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jeonggukookies · 4 years ago

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too young || five

summary: you learn about jungkook’s past, and jungkook and his daughter aren’t too happy about that

word count: 4,116

genre: parent!au, single dad!jungkook angst

one || two || three || four || five

As long as you could remember, Valentine’s Day was your favorite holiday. You just loved making cute valentine’s cards, colored paper hearts and making little mailboxes to put your candy in. Not only that, but you just loved your parents spoiling each other on that day whether it was doing cute things spontaneously or putting love poems on sticky notes every where around the house.

Valentine’s Day was just the day you wanted to be in love, but for the most part, you and your short term boyfriends never made it that long, so it was just mainly you working at schools, doing arts and crafts with the kiddos, spreading the love to them.

Today was different.

You invited all parents to come and help their child decorate their mailboxes, and you rescheduled any tasks or meetings that day as you wanted to spend the whole day visiting each classroom to see everyone’s progress and give candy out.

Wanting to spend the most time with Jules, you visited her classroom last. Her classroom was well decorated for the holiday. The color pink and red along with messages and puns about love and hearts were found everywhere.

Standing under the doorway, a smile appeared on your face once you saw Jules in Jungkook’s lap. She was laughing with her head tilted back as Jungkook traced his hand onto the cardboard mailbox. “Jungkook, why are you putting a hand turkey on our mailbox?!”

You talked to every student and parent in the class before taking a seat next to Jungkook. “I love the mailbox.”

“Do you want to put your handprint on it?” Jules asked as she put a heart shape lollypop in her mouth and snuck one into your pocket. “Me and Jungkook have more for you later, but don’t tell anyone.”

You smiled and grabbed a red marker from the table. “I would love to put my hand on the mailbox.”

“So I have some news,” Jungkook said as you pushed the marker lid off. “I have to leave a day early next week.”

Jungkook was going on a business trip overseas for a week, and during that week, Jules was going to stay with you. At first you didn’t understand why Jungkook was telling you, but once you realized it, you dropped the marker abruptly. “Wait, that means you won’t be able to be there with me when I meet the girls.”

“I’m sorry, but I promise Jin is going to make sure it all runs smoothly,” Jungkook reassured you, picking up the marker off the table. “We can wait till after you come back if you want.”

You shook your head, not wanting to wait any longer to meet them. It was bound to happen whether you liked it or not. “It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” He questioned, raising his eyebrows.

“I promise.”

After school, you spent the rest of Valentine’s Day making blanket forts and watching movies with Jungkook and Jules, and you knew that you could never get tired of this.

___________

“Uncle Jin!” Jules excitedly jumped up and down as Jin bent down and wrapped her arms around her. “I missed you!”

“It’s not as if I didn’t see you a day ago.” Jin pulled away, smiling. “Your cousin is waiting for you in her room.”

Jules hurried off to take off her jacket and rushed upstairs. “So you’re first meeting Taehyung’s wife first, then Jimin’s and then mine,” Jin quietly explained as he took your jacket along with Jules to put it on the coat rack. “Tae dropped her off first, so you can warm up to her. Jimin’s on his way to drop off Seo-yeon, and Su-ji is still at work and has to pick up tonight’s dinner.”

He gestured behind him with his eyes where Tae’s wife, Ji-Ho was. You were surprised by her appearance. She looked like a normal human being when the boys had described her similar to the evil queen from Snow White.

"She doesn’t look scary at all,” you whispered in a hushed voice. “Why did you guys try to scare me?”

“Ji-Ho, this is Y/N, Jungkook’s girlfriend. Ji-Ho came early, and we’re just talking about a book idea she has,” Jin said in his normal tone, ignoring the comment you made. “She wants to write a book about being able to forgive and forget.”

Sitting next to Jin on his white loveseat, you looked and smiled at Ji-Ho who was on the white sofa across from you two, staring at carpet, not meeting your eyes. “I didn’t know you wrote books. Why do you want to write a book about that?”

“The world is a cruel place where people hold grudges over trivial and dumb things. They say they forgive, but never forget. Teaching others and helping them learn to do that will make it seem like you’re mature and able to have peace with yourself,” she explained, now playing with her hands in her lap. “Why hold grudges when you can move on and not give them the power to think about them?”

“I suppose that you can be happier just living your own life when you focus on yourself and forget and forgive.” Jin shrugged his shoulders.

“Do you think that people who can’t forgive and forget are unhappy people?” You asked.

“Excuse me?” Ji-Ho asked, finally looking at you.

“I think what she meant to say is-” You cut Jin off.

“Personally, I think you only need to forgive someone and come to terms that not everyone or everything is going to work out in your favor. Forgetting it is like running away from your problems. It’s not going to go away just because you ignore or forget the feeling; you just will experience it again.” You shrugged your shoulders as Jin muttered an ‘oh god we’re dead’ under his breath. He was shaking in fear, worried about what you were going to say next and afraid of Ji-Ho’s reaction.

Ji-Ho scoffed. “What do you think about forgiving and forgetting then? You think we shouldn’t forgive and we shouldn’t forget?”

“No, I’m not saying that, and I’m not saying that you’re wrong either because I don’t think we should hold grudges,” you said slowly. “But maybe you can forgive and accept, but you can’t forget, so you can be able to learn and overcome obstacles like that to be a better version of oneself. Does that make sense?”

Ji-Ho scoffed, but this time, she smiled at you and looked at you with interest in her eyes. “What is your name again?”

“Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” She released a laugh, which startled Jin. “I think we’re going to get along perfectly fine.”

Ji-Ho did open up to you right away, talking about her interests and asking all about you as if she wanted to know every single detail. She was a lot like Taehyung, and you realized they truly were a perfect match for each other. They were both kind, observant and funny without even trying.

After twenty minutes, Seo-yeon and Su-ji arrived at the same time. Su-ji immediately went into the kitchen with some grocery bags as Seo-yeon took a seat next to Ji-Ho, smiling.

“Hi, how are you?” She asked, not giving you anytime to think or respond before talking again. “We heard so many great things about you, and I am so happy for Jungkook. It’s about time he finally found someone and that we’re able to meet her.”

Not knowing what to say, you laughed as your cheeks reddened. You weren’t really good at accepting compliments, but a part of you felt happy, knowing Jungkook was surrounded by people who loved him and wanted what was best for him.

“I got a charcuterie board for all of us,” Su-ji said out of breath, coming out of the kitchen. She placed the large plate on the coffee table in front of everyone and took a seat in between the other wives. “Hi, Y/N.”

Most of the dinner went well. It was basically like an interview where they were trying to see your strengths and weaknesses, but you still felt comfortable with them, talking to them.

“Can we see pictures of you and Jungkook?” Ji-Ho asked. You unlocked your phone and passed it to Jin’s wife as she sat in the middle and could show them. “It really sounds like you two are both happy and comfortable with each other.”

“It was really nice to meet you all,” you said as most of the plate was gone.

“You don’t have to lie to them,” Jin joked. “I know my presence is enough for you to enjoy.”

“No, I do mean it,” you reassured them just in case they didn’t take you seriously. “Jungkook talks about Jules and his support system all the time, and it warms my heart that you guys were there for both of them when they were struggling especially after their loss.”

“Oh?” The look of displacement was written all over Su-ji’s face. “You know about Sarah?”

“Yes,” you answered. “Is that a problem?”

“If you want me to be honest, I never thought Jungkook would see anyone after Sarah’s passing,” Jin’s wife absentmindedly said, thinking it was a compliment. In the corner of your eye, you can tell Jin was giving her a warning glare as if he didn’t want her to say anything else to you.

“Excuse me?” If she was trying to make you feel better about yourself, she was surely doing the opposite, but you hardened your face, so she couldn’t see that her words affected you. You knew that’s what she wanted, for you to be hurt. She wanted a reaction out of you, and you weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of getting it.

“You know, Y/N, from the way you talked about it, your relationship with Jungkook reminds me of Sarah and Jungkook’s relationship,” Su-ji said once she saw the picture Jules took of you and Jungkook laying down, cuddling in the blanket fort during New Years.

Although hearing the name of Jules’s mother made your heart drop, you kept your poker face on and continued to act like everything was okay. With confidence, you raised your eyebrows. “I’m not sure what that means.”

“Jin and I actually grew up with Sarah and Jungkook. We always went on lunch dates together while we were still in school,” Su-ji explained with a murderous smile on her face. “Kook’s a romantic, isn’t he? Opening the doors, cooking home-cooked meal, giving his jacket when it’s cold, and writing songs and poems weekly? He did that all the time for girls when we were younger. He did that for Sarah too.”

Your face softened at what Su-ji listed. They were all things he had never done for you, and you couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing. Did he want to do something new and fresh with you? Or did he just not put in effort and care?

Most of it wasn’t a big deal. There was nothing wrong with opening the door yourself and being prepared for cold weather. You could have easily just asked Jungkook for a piece of his clothing if you had wanted to. But the thing that bothered you the most was in a span of months, Jungkook has never written anything for you.

He was a songwriter, but somehow, he didn’t have any words for you.

You knew Su-ji was hurting your pride on purpose, but for some reason, you let her continue and listened to every word she had to say. She stared at the pictures on your phone. “The way he looks at you is almost identical to the way he looked at Sarah.”

“Su-ji...” Jin warned. “Stop now.”

"It’s almost as if you were Sarah.” Her sharp words cut like a knife. If it weren’t your phone that started ringing in her hands, you would have cried on the spot. You felt a little better seeing Jungkook’s name on your screen. “Oh speak of the devil.”

“Why don’t we call it a night? I’m sure Y/N needs some rest.” Jin suggested as you stared at your phone. “How about you girls go clean, I’ll go get the kids, and Y/N, stays here to talk to Jungkook?”

The girls, one by one, got up from the couch with their plates, heading towards the direction of the kitchen. As they left, each one of them gave you a look. Jin’s wife gave you a look of resentment, Jimin’s wife gave you a look of pity, and Tae’s wife gave you a look of worry.

You slid your thumb on the screen and answered Jungkook’s call. “Hey. What’s up?”

“How are you, darling?” His honey voice made you want to cry. All you wanted was to cry your heart out and have his voice and touch comfort you, but he was the reason why you wanted to cry. “Doing okay?”

“Yeah, the dinner went terrific. I really liked tonight,” you lied, trying not to let your voice crack. “I’m actually not feeling so well, so I’m leaving early with Jules in like five minutes.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? It sounds like you want to cry?” He could read you so easily. “Is something wrong? If something is wrong, I can take the next flight and be back with you as soon-”

“Everything is fine. Jules and I are fine.” Lie once again. “Please don’t worry.”

Jules came down the stairs, holding hands with Jin. She ran towards you with a smile on your face, cheering you up a little bit. “Is that Jungkook?”

“Do you want to talk to him?” You asked, and she shook her head. “Kook, I’m going to help Jules get ready to go home, and I’ll call you back once we’re there. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, of course. Drive home safely, okay? I miss you.”

“I’ll talk to you later.” You hung up the phone.

Jules put her arms out once she saw you grab her red winter coat from the armchair. As you helped her put her jacket on, you hear distant arguing.

“What were you thinking, Su-ji?! You had no right to do that! That behavior was unacceptable and immature of you.” Jin whispered as he scolded her.

“What are you talking about?”

“Talking about Sarah and Jungkook like that! Making Y/N feel bad when she did absolutely nothing to you. He paused. “Sarah might have been your best friend, but she would have been extremely disappointed in how you treated Jungkook’s girlfriend.”

“I don’t need a lecture from you, Jin,” Su-ji snapped. “I personally do not think I do anything wrong!”

“I wouldn’t even be having one if you had behaved like an adult!” He argued back. “Even Ji-Ho didn’t say anything degrading about her. She actually liked Y/N and she usually hates everybody at first.”

“Don’t you think she deserved to know? All I did was tell her the truth!”

“You didn’t help her!” Helping Jules put her black hat on, you tried to listen to more of their conversation. “You’re unbelievable. I am furious with you.”

“Sleep on the couch then if you just want to defend her instead of me.”

“If something happens between them because of this, I will never forgive you.”

It doesn’t take long for Jin to come back to the living room with a forced smile on his face. He went closer to where you and Jules were at, bent down, grabbed the white gloves and helped Jules put them on her hands.

“Jules, honey, aren’t you going to say bye to your favorite Uncle Jin?” You asked. “Thank him too.”

“Thank you Uncle Jinnie for the food and hugs.” She wrapped her arms around him, instantly, making him smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sweetie.” He let go of Jules and stood up, making eye contact with you as you put your jacket on. “I’ll walk you out.”

____

[seokjin]

i want to apologize for su-ji’s behavior. i should have stopped her, and i am sorry. you didn’t deserve that. i know you’re going to tell me that it’s okay, but save it. it really was not okay

you know what su-ji said isn’t true right?

jungkook only loved sarah as a sister

he didn’t love her like he loves you

i promise

It took you a while to respond to Jin’s text. You wanted to believe his words because he knew Jungkook better than anyone, but his wife’s words kept repeating in your head.

It’s almost as if you’re Sarah.

did he tell you that?

that he loved me differently than sarah?

He didn’t respond, and what you’ve learned in the past is that sometimes no answer is an answer.

___

"Why do you like me?” Jungkook was coming back tomorrow, and before his flight, you called him randomly. “Why me? Out of all people? I’m nothing special.”

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook asked. “Don’t say things like that. That’s not true.”

“I mean, come on, when you got to know me, I didn’t have a rough upbringing or had a special talent that made me stand out from others. I was just an ordinary person with parents and a few friends.”

As you waited for an answer, you opened your laptop and went onto a social networking website. Sighing, you looked up the one person that was on your mind lately ever since the dinner at Jin’s.

“You talk about how I’m so passionate about my dream and how I’m so amazing for growing up and taking care of Jules, but I think about you like that.”

“How so?” You breathed out, barely audible.

“Like I know it’s your job to take care of the kids and to make sure everyone is learning, but you take the time to connect with others and strive to make everything better is amazing.”

Sarah’s profile finally loaded onto your screen. Her profile picture was her and Jules, smiling on a park bench. Scrolling down, almost all her public and tagged pictures were with Su-ji and Jin’s family, celebrating almost every little occasion together. “Really?”

“And I know you want to take care of everyone and you’re okay with being by yourself, but I hope you know that there are people in the world who do care about you and will care about you.” His comforting words made you want to cry. “I care about you.”

Before you could say anything, the last picture you stumbled across on was a picture of Sarah and Jungkook together at her graduation. Sarah was wearing her cap and gown, holding a bouquet of roses in her hand. She had the biggest smile on her face as she looked up at Jungkook, who was in the middle of laughing. Although this picture of old, Jungkook almost looked the same and had the same features. The only difference was that he never looked quite as happy with you.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, bringing you back to reality. “What’s up?

Clearing your throat, you answered, “Yeah. I just was thinking.”

“I also love everything about you, you know? I love how you have a different, but such an understanding perspective about literally anything,” he said. “You’re special.”

“I hope so.”

“I’m going to sleep now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” You hung up the phone without saying anything, still staring at the picture of Jungkook and Sarah.

“What are you doing?” A gasp came out of your mouth as you shut the laptop lid as quickly as you could and turned your head to see Jules behind you. The look of confusion was all over her face along with heartache. “Why were you looking at pictures of my mom?”

“I’m not!” You denied, putting the laptop onto the table. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“You were.” She ignored your question, wanting actual answers. “I saw you.”

She took a seat next to you, looked at your for a long time and looked down at her fingers in her lap. “I know it’s been a long time, but I know what my mom looks like, and I know you were looking at her.”

“Honey-” Jules ran up the stairs, not hearing your explanation or excuse.

“I missed you so much.” The moment Jungkook saw you in the airport, he ran as fast as he could with his silver carry on suitcase, wrapping his arms around you. It was the tightest hug you’ve ever received, and you never wanted to let go. “I missed Jules too, but I really missed you.”

He pulled away and saw the tiny red bag in your left hand. “I got you a gift for White Day.”

“You didn’t have to.” Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, you two walked slowly towards the exit. “Is this really for White Day?”

“What else would it be for?”

“A gift for being insecure?”

You stopped in your tracks, and he took it as a sign to let go of you. “What?”

“Well, I don’t know what to think when you asked me things I liked about you, and then Jules telling me you were looking up Sarah.” Not wanting to meet his stare, you continued looking down at the ground at your feet. Once you looked back up, he saw the guilt in your eyes. He scoffed and rubbed under his nose in disbelief, taking your silence as his answer. His tone of voice changed. “I can’t believe you.”

“Why does it bother you, Jungkook? Maybe I was just curious. Is that so wrong?”

“Except you weren’t! You and I both know that!” His voice grew louder with each word he said. It was the first time he was raising his voice at you, and it was a surprise. He was always the one who always kept calm in the most heated situations. “I told you everything about Sarah.”

“Not the fact that she was head over heels for you!” You cried.

“Oh my god. Is this what this is about? You wanted to see if Sarah was in love with me?” He shook his head. This wasn’t the Jungkook you knew; he was acting different. “Who even told you that?”

“Does it really matter?” You stared at him. “I was bound to find out sooner or later.”

He shook his head. “No one looks pictures of dead strangers unless they want to know something.”

“Fine! I just wanted to know if what the girls said was true. They said that you two were madly in love. They said I was practically a replacement for Sarah. I just had to find out if it was true.” You paused when Jungkook looked away, not wanting to look at you. Not only that, but you noticed there were tears that were about to fall from his eyes. “She was beautiful and looked so happy with you. You looked happy with her too.”

Silence.

“Seokjin told me that you didn’t love her.”

Silence.

“Is that true?”

Silence once again.

“Jungkook, I can’t compete with her.”

He finally looked back at you and grabbed your hands. “I’m not asking you to.”

“I can’t do this,” you cried, pulling away. “I want to be with you and want you to want me because you love me. Not because I remind you of the girl who isn’t here anymore.”

“Don’t do this,” he whispered. “Don’t say that.”

“Do you realize how badly it hurt when they told me that?” Sobbing, you covered your mouth holding back any ugly sounds you were going to produce. “I was humiliated and felt like I would never measure up.”

“You are more than good enough.”

“What am I supposed to think when they told me that?”

“Believe me and Seokjin when I say that I have feelings for you.” You knew he was trying to comfort you, but you noticed that he didn’t straight out admit that he didn’t have feelings for Sarah.

“You’ve never written me a song,” The color drained out of his face as he heard your voice crack; you got your answer. There were tears falling down your face, but he didn’t wipe them like he always did when you cried after watching sad movies. “You have never written me anything.”

He let go of your hands.

You walked away, and he didn’t even come after you. __

lowkey not proofread but i really just want to continue this hehe thanks for reading

#bangtanwriters-net #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook scenarios #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #too young

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galahadwilder · 4 years ago

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Say It Later, Say It Now

I wrote this fic for the @luckycharmzine!

Marinette and Adrien are dating and happy. Marinette finds out Adrien is Chat Noir. Adrien finds out Marinette is Ladybug.

You’d think this would make things simpler. You’d be wrong.

Marinette falls back on her bed with a huff, arms splayed wide, and stares up through her skylight into the cloudless Paris sky. She takes a moment to imagine her comforter is a pink, fluffy cloud, that she’s lying in the sky somewhere drifting on the breeze, that her world hasn’t been turned upside down again and that the only thing she has to worry about is the sun on her face and the ground a thousand miles below.

Then she breathes in, remembers how his face looked into that same skylight just two nights before, and the moment is lost.

“He’s Chat Noir,” she murmurs to herself, throwing her arm over her eyes. “My boyfriend is Chat Noir.”

In retrospect, it makes perfect sense. Both boys have the same kind heart, the same terrible sense of humor, the same smile, the same sadness behind their eyes. Despite their superficial differences, deep down they are clearly the same. But if she hadn’t seen him destransform, she never would have guessed that polite, well-behaved Adrien was the same person as her boisterous and jovial partner.

She has no idea what emotion she’s feeling right now—is she happy? Scared? Angry? No way to tell—but it’s definitely intense. She feels her nails digging into her palm, her tendons pressing against the skin of her knuckles, and forces herself to take a deep breath, loosen her muscles.

Tikki peers down from her unhappy cookie-munching in her little nook above Marinette’s bed, alcove hidden from anyone entering from both below and above. “Marinette?” she says. “Are you… all right?”

Marinette turns onto her side, curls up into a fetal position, hugging her knees to her chest. “I… Tikki, I—I have no idea,” she murmurs, staring at a thread that’s poking out of her handmade pillowcase. She’s gonna have to fix that soon. “I mean, both guys I’m into being the same guy? And him falling for both of me?” She groans. “I know I’m Ladybug, but that’s stupid lucky.” She closes her eyes, chews on her lip. “It’s… too much.”

Marinette feels Tikki light on the pillow in front of her, and opens her eyes to see her Kwami hugging her nose with a bashful grin. “Stupid lucky is what I do,” Tikki says.

Marinette smiles, nuzzling into Tikki’s tummy. “Yeah,” she says. “Yeah it is.”

Tikki’s pats Marinette’s forehead with her paw. “Do you need me to turn off the lights?” she says.

Marinette nods.

There’s a moment of silence as Tikki flits off toward the door, and then the lights click off, bathing Marinette in blessed darkness. Immediately, her senses begin to calm, and her thoughts arrange.

Then she realizes something.

“Oh, no,” she breathes, rolling onto her back. “Tikki?” she says, her voice small.

Tikki flits into view over her, looking down at her with concern. “Marinette?”

Marinette stares up at her Kwami, her heart thrumming with fear. “He doesn’t know I’m Ladybug,” she says.

Tikki shakes her head. “No,” she says. “He doesn’t.”

Marinette winces. “I’m going to have to tell him.”

“Oh, cats. Oh, cats. Oh, CATS,” Adrien says, pacing a trench into the floor of his room. “I’m… I’m dating Ladybug.” He grinds the heels of his palms into his eyes. “How did I not see it?”

Plagg snorts into his Camembert. “Took you long enough.”

Adrien drops into his computer chair, presses his hand to his forehead and runs his fingers up and back through his shaggy hair. “Cats,” he hisses. He should’ve seen it. Ladybug and Marinette don’t just have the same fire, the same brilliant mind—every part of them is the same, right down to the way they scrunch their noses when they’re thinking. And yet, if he hadn’t seen her detransform… “What am I—” He chokes. “What am I even supposed to do?”

Plagg smirks without taking his eyes from his cheese. “Come on, Kitten,” he drawls. “You’ve been planning how to date Ladybug as long as I’ve known you. You talked my ear off every night for three years until I convinced you to go for Bakery Girl instead.”

Adrien chokes, wheels around toward his Kwami. “And you knew the whole time!” he yelps, jabbing a finger at the tiny cat. “You knew they were the same person!”

Plagg raises an eyebrow, tilting his head contemplatively. “Yes I did,” he says with a sly smile. “Gotta say, watching you moon over her twice was better than those KDramas Tikki loves so much.”

Adrien blinks, swiveling in his chair. “Is that where you go at night?”

Plagg shrugs. “Some nights, yeah.” He nibbles on his Camembert, before looking up at his wielder. “So,” he says, “how are you planning to tell her?”

Adrien stumbles backward and collapses into his computer chair. “Oh, cats,” he breathes, staring blankly at his computer screen. “I have to tell her.”

Marinette arrives early for school the next day. She’s rarely awake this early, but knowing what she needed to do had left her too jittery to sleep. She’s too nervous to sit, but too tired to pace, so she stands in place, her bag held over her knees, waiting for her boyfriend to arrive.

“You okay?” Tikki whispers from inside the backpack held between Marinette’s hands.

“Nope!” Marinette whispers back with a grin that she’s fairly certain doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She’s excited—her boyfriend is secretly also the boy she trusts more than anything else in the world. But on the other hand, she’s been hiding a huge part of her life from him for as long as she’s known him, and she has no idea if he’ll ever forgive her.

So she stands, waiting for her soulmate, her other half, the boy she loves, to arrive so she can spill his secret.

She’s so lost in her thoughts that she doesn’t even notice when he does. Adrien folds her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. “Morning—”

She shrieks, leaping backward, almost slamming her skull into his chin.

“—Myyyyy… rinette!” he says.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!” Marinette yelps, trying to turn in his arms to comfort him.

He only laughs, holding her tight against his chest. “It’s fine!” he says brightly, kissing her head again. He presses his cheek to her scalp and nuzzles. “I knew the consequences when I snuck up on you.”

“You do love to do that,” she murmurs fondly. Just another bit of the cat in him that she should’ve seen. Then her eyes widen. “Hey,” Marinette says. “You didn’t call me Princess.”

Adrien’s arms stiffen around her. “Um,” he says, a tremble in his voice.

She bites her lip, forcing down a spike of annoyance at his father—she recognizes Gabriel’s hand in that tremble. She puts her backpack down on the steps and takes his hand. “It’s okay, Adrien” she says, soft. “You’re allowed to give me more than one pet name.”

He breathes out, relieved, all the tension gone from his body, and she realizes—she can’t tell him right now. Maybe later.

Yeah. Later’s good.

He’d almost called her “My Lady.” Oh, cats, that was not how he wanted her to find out.

He’s glad she sits behind him, because while he definitely can’t concentrate in class today, if she were in front of him—especially after that—he doesn’t think he’d be able to even pretend to be paying attention.

She seems clumsier than usual today. A lot of her more extreme pratfalls disappeared by around their third date, once he made it clear that he didn’t mind her word vomit and in fact found it kind of cute. But today, every time she meets his eyes, it seems like she’s halfway to the floor again, and he’s barely on his toes enough to catch her.

He can’t help feeling a little thrill, though, that he’s having this effect on Ladybug. One-year-ago-Adrien would be having a heart attack right now. As it is, everything’s a little too soft and warm with her for that.

“Adrien, I’m fine,” his Princess—his Lady—protests, burying her face in her hands.

“Not today you’re not,” he say with a smile and the Soft Eyes she loves so much. “Besides, I’m not gonna pass up a chance to be gallant.”

Marinette pouts, gesturing downwards to where his arms are holding her up, supporting both her shoulders and her knees. “Sure, but you don’t think carrying me all the way to the lunchroom is a little bit much?”

“Nope!” Adrien says.

He sees Nino and Alya ahead of them, synchronized mock-gagging at them, but he ignores them.

“Ugh, you are the worst,” she says, reaching up to scratch under his chin.

He purrs, smiling—

And then suddenly realizes that she doesn’t know he can do that.

Also, Marinette doesn’t scritch Adrien. Ladybug for Chat, sure, but… she doesn’t know it’s him. And she definitely wouldn’t reveal her identity like that if she did.

He swallows, barely taking a moment to realize that Marinette has gone as white as a sheet.

“Mari?” he says. “Are you okay?”

“Fffffine!” she shrieks, leaping out of his arms—or at least trying to. He’s supporting her too well, and her flats hook onto his elbow, and he barely has time to brace before they’re both sprawled across each other on the ground.

The entire hall comes to a halt, staring at them, as Marinette’s face gets steadily redder. Adrien realizes—his body weight is pressed on top of her, pinning her down, and she’s regressed today for some reason—she’s about to explode. He reaches out toward her—

“I’m sorry!” she shrieks, clapping her hands over her mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m��are you—oh gosh I’m so sorry—”

It’s an utterly surreal moment, realizing that this girl, who has pitched him across entire city blocks without batting an eye, is having a panic attack over tripping him. It’s all he can do to roll of her, climb to his feet, and hold out a hand.

“It’s okay, Marinette,” he says, smiling gently. “I’m fine. You okay?”

Her pupils slowly begin to contract again as her breathing slows and she takes his hand. “I—I’m okay,” she says.

He pulls her up with a smile. “I love you,” he says. “I have to expect you to…” He waggles his eyebrows. “...sweep me off my feet every once in a while.”

She giggles, closing her eyes, and he realizes he can’t tell her now. Later, maybe.

Yeah. Later’s good.

Ladybug arrives for patrol in a bit of a funk. School was excruciating—she hasn’t been that clumsy in front of her boyfriend since the first time they kissed, she spent all day making a fool of herself and she couldn’t once get up the courage to tell him what she knew. She’s almost ashamed to be meeting him now, knowing his secret with him not knowing hers.

But as she lights onto the rooftop, she sees in his hunched posture that he seems not to have had the best day either. Which is… odd. He seemed fine when they left school?

“Everything okay?” she says, padding up behind him and sitting on the roof next to him, kicking her legs out into open air.

He turns to her with wide, sad eyes. “I—um,” he begins. “Girl troubles.”

Ladybug’s heart rate spikes. Girl troubles? He’s Adrien; there’s only one girl in his life. Troubles? Did he—did her clumsiness embarrass him? Did he finally decide she wasn’t good enough?

“Are you breaking up with me?” she whispers, hugging her stomach.

His head snaps around, his eyes wide. “Wait—” he gasps, his face bone-white. “My—Marinette, I’d never—” He bites his lip. “You know?”

Ladybug nods with a whimper. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Suddenly his palms are on her cheeks, his forehead pressed to hers. “I love you, My Lady, My Princess, My—My Marinette,” he breathes in a rush. He smiles. “I’m here as long as you’ll have me.”

Relief floods her body as she realizes—he’s not leaving her. He’s staying. “Your—girl trouble,” she manages. “You found out?”

He closes his eyes and nods. “Saw you yesterday.”

She giggles, tears coming to her eyes. “Same.”

“Cats,” he snorts. “We’re both idiots.”

“Yeah, but you’re my idiot,” she says, scratching his scalp, smiling as he begins to purr. “Always and forever.”

“I can live with that,” he whispers, raising her chin and meeting her lips with his.

379 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago

Text

Worth the Risk

CW: Referenced past domestic violence, memories of trauma, some PTSD references, vaguely referenced noncon, abuse survivor navigating relationship conflict, BBU politics

Follow-up to Akio’s Idea

The sun glances off Kauri’s shoulder, lights his pale skin in gold, turns one wide blue eye to a kind of shimmering precious metal. He sits on the bed, on the soft comforter that he helped Jake pick out when he started staying here, soft as down, as feathers, as the way Jake holds him. His stomach twists with cold nervousness, but he manages, his voice low, even deeper, with time, than when he and Jake first met, to ask, “What did you just say?”

“I said no.” Jake closes the door, Kauri listens to the click, part of him eternally on edge for the sound of a lock. There isn’t one, on this door. Jake bought door knobs without a lock, Kauri watched him install it. He can open this door whenever he wants.

He can leave, if he has to.

If he wants to.

“Yeah, I heard you. I think you should reconsider, Jake. This idea - it’s the best one anyone could have. It’ll be public, too public, not something they can come back at without it being really obvious it’s them. If they do this and Chris disappears… people will notice. If they do this, and we get raided, or the Nakamura kid gets threatened, people - the media, our fucking neighbors, the fucking government - will notice.”

“The government is why you all have to hide in the first place.” Jake groans, leaning back against the door. “The government passed the laws that keep you all hiding, that mean you can’t go to school, get paying jobs. The government made those raids legal in the first place! You can’t be serious, Kauri. You cannot be seriously thinking about going along with this.” He’s sincere, but Kauri bristles, too.

You can’t be serious, Kor-Bore. Those rocks in your head must be rolling around too fast.

“Well, I-I am. I think it’s a good idea, I think Chris should do it if he wants-”

“I don’t want him involved in this.” Jake’s voice is flat. It’s solid. It brooks no appeal, but Kauri isn’t ready to be ground down under it, no this time. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembers he wrote a poem once, not for a class just for himself, and the words were

I will say, more weight and take the stones you lay upon me still I will breathe in, out more weight

“Jake, I don’t think it’s your choice.”

Jake looks at him from across the room, tall and imposing, all muscles and bulk. His jaw works while he thinks, and Kauri has kissed that jaw, rubbed his own to redness on the stubble there, has watched it soften and relax at the end of hard days with him, just with him, alone in here with a door he can open any time he wants. “What do you mean?”

“Chris’s life isn’t yours,” Kauri says, pitching his already deep voice lower. “It just isn’t. Neither is mine. We-... Jake, I love you, but… if Chris wants to do this, he’s a grown man. He gets to make that decision, and we-... you… don’t.”

He sees the words hit Jake, and Kauri swallows the apology that he feels bubble up in his throat. He doesn’t have to be sorry, for saying something true.

Jake’s eyes move away from his, head shaking, a bit of his ash-blond hair falling over his forehead. It’s gotten shaggy, he’s overdue for a haircut. Kauri likes to watch him, sitting in the backyard with a towel over his shoulders, Antoni clipping centimeters with perfect steadiness, running the electric clipper up the back, leaving the remainder soft and perfect for Kauri’s fingers to run through.

“Kauri-”

“Jake. I’m not with you because you tell us what to do. I’m with you because you don’t.” Kauri’s voice stays low, and it’s not trembling, or faint, or weak. Just… soft, but in a way that still carries across the room. He sits back against the headboard, crossing his arms, and makes himself meet Jake’s gaze.

Blue on blue, always.

“I’m not telling anyone what to do-”

“You literally just said to me, in your own fucking words, Jake Stanton, I said no. Please, explain to me how that’s not telling Chris and I what to do. Yeah? Elaborate, I’m happy to hear it.”

Jake’s eyes narrow. He bristles, defensively, and Kauri’s heart beats hard, pounding against his breastbone. The old scar on his collarbone, still a twisted bit of skin that feels oddly silky under his fingers, begins to itch, to ache. It’s an old phantom pain, a reminder - don’t fight back.

But he won’t back down, or lower his eyes. Not this time.

“I’m not-... Kaur, I’m just saying no to Chris’s, to his friend’s plan, that’s all.” Jake moves towards him, hands out like a supplicant. Kauri swallows against the sense of fingers brushing over his throat, thumbs pressing to his pulse, pushing in. He pretends he can’t feel the push to forgive forget be good.

He only waits, gives the silence time to tick out between them, and raises one eyebrow in skepticism. He can feel his own pulse flutter, anxiety chilling the tips of his fingers and his toes, flipping his stomach. Jake won’t hurt him, for this. He won’t.

After the pause draws out, Jake drops onto the bed himself, sitting at the edge facing one of the windows, looking at the pristine cloudless blue over the tops of the neighborhood houses. His elbows rest on his thighs. He looks tired, in a way he hasn’t looked in years. Tired like he used to look, when he ran on coffee and the smallest victories.

He’s as handsome as Kauri remembers from his earliest blurry feverish memories, although his jawline is sharper now. Every year is written on them both, one way or another. Kauri has his own changes, that he can see in the mirror if he doesn’t look for too long, if he pushes past the headaches that still hit every time he sees himself.

Kauri sees the weight pushing Jake down, the way he feels like he carries them all, long after they’ve more or less learned to stand on their own two feet. He swallows - Jake isn’t his keeper, and never was. He’s meant to be love, the kind that doesn’t lock the doors, the kind that never says you’re so lucky someone will take care of you, you can’t take care of yourself.

“It’s just.” Jake sighs and puts his head in his hands. “Even if it does work for Chris - and who knows if it will - even if it protects him, it could put everyone else in serious danger. My new rescues, you, Antoni, even Nat… everyone.”

“Or,” Kauri offers, voice softening a little, “It could make us all safer by making everyone refuse to look away any longer. Make it harder to make us disappear. You don’t know-”

“That’s just it, Kauri!” Jake turns to look at him, genuinely distraught. Kauri’s fingertips itch to touch, to soothe, to fix. He doesn’t move. “Nobody knows. Nobody has any idea what will happen, no one’s ever done anything like this before!”

Kauri wants to run his fingers through that mussed-up hair, straddle his lap, kiss away his fears. He knows, instinct and training, how to fix unhappiness with his body. Seven years and still, still he knows, deep down.

Instead, Kauri swallows, raises his chin, and sets his jaw. He holds.

“We… we could be freed, Jake.” His voice is barely above a whisper, insistent. “All of us. All of us who run away, me-... Ant, yeah, but also the new ones, and the older ones still on the streets. We could stop hiding. We could-”

“Get thrown into a van,” Jake says, voice cracking a little. “You could be dragged back by fucking WRU into that fucking place. You could disappear, and I’ll never-” Jake’s eyes glitter a little, red at the edges. “I’ll never see you again. Not you… not Ant, not Chris, not anybody. Kauri, I can’t-... everybody who disappears into WRU, they don’t come back.”

“I came back,” Kauri says, voice soft. “I went back in and I came back out-”

“Because Owen Grant fucking paid them to take you back in!” Kauri doesn’t flinch at the sound of his name, not anymore. He doesn’t shiver, although he still feels the chill down his spine. His arms drop, hands back on the comforter, rubbing over a seam sewn in. The headboard makes his back ache where his shoulder blades press against the carved wood. He’s been tied up before, hands wrapped in ropes, his shoulders smacking back into the headboard with every shift of Owen’s hips, until he bruised, and Owen pressed his hand into the bruise and said, I did that, Kor-Bore. I made you look like this. You’re mine.

“But we can come back out without-... without losing ourselves,” Kauri says, voice starting to shake, now. He can feel the bruises that aren’t there. He can see the focus in Owen’s green eyes, too close, feel sweat that isn’t his dripping onto his skin. He can-

He can’t-

“If they want you to. But they won’t, Kauri. And if you get dragged back, after this long, after… after everything… I can’t fail you like that, Kauri. Not you, not Chris. I can’t fail you all like that.”

“You wouldn’t.” Kauri leans forward, now. When Jake leans towards him, he lays a hand over Jake’s, rubs a thumb over his knuckles. “It’s not your responsibility to decide if we speak out. It wouldn’t be your failure, either. But if it works… this could change everything for us. Nobody ever-... nobody ever wants to stand up for us, Jake, not like this. This could make me safer than I’ve ever been, and Chris, too.”

Jake is silent, looking down at their hands. Then he takes in a deep breath. “I think… I think you’ve seen good people for so long,” He says, heavily, words coming out only with effort, “that you’ve forgotten that most people are fucking awful.”

“I haven’t-”

“We’ve been… we’ve been really fortunate, Kauri...”

So fucking lucky.

“... and I can’t risk losing my rescues, just so Chris’s friend can make a fucking point.”

“That Nakamura kid had the idea, yeah, but… Chris wants to do this. He wants to, um, to take Tristan back from this, from these people who stole him.” Kauri curves his fingers into Jake’s palm, squeezes his hand. “He wants to do this for himself, sure, but also for everyone else like him. The, the underagers-”

Jake winces at the reminder and Kauri, always keyed in to the potential negative emotions of anyone around him, can see the old anger simmering under the surface. He wasn’t there when Chris came to stay, but he heard the fury in Jake’s voice when he described it, knows that Chris was Jake’s little brother long before the papers were ever signed to make it official.

“Right,” Jake mumbles.

He’s not mad at me. He’s not mad at me. He’s not mad at me. He’s not.

“He wants to make sure it won’t happen to other ones like him,” Kauri says, keeping soft, telling himself he’s not trying to sound sweet, or good. “Even if we can’t stop it, if all we do is make them stop taking kids-”

“Kaur, they’ll just get quieter about it. They won’t stop, they’ll just stop leaving tracks, stop making it so we can find them. Don’t you get that?”

Jesus, Kauri, don’t you get it?

Kauri’s breath catches. He has to force the exhale, it comes only with effort, through a throat closing. His scar itches even more. “Jake, you’re-... you’re n-not seeing that it doesn’t have to be the worst-case scenario-

“I can see just fine.” Jake pulls his hand away, rubbing at his face, his temples. Kauri sits there with his own hand still out, his fingers curved around nothing but air. “It’s you guys who just can’t see how this is really going to end. You, and Akio, and Chris, you’re all fucking convinced it’s going to solve itself, that we’ll, what? Tell everyone what happened and then you’ll get a standing fucking ovation and the credits roll, world changed, easy as that?”

“Jake, we-... no one is saying this is going to be easy, or-”

“You all are. You’re all saying that!” Jake’s voice is rising, not mad at me he’s not mad at me he’s not mad at me he’s not, and Kauri leans away. His scar burns, pain singing through it like the wires were never removed. He did it himself, he held the bloody things in his hand and stared at them before he passed out on a trashbag on some shitty motel floor, he did it himself and they’re gone but they hurt, anyway.

“You’re acting like one big show will fix it, and you know what it does? It starts it. It starts a whole new set of problems - not even for me, Kaur, for everyone else who runs a safehouse! You’re putting every fucking rescue in serious fucking danger, and you say it’s not my responsibiliy, but you are all my responsibility!”

“We’re adults!” Kauri snaps the words before he can think enough not to. “We’re not kids, Jake, and we’re all-... we’ve all been working for years to be people, and we are. If we want to take the risk-”

“For yourselves, sure, go ahead, fine. Go flying off the fucking cliff and I’ll be there to pick your bodies out of the fucking rubble after.” Jake stands again, pacing, stomping along the floor. Kauri wonders if they can hear him, downstairs. He briefly blocks the light coming in through the window, the room darkens slightly. Kauri’s breath comes faster. “But you can’t put everyone else at risk. You can’t. I won’t let you.”

“You can’t stop us, either.” Jake turns to look at him, and Kauri’s voice nearly falters, dies in his throat. But he pushes, he forces himself to keep speaking. His hand moves unconsciously to scratch at his scar through his shirt, the itch is driving him crazy. “We’re already all at risk, Jake. They pick us up on the street sometimes, if someone calls in a tip. They send vans to safehouses already - you got your ass kicked when they tried to come for Chris-”

“I protected him, then! I can’t protect him if he stands around waving a sign that says I’m a pet, WRU come get me!”

“Maybe Chris decides if he needs protecting, now.” Kauri can hear his own voice dipping into a plea, and he scratches harder, digging his nails into the cotton fabric of his shirt until the skin underneath is burning hot with the ache.

The little circles get hot when Owen sets them off, just a fraction of a second’s warning before the pain that follows on its heels.

“Maybe-... maybe I decide if I need protecting, too. I wish you would understand-”

“I wish you would understand, Kaur! But it feels like you just… don’t, or can’t. Like, it doesn’t matter what I fucking say, it’s just not sinking in, is it?”

There’s a silence, in the room, then.

You’re so fucking stupid.

“Jake-”

“I’m not the bad guy here,” Jake says, almost desperately. He’s not looking at Kauri - he doesn’t see the wrinkle between his eyes as his eyebrows come together, doesn’t see the look on his face, doesn’t see that Kauri’s eyes glitter now, too. “I mean, I’m not trying to be, I just-”

Don’t look at me like that, baby, I’m not the bad guy here. You’re the one who thought you could fucking cook. God, you’re lucky someone loves you.

“... want to keep everyone safe, and staying under the radar is the only thing that’s ever worked. You know, groups have tried going public before, and they get raided, they get hurt. All I’m trying to do is look out for you and Chris, take care of you-”

I’m taking care of you, Kor-Bore. Jesus, it’s not like you could take care of yourself.

“-and everyone else. I love you, Kauri, so much, I want you in my life more than anything-”

I love you, baby. Who else would want you?

“... Chris, too, and I’ve worked so hard to keep all of you safe, and I’m so scared to lose you, I just want you to get that. I can’t see this ending any way but badly, and I’m s-so scared. And you’re so busy staring into the sun trying to figure out how to fly there, and nobody’ll fucking listen to me saying your wings are made of fucking wax. It’s like talking to fucking walls.”

Talking to you is like talking to a gorgeous fucking brick wall, isn’t it?

There’s a bright flash of pain as Kauri breaks skin over his scars. He gasps, a little, for half a second he’s waiting for his muscles to lock, nerves to feel like fire right down to his fingertips, for it all to go horribly, painfully, agonizingly wrong. The shock doesn’t come, but instead Kauri feels new heat inside him.

I know I asked for you to be stupid, but Jesus Christ, Kor-Bore, this is something else.

“I’m not stupid,” He whispers.

Jake blinks and looks over at him, then. Kauri meets his eyes, and sees Jake’s expression shift, and change, in a way that feels like worry, the prelude to an apology. For half a second, Kauri wants to wait, to hear it, to forgive him.

But Owen apologized, too, over and over, and then he called Kauri stupid again anyway, or hurt him, over and over, until he begged for it to stop, until he pleaded, until he was quiet and soft and sweet and forgot how to be anything else.

Kauri had to fight, for his sharp edges.

He won’t let anyone take them away again.

“Shit,” Jake whispers. “Kauri, I didn’t mean-”

“Shut up.” Jake’s mouth snaps shut. “I’m not stupid, Jakob Stanton. I’m not. It doesn’t matter how many ways you or anyone else says it, you can’t make me think I’m stupid anymore!”

“I wasn’t-”

“I said stop talking!” Kauri pushes off the bed now, stalking across the room. He aches, all his muscles remember the aftermath of fighting back, but he ignores the pains he knows are being fed by his memories and not by anything real. “Just… just stop, and listen to me, Jake. Okay. Can you just. Can you just listen?”

Jake swallows, slowly sitting back down on the bed, and nods, hands where Kauri can see them, flat on the bedspread. “Yeah. You, uh. Go on.”

“Thank you for the fucking permission slip, Mr. Stanton. Go fuck yourself, I don’t need you to tell me when I can and can’t talk.” Kauri’s voice drips anger, it’s bathed in it, years and years and years of anger built inside him finally breaking through the cracks in his sweetness. “I’m less than two years younger than you, more or less, so stop treating me like I’m a fucking infant. Which, by the way, neither is Chris.”

Jake doesn’t try to speak this time.

Good.

“I’ve been on the run for seven years. I’m fucking tired. Antoni’s been gone for a decade. Chris has been out for, what, five years? Six? And we’re all still under the radar. None of us have our original names, our original lives. We can’t go home, because we don’t have one anymore! If this idea works, then there are hundreds - maybe thousands of us, Jesus fuck - who could go home again! Who could put our faces on papers and see if anyone knows who we are! We-we could ask for blood tests, we could do the DNA matches they do when they find our bodies, we could-... we could remind everyone who walks past us begging for change that we were goddamn people, and we can be people again!”

Jake swallows. Kauri watches his throat bob with the movement. His collarbone is on fire, but it’s only feeding the hotter flame inside him, the way it feels to just say what he thinks and not have anyone talk over or around it.

Jake watches him.

Jake listens.

“Chris has something we almost never get back. He has his name. He has Tristan Higgs and even more than that, Tristan Higgs had friends. Tristan Higgs had a family, and friends, and this whole life and-... and he found it again.”

“I would-... you know I’d help you find your family in a heartbeat-”

“Jake, that’s not my point. This isn’t about me, or my life, or any of it. I’m just trying to say… Chris wants to do this. He’s wanting to be so fucking brave, braver than I am, than a-any of us here are going to be, probably. He’s going to look WRU in the eyes and tell them Tristan Higgs isn’t forgotten. If you tell him not to, he w-won’t, but… but I think you should tell him to do what he thinks is right, instead. And prepare for it to not be the thing you want him to do.”

Jake nods, just barely. Then, he offers, “Kauri, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to imply-”

“I know. But you did. You said I’m stupid not to agree with you, and that’s not true.”

“That’s not what I-”

“Jake. Just listen to me.”

“Right.”

There’s power in this moment, in telling someone to listen to him, to stop, and having them just… do it. In his mind, Kauri shoves Owen up against a wall, throws him off the fucking balcony, drowns him in the bathtub, smothers him with a pillow locks him in the fucking box from WRU that he locked Kauri in for sensory deprivation pulls the giant TV over on top of him burns the fucking condo to the ground-

-cuts the wires out of himself, piece by piece, screaming with the pain even as his fingers twist into the pieces and pull them out, blacks out and wakes up and keeps going, again and again, until the only thing left is the blood-

Kauri’s chin lifts, and he holds out his hands for Jake to take, but it’s not weakness. He’s not appeasing the danger in the room, he is the danger.

He can be dangerous.

He can own himself so thoroughly that no one can take him away from himself, not ever again.

“You think I’m naive,” He says, softly. “Because we all start that way. You think that I don’t know what could happen to us after this. But I’m telling you… I know I could disappear. I could know that we could get hurt. I know how bad it can be. I know what it’s like, going back in there.”

Jake pulls his hands close, kisses the backs of them, slowly leans his forehead to touch there against Kauri’s knuckles. “I’m so scared to lose you,” He whispers. “All of you.”

“I know,” Kauri says, and his voice gentles, now. “I know you are. But… Jake, what I’m saying is… we’ve all already lost everything there was to lose. We lost our families, if we had any. We lost our memories. We lost our names. Chris, and I…”

He pulls his hands free, moves closer, lets Jake lean forward to rest against his stomach, his fingers running through his short blond hair. Kauri’s eyes light on a framed photo, one Jake has carried with him for years.

Jake with Chris at the beach, Kauri standing off to the side shading his eyes. All of them smiling.

“We know what it means to be lost. And we want to tell WRU that no matter what they do, the whole world is going to see what happens to kids like Chris in the system, and I-... I want you to trust me, Jake. Just for this. Trust me that I’ve thought through every single outcome, even the worst ones, and… I think the risk is worth it.”

Jake is quiet, his breathing warm on Kauri’s stomach, the hair at his nape soft under Kauri’s fingertips.

“I’m just scared,” Jake whispers.

Kauri nods, even though Jake can’t see it. Then he says, softly, “I’m not.”

Another pause. “Okay. I love you, Kaur. I-I’m scared shitless, but... I trust you. I need your help to plan for what we’re going to do to make sure my people aren’t here when it happens. I-I can’t-... I’ll help you, but… but I need your help, too.”

Kauri smiles. He tries not to feel triumph. He does, a little.

Mostly he feels like he could walk out the door right now and Jake wouldn’t stop him - but he doesn’t have to. He knows he can.

He doesn’t want to.

“I love you, too, Jake. Let me talk to Keira. I think-... I think I know what we can do to make sure if WRU tries to come for the safehouses, they won’t find a single goddamn one of us at home.”

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump , @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @downriver914 @vickytokio

#whump #speak out arc #bbu #box boy #box boy universe #box boy multiverse #erase to control #jake the shelter guy #referenced past noncon #referenced past pet whump #very brief vague reference to ableist torture #pet whump #trauma recovery #ptsd tw #abuse survivor tw

133 notes · View notes

moosoobi · 4 years ago

Text

Revelation

In the night: Chapter 1

T.Jeffy- Hamilton: the musical

Thomas’s interest in Y/N pulls him into a position he was previously blind to. They say every girl’s another mystery, but definitely not like this. Buckle your seatbelt Tommy, you’re in for a ride

Finally finished the first part of ITN (which is ironic since the moment I wrote this message I still haven’t finished it). I really hope I’m able to bring this story to life the way I want to and I hope y’all enjoy 😔💕. Here’s some stuff to expect:

Told from Thomas’s POV

Modern Au

College talk even though I’m literally in my second year of high school (so please bear with me)

Ruh roh moments

Sorta weird POV/storytelling (I’m new to writing fics and stuff so this is definitely a learning opportunity) Also excuse my English errors: Though this is my only language, my school system seemed to fail in teaching me how to write

Word count: 6.7k (including separators)

2 DISCLAIMERS:

TW: itty bitty angst, themes of injury/blood, etc.

I’m not the best story writer, so after reading this chapter you may have many questions. Please keep in mind that this is one chapter out of (about) 10. Things that you may not understand in this chapter will most likely be explained in future chapters.

-Now Playing: In The Night by The Weeknd-

My God, she’s perfect

The way the sunlight reflects off of her glass skin. The sincerity in every word, every letter that she writes with her only pencil. To be that flawless, it’s a mystery to me. She takes a glance at me. Did she feel me staring? I duck down my head in embarrassment.

“Jefferson, you oughta put that scholarship to good use”

Professor Washington boomed to the entire class. I hear a fragment of her giggle. Her laugh is soft and naïve. I couldn't help but smile at the sound of her happiness.

Washington is right, though. It's my first semester after I came back from my student exchange program over in France and I can already feel my sanity slipping. France was a beauty to visit, so many customs and cultures I wish I could be flourished in right now.

But there was one thing great about going to school in New York: I get to sit in a classroom with Y/N L/N.

I’ve never talked to her formally, at least not yet. She’s always sitting alone, never answers any questions, but Professor Washington makes the class acknowledge her perfect test scores and fascinating interpretations

As the bell rings I watch her stand swiftly. Is she in a rush? I can't help but watch as her hair is flung over her shoulder. She stuffs her notebooks and singular pencil into her burgundy-magenta backpack. Hey, at least she has good taste in color.

I don’t think you understand

She sits alone everyday during lunch, yet she never looks bothered. Her energy is so compelling to me. A feeling about her that I cannot comprehend, something that feels greater than my existence. I just got to know.

“Thomas, you gotta work on staring at people less noticeable” James catches my attention by pointing his fork a little too close to my face.

I was staring? Again?

I shake my head to snap back to reality

“The great Thomas Jefferson is interested in someone for longer than 30 seconds. I gonna be honest with you Thom, that’s impressing”

I hear James laugh as he violently stabs a few pieces of pasta onto his fork.

James has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. We went to the same middle and high school down in Virginia, and just coincidentally ended up going to the same college in New York.

We’re always there for each other. I remember cheering for him at a high school assembly after he won a story writing challenge, he’s such a nerd. Then again, he had to drive me home a couple of times after I failed multiple driving tests.

Back in high school, James was the Chess Club Champion, a title he always shoved down my throat. It’s no secret why, though. He’s really good at thinking things through, While I on the other hand tend to dive headfirst into the abyss.

“Shut it James” I sarcastically retort, taking a sip of the expensive chocolate milk which my scholarship supposedly pays for

Hey, can I sit here?

I talked to her during class. Her voice is angelic: Now, I’m not one to be religious and all, but that voice could get me on my knees praying for forgiveness. My ego couldn’t get me anywhere at all, as if she already knew my tactics, she knew my flirts, and how? I guess it just adds to her mystery.

“C'mon! that one works every time!” I whine

“Don't be so full of yourself Jefferson, I’ve heard them all before” A smile danced across her face

She did, however, laugh at some of my remarks. It's good to know that she has a sense of humor. My jokes of Professor Washington’s shiny, bald head. The jokes of Professor Washington’s assistant, John Adams, who’s suspiciously absent considering he signed up for this job.

Heck, I would even make fun of myself if it meant I got to hear that graceful laugh one more time- actually, that might be a little too far.

Many days of giggling in class came after that day. I can see her starting to open up to my friends and I, like she’s spreading her wings and showing us the greatness that lies behind the social wall that she put up years ago. Even when we got in trouble for a little too much giggling in the back of the class, I sacrificed my own pride so she didn’t have to. Yes, I, Thee Thomas Jefferson, did that.

---

Even though I could see the social wall she put up, I knew one day Y/n would fall for my charming pick up lines, or maybe I just happened to have a lucky day:

“Y/N I need some a some help with my math homework”

Y/N glances over to me in concern. I fake a scared expression.

“Quick!” I swiftly grab her shoulder and shake her “What’s your phone number?”

She playfully smacks my arm

---

Obtaining her number felt like a rite of passage, like I’m important to her, like she wants me in her life. I couldn’t stop smiling that day, and of course James just had to make a comment on it.

“Thomas, if you keep smiling like that I’m going to start thinking that your sick or something”

James said as he shut my laptop, tired of waiting for me to pack my things.

“Now that's REAL ironic coming from you, James”

I raised an eyebrow as my laugh begins to come up my throat. I take my closed laptop and shove it somewhere into my backpack.

“Okay, leaving for a month in sophomore year just because of a little fever doesn’t make ‘being sick’ as part of my trade mark”

James playfully smacked the back of my head. Thankfully, my curls serve as protection, not just to make me sinfully handsome. James and I walk out of the freezing lecture hall and were hit with the crisp-coldness of New York.

To the right of me I catch a glimpse of that eye catching burgundy-magenta backpack as it’s thrown into the trunk of a shiny, expensive car. My feet keep its motion as my head turns to see Y/N standing at the door of the car.

“Yo, is that Y/N?” I hear James whisper behind me “and who’s that?”

My attention is suddenly drawn to the tall man walking around the car to open her door. His curly hair is pulled into a small bun and the smile he had on his face broke apart the stubble on his jaw. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

“I’m just as clueless as you are”

Keeping my glance on Y/N and the man, I watch as the man opens the door for her. My stomach turns as I watch Y/N smile back at him as she sits in the car.

For a split second, I swear I saw her shoot a soft glance at me. My feet almost stop in their tracks before I feel James’ hand yank me onto another pathway.

“I’m all for you being head over heels, but we’re gonna be late to our study session with Angie”

Reality starts to set back into my head.

“Right, lets dip.”

---

“So little Tommy is Infatuated with this woman?”

Angie’s eyes are piercing, and her luscious hair frames her face in a saintly manner. She slips off her baby pink coat to ease into her library seat. Her eyebrow raises as she takes a sip of her steaming coffee

Of course James wouldn’t shut his mouth, especially around the notorious Angelica Schuyler.

Angie’s pretty popular here, I find myself wondering why she has so many connections, yet it’s not just any reason(s) why she seems to be in the spotlight.

1: She’s the oldest Schuyler. Her last name definitely got her places, not like I’m one to talk. Everyone seems to know her, not just at school, but all around New York City, and with her 5,000 Instagram followers, her first name’s starting to catch up with her last name in popularity

2: Angie’s Daddy has money money. And that’s no secret when she decides to walk around campus with her designer handbags and shoes. I tend to think she always gets what she wants, but I know deep down, she’s never gonna be satisfied. Maybe it’s just a side effect of growing up with a silver spoon in your mouth

And finally,

3: Miss Schuyler here is Bold. She’s never afraid to put both me and James in our place. It’s almost as if she can’t be touched by anyone’s thoughts of her, then again the gossip in NYC is terribly insidious. With such grace and respect, Angelica is not afraid to throw your opinion into the ground.

“Yeah I swear, Jefferson would’ve gotten run over if I didn’t pull him onto the pathway” James attempted to tone down his laugh so the librarian wouldn’t stab him with those old, sharp eyes

“She-...”

For the first time, I didn’t know how to recoil

“..Just caught me off guard.”. In an attempt to change the topic, I flipped through the pages of his textbook.

Angelica and James shared an astonished glance at Thomas before looking at each other. I could hear James shrug and flipping open his textbook. I lift my head as I hear Angelica dig through her bag

“Alright let’s get started” Angie claps her hands together with determination

—-

It’s been 2 hours of studying in the ghostly library. Unfortunately, I can’t avoid the talk forever.

“Hey Thomas, why don’t you invite her to our next study session?”

Angelica smirked as she rudely shut my laptop. I desperately imagine the day where both James and Angelica leave me alone. I angrily glare up at her, but she has a good idea

“Actually, that’s not to bad of an idea” I ponder for a moment before retrieving my phone from my pocket

Thomas: Hey Y/N, u free this week?

Hmm. Is this okay? Nah it’s too straight forward. I sigh as I deleted and retyped the message

Thomas: Greetings Ms. L/N, this is Mr. Jefferson from class. Would you delight me by partaking in a study session?

What the heck Jefferson? I began to get frustrated from this nonsense. It’s just a text, why am I getting so anal over it?

Thomas: Hey Y/N, ds@insdas/19z7dnesdc-

Angelica, who was watching me the entire time, snatched the phone from my hands. I attempted to protest, yet Angelica Schuyler knows how to hold her ground.

“Angie wh-”

“I’ll do you a favor, Jefferson.” She said sternly. There was no way I was getting that phone back, heck, I would be lucky if I got it back in one piece

“Aaaaand sent!” I heard her squeal

Angelica suddenly tossed the phone to me and I fumbled it between my hands before I held it stably. I check to see the text that Angelica sent from my phone

Thomas: Hey this is Thomas from class, wanna come study with us at the library sometime?

Oh. It was that easy.

“Thanks Angie”

I shove my phone back in my pocket. Part of me was excited to have an excuse to text Y/N, yet I do wonder how awkward it would be if she rejected the offer. I mean, she already has the perfect grades, why would she need the extra help?

I start to rethink my decision.

—-

It wasn’t until 11 pm at night until I got a reply from Y/N. Beforehand, I arrived at my apartment around 8 pm. As soon as my door shut, the room was filled with growls indicating my current problem: hunger. That could only be solved with one solution: microwavable mac and cheese.

My phone dinged while I was laying motionless on my bed. My apartment was right next to the street, and all I could hear was the busy streets of New York City.

My eyes opened as I turned to my charging phone.

Y/N: yeah I’m down :) just send a time and place and I’ll be on my way

I was filled with joy, so much that I couldn’t wait another second to reply.

Thomas: Alright, we meet at the library after our class. Can you make it?

Seeing the three dots jump melodically made my stomach feel as if two fairies were dancing throughout my body. Any second now, any second. ding!

Y/N: sounds good!

I guess it’s settled, I get to hang out with the puzzling Y/N L/N, and maybe I’ll get to learn a bit more about her. But just because it’s a study session doesn’t mean I can’t show her what a southern gentleman looks like, and for the first time, I’m so excited to study

---

James, Y/N, and I walk out of professor Washington’s class, laughing our asses off over some stupid joke. Everyone around us appears to be annoyed, especially with having to sit through almost two hours of my friends and I laughing in the back of the class, but it’s not like I care.

Once we’re hit by the bitter cold of New York, my eyes are immediately drawn to that expensive car. So familiar and so faint in head, the memory of Y/N smiling as she hopped into his car replays in my brain.

“I’ll be back guys”

Y/N excuses herself from the group before lightly jogging to the car. Her hair was graceful in the wind, and her burgundy-magenta backpack didn’t seem to weigh her down at all. For a split second, my brain acknowledges that mysterious man in the driver’s seat. There was a moment of awkward eye contact with him, his cold eyes pierced through me before my attention was drawn back to Y/N. She fixes her hair and jacket.

That was cute.

What?

James and I watch Y/N before turning to each other. I suggest to James that we wait for her, show a little southern hospitality. Even though Y/N seems to be fond of this man, he gives off a mysterious vibe similar to Y/N’s, but I do not want to unravel that mystery at all.

Seeing him throw a smirk at Y/N causes discomfort in my stomach.

Y/N comes prancing back to us, an embarrassed smile on her face. Behind her, that shiny, expensive car begins to drive away.

“My bad, I forgot to tell my roommate that I would be out late”

“That’s your roommate?” James asks, attempting to hide his curiosity and shock

“and he takes you home after class?” I interrupt briefly

Y/N nervously laughs before nodding “something like that, he just..”

�� That pause was a little too long

“..doesn’t like me out of the house too late so he volunteers to drive me home all the time”

I shrug it off before jumping at the feeling of James’ warm hands pulling Y/N and I to the direction of the library. Y/N and I look at him with confusion

“What? Angie doesn’t like when we’re late, remember?” James says, practically dragging us to the Library

—-

“Nice to meet you”

Angelica and Y/N got along pretty well. I can tell Angie was happy to finally have a girl to hangout with rather than having to deal with me and James only. She’s already starting to resemble a sisterly figure to Y/N, then again, growing up with two sisters must’ve prepared Angie for this moment.

I don’t hear much about the other Schuylers, but I am familiar with them. Angelica is the oldest, as we know. Her first sister, Eliza Sch- I’m pretty sure she got married, is the nicest person you’ll meet. Whoever won her surely must be worthy, because we all know people like me wouldn’t get anywhere near Eliza thanks to her older sister. Her youngest sister, Margarita Peggy Schuyler, is just like Angelica.

Stubborn. As. Fuck.

I’m confident that Angelica has taught her that philosophy since she was born. Anyway, Peggy is currently living her dreams in Southern California. Not sure what she does, but I’m sure she’s financially stable, she is a Schuyler after all.

All of us struggle to not annoy the librarian, let alone the entire library. I watch as Y/N opens up, just a little more, to Angelica, James, and I.

Hours pass as we clown around in the library. From actually completing class work to a small drawing competition between James and I, I was certainly having a good time, and so was everyone else.

It was pleasing to see Y/N more laid back rather than how she acts in class. In front of Professor Washington she’s so ‘put together’ and organized, but surrounded by her friends she’s such an amazing person, her range in professionalism and humor is astounding.

I can’t seem to ignore the fact that Angelica notices the way I look at Y/N. It’s definitely not in my strong suit to be ‘low key’, I’m known for dramatic entrances and stealing the spotlight. She smiles when I make eye contact with her, and I’m pretty sure it’s just her way of annoying me, but I can’t help the way I look at Y/N. She really is an angel sent down from heaven, disguised as a college student, and I’m just lucky enough to be her friend.

I’m blind to her flaws. When I see her, I feel like a tourist glancing at the Mona Lisa, memorizing every curve of her face, the way her hair falls around her shoulders, and the way the library lighting reflects off of her glowing skin.

What felt like a sledgehammer breaking a slab of fragile glass, I see Y/N’s phone light up. Even across the table I can read the word “Lafayette” off of her phone. I can’t lie, it surely sounds familiar.

When she finally noticed her phone flash on, I feel her ease turn into worry, and it definitely didn’t go unnoticed by James, Angie, and I. She starts to pack away her books

“My bad guys, I really gotta go”

Y/N said notably panicking. Her phone flashes once again, yet the only thing that seems to catch my eyes is the bold “7:30” spread across the top of her phone.

“Are you okay by yourself?” I asked, trying my best not to pry into her business

“Yeah, my roommates here to pick me up, I don’t want to make him wait” she tried to play it off, but I’m learning to see right through her

“Alright, see you next time Y/N” I shrug it off

She sends my friends and I a quick smile before replying

“for sure”

Angelica and James got back to work without saying a word, and I could tell they were waiting until she was gone to start teasing me. I eased back into my chair before flipping the pages of my notebook

I watched as she shoved open the library door and disappeared into the darkness. She’s such a mystery, when I feel like she’s opening up, she just shuts the door and we’re back at square one. Though I do claim to love a good challenge, Y/N L/N, I will never understand you.

—-

And that’s when it started. It wasn’t just one time where 7:30 was Y/N magic number, oh no, it was oddly consistent. I’m convinced that Y/N is some variation of Cinderella; her polite attitude and the beautiful little things she does without acknowledging it all vanish when the clock strikes 8:00, but that’s just one of many theories made by James.

Another study session with James and Angelica, and Y/N’s flashing screen still compelled Y/N to leave the library without a trace. On some occasions we don’t even notice her escape, we just turn to see her seat empty and feel the faint wind from outside as the library door slowly closes.

One day Angie bought us all tickets to see the preview to the newest, scariest movie I’ve ever watched. I was accompanied by Y/N, James, and Angie, yet their presences made it worse. Halfway through the bucket of popcorn and the movie, Y/N suddenly stood up and left after saying those 5 words. Before she left, I felt the warmth of her hands leave the place on my arm.

I never knew how addicting her warmth would be until it was already gone.

“Sorry guys, I gotta go” The weak smile on her face instantly resonated feelings of sympathy and understanding.

From then on, Y/N and I grew closer as friends. We’d fool around at a local park before heading to campus, obviously sparking a few observations and remarks from James. I’d invite her to fancy dinners, or maybe even a small festival down the road from my apartment, yet her response would always be proven false at the moment she’d leave me and my thoughts at 7:30.

But that hasn’t stopped me from attempting to hang out with her. Even on the days I wouldn’t have class with her we’d go out and get ice cream, study at the park, I guess you can say we’ve gone on a few ‘dates’ since our initial study session.

Whenever we’re apart, I can feel every second expanding to its maximum capacity of time. I wouldn’t see her for a day and it will already feel like years since I’ve seen her. The days I do see her, time seems to maneuver a little too fast. When I recall hanging out with Y/N, all I can imagine is the feeling of floating above the clouds every time she and I made physical contact. Like a rock being dropped into still water, ever touch ripples throughout my body, sending shivers down my spine.

Truly incredible.

—-

She doesn’t like to talk about her personal life, and I find that quite odd. I’m usually one to continue rambling every detail of every trait of mine, yet I find myself yearning to learn more about her.

We text every now and then when we’re outside of class, a little more to be considered ‘just friends’. There’s always a story which unravels just a little more of Y/N’s past, and she’s left me on my own to connect the dots. I must say, she’s definitely an interesting gal, but I know there’s more to discover.

She’s a native New Yorker, born and raised, surviving by splitting an intense rent with her mysterious room mate. Y/N doesn’t talk much of her family, other than faint memories of her mother single handedly raising her and her little brother, who I’m fairly unaware of.

Going into college undecided, Y/N describes her want to learn more about herself before she’s able to make any life determining choices. I’ve noticed that her schedule seems like a labyrinth avoiding life problems and obstacles, so perhaps being placed in the same class coincidentally was just fate playing its part.

Y/N loves to explain her dream for workless weekends, moments in the week where she just gets to sit back, close her eyes, and breathe a little. With finals starting to appear from thin air, I can’t blame her for a dream so far from reality.

Even with the knowledge I hold of her, something never seems to change: her disappearances at 7:30.

It’s always that damn 7:30.

7:30--the cliffhanger your favorite show leaves you desiring for more

the end of a fun night of laughter and glee, wishing it lasted just a little longer

the off-set energy in a room when those around you know something you don’t.

As days, weeks, and months pass since my first text proposal to hang out at the library, Y/N and I become a little closer than just friends. It’s been obvious, especially to James and Angie, that Y/N is more than capable of holding my attention.

Though James is worried that Y/N will just become ‘another girl’ to me, concerning my tomcat nature in the past, he can see the potential I see in her. I find myself wishing I did spend more time with her, maybe I just need to make a better effort.

I’ll prove James and Angie wrong.

Filled with determination and confidence, in the midst of my silent room, I whip out my phone and direct my attention towards forming a text message for Y/N

Thomas: let’s get coffee sometime?

Jefferson charm, don’t fail me now.

---

Before I knew it, Y/N and I were feasting on exotic cheeses and aged wine in my New York apartment. I hit play on a random romcom which helps to fill the emptiness in my apartment and ironically the thin space between Y/N and I.

I have no idea how to make my move. Though I’m not aware of my competition, I imagine if Y/N could attract someone of My caliber, I should be well aware of the things she’s capable of. Originally I planned to court her-- I know, I know, I’m a man of tradition--yet after James caught on to my recognizable frustration, He suggested I go for it.

This is surprising on multiple occasions, especially since James possesses the ‘brains’ between the both of us. Being the chess club champion, ‘talk’ won’t aid you when you're struggling in a chess match. Just like how he meticulously plays chess, he examines my situation and provides his Virginian insight, or so he prefers to call it, and they always proceed the way his scheme describes.

I’ve adhered his advice to my life ever since we were kids, and when I didn’t, he’d simply reply with:

“I told you so”

His smug smirk accompanied with a finger pointing to his temple would soon transform from clever to annoying.

I feel a vibration come from my pocket. Well, of course it’s not Y/N texting so must I really answer it? I pull out my phone despite my doubts and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

James: 👍

Speak of the Devil.

But enough about James. I understand that both Y/N and I are mature college students, yet I still fear the disruption in our friendship I can provoke just by making my move. I’ve gotten this far; If she wasn’t interesting I’m sure she would’ve rejected me sooner.

She’s different, she’s unique, something about her that I just can’t place, but also something missing. Anyway, this is probably my best chance at shooting my shot at Y/N, and it’s too late now to back down.

As my lips part in an attempt to speak and make a move, Y/N’s motionless phone (currently laying undisturbed on my coffee table) suddenly brightens with the most obnoxious ringtone I’ve ever heard. The words “It’s 7:30!” flash on her screen, almost as if it was warning her rather than reminding her.

“Y/N—” my eyes follow her body as she swiftly stands up

“I gotta g—” I watch as she attempts to grab her purse, yet her body is limited when I firmly grab her arm. She looks back to me with tiredness in her eyes.

Part of me thought maybe, just maybe, Cinderella here wouldn’t have a curfew. That I somehow would be the exemption to this consistent confusion . But you can only daydream so far into the day until you’re pulled back into your reality

Her entire demeanor seems like it was reconstructed after her alarm went off. Moments ago she was just enjoying tasty cheese and cheesy movies, and the worst part is, I have no idea why.

“Let me speak, darlin’”

I stand up to avoid the way her eyes look down on me. I can’t stand that pitiful glare; she looks at me as if I’m a child incapable of understanding her situation, but she’s too stubborn to let me know. I’d be wise to use this time to make a move on different circumstances.

“Now, you’re always leaving at seven thirty..”

Her sigh is almost enough to interrupt me

“..why’s that? Talk to me.”

I maintain my eye contact before it’s abruptly broken. She looks everywhere but my eyes, and I wonder where in my apartment she would find an excuse, yet still manages to dodge the question.

“..you wouldn’t understand..” she scoffs almost intentionally, honestly scratching a part of my ego. I hate to admit she’s right, I really don’t understand what’s going on.

I cock my head to the side. Where’s this coming from?

“Darlin’, I’m sure I’m a very understanding person—”

“—I need to leave”

I could tell by the look of her face that she wasn’t trying to argue, but it’s inevitable.

“Why can’t you just tell me?..” I put my hands up as a sign of defeat, but I’m not giving up yet. “We’ve been friends for a while and you’re always leavin’ at seven—”

“I know! I know..” she removes my hand from her arm, clearly refusing to look up at me.

“Let’s just say..I got a job..?”

Oh. That’s what this is all about? A job? She couldn’t spare at least an explanation for a part time gig?

“See? That wasn’t so hard”

“It’s..really embarrassing..” The glance she takes around the room makes me wonder if she’s really telling the truth. it’s not really my place to speculate, there’s no going back from this.

“It’s alright, it’s just a job after all” I claim, trying to get this conversation back on track

“This is exactly what I meant but ‘you wouldn’t understand’”

Huh?

“You don’t know what it feels like to have your life rely on minimum wage—” she sounds like she’s holding something back.

“Y/N wher—”

“A-and here you are makin’ me late for work” her eyes appear on the verge of crying.

“darlin’ look..”

“God, you’ve never had to work for anything in your life!”

Silence.

Both of us refuse to speak. Y/N phone, still on the table, chimes again. “7:35” it said on its bright screen.

“Is that really how you feel?..” I take a step back to give her space. She still refuses to look at me.

There’s no way she’d cause all this chaos just because of a job. And even if she believes I’ve piggy backed off of my name for my entire life, why would it matter to her?

“I..I should leave” before I could process what just happened, she swiftly tosses her phone into her bag and heads for the door.

“Y’know, I had a nice time..” was all I heard before the harsh shutting of my apartment door.

And that was the end of it.

My first thought after the door shut wasn’t to whip out my phone and attempt to text her, it certainly wasn’t to call James and inform him of his miscalculation, but instead to attend to the matter at hand. This cheese and wine won’t clean itself.

And the night continued normally, as if nothing had ever taken place. I couldn’t help but microwave another cup of Mac and cheese to cope with what Y/N said. Nothin’ like a good meal to divert your attention away from your problems. But even a good cup of cheese and pasta can’t stop me from thinking’:

Is that all I am to her?

A southern snob incapable of functioning without their father’s last name?

After an introspective shower, and a few episodes of a random Netflix show, I’m finally alone with my thoughts and feelings. I lie in darkness, tussling and turning at every occasion, unable to extract her words from my mind.

If there’s someone whose opinion I care about the most, it’s Y/N L/N. I consider texting her at this very moment, yet I’m sure that I’m the last person she wants to talk to. The weight of my actions falls heavily onto my shoulders every minute, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Give her space, Jefferson, and maybe you’ll be able to fix this tragedy.

---

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The knocks on my apartment door were enough to jerk my body back to consciousness. Sadly pulled from the warmth of my dreams, I’m hit with the cold, noisy reality of an average night here in New York.

Can my day get any worse?

Coming straight from the depths of slumber, I take a few minutes to process reality. Maybe the knocks were in my head. Did I dream about someone knocking on my door? Perhaps it’s

The sun’s still not up yet, why am I?

Groggily sitting up, I decide to check the time, yet it takes me multiple attempts to grab my phone in the dark before I catch a sight of the time.

2 am?!

Who is so out of their minds so show up to my apartment at this time? Who do I know that would show up at this time?

James is too sensible for that,

Angie would never waste her time on me, for whatever reason,

And Y/N—

well.

I don’t know our circumstances right now.

I debate whether or not I should answer the door. Perhaps it’s just rock that happened to hit the door of my apartment, and even if it is a person, I’m not aware of anyone so mad to show up in the middle of the night. it’s not worth my time.

...

Knock! Knock! Knock!

So much for ‘Not worth my time’. A groan is all my body can respond with while I gradually stand from the comfort of my bed. I grab the nearest shirt, which was draped over my desk chair, and scramble to put it on. Passing my cramped kitchen, my hands subconsciously flip on the nearest light switches, while my eyes struggle to comprehend the sudden light.

Before I reach the door, I couldn’t help but attempt to fix my hair. Just because someone happens to show up outside unannounced doesn’t mean I can’t present my best rendition of a southern gentleman.

And finally, through my fatigue and irritation, I’m finally urged to grab the doorknob and twist it open in one motion.

“Uh, it’s two a.m. so I hope--”

I nervously scratch the back of my head, attempting to add spice to this awkward encounter. It wasn’t until my eyes caught sight of the blood dripping down her glass skin and the meeting of our eyes did I have any words

“Y/N?!?”

Her cold, pale, and hurt body would’ve hit the concrete floor if I had answered the door any later.

---

And there she layed half colorless on my bed. Her smile was full of embarrassment and gratitude as I sat beside her, tending to the evident cuts and Injured areas of her body. “I hope I’m being a great house guest” she joked, causing her to laugh, yet hurting herself in the process.

“Hey, Hey, Take it easy..” Y/N’s presence usually fills me with carefreeness, or perhaps stability, but for the first time I can’t help but react seriously. Her demeanor changed as she saw my retaliation to her joke.

“I guess…” she looked down to her fragile body, a sigh released, seeming to be an attempt to calm down. “...I owe you an explanation for earlier. And especially for showing up at your place at 2 in the damn morning. ”

Thomas’ hands, full of wipes and hydrogen peroxide soaked cotton balls, froze in their tracks before he looked up at her, eager to listen and visibly confused. Y/N visibly winced as the cotton balls stuck to her cuts for longer than they should’ve, yet with Thomas’ reflexes at their all-time-max, he pulled them away with a worried expression.

“Explanation? You said you got a job, and I’m sorry for not respecting it..” I continued to clean her up, consensually of course, how could I call myself a gentleman if I were to act upon improper motives?

“Again..” I utter quietly “..I didn’t know you felt that way, and I’m ashamed you feel that way”

I attach an ivory-colored band aid to her glass skin, careful not to damage it any further. I look up to her watching, pitiful eyes. “You were saying?” I reciprocate the attention to her, awaiting a so-called answer to come out of her mouth

“I didn’t know where else to run to..” she attempted to sit up, lifting her weight off of my satin-covered sheets, yet quickly stopped when being hit with a wave of pain from her right shoulder

Though my first thought would’ve been ‘Damn it, my darn sheets are ruined’, it was quickly drawn to Y/N and her current problem

“Y’know, I think an apology and explanation can wait, Y/N. you need a little sleep, it’s already three in the mornin’ for god’s sake” a small laugh erupts from her

I sent her an assuring smile, trying to remind her that everything is always going to be okay in a Jefferson household. And surprisingly I received a smile in return, a smile of trust and security that I’ve never felt so glad to see. Of course, I wish I could’ve seen that smile under different circumstances, but I’ll work with what I got.

I stood from my beautiful satin sheets and reached for a hoodie on my swivel chair. (everything but your closet is a closet, change my mind) I braced for a cold night on my apartment couch while Y/N enjoys the warmth of my bed, but Y/N had other plans.

“Wait- Thomas.” She said firmly

I turned tiredly to her direction, my arm already extended for the door, yet frozen in place as I awaited a response

“Can you just..” she scoot herself over, as much as possible with her frail body “..hold me?” She watches me anxiously

“I mean— you don’t have to b—” I didn’t hesitate at all to gently slide under the sheets of the bed. As soon as I turn to her direction, I can’t help but feel scared to touch her in fear of hurting her; my hands don’t know where to reside. “Where do I..” I’m truly perplexed

She giggled at my confusion and shyly grabbed my hand “I’m not so fragile you know”

She brought my hand up to the side of her head, and all I could process was the texture of the bandages under my fingertips. I don’t know what's going on, but I couldn’t just leave her out there.

“..Right..” I wait for her eyes to close before I can even think about closing mine, and soon the texture of the bandages seem to melt onto my fingertips as I’m finally able to return to my slumber.

“See you in the mornin’..”

---

I didn’t wake up until I felt the sun rays kissing my back through my so-called ‘blackout curtains’. Such a scam. The room seemed a little too quiet; I gently turned onto my other side just to find an empty bed. I consider the possibility of last night’s encounter with Y/N was all just some messed up dream, but when I saw the faint stains of blood on my sheets, I knew I was far from dreaming.

My body doesn’t want to move, and I’m stuck sitting up in my bed for another ten minutes. What the heck is going on? One minute she yells at me, then next thing I know she’s outside my apartment at 2 am.

And that explanation.

I guess I was such a fool to think she wouldn’t continue to run away from this matter. My thoughts are interrupted by my buzzing phone. I know for sure that it’s not Y/N hittin up my phone right about now.

James: Let’s try that new coffee place a few blocks from your apartment?

He really read my mind, or maybe it’s a response made from calculating my failure yesterday. But a distraction sounds tremendous.

Thomas: bet.

I throw on a cleaner, more professional jacket, if such a thing exists, and swiftly get my feet out the door. Everything seems the same, as if nothing had taken place last night. The world still spins and I’m expected to spin with it.

I don’t think I’m anywhere near capable of unraveling your mystery.

Y/N L/N, I will never understand you.

#thomas jefferson fanfic #thomas jefferson #Daveed Diggs #daveed x reader #thomas x reader #alexander hamilton #hamilton fanfic #hamiltonau #Angelica Schuyler #james madison #marquis de Lafayette #lafayette x reader #lafayette #george washington #washington #John Laurens #hercules mulligan #thomas jefferson x reader

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wellsjahasghost · 5 years ago

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the monster in my head

A/N: VILLAIN BELLAMY, TASTY. sooo this bellarke ficlet was born because i thought, what if bellamy went all void stiles on us in the final season after being captured?? like obviously, not gonna happen but it’s such a juicy concept.

disclaimer: my knowledge of season 5-7 is so sparse it is laughable. i just wanted to write a mind-wiped!bellamy drabble basically, so please excuse my lack of detail in literally every other aspect of this. also all the typos, i wrote this really fast lol.

Clarke wakes up tied to a chair and her first thought is, I can’t believe he tricked me.

Except he’d gotten her guard down. One second she’d been walking away from the others, looking for something to eat on this godforsaken planet they’d landed on, and the next-- he’d appeared.

Right in front of her. The sight of him disarmed her so much, she’d only been halfway through saying his name when he hit her, and she’d been knocked out.

Now here he is again.

Bellamy, sitting in a chair opposite to her-- but he’s not the Bellamy she knows.

Except he is, she realizes with a start. He’s the Bellamy of before Praimfaya, his hair curly and unruly over his forehead, his jaw clean-shaven. His familiar, handsome face would settle her if it weren’t for the cold look in his eye.

“Bellamy?” she says slowly, drowsily. Am I talking to Bellamy?

“Clarke,” he says pleasantly, and she realizing he’s twiddling a pocket knife in his fingers. Even the way he says her name is cold, and she didn’t realize how warmly he used to say it until just right now.

The way he tilts his head to consider her is entirely foreign. Not in the way of people who were controlled by ALIE, where their movements were robotic, un-humanlike. No, this comes entirely from him, just... a different version of him. He’s wearing different clothes, too. All black. Black jacket too. His clothes and his skin and his hair are all clean, and pristine, like he’s been well cared for while he was gone.

Clarke, at this point, has grown used to the impossible happening. She just accepts in this moment that this Bellamy is not her Bellamy, and focuses on other things, like getting out of here and living another day to find out what happened to him.

They’re in a tiny, one-room cabin. Tools all over the place. Her hands are tied behind her. She stretches her wrists experimentally. No slack at all.

“What are you doing?” she asks Bellamy, who’s just been watching her take in her surroundings.

“We’ve been looking for you,” he says, still fiddling with his knife.

“Who’s been looking for me?” No answer. “Bellamy, what-- what’s going on? I haven’t seen you in--”

“Don’t you ever get tired of talking?” Bellamy says, bored. He tilts his head suddenly and stands. “Time to go. They’re waiting for us.”

“What do you mean it’s time to--” she cuts herself off as he strides towards her. She stays entirely still as he pulls the gun from his thigh holster and presses it to her temple.

“You try anything, and we see what your brain looks like decorating the wall.”

His voice is casual. Her heart beats faster.

“That’s a lie,” she guesses. “You’re bringing me to someone, and they want me alive. They wouldn’t be happy if you killed me.”

He laughs, lowly. "You willing to bet your life on that?”

He leans over her and cuts her free from the chair.

“Walk to the door,” he says against her ear, and she obediently stands.

“Do you remember me?” she asks, as he nudges her forward with the gun to her temple. He’s still got that knife in his other hand. It would be perfect to cut through the ropes around her wrists. “Do you know who I am?”

“I know who you are, Clarke. I just don’t care.” He presses the gun against her temple harder.

“Someone’s controlling you,” she guesses. From his silence, she guesses she’s right. “Are you still Bellamy?”

“That’s right.”

“Bellamy would never do this. He wouldn’t threaten to blow my brains out.”

“Well, I just did,” Bellamy replies. “So I guess you don’t know me very well.”

They keep walking forward. Towards the open door, revealing a grassy clearing beyond. “That’s okay,” Clarke replies. “I know it’s not you I’m talking to right now. I forgive you, Bellamy. If you need forgiveness, I’ll give that to you.”

He falters. That’s when Clarke makes her move.

She ducks from under his gun. He fires-- he fires!-- into the empty space where her head was. She tackles him around the middle, making them both tumble into the ground.

Bellamy’s caught off guard-- his movements slow, clumsy for a second, and she presses her advantage. She’s on top of him. He’s still got a tight grip on his knife, and she wraps her wrists around it, tearing through the rope binding her hands together with one strong pull.

He seems to wake up from whatever confusion he was in when she scrambles off him, his knife in her hand. She’s only made it two steps before he grabs her ankle and tries to yank her down again. Before she can fall, she grabs onto the chair he’d been sitting on for leverage. It crashes down with them.

Bellamy tries to pull her towards him. She grabs the chair leg and swings it over-- the chair is surprisingly light--bashing whatever part of his body she can reach behind him.

He grunts and releases her. She staggers up and sprints out of the cabin.

She’s in the middle of a clearing, in a forest she doesn’t recognize, with a sky up above that she doesn’t recognize either. She has no fucking clue where she is.

Right down to what planet she is on.

“Not so fast, Clarke...”

His voice is a sing-song from behind her. She whips her head around, and there he is, wiping blood from his face, but not looking angry at all. He’s walking towards her leisurely, and tucking the gun back into his thigh holster. He actually looks on the verge of a smile. Like he’s enjoying this.

“What now, princess? Where you gonna go?” he says softly, and the words are familiar and horrible in their new context. A chill races up her spine. She turns back around and sprints into the forest.

She’s running blindly for a few seconds, completely terrified out of her mind. She trips over a root, and then she’s tumbling down a steep bank, sand spraying around her as she falls. Pain explodes through her shoulder, and then the back of her head, and her back, and she just keeps falling and falling, and she doesn’t know which way is up or down, just that everything hurts.

She finally gets to the bottom of the hill, rolling into freezing cold water. She’s fallen into a stream. It takes her several moments to gather herself, and in that time she distantly hears footsteps coming down the bank. No. No.

Gasping, she rolls off her back, onto her hands and knees. Looks up only to see a hand coming down at her.

Bellamy yanks at her hair. Hard. She cries out, and he kneels beside her, prying the knife from her hands and tossing it far down the stream.

“You tried to shoot me in the head,” she gasps, unable to grasp that concept. It just makes no sense. The people he’s bringing her to must want her alive. “The people in control of you-- they wouldn’t have wanted me dead-- so why--”

He dunks her head underwater. She fights, struggles against him, throws her elbows, but he’s firm. He pulls her out after just a second. She’s gasping for air, wet hair stuck to her cheeks, the cold drenching her shirt and making her shiver. He leans in close, his nose brushing against the shell of her ear.

“The thing the people in control of me don’t know,” he says softly, “is that they don’t have very good control of me at all.”

She turns her head to stare at him, the dark eyes she can see her own terrified reflection in, his freckled cheekbones she knows so well, the curls hanging over his eyes. If it weren’t for the things he was doing, the things he was saying, she would say he looks in this moment exactly like the Bellamy who stood beside her and ordered her to write her name down on a list.

Except right now there is a monster lurking under his skin, and she’s starting to think the people who unleashed it didn’t know what they were doing.

“What did they do to you, Bellamy?” she asks, her voice tender, and his grip on her hair loosens slightly. “What did they do to make you like this?”

But then he gets a better grip, and dunks her back in the water again.

He keeps her there for so long her lungs scream for air. She makes herself go limp, but right when she does, he pulls her out again, and easily blocks her attempts to hit him. Backhands her instead, stunning her with pain.

He knows her game. He knows her too damn well for playing dead to work.

Clarke gulps breath into her lungs. She can’t understand what happened to him to make him like this. She only knows it must have been horrible, worse than Mount Weather, worse than anything she could imagine. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop them from hurting you,” she says, again as soft as butter, and his eyes narrow. He dunks her back in.

When he pulls her back out, she manages to gasp, “I will kill the people who did this to you,” and he dunks her back in again. This time he holds her under for so long she actually blacks out for a second.

She comes to a moment later, leaning against his shoulder. He’s looking down at her with a storm in his eyes. She gazes up at him. He seems to be waiting for her to say something.

She says, “I’m going to do everything I can to bring you back--”

“Stop,” he says, and his voice sounds pained. “Just shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”

He lets go of her, and his hands sink into his own hair, his expression hard and enraged and emotions flickering over his face a mile a minute. Clarke manages to clamber back on her hands and knees, shakily. She reaches to touch him.

“Don’t touch me,” he snaps, shoving her away, and she lets him, but then she puts her hands back on his face, gently. She traces her fingers over his jaw, brushes her thumb against the corner of his lip.

She’s sure she doesn’t imagine when he leans into it.

Suddenly Bellamy laughs, and the sound is bitter and disbelieving.

“I am trying to kill you,” he informs her. His voice is hoarse, as if he’s the one who’s been held underwater.

She smiles, gently again. “I know.”

Because she gets it, suddenly. His motivation to end her life is not because he actually wants her dead. The monster inside him is trying to kill whatever’s left of Bellamy, by killing her.

But he still can’t do it, and that’s how she knows there’s hope. That’s how she knows Bellamy is somewhere in there, fighting, maybe even at this very moment.

Bellamy reaches for her throat then, as if he might strangle her, but then it comes up and he brushes her wet hair out of her eyes, tucks the strand behind her ear. Like he can’t help himself. Then his hand tightens on the back of her neck again. His eyes harden, expression becoming blank. The monster has taken over completely again.

She leans in and kisses him.

He freezes. Her mouth is numb from the freezing water, but his is warm, and soft, and for half a second, he kisses her back.

She doesn’t know if she’s kissing the monster, or Bellamy, or the monstrous part of Bellamy. She doesn’t give herself time to find out.

She reaches behind her for the biggest rock she can get her hands on in the stream, then swings it at his temple.

The thunking sound is horrible. He topples over on his side. The splash his body makes as he falls over in the stream is small, nearly inaudible over the loud rush of water.

She staggers to her feet, gets her hands under his arms and drags him out of the water. She deposits him in the mud and stares down at him. His head lolls to the side. His eyes are closed, his expression open and innocent. He might be sleeping, if it weren’t for the gash on his head, half-obscured by dark curls, where she hit him with the rock. He’s bleeding. She’ll have to clean it.

She runs her hand over her mouth, still breathing raggedly.

Bellamy. Bellamy. Bellamy.

She hefts him up from under his arms again and starts to drag him back up the bank, her heels slipping in the wet ground. But she’s determined. They’re not far from that cabin. She’ll tie him up in the same chair he had her in.

And then? She has no clue. There’s only one thing she knows.

She pauses to catch her breath, and leans in close to his ear to make a vow to him, a vow she has always made to him ever since they landed on Earth.

“I am not giving up on you.”

#mine #bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #the 100 #my bellarke fic #drabble #reblogs/shares always v much appreciated!!#THIS IS SO MESSY IM SORRY FOR ALL THE TYPOS/HOW INCOHERENT THIS MAY BE #jade writes #greatest hits

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amy-issen · 4 years ago

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ok so here it is!! i spent the last week solely making and listening to this playlist like i was POSSESED because this ship is lovely and deserved a nice playlist! if anyone wants to know why i picked each song, i’m going to ramble about it extensively in the read more, so check that out if you want! hope you enjoy it! also thanks again to @birbwell for letting me use her art for the cover!

i divided this playlist in a few sections so let’s start with the first one (section one: first meeting/pining) i. in the rain - joe hisaishi i wanted to start with a short instrumental track to set the mood, and i looooove howl’s moving castle score, so i had to pick this one! the fact that it has rain in the title also helps to reference how their relationship began! ii. with every breath i take - frank sinatra “every breath that I take is a prayer that i’ll make you mine” my sister is a big sinatra/jazz fan (and also a yakuza fan) so she helped me with picking a few of the songs here! this one is very romantic, elegant and beautiful and i thought it fit the mood (and it’s what i think tachibana listens to in his free time lmao).

iii. gold rush - taylor swift “what must it be like to grow up that beautiful? with your hair falling into place like dominoes my mind turns your life into folklore i can't dare to dream about you anymore” this one is my FAVORITE song on this playlist, and one of the first i picked because this song just fits them like a glove. it’s basically pining 101, and i love that what taylor said this song is about “daydreaming about someone then snapping out of it.” i feel like the first part could be from tachibana’s perspective and the second one from kiryu’s (also giving a bit of a glimpse into the future, with the mention of a coastal town they’ll never find together) iv. first love/late spring - mitski “so please, hurry, leave me, i can't breathe please don't say you love me mune ga hachikire-sōde (my heart seems like it’s going to burst)” this one was another song i picked very early on because i love mitski, and i needed to include her here. i just wanted something to symbolize the trust that tachibana and kiryu have to share to work together, and the feelings that emerge from it, if that makes any sense. i don’t think this has a specific perspective, because i feel like this could work from both kiryu’s and tachibana’s (mostly kiryu though) v. real estate - adam melchor “every time I wonder how i'd carry on without you i'm runnin' out of real estate tryna make all the right moves i don't wanna hesitate i would bet the house on you “ do you UNDERSTAND how satisfying it was to find a song named real estate for them?? come ooon. ok that’s not all of my reasoning for it but it’s like. most of it, lmao another song i felt was about trust and feelings. (also a bit of a glimpse into the future, because i’m sad) vi. i get a kick out of you - ella fitzgerald “i get no kick from champagne mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all so tell me why should it be true that i get a kick out of you?” another one my sister recommended. i originally was gonna go with sinatra’s version of this, but i love this one and it just wouldn’t leave my brain. again, one from mostly tachibana’s perspective, get this man to sing this on karaoke night right now. vii. like real people do - hozier “i will not ask you where you came from i would not ask and neither would you honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips we could just kiss like real people do” this is one of my all time favorites from hozier and, again, it just fit perfectly. tachibana and kiryu have both lived some very... troubled lives so far, and while they’re depending on this trust they have in eachother, none of them really care to know about what they’ve done or who they are. this is mostly from kiryu’s perspective, specially with this metaphor of being rescued/dug up from the earth with the whole being found in the rain and saved by tachibana and his poor driving skills. viii. delicate - taylor swift “this ain't for the best my reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me... we can't make any promises now, can we, babe? but you can make me a drink” y’all are going to have to forgive me for picking TWO taylor swift songs but COME OOOON this is another one that i picked early on because i could draw so many parallels between the lyrics and things that they both said in that car scene on chapter 9 (mostly tachibana though) and i kept harassing my sister with screenshots to prove my point and i’m gonna do it again

ANYWAYS i’ve made my case, and now we enter the second section of the playlist at last ( section 2: actual romantic/fluffy songs because this is a ship playlist) i. good old-fashioned lover boy - queen “dining at the ritz we'll meet at nine (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 o'clock) precisely i will pay the bill, you taste the wine driving back in style in my saloon will do quite nicely just take me back to yours that will be fine” is this a bit of a cliché? yes. did i want to include it because it’s very cute and i’d like to imagine kiryu and tachibana having a nice date night with no people trying to kill them all the time? also yes. i love this song.

ii. stay with me/mayonaka no door - miki matsuraba “you in your gray jacket with that oh-so-familiar coffee stain just as you always are the two of us reflect in the window display stay with me knocking on midnight's door i beg you not to go home tonight” (translated lyrics) is anyone not obsessed with this song lately? this is the only song here i’m blaming tiktok for making me listen to it lol. in any way, this song is deceptive because it sounds really happy but is actually quite melancholic. i thought it fit their relationship well, and it seemed like a good addition to the playlist with it’s 80′s city pop vibes.

iii. on melancholy hill - gorillaz (covered by matt forbes) “just looking out on the day of another dream where you can't get what you want, but you can get me so let's set out to sea, love 'cause you are my medicine when you're close to me" this is a gorillaz song but i went with this cover because it fit the feeling of the playlist a little better. another song that i just love very deeply and i thought fit the sentiment of kiryu being like “hey i know we have Big problems and you’re very sad in the moment but i’m here for you” iv. (i love you) for sentimental reasons - nat king cole "i think of you every morning dream of you every night darling, i'm never lonely whenever you are in sight" surprisingly, not one that my sister recommended, but one i found for myself while looking for quiet romantic songs. i feel like this is tachibana's reply to kiryu being there for him and helping him. plus, idk i just wanted to imagine them slow dancing to this. v. positions - ariana grande (covered by travis atreo) "perfect, perfect you're too good to be true but I get tired of runnin', fuck it now, i’m runnin' with you" i picked this cover because i felt like using ariana's one would be a little goofy for this section lmao, but i really like this song and how it's about commitment and doing everything to make a relationship work. i just wanted to throw some sexy vibes before this playlist delved into depressing stuff. also if you telling me tachibana wouldn't absolute body a tiktok set to this song you're lying to yourself. (section 3: oh no this is getting sad) i. forever - labrinth "i'll live forever" i love everything labrinth makes, the euphoria soundtrack lives in my mind rent free and this is my favorite one. this barely has any lyrics so, again, mostly a track i picked for its intrumentals and feeling overall. mostly preparing you for the sad stuff ahead. ii. hong kong - gorillaz "you swallow me i'm a pill on your tongue here on the nineteenth floor the neon lights make me calm" this is my favorite gorillaz song, by FAR, and i think it's introspective vibe really fits tachibana's character. not really a song about relationship but i really wanted to include it because it's just such a GORGEOUS song. iii. fragments - severon another instrumental track! this one i stole from a playlist my sister made for a fic i wrote last year. again. sad vibes. iv. sign of the times - harry styles (covered by LANY) "remember everything will be alright we can meet again somewhere somewhere far away from here" i loved the synth-y vibe this cover had, while still keeping this song's sad "our lives are dangerous and i'm about to die" vibes. i mostly wanted to evoke the vibe from the scene where tachibana agrees to go with lao gui after kiryu gets shot. just really sad all around. v. so close - jon mclaughlin "we're so close to reaching that famous happy end almost believing this one's not pretend let's go on dreaming though we know we are so close, so close, and still so far" me? picking a song from disney's enchanted??? for a playlist??? it's more likely than you think. idk this song just gives me that vibe of being so close to being happy and together, almost reminiscing and wondering what could have been. but it just... won't happen. vi. as the world caves in - matt maltese "yes, it's you i welcome death with as the world, as the world caves in" oops, yes, i had to go there. just couldn't resist including this song, and i feel like it's really self-explanatory. vii. places we won't walk - bruno major "neon lights shine bold and bright buildings grow to dizzy heights people come alive at night in places we won't walk" again, i feel like this song speaks for itself. a bit of a meditation on kiryu's perspective on things that could have happened, things they would have done, that kiryu will just have to do alone from now on. viii. carry me out - mitski "i drive when it rains at night, when it rains, i drive and the headlight spirits they lead me down the styx so black it shines and carry me out carry me out"

possibly the saddest and the most powerful song in this playlist, because i just had to put a mitski song again. the image of kiryu carrying tachibana's body is just constantly in my mind when i listen to this, but i could also see this song being from the perspective of tachibana's spirit. ix. arms tonite - mother mother "i died in your arms tonight i slipped through into the afterlife it was nice" lmao this felt a bit like a cruel joke to include, but i didn't want this playlist to end TOO depressingly. it's a nod to tachibana dying in kiryu's arms, sure, but also it's romantic and possibly a little hopeful (tachibana lives au!!! orpheus and eurydice au!!! fuck it, idk!!) xi. everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears "there's a room where the light won't find you holding hands while the walls come tumbling down when they do, i'll be right behind you so glad we've almost made it so sad they had to fade it everybody wants to rule the world" not a recommendation from my sister, but it is her favorite song, and she was happy that i included it. another 80's bop with sad lyrics! i feel like this is a lovely summary of their story together and it feels like a nice little bow to wrap up the playlist. i hope you enjoyed my long ass explanations! i might add songs later (or make an entire second playlist altogether for the fic i'm writing rn, but let's not get ahead of ourselves)

#tachikiryu #yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #kazuma kiryu #tetsu tachibana #playlist #audio #THIS IS SUCH A LONG POST I CAN'T BELIEVE I WROTE ALL THIS ARRRRGH #praying this shows up in the tags lmao

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thefutureduchessmarie · 4 years ago

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My thoughts on Buck Begins (and why it was such a letdown to me)

There was a lot to love about this episode (particularly the background it provided on Buck and Maddie), but ultimately it failed to live up to the expectation for me. Here’s why: FOCUSING ON BUCK/MADDIE INSTEAD OF BUCK/CHOSEN FAMILY

So far the season did a great job in showing exactly how and why Buck grew up with so many abandonment issues and feeling like he wasn’t enough. But the issues didn’t come from Maddie. Sure, he was hurt when she moved away, but that had already been mostly dealt with. And of course discovering she lied to him his whole life was hard, but I feel like given their current relationship Buck would always forgive her for that, he just needed time to process it. What I really needed from this episode was for Buck to realize/accept that he’d already found the family he’s been looking for his whole life.

The idea that he 118 are each other’s chosen family is one of the central themes of the show, and I needed that energy now, more than ever. All I wanted was to see them doing everything they could to save Buck, not because it’s their job, but because they love him. And they did - each one of them walked into that building, knowing they could very well die. We just didn’t get to see that because the show failed to realize that should have been the climax all along.

Was there seriously no one who could tell him that he doesn’t have to save every single person on the planet in order to be worthy? That he’s enough on his own? Because that’s the reason why he keeps putting himself in life-threatening situations to begin with. And instead of helping him realize that, they praised him for it and told him that’s why they love him so much, reinforcing his belief that he needs to be out there saving people in order to earn the right to be loved.

BOBBY

The father/son relationship between him and Buck has been an important part of the show since season 1. So when it was revealed that Buck Begins would address Buck’s complicated relationship with his parents and culminate with him being stuck in a fire - a situation that mimics the way Bobby’s children died, it felt like everything was lining up for this dynamic to be the heart of the episode. It seemed to offer the perfect opportunity for both of them to make peace with their past (Bobby couldn’t save his children, but he could save Buck; and Buck could get closure from his parents and fully accept Bobby as the only parents figure he needs in his life). The crossover only seemed to confirm that.

By ignoring that, and not showing any special focus on Bobby, they didn’t just waste the opportunity to tell a beautiful and meaningful story. They completely disrespected Bobby as a character. Because you look me in the eye, and tell me that seeing someone he recognizes as a his kid, someone he loves and feels responsible for stuck in a building on fire wouldn’t be triggering as fuck to Captain Nash! The show can’t just ignore the single most traumatizing event of his life simply because they don’t know how to address more than one relationship (Buck/Maddie) in one episode.

EDDIE

If there’s one thing I hate in television, it’s fan service. Its always painfully obvious when a show is doing something not because they believe in it, but because the fans want it. However, right now 911 is doing a sort of anti-fan-service that is just as terrible. Basically, they created a “Buddie monster” that doesn’t seem to have been planned and now they have no idea how to handle it. It was so clear that they were going out of their way to avoid any Buddie moments in this episode, that they ended up throwing Eddie’s characterization and the beautiful friendship they wrote for him and Buck out of the window.

The Eddie I’ve been seeing for 3 seasons now would be the first to rush into that building after Buck, even before he got any confirmation or authorization from anyone. Instead, they turned him into this ice cold person right when Buck was feeling so unloved and abandoned. They don’t want to make Buddie as a couple? Fine. I can live with that. But please don’t disrespect the amazing friendship that has been canonically written. If they don’t think they can show us Eddie caring and worrying about his best friend without making it romantic, then it means they’re not doing they’re job well.

They also inadvertently created a power imbalance between those two that literally no one asked for. Because now, if you compare how each of them reacted to the other being stuck in a life risking situation, it comes across as Buck caring way more than Eddie. Which I don’t think it’s true, but alas…. Its there now, and it reinforces Buck’s feelings of never being enough.

(And yes, I’m already taking into account their different personalities. I never expected Eddie to panic in the way Buck did in Eddie Begins. But I was expecting him to freak out in his own Eddie way, which he didnt. At all. Despite the show repeatedly showing us how important Buck is in his life and how much he unravels without him)

The cheap queer baiting (“I feel like he’s working his way through the village people”? They were purposely showing past-Buck in queer stereotypes and they know it. And Im really getting tired of them not putting their money where their mouth is) v them going out of their way to make sure there were no meaningful interactions between Buck and the man people ship him with

PLAIN-ASS INCONSISTENCIES OR WEAK TV :/

First thing Bobby told them when they got to the scene was that they couldn’t separate from the team. They’re all trained professionals, fully aware of how risky the situation was. They’re also aware that Buck is the most reckless member of the team on a normal day, and that day he was dealing with some particularly difficult shit. So why the hell did no one stop him when he tried to separate from the team? If you wanna convince yourself the 118 suck and don’t love Buck, fine, but I know its not true. So Hen and Chim letting Buck go just feels out of character to me. Something the writers did, not because it made sense, but because they needed to have him alone and couldn’t come up with a better plan.

Now compare that to Eddie Begins, for example, a Begin episode that followed a very similar structure. Eddie being stuck didn’t feel forced, because the situation was properly explained and contextualized. Everything made perfect sense given their line of work, the team dynamics and protocol. It felt like the natural consequences of a very risky job. It also made sense that Eddie Begins focused so much on Eddie/Christopher and climaxed with him fighting like hell to return to his son, because that’s Eddie’s struggle - feeling like he failed as a parent.

Buck’s struggle is feeling like he was always the one left behind. The one people didn’t love enough, because he it made it hard to. So by not focusing on his relationship with his chosen family, all we’re left with is “Buck and Maddie against the world”. Which is not where any of those characters deserve to be and ignores all the progress that has been made for 4 seasons.

By focusing so much on this one relationship, they also turned this into “Buck and Maddie Begins”, instead of Buck Begins. THEY COULDN’T EVEN FOCUS ON BUCK IN HIS OWN EPISODE. Tell me how is this supposed to help resolve his insecurities?

I did love all the flashbacks and the moments between the siblings tho. And I cried reals tears when Maddie pulled out her own version of Buck’s box. I guess I’ll just have to rely on fanfiction and headcanons to fill all the voids mentioned above

#911 fox #evan 'buck' buckley #maddie buckley #bobby nash #eddie diaz #buck begins #Sorry if this is such a downer - I just needed to get it all out of my chest

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sweetestlamb · 4 years ago

Text

Too Little Too Late

Summary: Mun-yeong doesn't forgive Gang-tae after their heated kiss.

Author's note: As promised, here is grovel GT fic it's going to be shorter expositions, I wrote this on my work commute lol 😂 I'll update as I can. This will be a slow burn and he will really have to win over our girl, as always enjoy! (I know I said that last story, might be my last story for a while but inspiration struck what can I say?...um surprise!)

Image by @vivavorever I just thought this picture was perfect! I had to steal borrow it 😊😊

Let's talk.

Instinctively she feels her hormones ramp up at those seemingly innocent words, memories of his body pressed against hers saturating her senses. But this time the phrase appears to have no encrypted interpretation as he leads her down the winding staircase and to her broad mahogany table.

And then he's talking.

Finally opening up to her and sharing the darker corners of his complicated history, tales of homicide and heartbreaks and her chest is tight watching the raw hurt that pours from his eyes.

Heart aches for Sang-tae who was forced to witness such a heinous act that still tortures him to this day.

Shattered by the thought of two young boys whose innocence was snatched away so viciously at such an early age, forced to grown up and raise themselves because of the evil act of another.

If she ever encountered that butterfly she would rip it to pieces, slowly. Make it squirm and suffer the way they had.

....and I need you.

With those words her revengeful thoughts dissapate, furling away in a puff of smoke as he utters the words she has longed to hear, her ears have been starved to receive.

She waits to feel elated. For her heart to curl back up reattaching all the pieces his story shattered into jagged egdes. Waits and waits. Instead anger and frustration manifest like twin demons unleashed from a caged prison.

He hadn't needed her at the beach when he'd ripped her heart out and left the bleeding organ on the grainy expanse of the beach, the heat from her heart enough to morph the particle into glass.

She had clearly been expendable when it came down to preserving the farce that he and his brother were living, like a ship in a bottle contained and pristine but lacking any true semblance of life. At their first obstacle he'd thrown her to the wolves instead of fighting with her, fighting for her. Despite his declarations and doe eyes now, that was the reality that snapped her from her dream.

"Are you finished?" She whispers, fingers clasped on the surface of the table, heart in her throat.

He blinks at her, openly disgruntled by her words. Mouth gaped in wonder.

It's so devastatingly evident what his expectations were and she wonders when exactly she become so weak, so brittle that he believed she would simply accept him back without even a smidgen of remorse for the sharpened words he'd stabbed into her chest.

"Was that all you wanted to say?" She repeats herself, stare growing frostier with his continued silence.

Finally he snaps out of his stagnation, sputtering, "I..- Yes. I just wanted you to know I.. I'm.... Um."

For a moment she's hopeful, disgustingly so. Eager for him to realize what she requires without any assistance. Because that will ensure that he too understands his wrongs and he's proactively restoring their battered relationship. She waits for him to complete his sentence, heart on her tongue.

"I'm.... going to do better. You just need to win Sang-tae, over and then we can move back in and all be together." He finishes and her anger and frustration melt away instantaneously, blown away with a gasp falls from her lips.

Another test. It's never enough. She'll always be an outsider clawing to be in their word, this elusive love that she's been searching for her whole life will always be just out of her reach, on the cusp where she cannot roam.

She's not enough. Not good enough. Not kind enough. Not worthy of love. Simply not, enough.

He was supposed to be different, the one who saw through her facade, to everyone else she exuded nothing but confidence and impassive cockiness but hadn't he seen her broken enough to know that she wasn't strong? Was so tired of pretending to be strong while the world crushed her to a pulp. He wasn't supposed to see her as an emotionless princess or an empty can.

Yet his words and actions made it clear that he did. She was expected to move on now because he had deigned that their spat was over and done with. She was expected to grovel and plead with his brother for a spot in their life, once again Gang-tae would merely be a moderator and not an offensive player in this game. A coveted toy for them to tussle over, some distorted version of tug of war.

She was so tired.

She didn't have the strength or desire to tug any longer.

She was letting go.

"Thank you for sharing that with me." She sat up straighter, bracing herself for her next words. It wouldn't be easy for her to say them, a small part of her wanted to just curl up and cry, take the crumbs that he threw her way and thank him for his graciousness.

But today a larger part, that sounded eerily like Jeung-Sae, told her that "it was pathetic to wait around for some guy, if he wanted you he would come get you." Sang-in had slapped a hand over her mouth as he repeatedly apologized and at the moment her rage had burned so deep that she stormed out of the room, flipping the green and yellow bags on the ground contemptuously. Her vision flushed in vibrant red.

Today she lets that advice wash over her, a cooling balm.

Gang-tae smiled at her, expectant look on his dastardly handsome face. Wasn't it said that the devil would come with a beautiful face? She was sure of it now, she was staring right at him.

"I'll speak to Sang-tae, to apologize for leaving him out. I'll be a better best friend to him from now on."

He blinked at her words, doing little to hide his emotions today, it was just too little too late in the end.

"Oh. Okay good, if you convince him then we--"

She cut him off with a raised hand, "No. That has nothing to do with you or us. That's between me and him."

She watched him jolt in his seat, his eyes now wavering as he searched for answers on her face, for once that wouldn't be necessary she was prepared to voice her ideas.

"I don't want you to move back in."

"What? Why!? I thought you wanted us to...."

She almost laughed at the absurdity of him, unable to say aloud what he believed that she wanted, as if it was exclusively something she yearned for.

And maybe it was. She had always been the driving force and creator, bending them into something that resembled a normal functioning relationship whilst he ran and spat poison at every turn.

"I'm tired." She stands up, turning away before her heart betrays her and clings to him.

His hand on her wrist halts her movement, she pauses eyes watering, tears dangerously close to falling but her jaw tightens in resolve.

"Mun-yeong, I don't understand...?"

She sighs, dragging her hand away, "That's because all you can see is your pain."

She's tempted to hurl his own poisonous words back at him, but she reconsiders, they've hurt each other enough. She'll break this vicious cycle.

"Leave Gang-tae, I need time away from you."

She walks away, hand desperately clutching at the railing, her body is heavy as all her strength evaporates leaving her an empty husk.

There is silence. And then the front door opens. And there is more pained quiet.

And then the ocean pours into her living room as she falls to her knees.

He leaves without a fight.

How tragically expected.

#psycho but it's okay #its okay to not be okay #its okay to not be okay fic #ko mun yeong #moon gang tae #grovel #MY deserves better #so better she shall get #will edit later #ignore any mistakes

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lexilucacia · 4 years ago

Note

Hi, can you write something where Chase is in a stable and healthy relationship with a girl/guy from outside of work and one day they make him lunch with cute notes inside and house finds it and then mocks him before the team ( original or the rest) and Chase goes I'm happy and that's what matters and then he goes home and proposes because he knows his partner is all he wants in life. Pls pls pls i just want him to be happy.

This prompt really spoke to me, so I’m sooooo sorry to everyone else’s I haven’t written yet, but when inspiration strikes, it just does!

Title: Little notes For Chase

Words: 3031

Tags: Marriage Proposal ×Weddings ×Fluff ×House Being House ×Secret Relationship ×Love Letters ×(or notes really) ×love notes ×thats not a tag ×Love Confessions ×Cross-Posted on Tumblr ×Tumblr Prompt ×Teasing ×Happy Ending ×Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts ×Author Is Sleep Deprived ×I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping ×POV Robert Chase ×

Pairings: Robert Chase/OMC

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29378082

Chase smiled again at the little note that his partner had slipped inside his lunch bag. They never failed to make him smile from the ones that had long extravagant messages to the small ‘I love u!’s that often made an appearance on a busy morning. He can’t really remember how it started, he thinks it must have been a late night where Chase was a bit too tired to pack his own bag (and that made him sound like a school kid). So, Felix had packed food for him, sending him off to work with a kiss and a ‘I love you’.

He had seen the yellow postie flutter to the ground, catching in his grip recognising it as one of his partner’s lucky posties with ducks in the corners. The little message had caught him off guard, he’d expected his boyfriend’s weird rambles that he left around the house accidentally packed in his bag, but instead it was a little smiley face and a love heart. The note read, ‘don’t forget that you are loved (especially by me)’ with little hat drawn onto the printed cartoon duck.

He clutched the note to his chest, pinning it up in his locker once his lunch break was over. They didn’t speak of it, but at night, after Chase had thought Felix was asleep he pressed a soft kiss to his nape, and squeezed him a little tighter.

The notes had become a constant in his life, he was used to finding one sitting one behind the toothpaste holder, one in the cabinet next to a new box of his favourite cereal and occasionally in his textbooks when he was studying for requalifications. He still found notes in his lunchbox, his favourite sitting next to a picture of him and his beloved. This one in particular read ‘I know I don’t have to woo you my love, you’d never leave me. But if you did, let’s just say I know an abandoned warehouse, you’re with me for the long haul.’

Chase had almost cried at that one and had wanted to pull out the wedding ring he’d put in the back of his cupboard a few months prior, that very night. Felix’s warped, wacky and weird sense of humour was the reason Chase loved him so much. He nevertheless stopped himself, unable to forgive himself if Felix didn’t get the proposal he deserved, goddamnit.

They’d talked about marriage a lot, but neither had popped the question and Chase wanted to make the day that he did perfect (if Felix didn’t beat him to it at this rate). He was falling more in love with the man and his endearing notes, not that he’d thought it was possible and most days he thought his heart might burst with love. He’d be concerned if he wasn’t a doctor and working at a hospital.

Felix always seemed to know what to say. Reminders of love and worth came on days where he couldn’t his dad’s words out of his head, notes of memories and date nights came when Chase was feeling nostalgic, and his favourite every day the assurance of love. He never knew how to repay Felix, what to do for him, so he settled on small things, things that often would come up in the notes.

He’d notice that Felix was running out of clean socks and the next day all of Felix’s socks would be lined up, folded and washed (even if he’d had a night shift), prompting the drawing of tiny socks on his next note. Or Chase unloading the dishwasher, or putting Felix’s books away when he fell asleep with them on his chest.

Both of them savoured these small things, tokens of their love, their bliss and domesticity. It all seemed to be going well, until one day Chase was careless. His boss House had all but ordered a team lunch, so there was no way out with his dignity (or secrets as it may be).

Lunch started out normal, or normal as it could be with House and his nosey (pining in one case) colleagues, Cameron and Foreman, so he should have expected this. Chase pulled out his lunch bag, ignoring the snickering from House about how gay it looked and set to work digging through to see what food Felix had packed today. Inside it held a vegemite sandwich, a few pieces of chopped up fruit, juice box and a small lamington they’d purchased earlier in the week.

It honestly looked like a school lunch, House teasing him as such as he ignored his definitely flaming cheeks and certainly beet red ears. He was almost (not really) pleased to see the lack of a note perching in his bag, until something yellow fluttered past his eye, reminding him of the first day. Before he could smile goofily at the memory and snatch up his note, a loud sound rang out in the cafeteria.

The yellow disappeared under a familiar stump of wood, that Chase was used to hearing click down the halls of PPTH. The man had surprisingly quick reflexes (only when it embarrassed Chase of course) and the paper made a loud sound as it slid along the floor to House’s foot. The thrum of his heart beat and the scraping of the paper was all he could hear as the cafeteria noise was muffled around him.

The older man picked up the note, capturing the attention of a few tables around them and the new people sitting at their table. House scrunched his eyes at the note, crinkling his nose in distaste at contents and reading it disdainfully.

“3 years i’ve put up with your ugly mug and you still haven’t learnt to fold shirts properly. Date night doesn’t sound so fun now.” The note had a crudely, pencil drawn shirt on the duck, making Chase smile as he looked over House’s shoulder.

Ho honestly didn’t know whether to sob or laugh, settling for a strange mixture of both, smile wide and tears running down his face, so that the rest of the cafeteria was staring at him, if they hadn’t been before.

It was their 3 year anniversary, Felix had remembered the conversation they’d had on their first date, he had never been more in love with the man. He must have zoned back, because when he finally snapped back to snatch the note from a gaping House’s hand, he was being barraged with questions.

“3 years?”

“Why didn’t we know?”

“Who is she?”

“What’s the crying for?”

“How could you have kept this a secret?”

“Is she hot?”

“I thought you slept with everyone?”

“What about the nurses?”

Chase was already getting a headache, not in the mood for this and wanting to sneak off and call Felix, just to rant about his day or blubber about his love, whatever came out first. He put a hand out, effectively silencing everyone. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “What do you want to know?”

Before they could all start shouting again he sighed. “One at a time.”

“Who is she? Why didn’t we know? How long Chase?” Chase had to coach his face into a neutral expression not to blow up at Cameron, the woman had made it no secret of her crush on him.

He simply raised an eyebrow, on an otherwise poker face. “His name is Felix. 3 years and I am under no obligation to share my personal life. There is a reason it’s my private life.” He glared.

Cameron looked shocked, before apologising for being rude and Chase felt a little guilty, but not enough to apologise in front of hundreds of prying eyes. He turned to Foreman who looked like he was bursting for a question.

“He?” Was all Foreman could get out, voice squeaky.

“He is the love of my life. Any more questions?”

“Knew you were too pretty to be straight.” House smirked, taking a bite into the younger man’s sandwich before spitting it out.

“Did you try to poison me?” He shrieked.

It was Chase’s turn to smirk, picking up the offending sandwich and taking a large bite out of the other side. “I hope my boyfriend wasn’t trying to do so, it would have been me.” He exclaimed with mock horror.

He munched on the sandwich ignoring the taunts coming his way from House and walked back to his locker to put away his lunch bag and postie. Unfortunately House, Foreman and Cameron had deigned it necessary to walk him to his locker. After failed attempts to get them to walk away he opened his locker, smiling at the bright yellow notes and pictures of the two of them.

The photos detailed their story, their first date and Chase could almost feel it, smell it, taste it. Their hands damp with nervous sweat, uncomfortable suits and awkward conversation at a fancy Italian restaurant that had ended with them shucking off their ties, undoing their top buttons, kicking off their shoes and running in the rain. There was a cute, but blurry before and after photo of their date that Chase had insisted on printing for their anniversary.

The rest of the images showed dates at DisneyLand, kisses under the mistletoe, birthdays and anniversaries spent together, hell there was even a picture of a half asleep Felix, shirtless and covered by a white sheet, Chase had taken one morning when the sun was just right and he looked like an angel in disguise.

The post it notes took up all his locker door, some half hanging off, some stuck with blue tac, others with sticky tape and the special ones hung on a piece of string with some old pegs. It was truly an altar for his love, his life and he couldn’t be happier. Tucked behind it was an old picture of a shirtless blonde, teen, smiling widely on the beach, arm around a similar looking but younger girl, also grinning. They were holding matching surfboards and both were dripping wet from the surf, clutching ice blocks.

Chase treasured the photo of him and his sister, but Felix took up the most space, like he did in Chase’s life. He’d bounded in and never left, from the day he’d run into him on a train and spilt coffee on him (what a cliche), while running late for one of House’s crazy ideas. Felix had filled the hole in his life that Chase hadn’t realised he’d had, life always filled with colour and joy and weirdness, with love and a warmth he’d never felt before. For once he was content, no matter what he could hear the others muttering behind him.

Foreman didn’t leave him alone the rest of the day, every time they went to do lab samples, nudging him and asking about his sex life. Cameron was more discreet but she too wanted to know everything, it wasn’t unusual behaviour for either, but it had never really been directed at him, making it disconcerting.

House however, was acting much the same, always having teased him about the nurses, only changing the pronouns he used and adding more gay jabs than usual. It didn’t bother Chase for some reason today, maybe it was because he was too excited to see Felix, see what they were for their 3rd year anniversary, Felix had said he’d wanted to plan it this year.

As he was leaving the hospital, he was met with wolf whistles and an eyebrow raise from Cuddy (of course House had gone to her). Wilson also gave him a soft smile as he left, wishing him the next of luck Chase supposed, while House had pelted him with comments about his sex life and ‘taking it up the arse’ as he left. He didn’t care, he was floating on a cloud.

He had to stop himself from speeding home, knowing it was dangerous and Felix would definitely scold him for it, besides he didn’t want to go back to PPTH tonight. After what felt like forever he pulled up outside his house and didn’t bother waiting before he grabbed his bag, rushing up the stairs. What he saw when he entered was not what he expected, but endeared him regardless.

Felix seemed to be juggling six pots, pans and bowls, food spilled on the counter and the faint smell of burning was what greeted him at the door. “Felix, my love?”

He called as he walked in, hanging up his coat and shucking off his shoes, going up behind his boyfriend and wrapping his hands around the smaller man’s waist. “What is this?”

Felix set everything down on the counter, turning around to give Chase a kiss and looking severely put out.

“Robbie,” he whined. “It was supposed to be a surprise, and good, and be fantastic and awesome and it didn’t happen.”

He was pouting and giving Robbie puppy dog eyes and it felt so good to come home and be Robbie, himself, not Chase, like his father. He hummed at his partner, swaying with him and ignoring the half-hearted flails and whines to go back to the cooking.

“How about we get some take out and we’ll clean this up in the morning?” He asked, distracting the man with kisses along his freckles and pulling him impossibly closer, flushed to his hips.

Felix looked like he wanted to argue before moaning into the kiss and pulling Robbie closer. “Okay.”

They made their way over to the couch, Felix lying in Robbie’s arms while they argued over what to watch and whether Hannibal or Will was cuter. All in all it felt domestic, it felt like home. He was warm and comfortable, his brain to mouth filter had gone by now. A few too many drinks and shared thoughts about getting railed by Hannibal ensured it, but even he didn’t think he’d be this stupid.

He opened his mouth and without thinking too much about it he asked, “Will you marry me Felix?”

Felix bolted upright, jostling a sleepy Robbie who had Felix lying on top of him and was running his fingers through the smaller man’s hair, the key word being was.

“Are you serious?” Felix asked, wide eyed. He looked on the verge of tears, but the smile on his face betrayed his emotions in a second.

It took a moment for Chase to realise what he’d said, jerking himself awake. “Yeah.” He finally breathed out, suddenly breaking into a grin.

“Yeah.” Before either of them can stop it, they’re breaking out into hysterical laughter, is this what being in love is like? Chase has never felt anything as close, he wants to feel it for the rest of his life.

“Yeah?” Chase smiles, jumping up and running to their room. He runs back out in record time, narrowly missing the coffee table and getting down on one knee just in time to see Felix sprint out of the kitchen. He opens the box up, showing the reasonable sized rock he’d gotten Felix, hoping to god that he’d like it. Felix took one look at the ring before bursting out into tears.

“Will you be my husband?” Chase asked, smiling sheepishly. “I know it’s not a grand proposal and we just had take out and it’s on our-”

Felix shut him up with a kiss which definitely distracted Chase, then opened his own box. “As long as you’ll be mine.”

The ring Felix has chosen is beautiful, there’s no other way to describe it. It is so perfectly them. On the inside the engraving reads ‘for my silly duck’, the outside a rose gold and encrusted with tiny diamonds. Chase let out a wet sob, sliding Felix’s ring onto his hand. The inscription on his reads ‘for my post-it note hero’ and he cannot wait to spend the rest of his life with this man.

They don’t do much for the rest of the night, as the excitement and nervous energy runs down they sit examining their rings, half watching the tv and both fall asleep on the couch. They both wake up a little too late, but Felix doesn’t have to go into work until midday so he packs Chase’s lunch and sends him off to work with a kiss and a goodbye to his fiance.

God it still made them both giddy. The team noticed as Chase walked in, earlier than usual with a spring in his step, Foreman making a crude comment about getting laid and Cameron just smiling awkwardly, obviously agreeing with Foreman’s assessment but unable to say it.

“So who asked?” House asked, walking in the room and glancing at Chase's inconspicuously hidden hand, that neither fellow had noticed.

“It was a joint effort.” He smiled giddily just thinking of the night before as House made gagging sounds and the other two congratulated him. He got a thump on the back from Foreman, an awkward hug from Cameron, an even more awkward bout of advice from Wilson and a happy congratulations from Cuddy. Word spread around the hospital like wildfire, but he didn’t care.

He was getting married. He had a fiance.

He pulled out his lunch, sitting alone at a table, wanting to see what Felix had packed him. As expected a little note flew out of the bag and landed on the table in front of him, it all seemed to be going his way.

‘To my duckling, my darling fiance’, it read, Chase’s heart skipped a beat at the word, ‘I love you with all my butt. I would say my heart, but it is just not as big.’

He laughed at his boyfriend’s crude sense of humor and big gluteus maximus Felix had given the duck in pencil, placing the note in his locker right next to the photo of their first date. The next photo to go up would be a photo of them at town hall, too excited to wait, along with a photo from their first dance and the traditional cake fight.

He couldn’t be happier, with what Felix called them his ‘Little Notes For Robbie’.

#robert chase x omc #robert chase #house md #proposals #marriage #fluff #everything is beautiful #fanfic #house fanfic #love letters #dumb sense of humour #wrote this instead of sleeping #lexi's fanfic #lexi's writing #greg house

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lombredanslaeu · 5 years ago

Text

in undertow | jaehyun x reader oneshot

▸ based on the movie “eternal sunshine of the spotless mind” and the song “in undertow” by alvvays. [angst]

▸ please do let me know your feedback on this one-shot by messaging me. i would gladly appreciate it. enjoy!

“You made a mistake you’d like to erase and I understand”

FULLSUN Neuroscience Inc. has developed a technology wherein people can choose to erase a person, event, or even an object from their memory forever. If the patient decides to erase a person, FULLSUN sends a notice letter to the target person of the patient. You stared at the paper. You, of course, knows how to read but for some reason the statement from the paper did not make any sense. Jung Jaehyun has requested that Y/N Y/L/N will be eradicated from his memory. We hope you respect the decision of our patient. What could you have possibly done that makes Jaehyun want to erase you from his memory?

You and him met while you were in college. While you were drunk at one of Ten’s parties and ranting to the stranger next to you about how you hated the course you’re currently taking. That stranger happened to be Jung Jaehyun. “It’s not that it will be the worse job in the world,” you started, thinking he has all the right answers because he seems to be one year ahead of you. “It’s just that I don’t feel happy right now and I’m afraid I will never be.”

“First of all, do you want me to talk you out of shifting or do you want me to encourage you to shift?” He asked for clarifications. At this point, you were too drunk off of whatever concoction Doyoung has been giving you in large cups for the past two hours.

“Just look at me and tell me that I will not be a failure despite what I will choose to do tomorrow.” You slurred.

“Okay. You will never be a failure despite what you will do tomorrow.” He announced, accompanied by a sweet smile. A smile that didn’t say that he feels sorry for you but one that said that you will really be fine. “And you will be happy. I promise.”

”I told you. You’ll be alright.” Jaehyun smiles down on you. You were already on your second semester with the course that you felt happy and connected with.

“Can you imagine where would I be if I never ranted to you during Ten’s party?” You asked laughing.

“My best guess? Crying on your bathroom floor.” You playfully smacked him on the chest.

“Thank you, Jaehyun.” You looked up at him. He smiled back at you while his thumb was caressing your hand that he was holding. It felt as though the stars have aligned and all of the odds where on your side. That was the time when you knew.

You married Jaehyun 3 months after your graduation. You landed a job that you’ve been dreaming about since you shift courses in college. He just got promoted at his job. What could go wrong right? You unpacked boxes after boxes of stuff into your new shared apartment. Along with the bottle of champagne, you were also accompanied by the old, both bitter and sweet, memories of you in college. It was as if it was just yesterday you were puking your lungs out in front of Ten’s house and the next second, you were in the arms of the love of your life, laughing the night away. Oh what could possibly go wrong, right?

“Can’t buy into astrology, and won’t rely on the moon for anything”

Everything was going wrong. You’ve spent countless nights asking yourself why. Was I the problem? Were we moving too fast? What went wrong? You ask yourself questions after questions and not coming up with any answer. Who forgot to burn the fire? Maybe it was because you two were not a match? But why did it sparked so much back then? You’ve always dreamt about laying around the fire during Christmas, with hot chocolates on your hands. You’ve thought about gathering around a bonfire with your closest friends, singing songs, and just being in love. Or even sputtering hot lava from your lips, back and forth against each other, wondering who will surrender first. But later, you will remind each other that the burning of your love is greater than the burn of anything that could set you apart.

“You know I love you, right?” You would say to each other after an argument. You both always knew how to make it right.

But now, there wasn’t anything. Just a document in front of you, waiting to be signed. Your hand was restless and sweaty as you picked up the pen. Your mind telling you to get it over and done with, yet your heart was yearning for just another minute, another hour, another sunrise, another laughing session with Jaehyun. But, at last, you finally did it. Your signature on the document that will break off whatever bond you have left with him. You watched him pick up the pen expecting him to immediately sign. You waited for the sound of the ballpoint’s friction with the paper. You waited for the sting in your ears but it never came. Instead, he retracted his hand from the paper and placed it on his face.

“Jae,” you said. It was supposedly a call for his attention but it sounded more like a plead for him to do it now.

“I-it’s just that...I’ve always heard about people’s marriages that failed and I know it’s not an impossible thing to happen to anyone,” He started. “It’s just that never in my life have I thought about the day I’m divorcing you.”

“What’s left for you and me? / I’ll take suggestions / We toss and turn in undertow / Time to let go”

You’ve gotten used to the silence of the apartment each day. It would be a lie to admit that you don’t enjoy being alone. You never knew what it was like to have someone until you were with Jaehyun. Before, you’ve were so used to being alone that love & affection was a foreign enigma to you. Now, you’ve gotten used to Jaehyun that you don’t know how to rise up again. Your friends helped you a lot by staying over sometimes, drinking liquids that has the color of love to forget love, and just anything to make you believe again. And it works. But some nights you still reach over to his side of the bed and wish to every god that there may be, that this was all just a dream. But every morning you realize that what you had with Jaehyun was probably the dream. He was a dream. With his smooth skin, magnetizing smile, and his overall character. It was never a perfect dream though. There were yelling, blaming, crying, but at the end of the day it was you and him against any problem. Not you against him. It always felt right. You and him always felt right. It was as if you were made to find him and be with him. For a long time you believed that that was true.

Sooner or later, you both found yourself struggling to keep afloat as you both hold onto each other. The current of the undersea was too much for your strength and you know Jaehyun was getting tired too. It would be unfair for him if he was the only one who’ll keep fighting. So you gave up. You let go and it was time for you to face reality. The reality that people come and people go. Lovers will enter your life to make you feel like the most beautiful being that held the stars in the eyes. Lovers will also break you down and make your once-sparkling eyes as dead as a black hole.

Jaehyun had always accentuated that he loves you. He always will. And you will always believe and know that.

“I love you, y/n. This doesn’t mean that I stopped or will stop loving you.” He pleads.

“I know. I’m sorry it has to be this way.” You said as tears were starting to form. “Oh god, why did it have to be this way? I love you so much. What went wrong, Jaehyun?”

“I wish I knew the answer so that this would be so much easier than it really is.” He held your hand. His eyes bore into yours as if to beg to believe whatever he is saying. His lashes bore the weight of tears that he held back before coming here.

It was time for you to face the reality that loving someone means healing and forgiving. Loving someone means letting them go if you’re starting to hurt them. You were hit with the reality that, yes, love is beautiful but love is also the deadliest weapon of all.

“There’s no turning back / I’m so uninspired”

You didn’t know what to think. You weren’t mad. You have no reason to be. But why? You knew Jaehyun was a headstrong person who can stand up even after the darkest night. But why did he suddenly want to wake up as if you never happened in his life? You thought he would never forget you, his first wife. He even had Johnny come up one time just to ask you how you were. Maybe that was one of his steps in forgetting you. Forgetting what you look like and who you are.

As time slips by your hand, you could feel your memory escaping his mind. Thoughts of being angry at Jaehyun for this decision were dying to be heard. Betrayal was dying to be felt by you. But you fought all of it. Perhaps this was his way of healing from you and you will let that. For loving someone means healing and forgiving. And you love him so.

“No turning back”

Miss Y/N Y/L/N, you have been successfully erased from Jung Jaehyun.

fin.

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: ahhh i hope u enjoyed this. it’s been a while since i wrote so i’m sorry if its suckish. i would really appreciate if u let me know what you think of this!! :)

#jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #nct imagines #nct drabbles #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x you #nct jaehyun x reader #jaehyun angst #jaehyun drabbles #jaehyun smut #jaehyun fluff #nct scenarios #nct 127 #johhny suh #kim doyoung #nct

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agentkatie · 4 years ago

Note

Cullen/Shepard coffee shop AU?

This prompt is *squints at drafts* 84 years old, but after joking about it for so long I’ve finally written it! Enjoy!

The whole thing is below the cut, or alternatively you can read it all over on AO3.

5,394 words, in which Cullen repeatedly orders coffee despite Shepard’s flagrant misspelling of his name. Rated M for Shepard’s singular ability to lower the tone.

- - - - -

Cullen squinted at the blackboard behind the counter, struggling to make sense of the menu. When the Iron Bull had suggested grabbing coffee outside of the office Cullen had been hesitant, keen to continue his work at his desk, but for the sake of getting to know his new colleagues he had relented. He now regretted that decision. The artisan coffee shop across the street was too small and too loud, the haze of chatter making it difficult for him to think and the rich aromas invading his senses, and he longed to be back at his desk with a simple, pronounceable cup of tea.

“Great, she’s got her Antivan flatbread in again,” Bull said, inspecting the glass cabinet full of cakes and muffins with great interest. “Made your mind up yet?”

Cullen glanced at the indecipherable list of coffees once more before shrugging his shoulders. “I think I shall just have something back at the office.”

“Something wrong?”

“No,” Cullen said. “My choice in coffee is just generally less…”

Bull smirked at him. “Interesting?”

“Pretentious.”

“Hi!”

The sudden bright voice behind him made him jump, and his heart sank as he swivelled around to find one of the shop’s employees behind him: a small redhead in a coffee-stained apron and a name badge which simply read Shepard. Her eyes bore into him, one eyebrow arched as she regarded him with a mixture of annoyance and amusement, and in any other circumstance he might have been impressed by her ability to intimidate with just a look; as it was, he only hoped she wasn’t about to put salt in his coffee.

“Shepard’s House of Pretentious Coffee,” she said, stepping behind the counter and fixing him with a smile which didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How may I help?”

“Ah — forgive me,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt the telltale prickle of embarrassment flushing his cheeks. “I did not intend—”

“Of course not; that would have been rude.” She turned to Bull, her smile softening into a more genuine one. “Hey, Bull. Who’s your friend?”

“Shep, this is Cullen,” Bull grinned back at her, clearly amused by the situation. “He’s our new city editor. Cullen, Shepard.”

“And what can I get you?”

Cullen took one final look at the menu above her head before resigning himself to being undoubtedly her most boring customer all day. “One black coffee, please. To go.”

“Sure. Any specifics?”

“How specific can you get with a black coffee?”

He meant it as a genuine question but it came out derisive and flippant, and she shot Bull a look of clear chastisement for daring to bring such a philistine into the shop. “One black coffee, then. Bull? The usual?”

Bull nodded. “And some of that flatbread.”

They moved to the side as a new stream of customers entered, most of whom he recognised from the office, and though Bull chatted idly to him Cullen found his attention instead drawn to Shepard. She set about brewing their coffee quickly and efficiently, humming a half-tune to herself as she worked, the broad smile and easy manner she offered each new customer far warmer than it had been towards him — and he fleetingly wished he hadn’t been so him, so that he might have seen that smile properly for himself. Still, she was pleasant enough when she handed their drinks over, and his coffee tasted good, the perfect mix of bitter and sharp; he almost considered ordering a cake to go with it, but restrained himself, figuring he’d annoyed the woman enough already.

It wasn’t until he was outside and walking back towards their offices that he glanced at the side of his cup, and saw the name she’d scrawled there.

“I think I upset her.”

“Who, Shep?“ Bull asked, taking a sip of his coffee. Cullen nodded. “Nah. She’s got thick skin.”

“She wrote ‘Colon’ on my cup.”

Bull snorted with amusement as Cullen held out his cup as proof. “Well, she also likes a bit of conflict.”

Cullen groaned as the prickle of embarrassment rushed back to him, this time for the impression he’d created with his new colleague. “Maker’s breath,” he said, taking a long gulp of his drink in the hope it would hide the colour his cheeks were turning.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bull told him, chuckling as he clapped him on the shoulder. “There’s plenty of coffee in the staff room.”

—

Cullen’s mornings started earlier than most. He left his flat each day before the trickle of commuters could give rise to the full stream, the tubes quiet save for the rattle of the rails, just he and a handful of bleary-eyed businesspeople committed to such a routine. He’d intended to head straight to the office as usual, giving him a few solid hours to work before the noise and bustle descended, but as he passed the little coffee shop on the final stretch he felt compelled to go inside.

Because Shepard’s was the name of the shop. He groaned as his eyes landed on the name, not having realised he’d insulted the owner the previous day and feeling even more foolish for it. It would only be a matter of time before he’d be cajoled into going again, either by Bull or someone else in the office, and so he figured he might as well get it out of the way — and, he hoped, if he apologised now maybe it wouldn’t be so uncomfortable later.

And besides, he could do with a cup of coffee.

Despite the early hour he wasn’t alone in the shop, though it was far calmer, the muted conversations of tired workers cut across by the clanging of spoons against mugs. Shepard however appeared fresh faced, seemingly deep in thought as she arranged the day’s pastries in the cabinet.

He hadn’t noticed on their first meeting just how pretty she was. Now, as he hesitated by the cash register and hoped she’d spot him there, it was hard to think of anything else — hard not to be taken in by her wide brown eyes, and the crimson hair carefully weaved into a braid, and the charming splash of freckles across her cheeks. He supposed he’d been too distracted by his own tactlessness before to pay such things any mind, but he wasn’t sure being distracted in this way was better.

At length she glanced in his direction, her look of surprise quickly shifting to a more neutral one. “Hi,” she said, giving him a wan smile as she moved behind the counter. “Black coffee again?”

“You remembered.”

Her smile widened a fraction. “It’s not a hard one.”

He cringed internally as she started on his order, because of course she remembered the man who’d insulted her business and his boring black coffee. “I wanted to apologise for what I said yesterday,” he blurted out. “I was being…”

“Pompous?” she suggested. “Ignorant? A pain in the ass?”

He frowned at her, his remorse flickering. “Are you like this to all your customers?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised anyone comes back.” She smiled at him again, but it was a different one this time, a mischievous grin which invited him in as a co-conspirator, and he just couldn’t help but return it. “Don’t worry about it; I’ll take it as a challenge. I’ll have you ordering little cinnamon sticks in your coffee before the year is out.”

He scoffed before he could catch the impulse. “I highly doubt that.”

“Are you like this to everyone in the service industry?”

He was about to apologise for a second time, cursing himself for his immediate return to boorishness — but then he caught the mirth in her eyes, and how she’d reflected his question back at him, and he hoped he could say something she’d appreciate more. “Yes. I’m surprised anywhere lets me in.”

She grinned again, with a soft laugh this time, her demeanour relaxing further as she returned her attention to his drink. “So — city editor, huh? Where did you work before?”

He was briefly surprised that she’d remembered such a trivial detail, but recovered himself quickly. “Uh— freelance, mainly. I’ve been looking for a permanent post for some time.”

“That’s a step up.”

“I know,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fortunately Mr Trevelyan was willing to give me a chance.”

“Marcus is a good guy,” she said, an unmistakable fondness in her tone now. “You know, for a twelve year old who’s somehow running an entire newspaper.”

“I am sure he’s older than he looks,” Cullen chuckled. “How do you know him?”

“Your building is half my customer base,” she said with a shrug. “If your paper ever goes out of business then so will I. Pastry?”

“Uh— yes. Maybe.” He didn’t want a pastry, for he rarely ever ate breakfast, but he answered without thinking, struck by a ridiculous urge to keep talking to her. “I suppose that’s also how you know the Iron Bull?” he asked as he inspected the selection she’d laid out in the cabinet.

“No, actually. We go to the same gym. He’s my boxing partner.”

He looked up at her, eyeing her critically now, unsure how or why a woman a head shorter than him had teamed up with a Qunari who towered over them both. “That seems a little… mismatched.”

“You don’t think I can take him?” she said, arching an eyebrow at him as though daring him to contradict her. He held his hands up in surrender, not wanting to return to her bad books — or find out whether she could take him too.

“I just meant you are clearly in different weight categories.”

“You sound just like our instructor. He’s also a pain in the ass.”

He let out a snort of laughter, an unexpected and completely undignified sound he would have been embarrassed about if only she hadn’t smiled in return, and why he was amused by this woman’s oddly cheerful insults was beyond him. “Oi! Jar!” a voice interrupted them, and he pulled his attention away from Shepard to find an elf with a haphazard haircut roughly pushing a tray of mugs onto the counter. “Twice. Don’t think I didn’t hear you before.”

“Ass doesn’t count.”

“Does too. And does three.” Shepard cursed again as she pulled a handful of coins from her pocket, shoving them into a half-filled jar on the counter labelled tips/swears. “Four,” the elf told her, and with a groan she threw another coin in. “And when you’re done flirting, you said you’d help with the tables.”

“I forgot you ran the place,” Shepard grumbled, but the elf merely blew a raspberry at her before returning to her work. “Give me a shout when you’ve picked,” she told him. “The cannoli are great.”

She left him then, alone save for the strange fluttering in his chest which had erupted at the word flirting, and it became painfully obvious why he was browsing pastries and laughing so obnoxiously. He had a crush on her. How utterly predictable.

And she’d written Colon on his cup again.

—

He returned several times a week after that, either by himself in the mornings or with a colleague who’d pestered him into lunch, though in truth he didn’t need much persuading — for the coffee was good, and Shepard’s warm smile each time she greeted him was better. It was a frivolous, pointless crush, yet one he was content to indulge in, taking pleasure from their small snippets of conversation each day without expecting anything more. She continued to get his name wrong, and he wasn’t sure whether she actually thought his name was Colon or if she was just trying to wind him up; he’d almost corrected her, once, before her fingers had brushed his as she’d handed him his drink, and his ability to form sentences had fallen straight from his mind.

The elf, Sera, he suspected knew of his infatuation, for each time he entered the shop she rolled her eyes and muttered something he couldn’t quite catch to Shepard, and it might have scared him off if Shepard didn’t seem to brush off whatever she’d said with ease. The rest of her staff were nicer to him, though variable in their ability to manage the place; the queues were twice as long when an elf from Antiva was serving, and it was rowdier when the man everyone addressed as ‘Hawke’ was around, and the Krogan she’d employed for the grand total of a week had turned the area behind the counter into a war zone. Yet he found himself growing to like the chaos of the place, sometimes even staying to drink his coffee inside — and the fact that Shepard would chat longer with him when he did so was only part of the reason for that.

A month had gone by at his new job before he knew it, and Bull insisted on going out for lunch to mark the occasion; Cullen agreed with very little protest, knowing by now that lunch only ever referred to one place. Shepard’s was busier than usual, and it took several minutes for them to reach the front of the queue, though Shepard herself looked unfazed by the bustle, greeting them both with the same, beautiful smile she always wore.

“Back already?” she said to Cullen, who’d already picked up a coffee that morning. “It must be my lucky day.” She often spoke to him like this, with casual comments somewhere between mockery and flirtation, and she meant nothing by them but his stomach still did a ridiculous flip in response every time. “You boys staying in?”

“Yeah,” Bull said. “Usual for me, Shep. And—”

“The flatbread; I know. How about you? Same again?”

Cullen hesitated, torn between his stubbornness and the curiosity he’d been surprised to discover in himself, before resigning himself to the choice he’d been considering for a week. Even though he knew he’d get teased for it. “Actually, I was— I thought I might like to try something else.”

Shepard’s face lit up as she broke into the broadest grin he’d ever seen her wear, leaning on the counter and propping her chin on her hands. “I knew I’d get you,” she said, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him. “Go on then. What’ll it be?”

“I— uh—” he floundered, having planned up to this part but never being able to settle on a choice in his mind. “What would you recommend?”

“I don’t think you and me have the same taste, Mr One Black Coffee,” she told him, which was a better name than Colon but which still made heat prickle at the back of his neck. “But if it were me, I’d go for a caramel macchiato.”

“Ah. That may be a little…” he trailed off before he said the word ‘sickly’, but the roll of her eyes told him she knew where his sentence had been going.

“I’ll make you a vanilla latte, then. That’s pretty much you in drink form.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why do I feel like you’re insulting me through the medium of coffee?”

She gasped, putting her hand over her chest in mock hurt. “How could you think I would do such a thing? To my valued customers?” He was on the verge of pointing out her persistent misspelling of his name, but then she winked at him and he all but forgot what his name was; instead he descended into awkward silence as she made their drinks, all the while growing increasingly annoyed at Bull’s easy banter with her.

The pair made their way over to a free table by the window, and it was only when they were seated that Cullen registered Bull’s smug expression. “What?”

“You’re into her.”

“Wha— no,” Cullen said. “Why would you think— I barely know her, and she doesn’t— I wouldn’t even—”

“Sure,” Bull cut off his increasingly inarticulate protests with a knowing smile. “Nice sprinkles.” He said it as though agreeing to chocolate sprinkles was an egregious declaration of love, and Cullen glared at his coffee, mentally making a note never to accept Bull’s offer of lunch again. “She’s single, by the way. And fun. You should ask her out.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Do you harass all of your colleagues like this?” Bull merely scoffed, leaning back in his chair as he began to eat his flatbread, and Cullen knew for his own sake he should drop the subject but there was still one thing on his mind. “She keeps spelling my name… poorly,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing as he said it. “Could tell her that I’m not actually named after the large intestine?”

“Nah,” he grinned at him. “You’ll have to tell her that yourself.”

“Maker’s breath.”

He took a sip of his coffee, surprised first by its sweetness and second by the fact he didn’t hate it, and his gaze involuntarily drifted back to Shepard; she’d started serving someone else but caught his eyes even so, her expression curious as she mouthed good? at him.

Good, he mouthed back, which was perhaps overstating it, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything else.

Good, she repeated, her smile lighting up her features once more, and his heart fluttered in his chest in response.

Maker, but it was a beautiful smile.

He shook his head to clear it from the absurd hopes which itched at the corners of his mind, taking another sip of his drink and determinedly avoiding Bull’s gaze. Perhaps it was time for him to start making coffee at home.

—

Cullen’s resolve to visit Shepard’s less lasted until 7 a.m. the following morning. During the final stretch of his commute he found his feet leading him into her shop of their own volition, and he would have been annoyed with himself if only he hadn’t been greeted with that smile.

“Morning!” Shepard called out as he entered. “So, have I converted you? Another latte?”

He’d made it halfway through his latte before it became too sweet for him, but he finished it regardless, not wanting to leave a half-finished mug behind. Still, he didn’t like her quite enough to keep ordering it. “Ah— no,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for the time being.”

“Really? Are you really going to break my heart like that?” He simultaneously wished she’d say more and less things like that, equally flustered and captivated by her casual flirtation, and it was that exact reason why he ought to spend less time around her. “Go on then, enlighten me: what didn’t you like about it?”

“I— will you be offended?”

“Depends if it’s the coffee or how I made it.”

“Well, I— the vanilla was a bit strong. And there was too much milk; I could barely taste the coffee.”

“So you actually like black coffee?” she asked. “Rather than you have no fu—uh, no clue what the others are?”

He chuckled at her last-minute recovery, eyeing the tip-slash-swear jar which grew fuller with each passing day. He couldn’t be certain what or who contributed the most to it, but from Hawke and Sera’s constant screeches of ‘jar!’ across the shop floor he had a fairly good idea. “It may be a bit of both,” he admitted.

She considered him for a long moment, seemingly deep in thought with her lips pursed and brow slightly furrowed, and he feared she was about to denounce him as a lost cause. “Alright,” she said just as the silence began to grow uncomfortable. “I know what we’ll do. I’ll give you your black coffee, but I get to experiment with different beans.”

“I like the ones you’ve been using.”

“Oh really?” she arched an eyebrow at him. “Which ones are they?”

“I…” he trailed off immediately, because of course he had no idea about the beans — and she knew it too, the corner of her mouth quirking up in amusement as he struggled not to seem a total fool. “The ones on the left?” he guessed, glancing at the large jars behind her.

“Nice try,” she told him. “I’ll figure out your roast first, then I’ll move onto the blends. But you’ll have to pay attention to what they actually taste like.”

“This sounds a lot like homework. I don’t think I signed up for this.”

“Well, too bad — I’m bored, and you’re cute when you make your little frowny face into your drink.” He somehow managed to choke on the air he was breathing, letting out an inelegant splutter as she broke into an impish grin, and he was now certain she was saying these things to solely to fluster him; he did his best to glare at her, yet that only seemed to spur him on. “That’s the one. Absolutely adorable.”

“Maker’s breath,” he grumbled, sure his whole face was bright red by this point. “I am going to stop coming here.”

“No you aren’t.”

He was going to protest, but he noticed for the first time a hint of blush creeping up her neck, and the way she idly fiddled with a loose strand of her hair — and, for a brief moment, he wondered if maybe her flirtation wasn’t malevolent after all. “No,” he agreed. “I’m not.”

She held his gaze for a fraction too long before breaking it, turning from him as she began to prepare his order, and for one flash of insanity he considered taking Bull’s advice after all. An offer of food outside her place of work was hardly a great commitment, and if the worst came to it he’d just have to avoid her, or perhaps relocate—

“So, how’s work coming along?”

She spoke before him, addressing him over her shoulder in her usual easy tone as she continued to work, and he winced internally as his chance firmly passed him by. But perhaps that was for the best. “Uh— good. Thank you.”

“I read your article the other day. About the new housing policies in Lowtown.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised — and more than a little pleased — that she’d gone to the effort. “What did you think?”

“I think you could’ve thrown in a few jokes.”

“It is a notoriously humorous subject.”

She chuckled, a soft sound that shot a renewed burst of affection through his chest, and how was it possible that he could be so enthralled by simply a laugh? “I actually found it interesting,” she told him. “And it was nice to hear about something good happening. Even if it sounds like it’ll take ages.” She turned back to him as she snapped the lid on his cup, scrawling his name — incorrectly, as always — on the side before he could make any sort of correction. “You’ve got a light roast today. It might not be… coffee-y enough for you, but you have to start somewhere.”

He smirked, unable to resist teasing her just this once. “Is that the technical term?”

“It’s the term I use for the dumbasses who can’t decipher the menu.”

His smirk widened. “Jar.”

She swore again, far more colourfully this time, thrusting a handful of coins into the pot before handing over his drink. He handed over his money in turn, but he hesitated on the spot before leaving, struck once more by that ridiculous urge to keep talking to her. “Thank you,” he said. “I — uh — I shall let know what I think the next time I come in.”

It sounded weak even to his ears, but to his surprise she didn’t seem to mind. “Don’t leave me waiting too long,” she told him, fixing him with a devastating smile.

He had to leave then, because if he stayed she was going to see him turn bright red again, and as he stepped into the sun and glanced at her scrawl on his cup he realised two things. First, that if she’d read his article, then she knew very well how to spell Cullen. And second, that he was completely and hopelessly enamoured with her.

—

The light roast was, as Shepard had predicted, not to Cullen’s taste, but he found the medium far more appealing; emboldened by her success she began experimenting with different blends, and Cullen looked forward to discovering what she had to offer each day. And he looked forward to seeing her, too. She laughed with him over the concoctions he’d hated, and teased him whenever he gave a particularly inept description of a blend, and she smiled at him, as always, with a sincere see you soon when he left.

He wasn’t foolish enough to presume that she treated him alone like this, or that it was anything other than a way for her to pass the time — and he knew, deep down, that how he felt would only cause him heartache in the end. Because it wasn’t just her smile, or laugh, or her beautiful, endless eyes; it was her, her very energy drawing him in with each word and action, and now he’d seen her he couldn’t bear to look away. And so he continued, with vague reassurances to himself that it remained simply a crush, despite knowing that to long be untrue.

He tried his best to avoid lunch with Bull, for he was invariably insufferable each time they set foot in Shepard’s, but there were some days he couldn’t escape it. On this particular one he’d roped Mr Trevelyan into his persuasion; not wanting to disappoint him, he dutifully followed them across the street and into the shop, hoping that Bull wouldn’t mock him too much in front of their boss.

Mercifully, Bull’s attention was distracted by the distinct lack of flatbreads on display, giving Cullen room to discuss his current projects with Trevelyan as he tried not to look at Shepard too often. Which, of course, he failed in. She’d styled her hair differently for once, her crimson hair free from its usual braid and instead piled into a messy bun, and whenever she turned the loose strands at her neck shone copper in the sunlight, drawing his attention back to her each time.

He really should have turned down lunch.

“Hey, Shep,” Bull greeted her as they reached the counter. “Where’s—”

“Don’t start with me,” she warned him, which was not her usual way of greeting her customers, but Cullen sensed she’d had this discussion with Bull more than once before. “I told you I’m not getting it anymore.”

“But—”

“Bull, no-one else buys that bread. You’ll just have to have a panini like everybody else.”

Bull made a noise of disapproval in the back of his throat, frowning at her selection of sandwiches as he muttered something vaguely insulting about customer service. “I got in something new for you,” she turned her attention to Cullen. “It’s a bit nuttier than the blends you’ve been having; I think you’ll like it.”

He was sure she hadn’t bought in anything specifically for him, but it made warmth bloom in his chest all the same, and he didn’t even try to prevent the undoubtedly dopey smile which broke across his face. “I would like that.”

“I see how it is,” Bull grumbled. “You get him fancy beans and my flatbread pays the price.”

“Yeah, well — he’s prettier than you are.” He didn’t even have time to react before she turned next to Trevelyan, which in a way was good, because he had no idea how to respond without stuttering like a fool. “Marcus?”

“Well, I like everything,” Trevelyan told her, offering her an amiable smile which she returned instantly.

“And that’s why you’re my favourite,” she replied, and Cullen tried his very best not to be irrationally jealous. “The usual, and…?”

“And…” he paused to consider the options in front of him. “The tuna melt, please.”

They waited patiently for their orders, Shepard chatting easily with them as they did, and when she handed Cullen his drink he rushed to hide the name she’d written on it from Trevelyan. Bull, however, seemed intent on ruining everyone’s day now his had been, and grinned malevolently at Cullen.

“Why are you holding your cup like that?”

Cullen glared at him as he took — what he intended to be — a nonchalant a sip of his drink. “I am not holding my cup like anything.”

“Yeah you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“What are you— oh,” Trevelyan laughed, craning his neck to see the side of the cup Cullen was desperately trying to hide from him. “Shepard, you’ve—”

If he hadn’t been his boss, Cullen might have kicked him to shut him up, but it was Bull who put a hand on his shoulder to silence him. “Hold it. Cullen’ll tell her.”

“Tell me what?”

“Nothing,” was Cullen’s knee-jerk reply, but he regretted it instantly, knowing that he’d gone far too long without correcting her — and that if he didn’t do it now then his boss would likely never respect him. “It’s just— it’s Cullen. My name.”

“I know,” Shepard told him. “That’s what I’ve been writing. Colon.”

“Cullen.”

“Colon.”

“Cullen.”

“Callum?”

Bull, whose shoulders had been shaking with silent laughter beside him, finally spoke at that, his voice full of barely-concealed glee. “Give it up, Shep. You lost.”

“You cheated,” she glared at him. “I’m not paying up.”

“I won’t make you pay if you get me my flatbread back.”

“Oh I’ll bring it back, but you’ll be fucking barred when I do.”

“Jar!” Hawke called out, pushing said jar towards her without even looking up from the drink he was making, and with two further curses Shepard threw a handful of coins in it.

“What’s going on here?” Cullen asked, realisation dawning on him as he took in Shepard’s decidedly shifty expression. “Did you bet that I wouldn’t—” he began, but his answer was clear in the way she looked everywhere except at him, and he felt as vindicated as he did embarrassed. “I knew you were doing this deliberately!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she held her hands up in surrender. “I run a terribly unprofessional establishment, although you probably should have realised that by now. Your coffee’s on me by way of apology.”

“Make it dinner, and I might consider forgiving you.”

He had absolutely no idea where that came from, the words leaving his mouth before he’d even started to think them, and he winced as the laughter in her eyes fell away. “I— forgive me,” he said, hurrying to backpedal before she banned him from her shop along with Bull. “That is— I shouldn’t— uh…”

But there was no outrage in her expression, only delight, and that faint blush he’d seen but a handful of times, and as his words faltered under her stare she filled the silence as always. “I close up at seven,” she told him. “I like that sushi place with the big fish tank.”

He blinked, once, as her words sank in, and he coughed to clear his suddenly-dry throat before replying. “I shall see you here at seven, then,” he told her in as level a voice as he could manage.

“See you then,” she grinned. “Cullen.”

He nodded to her and his colleagues before turning on his heel, keen to leave before she came to her senses, his heart beating a frantic tune as he strode back towards his office. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d done it, but somehow what he’d hoped for hadn’t been as impossible as he’d believed — and he might have thought he’d imagined it all, if it wasn’t for the cup of coffee grasped tightly in his hand.

He had a date with Shepard. And now he just had to figure out which sushi place she’d been talking about.

—

“So,” Bull said as the three of them watched Cullen march out of the shop. “I guess he’s not having lunch with us.”

“I guess not,” Marcus agreed. “That escalated… bizarrely.”

“Yeah,” Shepard said, unable to contain her grin at the sight of him hurrying away — and she hated that Bull had won their bet, but at least she didn’t have to hold back now. She couldn’t very well have called him Colon on a date. “I’m pretty sure I’m gonna fuck him.”

[Fic Masterpost]

#cullen x shepard #cullen x oc #coffee shop au #dragon age #mass effect #crossover #my writing #mollie shepard #this fic is essentially #cullen: the pretty lady sure is nice for helping me with the coffee #shepard ordering new beans at 2am: i better get laid out of this #Anonymous #oh wow so formatting on tumblr is an absolute nightmare huh

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psnowflake · 4 years ago

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Charades and a Drink (A Post-Frozen 2 ficlet)

Wrote this cause I really miss writing about fluff/angst. Doesn’t really have anything to do with my other fic. Just had the urge to write this prompt. Hope you guys enjoy it. May continue it. Idk. Link for the fic on ffn is here.

Charades.

This was the third round in a row where she had failed to obtain any points for her and Anna's team. She was bad at this game. She knew it. And seriously, three bouts in a row with no progress? She couldn't quite believe it herself.

But it wasn't her fault that she was so...distracted. It wasn't quite like last time when there was a melodious voice persistently invading her thoughts. This time it was something far more down to earth.

Kristoff was being more touchy with Anna than usual.

Not that it bothered her.

They were engaged now. It would make perfect sense if he wanted to be more forward.

It was just…

Ever since she returned from the enchanted forest earlier that morning, she couldn't help but focus on these details in their interactions.

And if she had to be perfectly honest, it made her feel...sad?

Jealous even?

She didn't quite understand it herself.

"Snow?! This one was so easy! It's basically the same thing as ice!" Anna complained as she reviewed the word that Elsa had been struggling with the entire round.

Anna wasn't mad at Elsa per se. She was just over competitive, and frankly she was tired of Olaf and Kristoff always winning. She really wanted to win at least once tonight.

"I'm sorry." Elsa apologized in embarrassment. "Maybe you should play without me. I'm really not good at these kinds of games. I'm sure one of the servants would be happy to join you if you asked."

"Elsa wait-"

"It's really not a big deal, Anna." She assured the younger girl. "I think you would have a lot more fun playing with Kai. I'll go get him real quick."

Elsa began heading for the door to go fetch the said servant, but not before Anna lunged off the couch to grab a hold of her arm.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to yell. I really don't care about winning or not. Just...please don't leave me." Anna wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged her tightly, and for a second Elsa swore she heard the younger girl whimper.

"I...okay, I won't leave." Elsa responded while patting the younger girl's head, but was then shocked to find that Anna really was crying. She swallowed suddenly, not sure what had gotten into the other girl, but she reached down to cup her sister's cheeks and caressed them softly.

"Hey." She said, bringing Anna's face close to hers so that their foreheads were touching. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Anna hiccuped and nodded, burying herself again into Elsa's chest.

Kristoff looked back and forth between the two of them.

"We'll give you two some alone time. Come on, guys." Kristoff got up and signaled for Sven and Olaf to follow.

"Wait...are you sure?" Elsa asked. "I didn't mean to take you guys away from your game…" She said guiltily.

"It's fine, Elsa. You two should really have the rest of the night to yourselves. Isn't that right, Olaf?"

"Yup! Me and Elsa definitely need some alone time together." The snowman joked, inching away cheekily from the ice harvester.

"Not quite on the mark there buddy." Kristoff said before dragging Olaf out of the room with him. The door shut behind them, and Elsa was left in the silence with Anna still cuddled up against her.

"Anna?" She rubbed the top of the girl's head gently.

"I missed you."

Elsa smiled softly at that. "I missed you too, sis."

It had merely been two weeks since she had decided to live away from the castle. Realistically, it shouldn't have been anything worth crying over, and it certainly paled in comparison to how long they had been apart from before.

But Elsa would be lying if she said she didn't miss home.

Some nights she found herself crying herself to sleep.

The living conditions had been rough. She wasn't used to not having servants around at all times, and not having meals prepared for her at the earliest convenience. It was different, and the comforting lifestyle that she had grown accustomed to was no longer present.

But the reason she had cried wasn't because of the change in living standards. Those factors were trivial, things she could adapt to, get used to.

The reason she had cried...it was because she didn't have moments like this anymore.

Moments with Anna.

It made more of a difference to her than she was willing to admit.

Can I really keep doing this?

She wrapped her arms tight around Anna, suddenly struck with the need to cheer up the younger girl's spirits as soon as possible.

"Do you want to sleep with me tonight?" Elsa proposed.

Anna looked up at her gratefully and nodded.

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

She wondered if it was really okay to be drinking wine at this hour, and in all honesty, she had never seen Anna drink before. Whether the younger girl was a lightweight remained an absolute mystery to her.

But Anna had proposed that they ask for a bottle. It was her first time back after all. And they were having such a good time in their room; sharing stories, making jokes, reminiscing on the past, Elsa didn't have the heart to reject her beloved sister's request.

So here they were now. Merely on their second glass, and Elsa was already starting to see the alcohol take effect on her poor lightweight Anna.

"Too much to drink? Already?" Elsa teased.

Anna pouted, her face flushed red, from the alcohol or embarrassment, Elsa couldn't tell anymore. "Jus because your perfect at everything, doesn't mean I a-am."

Elsa smiled softly. "I'm far from perfect, sis."

"You're perfect to me." Anna said before grabbing Elsa's waist from behind and cuddling up against her back.

Elsa chuckled, more or less endeared by the drunk display of affection.

"Well you should definitely work on that tolerance. It wouldn't be proper for a queen to act like this at formal occasions. You never know when other dignitaries will ask for a toast." She joked. Mostly.

Anna was quiet and still. Not responding to what she had said in the slightest.

Did she fall asleep?

"Anna?"

"I don't want to be queen."

It was so quiet, barely above a whisper that Elsa almost didn't make it out. But Anna's attitude had changed almost entirely from their previous exchange.

"What do you-"

"I don't want to be queen." She repeated.

Elsa blinked, taken aback, and then laughed softly, turning around and taking Anna's hand into her own. "I think you've had enough to drink for the night. All that wine has you thinking out of sorts."

But Anna wouldn't back down apparently, not after opening up as much as she had. Before Elsa had time to react, Anna was pushing Elsa onto the floor so that she was on top.

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat at their position. "Anna-"

She felt Anna's hands come down to caress both sides of her face, gently, as if she were an art sculpture that could break at a moment's notice. She was so close, their noses almost touching, and Elsa could clearly make out the precise shade of teal in Anna's eyes. She was suddenly filled with a strange desire to close the distance between them in some way.

But Anna was crying again, silently, tears streaking down her cheeks to eventually fall onto her own pale skin. Elsa could do nothing but remain silent and watch, praying that the tears weren't there because of her.

But that was unlikely.

"Why did you push me away?"

Elsa's eyes went wide.

"What?"

"You said we would be together didn't you? So why...why do you still feel so far away?"

The question struck deep within her soul, forcing Elsa to confront the issue that she herself had been admittedly running away from.

Why was she always running?

Why was Anna always crying?

Strangely enough, she found herself trying to answer Anna's question. Maybe the wine was starting to get to her too.

"I-I dont know." She admitted. "I thought that you deserved it. To be queen, I mean. And...you just got engaged. I thought it was the right timing for something like this."

"And...and I'm the fifth spirit." She continued half heartedly. "I should be out there...in the forest. That's where I belong."

Anna stared at her sternly.

"Do you really believe that?"

Did she?

Of course not. But it was something that she had lied about before, and it would've been better if she just lied about it again.

Yet for some odd reason, she couldn't bring herself to say it this time.

"I-"

"Do you love me?"

What?

"O-of course I do."

Anna leaned in close, to the point where Elsa could feel the younger girl's breath fanning over her cheeks.

Her heart stopped at Anna's next words.

"Do you want to be with me?"

Elsa found herself trapped under Anna's earnest gaze. Yet her mind was clear, and the answer held there was without a doubt how she really felt.

She nodded.

"Then stay…" Anna whispered. "Stay with me Elsa."

"Because I can't live another day without you."

A heartbeat.

And then...

Anna inched forward and kissed her.

Elsa was frozen. Shocked.

But to her own growing surprise, a single thought dominated in her conscience.

Her lips are warm.

Slowly but surely…

Elsa kissed back.

A minute passed before they broke away together. Anna leaned back, staring into Elsa's eyes. Nothing was said between them, and nothing needed to be in that moment, until Anna finally brought her head down and rested it against the older girl's chest.

Elsa's heart was beating rapidly. Faster than she had ever experienced before. Faster than she probably wanted.

Words were threatening to leave her lips, and she wanted so badly to just let herself be open.

So badly for once in her life to put her guard down.

And so she did.

"I love you, Anna." She choked out tearfully. "So much that it scares me. I don't know what to do anymore." She admitted.

Anna remained silent, and so Elsa continued.

"But I do know that whatever happens, I want to be together with you. I should've never pushed you away…"

"And I'm sorry."

"Will you forgive me?"

Elsa waited for a response, but again Anna said nothing.

Was Anna still mad at her?

But then she heard it, a deep rhythmic breathing, serene, puffing gently against her chest.

Anna had fallen asleep.

Elsa stared, mouth agape at the resting form of her sister. Had she been talking to herself? And for how long? Embarrassment flooded her cheeks to a dark shade of red.

She really is a lightweight.

Steering herself, Elsa gathered Anna into her arms from the floor and gently brought her to her bed, pulling back the sheets, and tucking the younger girl in.

She sat there next to her. Her thoughts to herself, and her mind simply trying to wrap around everything that had happened in the past hour. Eventually, she laid down next to Anna and stared up at the ceiling.

Her tiredness got the better of her, and Elsa found her eyes slowly shutting, submitting to the gentle lull of sleep.

But moments before sleep consumed her, a thought made its way to the forefront of her mind.

The truth.

I want to kiss her again.

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

Elsa found Anna the next morning in the dining hall.

"Morning Els!" Anna smiled cheerfully.

"M-morning." Elsa replied shyly. She wasn't exactly sure what to expect from this conversation, but Anna's cheerfulness must've meant that things were okay right? She decided to go along with it. "I'm surprised to see you awake before me for once."

"I know right. I must've gone to bed really early last night."

Anna's words gave her pause.

"Y-you don't remember?" Elsa asked.

"Remember what?" Elsa's shocked expression made Anna gasp in realization. "Oh no. Did I drink again?"

"Y-yeah…"

"Oh god, I didn't do anything stupid did I?" Anna laughed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry if I did, I never remember anything after I drink. I really need to stay away from the wine."

"Nothing happened." Elsa lied. "I just...I'm surprised that you don't remember anything…"

Surprised was selling it short.

Disappointed.

Heartbroken.

Anna must've noticed her change in expression. "Elsa? You okay?"

She really wasn't okay.

She was surprised herself, just how disappointed she felt.

What did you expect? That something would come out of this?

Of course she wouldn't remember. She was drunk for Christ's sake.

Why would you get this excited from an accidental kiss with your sister?

You're sick.

There's something wrong with you.

Her inner thoughts tormented her, to the point where she had the immediate urge to cry, but on the outside she forced a thin smile, an act that she had practiced for years to a near perfection.

Elsa hated doing it.

She absolutely hated lying to Anna.

"I'm fine."

But old habits died hard.

Especially when you were in love with your sister.

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

"Anna!"

Kristoff found her in the halls of the castle. She had just returned from seeing Elsa off at the docks.

"Did Elsa already leave?" Kristoff asked.

"Mhm. I just saw her off."

"Ah bummer. Wish I could've said bye to her at least."

"It's okay." She said cheerfully. "She'll be back before you know it."

Wistfully, she turned her attention to the window, staring out at the fjord, wondering if she could see Elsa riding on Nokk from all the way up here.

"You miss her already, don't you?"

"Hm?" Anna perked up. "I'm okay. I mean I have you here after all!"

Kristoff smiled at the gesture, and leaned down to capture Anna's lips in a kiss.

They stayed that way until Anna broke away first. She smiled politely up at him afterwards.

"I have some work I need to get done. I'll meet up with you later, okay?"

Kristoff nodded, and she made her way around the corner of the halls where she wouldn't be seen.

Once she was out of sight she pressed her back against the wall and fell to the floor.

She tried to forget it. If she could lie to Elsa about it, then surely she could lie to herself.

But love wasn't something so easily forgotten.

Throughout the entirety of her kiss with Kristoff, she had only thought of one thing.

She wanted to kiss Elsa again.

#elsanna #elsanna fanfiction #elsanna ficlet #frozen #frozen 2 #idk

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whats-rambled-rambled · 4 years ago

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Stuck in reverse - playlist

You can find it on Spotify here.

Okay, let’s talk about it!

Sam Smith – Fix you

I remember crying to the original song (by Coldplay) back in 2005. Whoo boy, lots of teenage feelings!

I’m not the biggest fan of Sam Smith’s music, but one day I was just driving home from work and this song began playing on the radio and by the end of it I could barely see the road.

// When you try your best, but you don’t succeed When you get what you want, but not what you need When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep Stuck in reverse And the tears come streaming down your face When you lose something you can’t replace When you love someone, but it goes to waste Could it be worse? //

That one line – stuck in reverse – felt just so perfect for a story set in the universe where people invert themselves back and forth.

It became one of the three main songs that inspired me to write the whole damn thing, and also the only title in the story that is not a title of a song as well.

Chapter 1: Ben Platt – Ease my mind

This is one of the songs I have on my daily playlist, I just love it, and the lyrics are so fitting:

//Most days I wake up with a pit in my chest There are thoughts that I can’t put to rest There’s a worry that I can’t place

Most nights, I am restless and quiet won’t come So I lay there and wait for the sun There’s a trouble that won’t show its face

You came out of nowhere and you cut through all the noise I make sense to the madness when I listen to your voice//

We learn more about the nightmares in the next chapters, but it all starts here. That melancholic vibe stuck with me for the rest of the story I guess.

Bonus song: Lewis Capaldi - Before you go

The combat scene in one song, or at least what I imagined was going through Reader’s mind at that point.

//I fell by the wayside like everyone else I hate you, I hate you, I hate you but I was just kidding myself Our every moment, I start to replace ‘Cause now that they’re gone, all I hear are the words that I needed to say When you hurt under the surface Like troubled water running cold Well, time can heal but this won’t//

Have you ever felt that way? Trying to hide your broken heart under anger? I don’t know, it just resonated deeply.

The second part of the song kinda seeped into the next chapter:

//Was there something I could’ve said To make your heart beat better? If only I’d have known you had a storm to weather

//Would we be better off by now If I’d have let my walls come down? Maybe, I guess we’ll never know//

Chapter 2: Kaleo - I can’t go on without you

Another song from my daily playlists (side note – I saw Kaleo once live on a music festival and they were mind-blowing, you should really check out more of their work).

It worked with the story because of its desperate and painful mood.

Bonus: Calum Scott - Dancing on my own

Holy shit, I FELT this one. (Been there, done that). Of course I had to write it into Reader’s past. Actually, I wrote it first and then found the song, but it doesn’t matter, that’s the flashback scene right here:

//Somebody said you got a new friend Does she love you better than I can? And there’s a big black sky over my town I know where you’re at, I bet she’s around And yeah, I know it’s stupid But I just gotta see it for myself I’m in the corner, watching you kiss her, I’m right over here, why can’t you see me? And I’m giving it my all //

Chapter 3: Billie Eilish – Bad guy

No feels, pure bop. This song is so BADASS, I really needed to get that vibe into the undercover mission, I didn’t want Reader to be an emotional mess and nothing else, you know?

Bonus: Tones and I – Dance Monkey

I shit you not, I’ve had that one on repeat for the dance scene. There is something incredibly seductive in that beat, I just couldn’t get it out of my head.

Bonus: Kings of Leon – Closer

It just makes my heart clench and leaves me breathless.

Chapter 4: Ben Platt – Bad habit

Ah, that was the moment when I cursed at myself for using Ease my mind for chapter 1, but we already talked about it.

Even though this song is very emotional, it’s not that heartbreaking, you can hear a faint smile here and there and it just makes my heart sing.

And oh my god, those lyrics:

//You always said that I’d come back to you again ‘Cause everybody needs a friend, it’s true Someone to quiet the voices in my head Make ‘em sing to me instead, it’s you Hate to say that I love you Hate to say that I need you Hate to say that I want you But I do Bad habit, I know But I’m needin’ you right now Can you help me out? Can I lean on you? Been one of those days Sun don’t wanna come out Can you help me out? Can I lean on you?//

They just work with that plot, you know?

Bonus: Dodie – Sick of losing soulmates

Another song that just resonates with the story.

//What a strange being you are, God knows where I would be If you hadn’t found me, sitting all alone in the dark A dumb screenshot of youth Watch how a cold broken teen Will desperately lean on a superglued human of proof

What the hell would I be, without you (what the hell would I be) Brave face talk so lightly, hide the truth (hide the truth)

'Cause I’m sick of losing soulmates, so where do we begin I can finally see, you’re as fucked up as me So how do we win?//

Chapter 5: Adele – Someone like you

The whole damn sunset scene + this song on repeat = feels

The pain in her voice? God, it just reduces me to a puddle of tears.

Reader could just sing it at some point to Neil almost word for word.

Bonus: Passenger – Let her go

Okay, the case of that one is quite funny, because I kinda needed to figure out how to get from point A to point B of the chapter, and I was browsing Spotify looking for „campfire songs” or something like that. Of course I’ve heard this one before, but I’ve never actually focused on the lyrics.

And oh boy, suddenly it all became clear.

Headcanon time – in my head, Wheeler and Neil are close friends, she treats him a bit like a younger brother, I just can imagine they know each other very well at that point. Of course she knows hows about his past. Of course she heard about Reader. And she thinks they are both silly babies and they should just kiss, right? That’s why she chooses that song.

Those lyrics – they fit Neil’s backstory so damn well.

//Only know you love her when you let her go

And you let her go//

And he was stupid enough to let her go. Because his timing was off.

Those lyrics are also perfect to make Reader think about his ex-girlfriend, because of course that is what you’re gonna it’s all about.

Bonus: Del Amitri – Tell her this

Ahh, there it is – the second out of three main songs for Stuck in Reverse.

I remember the moment I found out that Rob Pattinson sings and writes music, then I listened to some of the songs and my heart went whoooosh. So I just had to make Neil play a guitar, I just needed to find out what song would be The One.

Do you remember that flashback about them both watching a tv show on his couch? Here, you’re welcome.

I recently started rewatching Scrubs and when I got to that episode – ding, ding, ding!

This is the ultimate “hey, I fucked up, I shouldn’t have let you go, I’m an idiot and I love you.”

Chapter 6: Imagine Dragons – Next to me

I adore that song. It warms my heart. I think it fits Neil and Reader’s relationship.

And I needed all the fluffy feelings to switch the tone of the story to something lighter.

Bonus: Michelle Branch – Everywhere

This one is a silly bop, and it always puts me in a good mood. A nice song to listen to when you are happy, in love, and you are making breakfast.

Bonus: Ashlee Simpson – Pieces of me

This one (same as the one before) came to me from Zach Braff’s workout playlist, haha. I mean I almost forgot about it, but it makes me smile every time I hear it, and the lyrics work nicely:

//On a Monday I am waiting Tuesday I am fading And By Wednesday I can’t sleep Then the phone rings I hear you And the darkness is a clear view Cause you’ve come to rescue me

Fall, with you I fall so fast I can hardly catch my breath I hope it lasts

It seems like I can finally Rest my head on something real I like the way that feels It’s as if you know me better Than I ever knew myself I love how you can tell All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me//

Bonus: Kaleo – I want more

Is there such a thing as a warm melancholy? Because that is a vibe I get from that song.

//Turn back, leave all you had Forgive, I’ll forget 'Cause what we need is what we once had Time won’t stand still Just say you will 'Cause I need you there and now

If you leap, I’ll come falling too Running deep 'til that rivers through I don’t mind what you have to do 'Cause I won’t think less, less of you

Yes, I want more, more Looking for more I want more, more 'Cause I want more

Old grounds Feels like the weight has been lifted away So don’t you leave me there wanting more//

Chapter 7: Ben Platt – In case you don’t live forever

I mean it’s not my fault that Ben’s songs make me FEEL things, damn it.

The whole damn song = utter heartbreak when you think about Neil coming back to Reader before he goes back to Stalsk-12 to open that damn lock.

//I, I’ve carried this song in my mind Listen, it’s echoing in me But I haven’t helped you to hear it We, we’ve only got so much time I’m pretty sure it would kill me If you didn’t know the pieces of me are pieces of you

I’ve waited way too long to say Everything you mean to me

In case you don’t live forever, let me tell you now I love you more than you’ll ever wrap your head around In case you don’t live forever, let me tell you the truth I’m everything that I am because of you//

Bonus: Charlene Soraia – Wherever you will go

Why am I doing this to you? Because we all like pain.

This one is for the scene on the deck:

//So lately, been wondering Who will be there to take my place When I’m gone you’ll need love to light the shadows on your face If a great wave shall fall and fall upon us all Then between the sand and stone, could you make it on your own

If I could, then I would I’ll go wherever you will go Way up high or down low, I’ll go wherever you will go

And maybe, I’ll find out A way to make it back someday To watch you, to guide you through the darkest of your days If a great wave shall fall and fall upon us all Then I hope there’s someone out there who can bring me back to you//

Bonus: Rhys Lewis – No right to love you

No light, only pain and suffering.

//'Cause I have no right to love you When I chose to walk away I have no right to miss you When I didn’t wanna stay And I have no right to need you And I knew what my heart was gonna lose I have no right to love you But I do, I still do Yeah, I still do//

Bonus: Knox Brown x Gallant – Reignite

This song is just so incredible, it makes my palms sweat and my mind going places. Yep, it was on repeat.

Oh you know which scene this one is for.

Bonus: Freya Ridings – Lost without you

The last dialogue. On repeat. Because this song breaks my heart and leaves me a sobbing mess.

//Strangers rushin’ past Just tryna get home But you were the only Safehaven that I’ve known Hits me at full speed Feel like I can’t breathe And nobody knows This pain inside me My world is crumbling I should never Let you go I think I’m lost without you//

(OI, SPOILERS)

Chapter 8: Florence + The Machine – Never let me go

I have only one thing to say:

Fuck you, Nolan.

Third out of three.

//And it’s over and I’m going under

But I’m not giving up I’m just giving in

Oh, slipping underneath So cold and so sweet

In the arms of the ocean, so sweet and so cold And all this devotion, well, I never knew at all And the questions I have for a sinner released In the arms of the ocean deliver me

(Never let me go, never let me go Never let me go, never let me go)//

Bonus: Sasha Sloan - Dancing with your ghost

Suffer with me.

//Yelling at the sky Screaming at the world Baby, why’d you go away? I’m still your girl Holding on too tight Head up in the clouds Heaven only knows Where you are now

How do I love How do I love again? How do I trust How do I trust again?

I stay up all night Tell myself I’m alright Baby, you’re just harder to see than most I put the record on Wait 'til I hear our song Every night I’m dancing with your ghost Every night I’m dancing with your ghost//

#stuck in reverse playlist #stuck in reverse #bts stuck in reverse #im gonna make yall suffer with me

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zahra-kha · 3 years ago

Text

Dear Diary 36

I’ve written in you less and less of late. This makes for less of a chronicle of my life if I don’t write in you diligently doesn’t it? Well, to be honest, I don’t feel like I need to remember every detail of my life. Especially with everything that’s been going on lately.

However, not all of it has been dark spots. Some of it has been grey, some of it has been bright. I’ve been wading myself through uncharted territory and I can’t say I’ve always made the best or correct decisions but I’m also not perfect.

I wrote in my previous entry that I didn’t know what I was supposed to do now that my troupe was...the way it was. I didn’t know what my purpose was here in Eorzea. If I’m honest with myself, I’m still not entirely sure. I’m frightened, nervous, and there are times when I feel alone. The people who I thought were my support - it’s a mystery if they ever really cared about me (which I’ll get into in a bit) - turned out to be a source of immense pain. I’m trying to recover from that but I wish I could explain to people how difficult that is. How hard it is to trust again when family betrays you.

There’s insecurities there that weren’t before. When I spoke to Sid, I initially told him that it probably wouldn’t make a difference if I left to return home, because everyone had their lives and everyone would eventually move on with their lives. I said that, but I didn’t really mean that. To be honest, I was just scared. It’s easier to leave than to be abandoned, easier to walk away than learn later you were never wanted or needed. Easier to pull away than get rejected.

But my whole life I’ve been running. I walk forward so I can run from something that’s been chasing me. I felt like this time if I moved forward, without looking back on what I’d gained, I’d lose something really precious. And I felt like something in me would break and never recover.

I spoke with Sid for a while at the Bojza camp - it was helpful. I wasn’t looking for answers, I don’t think I was. Maybe just some clarity from my chaotic thoughts. It was easy to talk to him. He was kind and patient with me as I rambled. He didn’t try to push me in any direction, and I was grateful. I wanted to know a bit more about him, I felt maybe he understood a bit of what I was feeling. I thought maybe if I understood him, it’d help guide me to a decision. Was that selfish? Writing that down, it almost sounds as if I was using his feelings and experiences. But I also genuinely wanted to know more about him. I think he’s an interesting person that carries a profound sadness, but it also seems he’s managed to find happiness and a sense of purpose.

That’s what I want, a sense of purpose again. Sid wondered if maybe what I’m searching for is what I lost - my family. I conceded that maybe that was it. But I’m just so hesitant in calling another group family again after what happened. I spent half my life with those people, and none of it was real. I loved them, but I was just a means to an end for them.

It would break me, shatter me beyond repair, if I fell into that trap again with everyone currently in my life.

I want to, I so badly want to believe and trust in them. They’ve been there for me, they’ve helped me, healed me. Cared for me during this whole ordeal. Hells, they have bled for my sake. And of course, I have not hesitated to jump into the fires for them as well. But that’s completely different from fully giving my heart. I just...can’t. I’m trying, but every time it’s like something cold and hard grabs hold of my throat and claws down, screaming I’m a fool. Fear consumes me, and I feel as if I’m drowning.

For now, I’m just content to be here. Sid helped me organize my thoughts and realize my path lies here. I want to heal here, and be around the friends who have shown me care. I want to relearn how to believe in true bonds again. I want to walk forward and see where the road takes me, and I don’t want to be afraid - I don’t want to do it alone.

That’s what I’ve decided.

I managed to tell Quin (Leo?) a bit of this, I hope I didn’t worry him too much. I was a bit under the weather when the truth came out, I’d been shot on the battlefield and was recovering - but it was a good talk. It’s amazing, when I first met Quin, I don’t think I had a good impression of him, and I don’t think he had any real impression of me. Now I think of him as a silly little brother.

Speaking of, Quin and Erith got fake married! That was...interesting? I probably should have done more to stop it but it wasn’t official so I didn’t really see the harm. Uh, save for Erith putting Quin at shotgun point. I don’t know, I don’t really like getting between their dynamics because they have a really unique relationship but it’s quite clear they deeply care for one another. So I just go with their antics. Should I though? Am I enabling bad behavior? [There’s a drawing of a dizzy Zahra along the margins]

I wonder if festivals bring out romance? There were quite a few couples seeking blessings and marriages, so I guess maybe they do? Erith was looking for a husband for Bernon so there was that. I didn’t really know how to feel about it. Not really lonely? Wistful, maybe? I can’t say I’m looking for a profound relationship, but I think having someone to laugh with and share small moments with would be nice.

Maybe...not quite the same as what Erith and Quin have. Being at shotgun point is frightening. I completely understand why Quin started drinking. Heavily.

I’m rambling, but my mind has been all over the place. I’m avoiding talking about what’s really going on in my head because I’m not sure if writing this down, reliving it, will be easy.

I’m talking about my confrontation with Sahrin.

I don’t know what I was expecting when I demanded answers from him. I think I was expecting him to explain why Sai did what she did. I was hoping he’d smile at me and tell me everything was a misunderstanding, or that they’d been acting on their own accord and he hadn’t know anything.

I didn’t mind Gail putting pressure on him - she understands what it means to be a leader, and how hard it can be to have people do things behind your back, and the heavy responsibility that leadership entails.

I also realize what I’d done to him - I appeared out of no where and threatened him into a meeting right after he’d seen everything he’d built up burned to the ground. Of course he was confused, of course he wanted answers. I’d given him nothing. I’m sure he tried to look into it on his own, but he likely didn’t get very far since he’d been gone so long deal with Armand and was unaware of all that’d been going on.

No one is omniscient, but I wasn’t entirely in a caring mood. People I had once cared about deeply had tried to kill me more than once - I was tired.

Father once told me that there are always two sides to a story, and what you know is always just a small part of a whole. He said it’s always good to know and understand the full picture of things, but never let that knowledge influence how the ending needs to be written. And if I can help it, I should always be the one holding the quill to those short chapters in my life.

Sahrin told us about Sai and Esila, and then he told us about the foundation of the troupe and what its original purpose had been. The first troupe they’d all been in - I knew they had worked for the government covertly, doing their bidding under the belief they were serving their nation. Even if it was unpleasant, someone has to do it.

Sahrin and the others felt the troupe wasn’t looking at the real threat - the Empire. And I suppose I can understand their fear. With the way the empire was expanding, the idea that Thavnair would have remained a free nation forever was questionable at best. The Empire wanted to be a world power, once they’d conquered all they’d truly desired, why not take Thavnair too? Would we had really been able to stop them, if they had truly put their forces to it?

"We’ll be on their list eventually.” was a legitimate fear. It was one I’d heard on the lips of some nobles and commoners growing up. Not everyone liked the Empire in Thavnair. Not everyone felt the arrangement we had was beneficial. For all the ones who welcomed them for business and trade, there were those who feared them.

I guess Sahrin had been one of those people. He’d become frustrated with his troupe and decided to form his own. Except he couldn’t be normal about it, no. He took others who had anti-Imperial sentiment and they all decided they were going to bring in children to train and raise them - and by raise I mean brainwash - into perfect anti-Imperial fighting tools.

I cannot express the emotions I went through upon hearing that.

I mean, yes, it’s preferable to bring children into a troupe’s fold because it’s easier to train a dancer when they’re younger, more flexible, and their minds retain things easier, than to start them when they’re much older. I’m going to try and give them the benefit of the doubt and hope that’s what they - no, what Sahrin was thinking when he started this. I don’t want to think of Sahrin as a bad person. There’s just a part of me that refuses to do that.

But I can’t...forgive him for creating the troupe with those intentions. It really doesn’t matter that ‘he grew a conscious’ with me and changed his mind. Congratulations, I guess? Maybe one day when I’m not feeling so angry I’ll send him a cookie for deciding not to be quite the terrible person he could have been.

Okay. I’m feeling petty. And angry. And hurt. But his admission ripped the floor of my reality right out from under me. I admired him, looked up to him - I had wanted to be like him. I had wanted to grow up and eventually be a role model to others because of him. And then to learn all of that had been based on a foundation of lies - that I had initially been nothing more than a tool for his ambitions...

Even if he had changed his mind, clearly the others hadn’t, and that hurts. And he knew that. He’d known and I guess had been trying to change them. But you can’t change people who actively choose to hate - even if they feel their cause is righteous. There is a right way to go about change, and using - hurting - children is not it.

Sahrin helped us decipher some of the letters, and it honestly made a bit more sense when he put them into perspective. It looks like Esila really was trying to sell me out to some guy named ‘Darling’. I don’t know why he wanted me so badly, but apparently, Cecilia was getting traded to Sabe, and I was gonna get sold off in some auction had everything gone well. In exchange, I guess they were going to get their audience with Orhan and incriminate Sahrin. Sahrin guesses this was all to get a connection back to the old troupe.

They wanted a way back to the old troupe so they lied, cheated, and were even willing to kill to do it. The warmth, smiles, all of those good times we had were all fake.

I was at a loss of what to believe in. I felt like an idiot for falling for their schemes for so long. I should have seen it - hadn’t I grown up surrounded by scheming adults? I should have known better by now.

I told Sahrin I never wanted to see him again, and then after that the rest of the night was a bit of a blur. I know everyone came back to my apartment. I served them drinks and sandwiches. I wanted to make sure Quin was okay. Outside of that, I don’t remember much. They left and I remember taking Bitey and Fènghuáng away. I still haven’t gone back to the kennel to pick them up.

I went back to my apartment and I just...suddenly I hated everything about it. It reminded me of home, of my troupe - and everything went white, then red. My heart felt heavy and my eyes burned. I think I screamed. I know I cried. And then I fled. I ran and ran and ran. Until my legs turned to rubber and my lungs screamed and I fell down...somewhere. I didn’t recognize the surroundings. I think I was around a lot of trees and sand. I just know the breeze felt good against my skin, and the grass was cool and comforting.

I cried, an ugly, gulping, gut wrenching cry - until there wasn’t anything left. And then I sat back against the cliffs and stared up at the sky until the sun rose. I didn’t want to return to the apartment, so I didn’t.

And then the next day I went and dyed my hair black. I need to find some white clothing, to mark the passing of the troupe, my family, and for Esila. The Esila I knew and loved - not the one who wanted to trade me to I guess slavers. The woman I had known to be a good person.

I will mourn her death, because she had lived, and she had brought me joy, even if it had been made of lies.

#ic #zahra kouris #zahra kha

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theotherackerman · 3 years ago

Text

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

NOTES: January 2nd, Saturday

chapter six: the long way home

Levi saw the notification as he was still holding Mikasa’s phone.

He thought about erasing it for a moment but thought it wasn’t fair to Mikasa. She was an adult now, she had to make her own choices.

Besides, Levi hadn't been perfect in relationships when he was her age.

He would give the Jaeger boy this second chance but if Eren hurt Mikasa again, he would bury him where no one would find him.

No matter what Mikasa said.

He walked over to Mikasa and handed her the phone.

“Make whatever decision you’ll regret least, “ he told her before walking away.

Mikasa was confused about what Levi had said to her until she looked down at her phone. She had a text from Eren. Suddenly, she became very aware of her lyrics. The song was about Eren, there was no doubt about it.

“Do you see all these followers we have now? Look, the band’s instagram is blowing up! We didn’t even livestream from that one!” Sasha exclaimed, pulling her from her thought.

“We didn’t but it looks like someone posted the video Niccolo sent you on his band’s Instagram,” Annie said as she turned her phone around. “He tagged the band and all of us in it.”

The Restorationists would like to introduce @NoName to their biggest fans. Great song! Looking forward to your next livestream! Who thinks we should collaborate with this awesome girl band? @potatogirlsasha @ladyymirlangnar @historia_reiss @femaleleonhart @ackerman_mikasa

PING! Mikasa’s phone went off again. She looked down at the screen.

TXT FROM EREN JAEGER (2)

Eren had sent her two texts.

Did he watch?

What did he think of the song?

What if he hated it?

What if he thought the whole band was a joke?

Would the lyrics she wrote make him mad and not want to tell her the truth?

"I don't know about you but I'm exhausted," Connie said as he stretched.

"Really? I'm running on a post concert high!" Sasha exclaimed.

"It wasn't even a concert. It was one song!"

"Why do you have to ruin my fun, Connie? It was good and you know it!”

“I never said it wasn’t good. I just said that it was only one song.”

“You two argue like a married couple,” Ymir pointed out.

“We do not!” Connie and Sasha said at the exact same time.

“I’m with Connie though, I’m exhausted,” Jean chimed in.

BOOM!

Thunder cracked through the sky.

“Great, that’s all going to freeze on the driveway again,” Levi pointed out as he sat down on the couch. Sawney crawled up into his lap.

“I really don’t want to drive in that,” Connie said. “Levi….”

“Fine,” Levi answered already knowing what Connie was going to ask.

“And you say you don’t miss them,” Hange remarked as they picked up Bean from the floor.

Mikasa’s phone felt like it was burning in her hand. She wanted to look, she really did. However, she did not want to see the messages in front of everyone.

It would have to wait.

Eren could wait.

A few hours later, it had become an acceptable time to go to sleep. Mikasa excused herself from her friends and disappeared into her bedroom.

She finally clicked on the notification that sat on her home screen.

Eren Jaeger:

Nice song. I mean that. You’ve always been really good with lyrics. I’m still trying to get to your

level.

Eren Jaeger:

The bridge was my favorite. You should sing more.

Oh.

So he had heard then.

What did she even say to that?

Thanks for breaking my heart so we could get some of the best songs we’ve ever written?

No, that sounded stupid.

Why was it so hard to talk to Eren now?

Why was it so awkward?

Oh right.

Because he had gone and ruined everything because he thought she was going to run away from him.

She could write songs about her break ups, her friends’ break ups, and compose lyrics that exposed her soul for all to see.

Yet she could come up with a single reply to Eren’s text?

She wanted to chuck her phone at the wall in frustration.

She felt filled with rage again.

Why was she so damn angry anymore?

She knew why.

All of her problems led back to Eren.

She heard Armin tell everyone downstairs that he was also going to bed.

Mikasa took this moment to step out of her room.

“I need your help,” she said as she grabbed Armin’s arm and pulled him into her room.

She explained everything: the kiss at the club, the meeting at the graveyard, the song that she had written to lines with Eren in the moment, the DUI Eren had, going back to Eren’s house, the kiss at his house,how she had told Eren that Eren needed to go explain everything to her and Armin, the awkward conversation with Zeke at Eren’s house, and finally, she showed him the text messages.

When she was finished, Armin spoke.

“He doesn’t need to explain anything to me.”

“What? Armin, he hit you.”

“Only because I hit him first. That was only because of what he was saying to you. I stopped speaking to Eren because of you. He was hurting someone I love, I wanted to put an end to it. You would do the same if I said those things to Annie or if Annie said those things to me. You’re the one he needs to explain everything to, not me. If he tells you and you forgive him, I will forgive him too.”

Leave it to Armin to make her feelings into something logical. He wasn’t wrong though.

“What do I do then?”

“Whatever you want to do, Mikasa. It’s not up to any of us.”

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

Ymir loved Historia, more than she could ever express in words. She was actually really bad with words and she didn’t know how to get better at them. Her jealousy was a large part of her problems. Maybe it was because she had waited so long to confess her feelings to Historia. She had to sit there, watching the woman she loved date other people.

It was 1:00 am when she left her room. She had given up on trying to sleep for the time being. It wasn’t like they had had anything planned for the following day anyway. She should have been tired seeing as how they had started moving at 7:00 am on the previous day.

But sleep evaded her.

When she made her way downstairs, she saw Mikasa sitting in the sunroom. Mikasa’s headphones were plugged into the keyboard. Ymir watched as she played for a moment before going over and lifting the headphones off of Mikasa.

This caused Mikasa to jump, Ymir laughed.

“What are you doing up?” Mikasa asked as she removed her headphones completely.

“Couldn’t sleep. You?”

“I couldn’t either,” she responded before handing Ymir her phone.

There were two text messages from Eren on it.

“So are you going to reply?” Ymir asked before she handed the phone back.

Mikasa shrugged, “I’m not sure what to say. So I came here to write but none of the lyrics make sense. They’re all just....words.”

“Lyrics tend to be words, you know?”

Mikasa glared at her.

“Do you ever think you’re overthinking it? I mean, there’s not much being said there. He likes your lyrics, he likes your voice. Just say thank you and be done with it, simple enough?” Ymir asked as she sat down on the piano bench next to Mikasa.

“Do you think I should give him a second chance?”

Ymir shrugged, “that’s something you have to answer for yourself.”

“Would you?”

Ymir paused, wondering if her and Historia were in the same situation if she would forgive her.

The answer was simple, she would.

If Historia said awful things to her, then explained, she would forgive her.

Her love for Historia never had strings attached.

It had been unconditional.

She knew Mikasa was the same way with Eren.

She had seen the pain she knew too well when they had gone to high school together. She had seen how Mikasa longed to be the one dancing with Eren just like how she had longed to be the one dancing with Historia.

“I’d make him explain. Then go from there but staying up all night, that’s not going to help you. Go to sleep, wake up tomorrow with a clear head.”

Mikasa simply nodded before she turned off the keyboard.

Ymir sat in the sunroom for a moment.

She really should have taken her own advice.

She should go to bed and wake up tomorrow with a clear head.

So Ymir went back to bed.

After about twenty minutes of tossing and turning, Ymir got out of bed. She went into Mikasa’s room and collapsed on the empty side of Mikasa’s bed.

“Still can’t sleep?” Mikasa asked her.

“No, you?”

“No.”

“We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

Mikasa laughed. “We’re the same.”

“Why do we keep sacrificing our happiness for others? Why can’t I just tell her what I’m feeling and that I hate that she left for a few days? That I hate how easy it is for her to throw everything away. Why did I let her just brush my feelings off as a joke and continue acting like they were a joke all of high school? That I proposed marriage so many times as a joke but I was being serious? I want to marry her. I want a stupid white picket picket fence surrounding a stupid house where we live happily married. Why can't I just tell her that? Why can't I just say you hurt me and I don't think you want me as much as I want you?"

“Because you know it’ll hurt her too.”

Ymir grabbed the pillow from behind her head and smothered her own face with it.

“We’re stupid,” Ymir mumbled.

“That we are. Goodnight, Ymir.”

“Goodnight, Mika.”

#mmtylif #My writing

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