teeny tiny balcony as well. You had a bright patterned couch that you found on sale and textbooks and notes covering your coffee table, as well as many half drunk cups of tea.

“Sorry for the mess, I have to take a day to clean sometime this week.” You said gesturing to the mess before grabbing the sticky note attached to your fridge with a list of basic groceries you needed. You stuck the sticky note to Dracos neat white shirt, “hold this for me,” he looked down and peeled it off his shirt with a grin, holding the small list in his hands.

-almond milk

-bread

-muffins

-tea bags

-pasta

He read it over, what a weird shopping list, it was so normal. He looked at you as you grabbed your bag and walked over to the door, waving your hand for him to follow. As you walked down the stairs he had to ask, “Where are we getting these things? Why don't we just apparate?”

“We are going to the grocery store, and we are walking because it's nice outside for one and because muggles don't take kindly to someone magically appearing in front of their cart in the cereal aisle.”

Draco nodded trying to understand, he had never been to a grocery store in his life, he always had someone to do that for him. There was a small grocery shop a block away from your flat, you grabbed a basket instead of a cart and walked to where you knew, the things you needed, to be. You quickly grabbed them as Draco followed you like a lost puppy dog.

“This is really all I have to get done today, but I should take you to more muggle places, you seem confused and scared but in the way someone fears something unknown to them, when we were at the ministry you looked anxious and scared but in the way that you were scared of the people around you.” You paused for a moment thinking he would say something but he stayed silent so you continued. “The muggles? They don't care about you, they don't even know who you are, you will only get weird looks for wearing dress clothes in the middle of spring while walking on the streets.”

“So my attire is not muggle appropriate?”

“No, it's perfect of sulking in your house where only the house elves will see you, but it's terrible for literally anything else, except maybe a pureblood party.”

“This would never be suitable for a pureblood party, this is too dressed down,” he scoffed and you raised a brow at him as to tell him he was being too stuck up and posh, he mumbled a sorry in acknowledgment under his breath. “What would you suppose I wear?”

As the two of you stood in the checkout line you placed your items on the counter and turned to him trying to work with what you had. You raised a hand up slowly to his hair and paused looking him in the eyes before daring to touch it, he nodded his head giving you permission to mess up his perfectly gelled back platinum hair.

You dug your fingers in and shuffled them back and forth until his hair was less stuck in place and more tousled, falling to one side and sticking up in a few places, perfectly messy which made Draco already look like a whole new person.

Then as you still stood in the checkout line in the middle of a busy grocery shop you moved closer to him and undid a few buttons off the top and pulled his shirt untucked, you then rolled his sleeves up giving him an instantly more casual look. “That's the best that I can do,” you said with a smile.

As you paid for your food Draco whispered from behind you so the clerk wouldn't hear, ‘You made me look ridiculous didn't you?”

“No you look very handsome I promise.” You said without even thinking.” Draco’s cheeks turned light pink at that and he stood in shock, staring at the clerk behind the counter for a minute before he realized you had walked away.

He hurried to catch up with you and took your bag out of your hand to carry it for you, but as you got outside finding an unusually empty sidewalk you took the bag back from him and in a snap, it disappeared, being sent to your kitchen counter.

“So you buy groceries the muggle way, but you use magic at your own convenience.”

“Though this is a Muggle shop, wizards buy groceries too Draco, you just have house elves for such things.” You teased and he frowned realizing his view of a wizarding life varied from yours and others quite a bit.

“So, what other muggle things are we going to do then?”

“You actually want to? You have changed quite a lot then, you won't be too disgusted by them or too busy thinking you are superior to them?”

“My parents are still very much that way, and though I wouldn't want them to know what I was currently doing, I have no issue with it.”

“And if your parents knew you were willingly spending your day with a half-blood?”

“They'd probably faint but I don't care.”

“Ooh, Draco Malfoy. Ever the Rebel.” You teased as you stopped walking in front of the small museum you had always opposed but never gone to. “Care to be super rebellious and learn a little bit about Muggle history?”

Draco shrugged as he followed you inside, you walked in silently looking at the different exhibits, the one about past wars, the dinosaurs, some old statues and near the end there was a small art gallery with historic paintings. Draco was looking at one of some detailed building, an old castle of some sort when he heard you start laughing, it would be very disruptive had anyone else been in there.

“What's so funny?” He asked as he walked over and then frowned when he saw the painting, it was of a young man with white hair and a large frown on his face, he wore some old time clothes and it very much resembled Draco. “Oh, Merlin.”

“Nope, doesn't look like Merlin to me,” you paused bending over in laughter as Draco looked at you completely unamused, “looks like you.”

“Oh shut up,” he said as he finally let a smile crack. Now that you had seen he wasn't actually upset at finding his painting doppelganger you grabbed his shoulders lightly and moved him to stand beside it, you backed up admiring the resemblance and then burst out laughing again.

“It's uncanny really.” Then your mouth opened as you came to a great realization, you had a camera with you, you shuffled through your bag and felt it in your hands, before pulling it out you looked at Draco with a pleading smile. “Please.”

“What?” He asked looking a bit scared.

You pulled the camera out and hid your face behind it, he breathed loudly letting out a huff. “Fine.”

You looked into the viewfinder and framed the photo, it was perfect. You clicked it, making sure the flash was off to not draw attention from any security guards.

As soon as you pulled the camera down he moved away from the painting, you walked up beside him moving on to the exit and out to the sidewalk.

“That was fun.”

“Ah yes, fun. You making fun of me is very fun.”

“I'm not making fun of you, I'm having fun with you, there’s a difference, even if you're not used to the latter.”

“I have fun,” he argued.

“When is the last time you had fun with someone and you weren't making fun of someone else?”

“Probably potions class with you?” he said honestly, almost like a question. You smiled at that, it was such a cute thing to say even if it was just his honest thoughts.

“I guess that counts, this is better though.” You smiled as you turned into a   shop, holding the door for Draco to walk in behind you.

“Hot chocolate? I need a break from my caffeine binge of last week. I’ll buy this time if you buy next time.” You said with a smile and Draco agreed, going to find the two of you a table by the window.

“If you want me to pay next time we will have to visit the three broomsticks or something, I might be rich in the wizarding world but to muggles my money is rubbish.” He commented.

“Sure, I've been dying to go back there anyways I haven’t been in so long.”

“Last time I was there was when we pushed two tables together, it was right before the big battle at Hogwarts, maybe a week before, we were all so stressed and nervous that it didn't matter who was sat at the table, Slytherins sat there, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws and even Gryffindors, it was fun complaining about school and the war together, it was like group therapy.”

“You bought me a hot chocolate that night.” You said with a smile as you sipped your sweet drink.

“I remember that.”

“A weird act of kindness for the then Draco Malfoy.”

“Well, I felt like you deserved it, you looked stressed.”

“I was stressed, we all were.”

“But you were the only one I really cared about, the others could fuck right off if I'm being honest.”

“Did Draco Malfoy just say he cared about me?”

“You were always kind to me, patient, even when I didn't deserve it,” he admitted as he sort of his behind his drink, taking small sips.

“Everybody deserves a bit of kindness.”

“And here you are, being kind yet again even though I haven't talked to you for over two years, I thought about it but I never had your address anyways.

“Well, you found me now.” You said with a smile and he smiled back, genuine, all toothy with no holding back for his reputation.

“Let's go see a movie, I'm out of ideas after that.”

“A muggle movie I assume.”

“Yep, with muggle snacks and muggle actors and everything, the full experience, even chewed muggle gum under the seats!”

“I don't even want to inquire on that last part.” He said as you both stood up and walked over to the movie theatre down the street, preparing to stuff your faces with overly buttery popcorn and bubbly soda drinks.

[the-funeral-party]

Why TV Qualice doesn’t work anymore

So it’s been years since I’ve read the books (so please bear with my rusty memory), but there were some things I appreciated and some things I disliked about Alice and Quentin’s relationship.  

For the dislike?  Obviously the early parts of their relationship were a disaster.  And that was partly because they were disasters (especially Quentin).  There were times when Quentin’s persistence to repair things with Alice would actually drive me nuts.  A lot of it was premature - he hadn’t done enough to change himself and grow, he hadn’t allowed time for healing or friendship.  Though to be fair, Alice was closed off and uninterested in repairing that friendship.  And who could blame her?  It was evident that Quentin just single-mindedly wanted her back.  He didn’t fully see her as a person.

But this was all important points to the plot and the deconstruction of the fantasy narrative.  Which brings us to the like.  While Qualice is endgame, we don’t actually get them back together in a relationship at the end of the books.  It’s something hopeful and far off in the future, because right now they are finally going to do the hard work of repairing their friendship and getting to know each other again - seeing each other as people with full and complex inner lives.  And Alice herself has a lot of healing to do after coming back from being a niffin.  It’s not an easy ending, though it is technically a happy one, and it subverts the trope of “guy winning girl as prize”.

But the books have some differences from the tv show.  For one thing, there’s a sort of role reversal with Alice and Quentin on the show.  Alice has become the one single-mindedly determined to get Quentin back, while Quentin is the one that’s rebuffed any attempts at friendship.  Quentin also has a serious competing love interest in Eliot, whereas in the books he’s never really in any serious relationship that could compete with his love for Alice (and part of this is because she spends so much time as his “lost love” that he doesn’t rescue from being a niffin until close to the end).  And while Quentin needed to go through major character growth in the books, far more than Alice did (though she needed some as well, of course), in the tv show, Quentin essentially gets 50 years of maturity (and a healthy relationship) downloaded straight into his brain.  Alice is currently way behind in terms of growth and healing.

And this is where I get frustrated with the thought of Qualice anytime soon, or at all.

I like Alice and even relate to her at times (I was the kid the teacher always called on to demonstrate too), but I get frustrated that she doesn’t have much of a life outside of her relationship to Quentin sometimes.   It really seemed like Alice was trying with Modesto… but then it blew up in her face when Sheila joined the librarians.  Modesto was her chance to find purpose and happiness outside of a romance.  And honestly, that’s still what Alice needs.  She needs to become her own person outside of Quentin.  Even if I wasn’t a Queliot shipper, I would NOT want Alice back with Quentin in her current state.  It would be such a terrible, co-dependent mess.  And I cannot for the life of me see why Quentin, even if at a low point, would want that toxic mess when he now has the maturity and “life experience” to know better.  Alice is not in a position to pursue a healthy relationship right now - full stop.

(The only thing that worries me is “tv show contrivance”.  In the real world we have billions of people to choose from, but in tv shows we often see writers just shuffle the main characters between each other rather than add in a new, permanent love interest.  Not that Alice doesn’t have some wonderful choices besides Quentin, but we’ll be lucky enough to get one lgbtq endgame, let alone two.  Or perhaps that’s just my cynical side coming out.)

Going back to actual character analysis... It would literally be stupid to not pursue Queliot at this point, even besides meta analysis of how the arc has been building and its need for resolution.  Eliot and Quentin had a stable, healthy relationship that lasted their entire lives.  They were able to grow together in a positive way.  We also know that they both still want that relationship.  But even if something happened that caused them to not get back together?  It still wouldn’t justify getting Quentin and Alice back together.  It would ignore Quentin’s growth and Alice’s need for growth.  It would ignore the hurt they had caused each other.  It would ignore that the two of them are now in very different places in their lives, having drifted far from the people they were when they had their original relationship.  And it would be treating her character as a 2 dimensional love interest.

If Alice were someone I knew in real life, I would give her this advice -  I’ve been in shitty relationships in my youth.   I’ve been in that position where the one person I felt a true connection to (in that point in my life) cheated on me.  I’ve been there more than once.  I had moments of weakness where I wanted them back.  But holy hell, the best thing I ever did was move the fuck on.

Alice and Quentin had a pretty typical college relationship, based heavily on sex and proximity and the allure of having something in common.  That’s not something that can be recaptured.  What, as adults, do they bring to the table for each other?  Do they share common goals?  Will they grow in the same direction or grow further apart?  Are they whole individuals with independent lives and interests who can function as equal partners?  I’m just not seeing anything of this.  Alice is still extricating herself from needing Quentin’s approval and relying on him as a moral compass.  She still hasn’t finished developing an independent life.  She’s feeling quite lost.  Quentin, on the other hand, seems ready to settle down and plan towards having a family again.  He’s in a fairly stable position (monster shenanigans aside) with clear goals.  If they didn’t have a past together, nothing would make sense about the idea of them pursuing each other.

As it stands, I would really like to see Alice continue to find herself and become whole before pursuing a relationship with anyone.  And I would like for her and Quentin to become friends, which would help their friends group to further warm back up to her (because it really doesn’t help that she’s pretty much been isolated, with mostly just Quentin “putting up with her”... and omg what kind of masochist continues to pursue a guy who’s being that cold to them??).  And eventually, once she’s ready, I’d like to see her pursue a new and healthy relationship instead of trying to force something old and broken to rekindle.  Because frankly, the way the show has changed the timeline and characters had significant impact to the point that I don’t think it can realistically give us the same ending as the book.