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chelseypprimrose · 1 year

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I Dare You / Negan X Reader / pre apocalypse

Summary: A game of drunken truth or dare turns into the best sex of your life.

Warnings ⚠️: daddy kink, unprotected sex/rough sex, choking, oral, spitting, slight voyerism, slight dumbification and use of degrading terms (slut ect) bfd!negan, age gap

As always, all respective parties are over age of consent ect. 🤍 *Not proof read yet*

A/N: whelp here we are again, i started rewatching the walking dead from season 7 and tell me why I had totally forgot that Negan cleans out Alexandria’s houses just to burn their mattresses right down the road from them, the more I watch the more I remember how evil he really was and it makes me giggle and kick my feet i can’t lie lol. Enjoy this little depraved story, I’m just loving writing stories where the reader is very fully aware of someone watching/walking in bc it’s just so dirty I can’t freaking cope 😂love ya’s and my requests are open as always 🤍🎀🧟‍♂️

Straightening out your dress, you walked through the wooden gate at the side of your friends house, the loud thumping beats of music and chatter blaring through your eardrums. You held a bottle of Smirnoff in your other hand, remembering the teaching from your mother about never showing up to a party empty handed, that was considered rude and insulting.

You’d left the party girl lifestyle behind, having your fun in your early twenties but mellowing out in the last year or so, finding more enjoyment in a cup of tea and a good book. Not to the extent of being anti-social, just cutting off bad habits and rethinking where you wanted to take your life. Coming fresh out college filled you with a sense of doubt and confusion, you studied heavy, dedicating your time to educating yourself but hadn’t yet found what you wanted to be in the world. No matter how much you were freaking out about your next step, you couldn’t miss your friend’s birthday party, so you’d decided to have some fun and let loose, deal with reality tomorrow instead.

Pushing those dreaded thoughts underneath the surface, plastering a smile on your face as you entered the already crowded back garden of your best friend, Natalie. You’d known Natalie for years now, exact number you couldn’t remember but through high school and many ups and downs, you’d always stayed close, spending nearly every weekend at her house. That was with her mother though, she’d recently moved in with her dad, due to domestic arguments with her mother getting too toxic. You’d only ever seen her dad twice in your life, normally when he’d pick her up after the various extra curricular activities you two enrolled in together. Negan.

Such a unique name, you’d thought when you first laid your eyes on him. How anyone could give him up would be a mystery to you, from your limited interactions he’d always been sweet to you. Offering to drop you home as well but always denying, not wanting him to drive out of his route just for you. Those polished, pearly teeth gleaming at you when he asked, practically making you melt right there on the spot. You’d cursed yourself for manifesting a little crush on the man, who was your best friends dad, the forbidden attraction. The way he’d sit lazily in the driver side, his large hands gripping the steering wheel, your mind wandering to thoughts of what they would be like gripped around your dainty neck. The black bikers jacket he’d always wear even in scorching temperatures, fitting his frame just right.

“Hey hey girl, how are you?” She wrapped you into a affectionate hug, her candy sweet scent hitting your nostrils, her birthday tiara shining in the sun’s beam. You reciprocated, giving a small squeeze as you released her, holding the bottle out to her. “Happy birthday, Nat. It’s been too long!” You replied as she took the bottle out of your hands, thanking you for the gift. “Come on let me get you a drink and we can catch up!” She lead you through the crowd of people, a mixed bag, some young and some old. You recognised some familiar faces from growing up, giving a small nod at those who recognised you, commenting small hellos.

Natalie motioned for you to take a seat at the rattan sofa lounger, near the side of the backyard porch, a small fire pit in the middle, keeping you toasty as your dress was a little shorter than you were used to. Negan entered through the same gate you’d come through minutes ago, returning with a crate of beer from the garage. He fought his way through the crowd, handing out the liquor to those he’d promised it too. Small ‘thank you’s in acceptance, placing the remaining bottles into a cooler with ice. Wiping his hands off with a small towel, fingers slightly numb from handling the ice, his eyes moved around the yard, silently cursing his daughter for inviting so many people to this place. His annoyance came to a halt when his eyes locked onto you, recognising your face in the sea of people. Watching you laugh with Natalie over old pictures she was showcasing to you, he’d know your laugh from a mile away.

He couldn’t help the heat that ran through his body, his jeans getting tighter as he watched your chest rising, your arms placed in front of you, making your breasts press together firmly, slight cleavage coming into show for him to memorise. You’d definitely grown up since the last time he’d seen you, taking a beer out for himself, he started sauntering over to you, discreetly adjusting himself on the way.

“Well if that isn’t who I think it is? It’s been ages doll!” He exclaimed, your head whipping around to meet his gaze. He looked similar to how he did when you’d last seen him, the only major difference being his beard being thicker and slight whiteness now peaking out of it. “Hey! Mr Smith, it’s nice to see you after all this time!” You almost purred, he loved the way that name sounded rolling off your pretty lips, that familiar heat rising to his cheeks slightly. While it sounded completely innocent to everyone around, he could tell the difference. “Oh why so formal? Call me Negan, we’re all friends here.” He grinned, those familiar pearly whites coming into view as he swiped his tongue along his lower lip lightly. “Are you ladies okay for drinks?” Natalie waved her dad off, claiming they were fine, he took his leave but not before taking one last gaze over your body, your curves almost putting him under some witchcraft spell.

It was later in the evening, the sun setting over the horizon, you’d been roped into playing a game of ‘Truth or Dare’ under the suggestion of Natalie, it being the game you played at all those sleepovers you’d had with her back in the day. You were sat with a few other girls, ones you’d recognised from high school. You weren’t best friends with any of them, not knowing them well like you did Natalie, just more so the fact they were the only girls left at the party.

You’d played it safe up to this point, only choosing truth, you decided to throw caution to the wind when your next turn came, proclaiming dare to the group.

Natalie’s eyes found yours, you could practically see the cogs turning inside her head, it got you wondering what her depraved mind was going to come up with. “I dare you to… seduce my dad.” You almost spat your drink out, eyes widening at the request, palms hot with embarrassment. “What? You actually want me to do that? Are you insane?!” You asked, a confused look sat on your face. “Not to be rude but… you aren’t his type at all, so it’s a guaranteed point for me! I’m just being strategic!” She claimed, her eyes meeting yours, goading you to back down. Your heart sank at the confession, you couldn’t understand why it stung so much, it was just a little silly crush but you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit this new information made you feel a bit low. Your hurt feeling started slowly turning to slight rage, still watching Natalie as she challenged you with her eyes.

“Okay, how about we make this interesting though? $100 suit you?” You smirked, pulling a hundred dollar bill out of your purse, waving it in her face, mocking her. She returned your smirk, that goddamn egotistical smirk she got from her father, her manicured hand coming out in front of her to offer a handshake to seal the deal. “You are on, sister. You have to bring something back to the table that’s his, it’s the only way I’ll believe you.” You raised from the couch, slamming your empty cup down on the small table, taking your hair clip out, hair falling to the top of your back in loose, bouncy pin up curls. The girls watched you walk through the patio doors, sliding it to let you in before continuing on with the game.

You got into the kitchen, a few people standing around in conversations, you politely asked one of them if they had seen the man you were seeking out, answering that he’d gone up to his bedroom to change shirts, alcohol being split on him about five minutes ago. Making your way to the top floor of the house, you started trying doors, having absolutely no clue which one was his as you’d never been in the house before. You came to the last one at the end of the landing, being met with the very man you wanted to see.

There he was, shirtless in front of you, his room rather large. A four poster bed in the centre of it, black and red silk sheets with matching puffy pillows, a small door which lead into a en-suite, two bookshelves at the sides of the bed, small circle led lights above the headboard. He threw the wet t-shirt he’d taken off into the wicker laundry basket, not yet noticing that you’d entered the room. “Mr Smith? Sorry for not knocking, I need to speak to you about something.” You mumbled, the anxiety of what you were about to ask him gaining on you. He slightly jumped, a flirty grin on his face when he realised it was you who was there. You took a seat in the leather loveseat, matching the bed sheets, red and black were obviously his favourites. Your hands nervously played with the hem of your dress, his eyes wandering to your delicate fingers. “I’m all ears doll, ask away!” He says, turning his back to you as he found another t-shirt to change into, you opened your mouth to talk, nervousness managing to stop you in your tracks.

He turned back around, his face contorting into a confused look, wondering what you be needing to ask that would get you so worked up like this. “So Natalie dared me to… seduce you in our game of truth or dare. I had every intention to give it my best shot but she told me I’m not your type. W-which is fine, but I kind of bet $100 on it. Is there any chance you could give me something out of this room that I can take down to prove I did it, without actually doing it?” You awkwardly explained, your eyes not being able to meet his, if they had you would have seen the shimmer in his eyes as you cutely fumbled over your words out of embarrassment. He let out a large laugh, your face squirming, if his daughters confession made you feel bad, this was ten times worse. You felt a small tear gathering at the bottom of your eye, wanting the earth to swallow you in this moment.

It was the touch on your knee that made you look up, meeting his gaze as he knelt down to come to face level with you, Negan hadn’t bothered to put another shirt on, the low light of the room landing on his body just right, your core feeling slightly slick as his muscles tensed deep. You thought he was about to make fun of you for such a childish request, when he grabbed your chin firmly, making your head stay in position it was, looking into his eyes, not having the nerve to look away.

“Now doll, please tell me why you’d ever listen to such a fucking stupid thing like that?” He questioned, his thumb tracing your jawline slightly, still holding your chin in place. Your ears perked up, the total opposite of what you thought he was going to say coming out. “Uh, I’m not sure?” You replied, your voice not coming out as confident as you would have liked, that smirk still on his face. He was enjoying watching you squirm underneath him, his hand let go of your chin, hooking either hand around the underside of your thighs, pulling you slightly forward so your ass was half on the chair and half off. “How about I do you one better? Why don’t we actually complete the dare, huh doll? I don’t know why she’d say some crazy shit like that, probably hasn’t been paying attention to how I haven’t taken my goddamn eyes off you all night. You’ve really grown into a fine ass woman, you know that right?” You let out a slight moan, the feeling of his large hands keeping your legs spread open for him to see making your whole body electric. A vision of white panties peaking out under your dress, your new position on the seat making it rise up to your waist. “Thanks for the compliment Negan, but if… if you don’t touch me right now, I’m going to lose my mind.” You managed to make out, in broken breaths, your chest rising heavily up and down as you did, eyes wandering to his abdomen.

“Your wish is my command, pretty girl. Just relax and let daddy take care of you.” He whispered lustfully as his fingertips moved your panties to the side, showing your ever wetting slick pussy to him. He had to take a sharp breath in, nothing he’d seen was a prettier sight that this, hadn’t even imagined you looking this good, exceeding his wet dreams. He gathered saliva in his mouth, a powerful spit right on the centre of you, you whimpering in response at the degrading and dirty action. “Well, look at that! Someone likes a bit of domination doesn’t she?” He proclaimed to you, he couldn’t believe his fucking luck. You gasped as he finally took your clit into his mouth, sucking on it softly, teasing you with his devilish tongue.

He moves back to your pussy where he runs his tongue over your wet lips. You let out a deep guttural groan, as you grab large pieces of his slicked back hair, tugging him slightly, guiding him to all the places, you needed attention on. Negan continued to lick long strips down from your sensitive bud to your opening, listening to your moans and whimpers as he did. “Fu-fuck Negan! Yes, your making me feel so good.” He took his tongue of you, whining at the loss of contact. A darker look shifted on his face, more pressure as his hand dug further into your thighs. “Listen here, dollface. Tonight I’m not Negan, tonight I am daddy, you get that? Or has my tongue already made that pretty little head of yours blank?” He growled out, his tone completely like nothing you’d ever heard him sound like before, you’d truly woken the beast inside this man and you couldn’t wait for the journey. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry daddy, please put your tongue back on me, it makes me feel so fucking good!” He sinisterly grinned at you, parting your folds again and letting your juices flow down onto his tongue. He finds himself vigorously tongue fucking you as you begin gyrating on the chair, trying to push your hips into his face more, nothing mattering to you more than the pleasure he was providing, while pulling his hair with your fingers.

As he begins sucking your clit, he works a couple of fingers deep into your pussy, finding how tight you clamped around him, trying to intensify your pleasure. Negan begins to alternate between licking and sucking your clit, as you became more and more impassioned. It isn't long before you thrusted your pussy hard against his face, his beard scratching against you as your first climax washed over you, your hips bucking even more, back arched, your arms that were holding you up shaking.

“Fuck, daddy, I need you inside me now, please!” You whined, Negan hoisting you up off the now wet chair, the slick shining sun in the light of the room. He slammed your body on the bed, your head hanging off the edge of the bed, the blood rushing to your ears. “Goddamn doll, this pretty little pussy is going to be the death of me, pull that top down, I want to see those tits bounce as I fuck you dumb.” You obeyed, pulling your breasts out of your dress, the style of dress restricting you from wearing a bra, cupping them and rubbing your nipples as well. He could have bust right there and then, the image of you below him, looking like something out of a damn Playboy magazine.

He trails kisses up your body, tasting the thin layer of sweat on your skin until he reaches your mouth where he kisses your lips deeply, snaking his tongue into your mouth as he lined up at your entrance, rubbing his dick up and down your folds, setting your whole body on fire, nerves standing on edge. He releases your mouth, moving to your neck, nipping and biting at it as he finally stretched you out, filling you up nicely.

“That’s it doll, fuck. You feel goddamn heavenly, such a good slut for my dick right?” He grunts out, leaning away from your neck to hover over you as he put his hands around your throat, his pace getting more erratic, unable to control himself from his hard thrusts as your skin slapped together. Your head was starting to go dizzy, between being upside down and your oxygen being slowly cut by Negan’s large hand, it intensified your impending orgasm. Negan pulled out quickly, turning you over from your back to your stomach, forcing your back to arch as much as you could, slipping back into you. The new angle sent you nearly cock drunk, Negan too mesmerised watching his dick going in and out of you, not noticing the door slowly opening slightly.

You looked over to see Natalie looking on at you and her father, like time had stopped in place. You couldn’t see her whole face, just her eyes. Frozen, she made no move to say anything or close the door. You smirked at her, your eyes not breaking eye contact. “Oh daddy! You fuck me so good, my pussy belongs to you!” You moaned, a narcissistic grin sitting happily on your mouth. “Shit yeah doll, this pussy is all fucking mine you dumb whore.” His hand coming down in your hair, his other placed around your neck again. Hips snapping repeatedly against you at a now familiar pace, a moan leaving you every time he snapped. You raised yourself up on your elbows, repeatedly rubbing your thumb over the tips of your index finger and middle finger, the universal sign for Pay Me. Her eyes squinted in anger, closing the door again, not wanting to see anything else and now pissed she owed you money.

You quietly laughed to yourself as quietly as you could, feeling your walls clamp on Negan’s dick as you were ready to orgasm. “Fuck daddy, I’m going to cum again!” You whimpered, gripping the silk sheets below you both, Negan shallowly grunting above you. “Shit doll, me too. Let go for me baby, milk daddy’s dick doll.” You squeezed the bed sheet again, your whole body shaking as you closed your eyes, breathing irregular as you flopped forward on the bed, panting heavy. Negan pulled out at just the right moment, hot spurts of his cum hitting your lower back, cooling off after a couple seconds sat there. He carefully placed himself next to you, pulling you towards him so you rested in his arm. “I’ve been waiting for that for years, you know?” You told him, your fingers slowly drawing small circles on his forearm. “Could have told me sooner doll, that was fucking sen-sat-ional! You are perfect.” You laughed, kissing the side of his face, leaving a small nip at his ear lobe.

Two orgasms and $100 richer, it was worth leaving the house after all.

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because-of-a-friend · 4 years

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Seventeen Reaction: Seeing a Different Side of You

MASTERLIST

Thanks for the request anon! I hope you like it!!

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

He loves this so much, tbh. Firstly, he’s incredibly curious as to how you managed to hide the true nature of your personality. Especially when you’re out and about and he sees you become sort of standoffish again when you meet new people. He’s like????? This is the same person who was doing aegyo to try and get a sip of my drink earlier???? How???? He comes to the natural conclusion that you’re just very guarded around new people. So secondly, he feels very honored that you trust him enough to show him this side of you. He’ll put more effort into making sure you remain feeling comfortable around him and that he doesn’t do anything to break that trust.

YOON JEONGHAN

Jeonghan is pretty chill and nonjudgmental, so he’s ready to go with the flow when you seem intimidating at first. He’ll respect your boundaries and try a gentle approach to getting to know you so he doesn’t cross any lines or upset you. When you open up a bit more and show that your personality is actually more similar to Hoshi and DK’s, this man is putty in your hands. Jeonghan adores all of his boys, but he loves babying DK and Hoshi. It’s no different with you when he realizes you’re very similar to them. You can expect a lot of pinched cheeks and baby talk, never in a demeaning way, just to show you how much he loves this side of you.

JOSHUA HONG

My mans is overwhelmed. Joshua has his funny moments and outbursts, but overall is usually more quiet and introverted. So when you seem standoffish at first, he respects that you probably just don’t open up easily, and let’s you take the lead. When he slowly starts seeing the side of you that resembles DK and Hoshi, he sort of feels a sense of dread. Not because he hates that type of personality, but because it can be a bit much for him to keep up with... and he’s already in a group filled with overactive, bubbly people. But after awhile he becomes much more appreciative, because he remembers that it’s good to have balance in his life, and having people like you around really helps push him out of his comfort zone to try new things. So he’s a little intimidated by your non-intimidating personality at first, but he really grows to love it.

WEN JUNHUI

Also very much a go with the flow person. He hardly even notices when you slowly start opening up and being more comfortable showing him more of your true nature. Because honestly every time you hang out, he just matches your energy. He does notice that instead of shorter meetings in quiet places, the two of you start hanging out for hours and going out all over the place. He really enjoys it and overall is happy to spend time with you whether you’re feeling comfortable enough to be your true self around him or not.

KWON SOONYOUNG

Of course he’s elated, are you kidding me??? When you first meet, despite how intimidating you are, he is determined to break down your walls and be your friend. He’s actually sort of an overwhelming presence in your life for awhile, because every corner you turn, there’s Soonyoung with some incredibly random question to try and get to know you better. But once you start opening up and matching his energy, he’s off the walls excited. The other boys are suffering because now there’s two of you. You always go along with his tiger agenda. And the two of you have a habit of riling each other up and slowly getting more and more excited until Seungcheol yells that you two need to “either go outside or learn to use your inside voices.” Overall, Soonyoung is so excited to know someone so similar to him that he knows will back him up always.

JEON WONWOO

Thinks it’s adorable. He knows that he can come off as intimidating when he’s meeting new people because he can be a bit guarded, so when he first meets you, he’s not super put off by how you come off because he understands. Since both of you can be a little standoffish, it actually takes you quite a bit to get close to each other. But when you start opening up, Wonwoo loves it. He knows there are sides to him that are little more bubbly than expected as well, so the two of you bond on how similarly the two of you navigate social situations and how it’s sometimes easier to be guarded around people at first. He feels really seen and understood by you, so he’s very happy to have met you.

LEE JIHOON

He thought you were on his side, dammit! When you first met them, he loved having you in the studio because your never-ending silence and seemingly intimidating presence always guaranteed that the other boys would actually be quiet and respectful out of fear of upsetting you. Then one night, the whole world just flipped upside-down. Instead of sitting quietly next to him, you were laughing loudly with the boys and encouraging DK and Hoshi’s energetic behavior. Of course, he comes to love it as well. He’ll even make jokes about how you “betrayed” him, but you’ll easily counter with just as witty a quip, leading to a very fun, light-hearted relationship between the two of you.

LEE SEOKMIN

Seokmin also loves hanging out with anyone. So when you’re more intimidating at first, he’ll put in a very simple and gentle effort to try and be your friend. He’s fine with you being standoffish, he just figures it’ll take you awhile to open up. When you do, and he figures out how similar you are, he loves it! He likes that you two have so much in common personality-wise, it means that you’re both very agreeable towards each other and enjoy most of the same things. He feels like he’s gained another partner in crime and is going to put so much effort into nurturing a wonderful friendship between the two of you.

KIM MINGYU

Minnie is honestly such a softie at heart that he will genuinely be intimidated by you at first. He’ll struggle a little bit with navigating your social interactions, but he always puts in as much effort into being as kind to you as possible. He’s honestly kind of relieved when you open up more, he was starting to doubt whether you actually liked him or not. He loves your bubbly and excitable personality, he definitely feels more at ease around you and is happy you feel more at ease around him. Mingyu is glad he put in the effort to get to know you, and is really happy to have you in his life.

XU MINGHAO

Honestly so confused when he sees this other side of you, “Is this even the person that I know???” He also doesn’t understand why you’d hide your true personality. Minghao has never felt the need to be anyone other than himself, so why did you feel the need to mask this side of you? When you two get closer he might bring it up casually, just to make sure it’s not about something more serious. When you admit that it’s just harder for you to trust people quickly, Minghao is very understanding and tells you that you can always talk to him about any worries you have. “And [Y/N], I’m glad that you trust me enough to be your honest self with me.” And you’d never admit it to him, but when he said those words to you they filled you with warmth.

BOO SEUNGKWAN

Baby Boo is also a little intimidated by you at first. He’s a people pleaser, so when he isn’t met with immediate positivity from you, it sets him off a little. Afterwards, he tries his best to get you on his good side, always greeting you happily, making small talk, and trying to get to know you. You honestly open up more just because you can see you how hard he’s trying. You also apologize for making him doubt at first, but he assures you he understands. He gets really excited when he notices you remind him of DK and Hoshi, it makes him feel even closer to you. It also means the two of you are often on the same wavelength. Overall, Seungkwan is super happy to have you around.

VERNON CHWE

Vernon is honestly such an easy-going, kind, accepting, welcoming, non-judgmental person that he’s probably the best at going through this transition. It honestly doesn’t even take that long for you to open up around him because he feels like such a safe person to be around. When Vernon notices you opening up, he gets really excited. He’s happy to match your energy and loves having another lively person around. He’s also super understanding of why you don’t always immediately show your true self to others and is always a steady friend to depend on whenever you need anything. He’s honored you trust him enough to be yourself around him and will do anything to keep that trust.

LEE CHAN

Another person who’s actually genuinely intimidated by you at first. He is slightly better at hiding it than Mingyu and Seungkwan, but he’s still a little on edge around you. Chan is also the type to really fight for people’s approval, so it’s agony for him for awhile. He really can’t tell if you’re just shy or if you do not like him at all. But he doesn’t give up on trying to get close to you as long as he has a chance to. When you start to open up more, Chan is so happy. He thinks it’s hilarious that you’re so much like DK and Hoshi, especially after how you came off at first. He thinks you’re one of the funniest people he’s ever met and feels like his life has improved tenfold since you opened up to him.

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laviefantasie · 4 years

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I Think About You

Pairings: Alive!Luke Patterson x Alive!Reader

Summary: Luke and Y/N had been the perfect couple, until they weren’t. Some things have definitely changed, but some feelings stay the same.

| MASTERLIST |

You sigh as you stare at the big doors of Los Feliz High School. Summer was officially over and the moment you had been dreading since then had finally arrived. This was the day that everything became real. No more avoiding the reality of your life.

You enter the school’s hallways with your head down, trying to cover most of your face with your beanie-free head. You wanted to avoid your friends for as long as you could.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see them, I mean Julie was your best friend, you just didn’t want to see him. Not after the breakup. You weren’t mad, you just weren’t ready, it still felt too soon.

You and Julie had been the best of friends since you moved to the house next door. Both of you connecting through music, always finding time to write songs together. That’s why when Julie was asked to join Sunset Curve — now Julie and the Phantoms — you were the first one she told and the first one to meet the guys.

Alex, Reggie, and Luke had instantly become of your liking which had sealed the deal for Julie to accept their offer, though as soon as the cute guitarist had taken the liberty to go through both of Julie’s and your stuff — even after you both had screamed at him about boundaries— he had found your songbook. After that, Luke would always go to you to talk about the songs for the band and then to write them with you.

It had become a thing between you both.

Soon, songwriting dates became real dates and, as everyone predicted, you two started dating. But the band always came first to Luke — you knew that and always respected it— which meant that dates started to be missed unless it involved the band's songs.

It had become too much for either of you.

That’s why, after almost a year of dating, Luke and you had broken up with the promise of giving each other the summer to heal before having to put the band’s needs as their priorities.

That’s why you hadn’t seen either of your friends, other than Flynn, through your whole summer.

Now though, the reality of the situation hit you with all its force. You and Luke were over.

With a sad sigh, you hug your songbook closer to your chest —the song you had written a few weeks ago feeling heavier in it— before making your way to your locker, which is located beside Julie's.

“Y/N”

You move your eyes to the source of your name, Julie staring at you with a soft smile before moving to hug you. You return the hug with a heavy sigh, you had definitely missed her.

“How are you?” she questions you as soon as she lets go.

You shrug your shoulders with a small smile before opening your locker, you didn’t want to be questioned about your mixed feelings right now. You were not ready for that.

“There is my underachiever and my failure”

Both you and Julie let out a laugh as Flynn positions herself in front of you both, you making sure to grab the books you needed before turning towards her with a smile.

“Hey, disappointment” Julie and you say simultaneously.

Soon, Flynn and Julie start to tell you about the summer gossip that they’d heard so far making you laugh as they mention Carrie’s Dirty Candy costume malfunction. Your smile disappears though as you see a hand position itself on Julie’s shoulder, a known leather jacket catching your attention.

“Hello, ladies”

Flynn and Julie smile at Reggie while you look at your surroundings in a slight panic, if Reggie was here it meant that the other two members of the band had to be close. You were definitely not ready.

“I... uh...” You stammer while starting to walk backwards, “I have... have to go to, uh... class! Yes! I have to go to class! See you at lunch!”

As fast as your feet allow you to, you run towards the music room knowing they won’t come after you and needing the quiet.

You sit yourself down on the grand piano, letting out a heavy sigh as you do. How were you supposed to ignore your still very present feelings for the lead guitarist of Julie and the Phantoms if you had to socialize with him?

Your hands open your songbook on the song you had poured your feelings in before putting it in on the piano’s music rack. Your fingers soon grace the instrument’s keys as you build up the courage to play it.

With the thought of hazel-green eyes you allow yourself to play it.

“Last summer we met We started as friends I can't tell you how it all happened”

Memories of how Julie had introduced you both come to you at full force, his boyish grin forever imprinted in your mind.

“Then autumn, it came We were never the same Those nights, everything felt like magic”

It hadn’t taken you both too long for your friendship to become something more, every time you stayed up late writing songs and talking about anything that came to your minds had made sure of that.

“And I wonder if you miss me too If you don't is one thing that I wish you knew”

Before you can start the chorus you move your hands away from the piano your eyes filled with unshed tears. It was too much, too soon. You feel anger well up in your chest as you stare at the lyrics in front of you.

Without thinking about it, you rip the page out and crumble it before throwing it in the classroom’s trash.

Once that is done, you grab your stuff and leave the room in a hurry failing to notice the blond drummer that stood by the door with a broken look on his face.

He had heard and seen everything and he couldn't stop his heart from breaking after seeing how hard this was being on you. Especially since he knew how hard it was being on Luke too, even if he refused to show it.

With that thought, Alex enters the music room to grab the crumbled piece of paper from the trash. He was going to fix this.

Luke walked besides Reggie and Willie with a kicked puppy look through the school’s hallways, he was dreading the moment he had to see Y/N. Maybe breaking up hadn’t been the smartest idea, but he just didn’t want to hurt you anymore and he couldn’t make you his priority.

At least he thought he couldn’t.

After spending the whole summer without you things had changed. You had become his priority. You were all he could think about, you were what made him write and what stopped him from writing. You were his first thought in the morning and his last thought at night.

He had screwed the best thing he had and he didn’t know how to fix it, he didn’t even know if you’d want him back. You had been understanding when he had told you what he thought was best, even going as far as promising that the band wouldn’t be hurt by it only asking for the summer to be able to heal.

He had realized he loved you at that moment.

It had been too late though. And now, here he was walking through Los Feliz High School’s hallways without you by his side, a good enough reason to have a pouty face on.

That's why when Alex stopped his two best friends and boyfriend in the middle of their way to History class, Luke only glared at him. For once all the brunette guitarist wanted to do was listen to Mrs. Smith's awfully loud voice talk about World War II.

Although it seemed the blond didn't get the memo because he pushed a wrinkled paper to your hands, an urgent and hopeful look in his eyes.

Willie and Reggie look at the interaction with curiosity, Luke scoffing before looking at the paper. Eyebrows furrowing as he identifies the words as lyrics.

“I think about you every morning when I open my eyes, I think about you every evening when I turn out the lights” he reads in confusion “I think about you every moment, every day of my life. You're on my mind all the time, it's true”

He's about to push the paper back to the drummer's hands, his heartbreak feeling ten times worst after reading that song, but the realization that he knows that handwriting stops him.

That's Y/N handwriting.

That could only mean she had written this song, but Luke knew all your songs as he had gone through your songbook hundreds of times. That meant this one was recent.

"Does this mean what I think it means?"

Alex nods with a big smile, "Yeah. What are you gonna do about it?"

Luke reads the lyrics again and again with a big smile while the three other boys stare at him with equally happy looks on their faces.

"I'm going to get my girl back"

Julie, Flynn, and you walk towards your usual table at the cafeteria with your trays of food. You felt your heart thumping loudly in your chest as you prepared yourself to sit across the guitarist that owns your heart.

Luck appears to be on your side as you three sit across from Willie, Alex, and Reggie with no sign on Luke. You let your gaze wander through the cafeteria, your eyebrows furrowing in worry as you don't see him anywhere.

Was he not eating with you guys? Was he not eating there because of you?

You start to feel sick at the thought, hating the idea that you could make him avoid his bandmates. You shake those thoughts aways, he wouldn't do that.

"Alex, Reggie" You gain their attention "Wh-where's Luke?"

They turn towards one another with uncertainty and that is the answer you need. Suddenly your food looks no longer appealing, so you stand up from where you are seated.

A conflicted look on your face.

"Y/N/N?" Whispers Julie in worry.

"I have t—I'm not hungry anymore"

Alex and Reggie share a look of worry before standing up too, "You can't leave!"

Their outburst has you and the other two girls looking at them in confusion. What the hell? Before either of you can question your weird best friends, the sound of an acoustic guitar has you and everyone else in the cafeteria shutting up.

Though what has you shutting up is the fact you recognize the melody. With confusion, you see Reggie and Alex smile at something behind you before turning around.

Coming through the cafeteria doors with his six-string is no other than Luke Patterson.

“Last summer we met We started as friends I can't tell you how it all happened Then autumn, it came We were never the same Those nights, everything felt like magic”

Your heart tightens in your chest as you hear his raspy voice sing the lyrics that you had written in tears when you had realized you were in love with him after losing him.

“And I wonder if you miss me too If you don't is one thing that I wish you knew”

He moves towards you, not once breaking eye contact. You hear Julie and Flynn let out excited squeals behind you but your focus is solely on the brunette boy walking your way.

“I think about you every morning when I open my eyes I think about you every evening when I turn out the lights I think about you every moment, every day of my life You're on my mind all the time, it's true I think about you, you you, you you I think about you, you you, you you”

Luke's green eyes take you all in. His heart feels lighter once he finally lays his eyes on you. Boy, he had missed you. Singing and playing came easier, heck breathing came easier with you.

Once he had read the song you had written he knew he still had a shot and he wasn't about to let it pass him. He needed you. He was in love with you.

“Would you know what to say If I saw you today? Would you let it all crumble to pieces? 'Cause I know that I should Forget you if I could I can't yet for so many reasons”

The girls at Los Feliz follow the lead guitarist with their eyes, jealousy and awe in display as they see him look towards Y/N with complete adoration in his eyes.

Reggie and Alex fist bump one another as they see Y/N take small steps towards Luke as he keeps walking to her. They definitely had done their jobs as best friends.

Willie interlacing his fingers with Alex's other hand, both sharing a loving smile as Luke finally stops in front of Y/N.

“How long 'til I stop pretending? What we have is never ending Oh, oh, oh If all we are is just a moment Don't forget me 'cause I won't and I can't help myself”

Both of you stared deeply at each other's eyes, green meeting e/c. Your heart flutters in your chest as you see the vulnerability in Luke's eyes as he sings your words to you, knowing he feels the same way as you expressed in that song.

“I think about you, ooh, ooh I think about you, ooh”

As the song nears its ending, Luke circles you with you following his movements. A sweet smile takes over your face as he looks at you with so much love.

You didn't think he'd ever look at you that way again and that had broken your heart, but here he was looking at you that way.

As soon as the song finishes, the students start clapping but neither of the two notice. Y/N and Luke are too busy looking at one another not knowing how to start.

Everyone watches in anticipation, some even recording the whole ordeal with excited smiles.

" Luke, I..."

Whatever you were gonna say is cut off by Luke's lips pressing against your own, both of you melting at the feeling of each other. Both of your hearts start thumping loudly as Luke moves his guitar to his back to position his hands on your waist to deepen the kiss.

All the people around you, especially your best friends, clap and squeal loudly in excitement. Luke and you breaking apart when you both are reminded you're not alone.

"I think about you all the time too" he whispers close to your lips.

Your smile grows before you capture his lips once more, not caring about all the people watching you. You both break the kiss only to hug one another close, suddenly both of your hearts feel lighter.

Neither of you thinking of letting go anytime soon.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #luke jatp #luke patterson #luke patterson x oc #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #sunset curve

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woah-were-halfway-there · 4 years

Text

Our Last Summer - B. Boeser

A/N: just a girl who thought she’d try writing for a different player. Shocking, I know. Also this is an OC and I love her, enjoy!

Yes, after the ABBA song. Also shoutout to my least favourite Taurus @brockadoodles for convincing me to follow through with writing and posting this and being an A+ beta reader always.

Word Count: 9.2k

To Brock, summer was the best time of year. As much as he loved hockey season, summer gave him the chance to unwind, relax and spend time with his friends and family. It also allowed him to be at one of his favourite places all the time, the lake.

The lake was a sanctuary of sorts for him, his little piece of paradise. Even before he moved to Vancouver, he spent every summer there, which is why he ended up buying a home on that lake to spend his off-seasons in. It also happened to be where he got to see Lennon—the only place.

Brock and Lennon first met almost ten years ago. Right away, Brock could tell that she wasn't from the area based on her lack of a so-called Minnesotan accent but eventually learned how her family started vacationing on the lake the same year they were both turning fourteen.

Lennon's family has been back every year since. How she and Brock first crossed paths was on the beach one fateful afternoon at the end of June. Brock was standing in line behind her, waiting to buy a bottle of water while she ordered ice cream from the man operating the little stand. Once Lennon was handed her snack, she turned around and went to walk away but didn't realize Brock was standing right there and ended up knocking into him, which resulted in her ice cream spilling down the front of the t-shirt he wore. She quickly grabbed some napkins and tried to clean up the mess she made all over him, but he just laughed it off and told her it was fine.

The two of them parted ways after that, not thinking much of the interaction and didn't cross paths again until the following summer. When they did meet again, it was on that same beach, at the same ice cream stand, but Lennon didn't spill anything that time. Instead, the pair just stared at each other as they were both hit by the most intense wave of deja vu either of them had ever experienced. After that initial shock, they talked and properly introduced themselves because what were the chances they'd run into each other again. After commenting on how he assumed Lennon wasn't from there, Brock learned that she only came to Minnesota in the summertime with her parents and twin brother because her dad was from there and her parents owned a lake house they wanted to retire to one day. It was one of Lennon's favourite places to be and had her looking forward to summer every year because of it.

That summer, Brock and Lennon saw each other on multiple occasions after the run-in on the beach, and a friendship gradually began. That friendship only grew with each summer that passed as Brock's friends became Lennon's friends too after being invited to hang out with them as they went boating, jet skiing, exploring and had bonfires each night. These activities made Lennon's summers even more memorable than before.

However, as they got older, things began to change.

The summer before Lennon turned 19 was the last summer she spent entirely at the lake for a few years. Brock had already turned 19 that February, and Lennon would be doing the same in early November. However, that fall, she began going to university and spent the summers working. Lennon didn't get as much time off but still managed to squeeze in at least two weeks at the lake to spend with her family, friends, and, of course, Brock.

Four years later, once Lennon graduated from her bachelor's program, she returned to the lake for the whole summer. Lennon also mainly spent that summer with Brock as he sat with her for hours while she applied to various jobs in her field and did phone interviews with possible employers. It was odd for him, though, because it wasn't until then, Brock realized how even though he felt like he knew Lennon very well, he hardly knew anything about her life outside of the lake. Sure, he knew that she took English and Literature at university, but he didn't know what school she attended. He also didn't know where her family lived the rest of the year. Brock only knew Lennon and summer.

There was a massive disconnect between the two of them when they weren't in their little summer bubble. Brock and Lennon didn't speak when they weren't at the lake. They had each other's phone numbers, but the thought of using it while he was in Vancouver felt foreign, and although Lennon did cross his mind, he knew the two of them would pick up where they left off like they did every summer once both of them returned to the lake.

That's what happened last summer too. Brock and Lennon were reunited on her first day back and spent almost every day together, seeing as it had been four years since the last full summer she spent in Minnesota. It was a summer to remember for sure. They somehow became even closer, which naturally led to them feeling a sense of dread as the days became shorter and summer gradually came to an end.

But, everything became ruined when Brock and Lennon slept together on her last night at the lake. Then Brock woke up to a cold and empty space next to where he laid in his bed the morning after.

The piece of him that Brock didn't realize Lennon had a hold on broke that morning. She left him feeling hurt and confused. He texted her, but she didn't reply. Then when he took his jet ski out on the water and rode by her family's house, only to see it completely dark and no cars in the driveway, he knew summer was officially over and that he wouldn't hear from her again.

That is why he was looking forward to this summer. There was no guarantee he'd be seeing Lennon. He didn't know what had gone in her life over the past ten months but was sure he'd get filled in on it once he saw her family, but he had this unexplainable feeling that she was going to be there, and that was enough to get him nervous. However, Brock was still excited even with those nerves because his summer just wasn't complete without Lennon in it. Regardless of how the two felt towards each other.

Brock's first day back consisted of getting everything ready, and the house opened up for the season. With his roommates and family's help, the boat was launched into the water and docked, so were the jet skis, and everything just slowly fell into place. The only thing missing was Lennon.

However, he tried not to think of things like that. He was convinced he'd get some closure about what happened between the two of them last summer, but when he casually brought her up in conversation, no one knew if she was back or not. Lennon's family was at the lake, everyone knew that much, but no one had seen her yet, which made Brock feel a little less hopeful.

Once everything at the house was finished getting ready, all of his company stayed for dinner but then headed back to their own homes, his roommates included. They'd be back on the weekend and be staying there for good afterwards, but for the next few days, it would just be Brock and his dogs, which was fine by him.

After everyone left, Brock headed out to the back yard, letting Milo and Coolie run around for a bit before going back inside for the night. The sun was setting, leaving warm pink and orange trails of light chasing after it while slowly disappearing in the distance. A few boats still drove around on the water, finishing up their rounds before it got too dark. Brock could also hear chatter from somewhere nearby where he assumed people were outside having a bonfire or just socializing as they enjoyed what was bound to be a beautiful evening.

Brock then wandered to the edge of his dock and sat down, letting his legs hang off the side then swaying them slightly as he continued taking it all in. Not too long after, Coolie joined him as he took up the spot next to him and rested his head on Brock's lap while looking out at the water as well. Meanwhile, Milo continued wading in the water, ready to attack any fish that dared come near him.

About ten minutes later, after Milo had gone up onto the dock as well, Brock spotted a boat heading towards him. As the boat got closer to shore, he could hear the familiar voice of Wesley Schultz as a song by The Lumineers played and watched as the boat slowed down then took a wide right turn before coming to a stop about 20 feet from the edge of his dock. Confused, Brock looked around for someone else because surely whoever was on the boat wasn't stopping to talk to him. But then he remembered that he was at his own house and that there was no other explanation for what was going on.

"Hey!" A voice greeted over the music, then a man, who Brock assumed was around the same age as him, came into view. He had dark brown hair that wasn't quite as long as Brock's but still long enough to noticeably be pushed back away from his face with a pair of sunglasses and wore only a pair of green swim trunks and an unzipped white sweater. "So you're the person who lives here. I'm Max. My family just bought a house around the bend over there. It's nice to meet you."

"Oh, cool!" Brock responded, a wave of relief washing over him as he realized the guy was just being friendly. "Nice to meet you too. I'm Brock. I live here with a few friends, but it's just me here right now. I'm sure you'll see the others around soon. Have you been to the lake before?"

"No, this is my first summer here," Max explained and smiled. "But, I know someone who's been coming here for a while and told me all about it. I must say, it's living up to its hype."

"Your friend sounds like they know what they're talking about," Brock chuckled, then heard a voice say something from where they must've been sitting out of sight on the boat. But what really surprised him the way Coolie perked up at the voice and caused a low whine to leave his mouth.

"Yeah, I'd say she does," Max replied, then leaned to the side and looked down into the boat's cabin. "She's right here actually, said it was too cold then went inside—Babe, wanna come say hi to my new neighbour? Maybe the two of you know each other."

The thought of how Brock might know the other person on the boat made sense, he knew the area so well and had met lots of people over the years, but that still didn't prepare him for the way he felt once Lennon stepped into view.

"Lemon?"

Brock's nickname for her fell from lips so quickly as he took her in, he didn't even have to think about it. Lennon's deep brown hair was longer than it was the last time Brock had seen her, that much he could tell even in the messy fishtail braid she had it in. Usually, Lennon liked to cut her hair going into the summer because she always complained about how hot it made her feel whenever it was down and not being held back with the hair tie that usually resided on her wrist.

He then took in the rest of her appearance. She wore bright yellow crocs, a pair of white terry cloth shorts and a baggy pullover that had Minnesota written in a large yellow font across it as well. Brock recognized the sweater because it belonged to him until the last night of the previous summer.

It was a simple look, but to Brock, Lennon still seemed stunning in the evening glow surrounding her.

That was when Coolie stood up and barked, snapping Brock out of the trance he'd fallen into upon seeing Lennon again. Coolie recognized her. That much was evident with how he whined and started wagging his tail just at the sight of her, Milo joining in soon after.

"Hi Coolie, hi Milo," Lennon spoke softly and smiled at the two dogs, making Brock feel as if he walked into a brick wall just by hearing her voice again.

"Oh, you two do know each other!" Max exclaimed, snapping Brock back to reality once again.

Then Lennon looked Brock in the eyes for the first time, and her smile fell slightly.

"I guess you could say that," she stated, not breaking eye contact. "Hey, Brock."

"H-hey," was all he could reply with, still recovering from the initial shock of how Lennon, the person he spent the last ten months thinking about, was finally standing in front of him again, but with another guy. "You're back."

"Yeah, I am," she nodded, then looked back at Max. "We should probably get going, though. It's getting dark."

"You're right," Max agreed. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you around, Brock. Have a good night."

"Uh, yeah, you too," Brock responded, whispering almost as he observed Max start the boat back up and begin driving off.

He watched the two of them go, refusing to take his eyes off of Lennon, which was how he didn't miss the way she looked back at him too or how she didn't look away until the boat rounded the bend and disappeared out of sight yet again.

~*~

About a week went by before Brock saw Lennon again, and he hated it. He saw her family, who all asked when he'd be stopping by again. But Brock didn't know how to explain that he and Lennon had barely spoken or the reason behind it all. It then got worse when his parents came over that weekend and told him how they ran into her while they were at the store and that she seemed to be doing well.

It sucked for him because all he wanted to do was talk, but he knew Lennon. And he knew that if she wanted to talk, she would. However, it was clear that she didn't, so Brock didn't push her into talking with him regardless of how badly he wanted to.

The thought of just messaging Lennon and asking her to come over crossed his mind many times that week, but he couldn't bring himself to send the text he typed out and would end up deleting it instead. His summer was already off to a very different start than he was hoping for.

One day, while he was out boating with some of his friends, things started to change again.

After being out on the water for most of the day, Brock and his friends all decided to dock the boat at the marina near, of course, the beach that Brock couldn't step foot on without thinking about Lennon. Once he saw that beach, he was reminded of how much time he and Lennon spent there together over the years since first meeting. Brock would've been lying if he said he didn't want to run into her again on that same beach, but he tried not to get his hopes up.

However, to his luck, Lennon was walking along the dock at the marina the same time Brock was hopping off the boat to help tie it up. Brock spotted her first, but she was busy scrolling through her phone, her eyebrows furrowed with an unreadable expression on her face as she did so, and she didn't notice Brock or the others as she continued walking towards them, but then came to an abrupt stop.

Whatever Lennon was looking at on her phone seemed important, and Brock didn't want to interrupt, but then one of his friends, who also knew Lennon, spotted her.

"Lenny!" Sam exclaimed as he brushed past Brock, making Lennon jump, but still, smile once she saw who was approaching her and accepted the hug she was about to be pulled into. "You're back!"

"Lennon's here?" Someone else asked, and soon enough, everyone who Brock was with rushed by him to see their friend.

"Hey, guys!" She greeted happily, a much different mood than how her reunion with Brock was a week prior.

"Are you here all summer?"

"I am," Lennon confirmed, still smiling.

"That's awesome," said Claire, Sam's girlfriend. "We've been waiting to see when you'd get here. We missed you! Is Mick here too?"

"Yeah, he is," Lennon responded, letting the group know that her brother had returned to the lake as well. "He's at the house right now helping my dad get the new barbecue set up. I was sent here to pick up things to get grilled tonight."

She then held up the plastic bag she was carrying for emphasis, earning chuckles from the rest of the group.

"Well, we won't keep you then," stated one of Brock's roommates. "But come over to the house soon, and we'll all hang out."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you guys later!"

Everyone said goodbye to Lennon, then continued on their way, but Brock stayed back. She still hadn't noticed him, and he didn't want her to feel cornered by him, especially around their friends, but he needed to talk to her. Just the two of them.

He observed her as she watched their friends walk down the dock, taking in the jean shorts and mint green tank top she wore, then cleared his throat, making Lennon snap her attention in his direction and not missing the way her eyes widened as she did so.

"Hey, Lemon," he greeted her and felt an instant wave of relief wash over him while he saw her expression soften as he said that.

"You're never going to drop that nickname, are you?" She asked while shaking her head and smiling.

Brock pursed his lips and looked away from her as if he was deeply considering her question but couldn't help the small laugh that left his mouth as he did.

"No, I don't think I can."

"Right. Whatever you say, Broccoli."

At that, Brock's grin grew much wider. Hearing Lennon call him the nickname she's always said in response to him calling her, Lemon, hit differently this time because, although he knew things weren't normal between them, it almost seemed like it was. But, it was short-lived because his nagging thoughts about the girl standing in front of him started creeping back, making his smile falter a little bit.

"Brock?" Lennon asked, noticing how he was getting too deep in his thoughts. Something she knew he did often. "You ok?"

"Yeah," he replied and shook his head slightly. "I was just thinking. Um, listen, can we talk? You know, about… everything?"

Lennon let out a sigh, knowing this conversation needed to happen between the two of them, but still not sure if she was ready to have it just yet. "I don't know what to say."

"Me neither, to be honest. But maybe we can start with what happened last summer and how you're seeing someone else now?"

"Brock, me and you aren't in a relationship. You can’t corner me like that. I don't owe you an explanation."

"Lennon, that's not fair and you know that’s not what I’m doing," he stated. "I'm not saying you have to explain yourself. That's your business, whether I like it or not. But, I would like to know where we stand because I have thought about you every day for the past ten months and seeing you on that boat last week sucked. I was caught off guard, but that doesn't matter. I just miss my friend and don't want this summer to be weird because we slept together when clearly it didn't mean anything."

Once Brock finished his spiel, Lennon took a shaky breath then let her gaze fall to the ground, knowing he had a point.

"I'm sorry," she spoke softly. "You're right, it's not fair, and I'm also sorry for just leaving you last year. But Brock, I don't know what to tell you right now because I know it's not going to be what you want to hear."

"The least you could do, as my friend, is tell me why. Why did you leave and act as though nothing happened between us and avoid me completely?"

"I panicked, ok!"

"About what?" Brock questioned, feeling even more lost than before. "Len, what are you talking about?"

“Because Brock, before we slept together, it was just you and the lake,” she explained. “It was easy. It was like we lived separate lives, and that worked until they crossed paths again in the summertime. Maybe having sex messed that up, but I don’t want it to. I want things back to the way they were.”

“Why do we have to live separate lives outside of the lake? You’re one of my best friends. I would love to share all of my life with you. But I feel like I know nothing about you.”

“Why now, though? Why didn’t you want me to be part of your life or know more about mine away from here before last summer?”

“I never said I didn’t!” He stated firmly and stressfully pushed his hand through his hair. “That’s just always been how we worked. How can you expect me to know that was something you wanted when you didn’t express it either, Lennon? But I will say this; I care about you. I have feelings for you, alright? If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked you to stay over on that night last summer. That all seems pretty irrelevant now, though.”

"I-," Lennon started but had to stop as a voice cut her off.

"There she is," Max said as he and another guy that Brock didn't recognize approached them. "And Brock! Good to see you again."

"Uh, yeah," Brock replied hesitantly, suddenly not knowing what to say as he watched Max casually walk up and wrap his arm around Lennon's waist. "You too."

"Did we interrupt something?" Max asked while glancing at the other guy he was with, then moved his gaze between Brock and Lennon.

"No," Brock spoke and looked Lennon dead in the eye. "I guess we're done talking. I'll see you guys around."

"Brock, wait," Lennon said and pulled away from Max as Brock walked past them.

"Just like you, I don’t know what else to say, Lennon. Say hi to your family for me."

And with that, Lennon was left watching Brock leave her behind this time.

Later that evening, Brock was at home with his roommates, putting some plates into the dishwasher after they were all finished eating when Milo and Coolie started barking like crazy. He wasn't sure what was going on and looked at the rest of the guys, who all shrugged in response, then went over to the glass sliding door the dogs were standing in front of and saw what had them acting the way they were.

Outside he saw a woman hopping off a jetski, then watched as she pulled it up to the small shore that met his property. Once she was sure the jetski was beached enough and took off her lifejacket, she walked up the slope that led to the rest of the lawn, then walked across the grass onto the dock before sitting down at the edge of it and facing the water like she owned the place. It didn't take long for Brock to realize the girl was Lennon.

He then looked back at his roommates, all of who were watching him intently, almost as if they knew this was coming, but they all quickly looked away and pretended to be busy looking at something else. Brock rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. He didn't want to give them the satisfaction of a response, so instead, he stayed silent and opened the door so he could step outside.

Milo and Coolie continued barking as Brock slipped by them but didn't let them outside with him. He knew that Lennon wouldn't have just shown up unannounced after the talk they had earlier that day unless she really needed to get something off her chest, and Brock wanted to hear what she had to say without any interruption.

Lennon didn't look back as he walked across the grass and onto the dock. It was like she knew he'd join her regardless of how rough things may have seemed between them. And she would've been right for assuming that. As much as Brock wanted to be mad at Lennon, it still seemed like magnets pulled him towards her, and it just wasn't possible for him to fight.

Brock didn't say anything as he sat down next to his friend, just joined her in silence while they both looked out over the water and observed the sun as it began its descent in the late evening sky, but he couldn't keep himself from observing Lennon out of the corner of his eye and taking in how she looked.

Her hair wasn't tied back or anything. It just fell down her back in loose natural waves that shifted ever so slightly whenever there was a breeze. She wore a faded red Beatles pullover, which was somewhat ironic seeing as she was named after one of the band's members, making Brock smile because that was just a very Lennon thing to do. The sweater was paired with some jean shorts and Nike slides, but what caught his attention the most was her eyes. Lennon had light brown eyes that Brock thought were stunning all the time, but when the sun hit them just right, like it did in that moment, they seemed golden almost, and it was so hard to look away. He's always loved her eyes.

However, his moment of observing her in silence was cut short when she let out a sigh and then glanced towards him.

"New York," Lennon stated, earning herself a confused look from Brock.

"New York?" He asked, genuinely unsure of what she was implying. "Lennon-."

"That's where I'm from," she elaborated, then looked from him to the water again. "Upstate New York, to be exact, near the Buffalo area. My birthday is November 2nd. I was actually born in Minneapolis, but my parents moved when me and Mick were about ten months old for work and I hadn’t been back until they bought the lake house. Uh, when my parents found out my mom was pregnant, they thought they were expecting twin boys at first. They wanted to name me John after the Beatles still and then Michael after Mick Jagger, but when I came out a girl, they had to improvise."

Brock was speechless. He was so shocked. Lennon was telling him everything that he's always wondered about her and then some. He was intrigued, and there was no way he would stop her from sharing whatever she wanted to say.

"As you know, I took English and Literature in university," she continued. "I took that program at NYU and have been living in New York City for the past five years because of it. I have a freelancing job, which has been paying the bills. I've also spent the last month and a half applying to various master's programs at different schools, and it's been pretty discouraging if I'm completely honest. Since moving to NYC, I've made many trips to Toronto to visit Mick, seeing as that's where he went to school, but coming back to the lake each summer remains my favourite place to be, and you are a huge part of why Brock."

"Lemon, I didn't know any of this," he replied, shaking his head as he still processed everything she said.

"I know, that's why I'm telling you."

"Wow, I, I don't even know what to say. I've always wondered these things about you, but other than seeing you here; you've always been like a blank slate to me. I've known you for so long now, but I've never known so much about you. I just figured you never really wanted me to be part of your life outside of summer, y'know?"

"Yeah, about that," Lennon started and let out a small laugh. "That is so incorrect. You don't even know."

"What do you mean?" Brock questioned, feeling puzzled by her again.

"My friends in New York are huge into sports," she explained. "I can't even begin to explain how many times I've been dragged to a Yankees or Knicks game, but when it comes to the Rangers, I always look forward to it a bit more. They're not my team, I've got to give props to the Sabres for the hometown representation, and because of Mick, I started not entirely hating the Leafs. What always surprises my friends, though, is how adamant I get about going to the Rangers games whenever Vancouver is in the city. But I haven't told them I have a friend that plays on the team. They just think it's odd that I have a Boeser jersey."

"Woah, wait a minute. You've seen me play hockey?"

"Every time you've been in New York since starting with the Canucks, yeah."

"Lennon, what the hell?" He asked disbelievingly. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Lennon just shrugged before responding. "Like I said earlier today, Brock, it's always been you and the lake. I thought about messaging you but then figured you might not want me to and chickened myself out, so I never did. I don't know why I didn't just reach out, but now you know. So, please, never assume that I don't think about you when I'm not here. Because I do, all the damn time. And what happened between us last summer did mean something to me. You are way too important for it to not. I could never consider you as just a random hookup, Broccoli."

Brock could feel his heart swell an insane amount as she said that, but before he could say what he really wanted to in response, he needed to know something still.

"What about Max?"

"Max is not my boyfriend," she stated, not missing a beat. "He's one of my best friends from school, yeah, but we are not together. He's from Minneapolis, which was how we actually bonded when we first met after telling him my dad was from this area. And let me tell you, I've told him if I'm still single by 40, we're getting married, but I don't think that'll be happening. He's very happy with his boyfriend, Connor, who was on the dock with us earlier, and I would've happily introduced you to if you hadn't stormed away before I got the chance."

"For fucks sake," Brock said, not being able to stop himself from grinning at how stupidly he overreacted. "I am so bad for jumping to conclusions, aren't I?"

"You always have been."

They laughed together as Lennon nudged him with her shoulder teasingly, then a comfortable silence fell amongst them again. However, it didn't last too long because Lennon was speaking again soon after.

"I really am sorry for just leaving you last summer," she told him softly. "It's just- I knew I was going back to New York, and I figured it'd be easier if we didn't talk about what happened for both of us. I shouldn't have assumed that. It wasn't fair to you. But, I also have spent the last ten months thinking about you constantly. I like you too, Brock, more than I can explain, and I just feel stupidly vulnerable admitting that, but I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't have feelings for you that weren't entirely platonic. I don't expect things between us to be like they were last summer, but I missed you a whole freaking lot this past year and will be glad to have my best friend back."

"I would love nothing more than for that to happen," Brock responded and waited for her to look at him again before continuing. "Maybe we can; I don't know, take things slow? We can see what happens over the summer, what it all leads to and you know, actually talk after. I also want to know as much about you as I can, but only if you'll let me.”

"Please. And yes, I'll tell you whatever it is you want to know. I want to get to know more about you too if that's ok."

"Of course it is, I'd like that," he replied before falling silent again as his gaze dropped to her lips. Brock was overcome with the urge to close the already small space between him and Lennon by kissing her, but he didn't. Although he was pretty sure she wouldn't necessarily be opposed to him doing that, he didn't want to fuck this up by rushing into anything again. She, too, was way more than just a hookup to him and Brock wanted to make sure she knew that. "Will you stay over tonight?"

Lennon's eyes widened in surprise at Brock's question, but she quickly realized he wasn't trying to make a move. He just wanted to spend more time with her, and honestly, she loved the idea of just hanging out with him all night.

"Yes, absolutely," she stated. "I'll also never say no to Milo and Coolie snugs."

"Good, because I'm pretty sure I can still hear Coolie whining over the fact that he can't come out here and see you."

The two of them laughed, then stayed sitting together for a few more moments before Brock eventually stood and helped Lennon up, then made their way back to the house together.

~*~

Although nothing intimate happened that night between Brock and Lennon, aside from some cuddling as they both fell asleep in his bed, it set the pace for the rest of their summer. The two, once again, became inseparable.

The next few weeks went by very quickly, and everything was great. Lennon was over at Brock’s all the time, and he made sure to go over to her family’s house and visit with them lots too. Things were normal again. There was no tension as they hung out with all their friends. Brock even got to know Max a bit better, who, to Brock, ended up being a really cool guy. It was nice for him to hear more stories about Lennon’s life outside of the lake, and Brock loved every minute of it.

However, as good as things were with the two of them while keeping their relationship platonic, there was no denying both Brock and Lennon had intense feelings for each other.

From an outside perspective, it was apparent how much those two cared for each other, and it was often shown in the little things. It was gestures like Brock pulling Lennon onto his lap and wrapping her up in the blanket he had with him while having a bonfire. Or the time Lennon briefly gave Brock his Minnesota sweater back for a few hours while he was over at her house because she wanted it to smell like him again. It was so obvious the two of them had a thing. And yet, nothing more happened between them. They were both afraid that it may get fucked up again, which neither wanted. Especially with how fast summer seemed to pass by.

One Friday afternoon in late July, things hit a rough patch again.

Brock and Lennon were at his place, hanging out on the stairs of the back deck with Milo and Coolie, when Lennon dropped the bomb about having to leave the lake in the upcoming days.

Understandably, Brock was confused. He knew that he’d have to return to Vancouver in a few weeks to get ready for training camp and the upcoming season with the Canucks, but Brock thought he still had a few weeks left with Lennon at least. Brock took the news pretty well, but when he asked her why, feeling like he could after the talk they had on the dock over a month prior, she started shutting him out again.

“I’m moving,” Lennon stated as she shifted away from Brock, not getting up from where she sat between his legs on the step in front of him, but enough to let his arms, which he had wrapped around her shoulders as she leaned back against him, fall to his side again. “I have to go back to New York on Monday and start packing up my apartment. My master’s program isn’t there, and I knew this was coming. I just didn’t think it’d be so soon.”

Brock understood, he really did, but then he got thinking and became confused.

“You never told me you got into your program, Len. That’s great,” he replied and leaned forward so he could look at her better. “Where are you moving to?”

“Oh, um, you know, nowhere spectacular. Just the west coast.”

“Nice, what school? Maybe if it’s near a city with an NHL team, we can meet up when I play there. I’d also love for you to visit me in Vancouver if you’re able to or up for it.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she replied, smiling because she really liked that idea, but then it was like a switch went off in her mind, and that expression soon fell as she stood up from the stairs and turned to face him. “You know what, Brock, I have to go. I think my mom needed my help with something.”

That puzzled Brock even more.

“I was at your house with you yesterday when your parents left for Minneapolis,” he reminded her with a small laugh. “They said they were going for the weekend.”

“Oh, right.”

“Yeah. Uh, Is everything alright? You’re acting weird all of a sudden.”

“Everything’s fine,” Lennon lied, which Brock was aware of with the way she started picking at her nails and avoiding making eye contact with him. “I just have a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Lemon,” he started softly. “You know you can talk to me, right? You don’t have to block me out again.”

Lennon let out a sarcastic chuckle.

“Why does everyone always say that? Lennon quit blocking people out. Lennon, no one will continue breaking down those walls you put up all the time… But, no one gets that it’s just easier for me that way. I feel safer. It’s nothing personal.”

Brock’s expression fell at that a bit. “I get that, I do. Sometimes it is easier that way, but it’s also very lonely. You have people in your life that aren’t going to hurt you the way you think someone could. I want to think I’m one of those people.”

“You are, Broccoli,” she assured. “You always have been. I just, I can’t help but always think of the worst possible situation when going into new things. That’s just how my mind works. And even when it comes to you, when it comes to us and whatever we are, I’m still scared because there are so many unknowns. We don’t know what will happen when I leave for New York again, and I know I should’ve told you sooner, but I didn’t want to dampen the rest of our time here together. This has been the best summer I’ve had in a long time, and I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“You’re not ruining it,” he explained. “We know we both can’t stay at the lake forever, but that doesn’t mean we can’t bring what we have here with us when we leave. Lennon, I want you in my life all year round, not just when we’re here. I wish you realized that. And now, once you leave, it’s like I know nothing all over again because you won’t let me in enough to tell me. Which honestly sucks a lot.”

Lennon just looked back at him, not caring that her eyes were on the brink of overflowing with tears as she processed what he said. Brock cared for her. Probably more than any other guy she’s ever felt this intense of feelings for, but she was still absolutely terrified of accepting that for some reason.

“I’m sorry, Brock,” she said, then took a shaky breath as she stepped further away from him and started backing down the stairs. “I- I’m going to go, and please, don’t come after me. I promise I’ll say bye before I leave, but I just need to think.”

She then turned and rushed down the rest of the stairs without looking back. Brock immediately stood up and went to call after her, but Lennon was already rounding the corner that led to the driveway and soon disappeared out of sight. Milo and Coolie were about to go after her, but Brock stopped them as he heard a door close and the sounds of a car pulling out of the driveway. She was already gone again, and there was nothing he could do about it.

That night, Brock went to one of the bars nearby with their group of friends for a karaoke night. Lennon was initially supposed to join him and his roommates to venture over there together, but he knew that would no longer be the case after what happened earlier.

After Lennon left, Brock went back inside the house, and his roommates just knew something went down between them. However, when they asked, Brock didn’t want to talk about it and just kind of went to his room alone until it was time to leave later on.

He thought going out with their friends would make him feel a bit better and at least get his mind off the situation, but Lennon’s absence was way too noticeable for him even to try to enjoy himself. Brock didn’t take part in karaoke. Instead, he sat at one of the tables nursing a seltzer that was room temperature because he just wasn’t in the mood.

After an hour passed and Brock still hadn’t finished the drink or taken much part in the group outing whatsoever, he figured he might as well call it an early night and head home. However, before he could, someone sat down next to him and started talking to him.

“What are you doing over here by yourself?” Asked Michael, Lennon’s twin brother, before he sipped on his beer and gave Brock a judgy look that resembled the same one he’d received from Lennon many times before.

“Hey, Mick,” Brock greeted with a smile. “I’m just not feeling it, I guess. I think I’m going head out soon.”

“Fair enough. It seems like my sister felt the same way. What a no-show.”

Mick scoffed jokingly, then looked around at their friends. Brock let out a small laugh and shrugged in response, but then he figured that maybe he could ask about Lennon seeing as he knew her twin probably knew more than he did.

“Speaking of your sister, do you know why she didn’t want to come out tonight?”

“I’m surprised you don’t,” Mick deadpanned. “But no, I haven’t been home. I figured she’d be here with you, actually, but I guess you never really know with her. I don’t know how you’re going to put up with living in the same place as her beyond the summer.”

“Same place as her?” Brock asked.

“Yeah, Lennon got accepted to do her master’s at UBC in Van,” Mick replied, then watched as Brock’s eyes widened in shock. “Woah, wait. She didn’t tell you, did she?”

“No, didn’t mention it at all.”

“Fuck, of course not. I honestly wish I could say I was surprised, but then I’d be lying.”

Brock glanced down for a brief moment, still processing what he just told, then shook his head before responding. “Mick, I say this in the nicest way possible, but Lennon gives me fucking whiplash, I swear.”

“Join the club,” Mick laughed. “I’ve been president for almost 24 years now.”

“I just, how could she not tell me?”

At that, Mick’s expression turned a bit more serious than it was before, then he sighed.

“I know it may not seem like it right now, but she really does care about you, Brock. More than she’ll let herself admit. You’re someone that’s important to her and has been for a very long time.”

“I wish she had a better way of showing it. Then I wouldn’t have to doubt so much.”

“I know,” Mick replied. “It’s a lot. But, let me tell you that what Lennon feels for you is very different from what she’s felt for any other guy before. My sister has been in a relationship with a fair share of people. I’m talking frat guys to Wall Street douchebags, she has had a few what could have been serious relationships, but those guys were not it for her. They betrayed her trust, belittled her for getting too in her head at times and then left her in the dust after they broke her. She’s always blamed herself for that and hated that she even bothered putting her heart out there, so it’s something she struggles with. But with you, Brock, she can be herself. I see Lennon at her happiest when we’re here, and it’s because of you. That’s not even something I have to think about because it’s always been that way. You’re her best friend, but what she feels for you is more than that and what it is, is that she’s scared to admit it. She doesn’t want to ruin what the two of you already have or risk getting hurt in doing so.”

Brock didn’t know what to say. He hung on to every single word that Mick said and took a moment for him to wrap his head around it all, but he already knew what to say. He’d known for a while.

“Mick, there is not a single part of me that would ever want to hurt her,” Brock explained. “Lennon is just such an important part of my life, and after what happened last summer, I also didn’t want to fuck up what we have. But, I really want to.”

“I know,” Mick stated. “And I trust you with her, Brock, that’s why I told you all of this. I don’t think you’ll hurt my sister, and she deserves someone like you. Now, I know you probably have more that you want to say on that topic, but why don’t you say it to her. She’s gotta be at home, and I just think the two of you need to not lie about how you feel anymore.”

As Mick said that, Brock couldn’t help but smile, then nod in agreement before standing up and grabbing his keys. “You’re right. I’m going to go talk to her. Thanks, Mick. I’ll see you around.”

“Make good choices!”

It didn’t take long for Brock to drive to Lennon’s house, but everything was dark when he got there. He thought about texting her but decided against it because he knew she wouldn’t answer. So instead, he got out of his car and listened. Sure enough, he could hear City and Colour’s The Girl playing softly from the backyard and knew she was there.

Brock shut the car door, knowing that Lennon would hear it, then walked down the driveway on a mission.

By the time he reached the backyard, Lennon was leaning over the railing, trying to see who it was that just got there, and Brock didn’t miss the way her eyes widened in surprise after realizing it was him.

“Brock?” She asked, then moved over to the top of the stairs as he climbed up them, still not saying anything. “What’re you-.”

Before Lennon could finish asking her question, she was cut off by Brock as he wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her towards him, not stopping until their lips met in a very firm yet delicate kiss. He took her by surprise, but Lennon reacted by closing her eyes and melting into his touch, then wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and kept him close as she deepened the kiss.

After a moment, the two of them broke away slightly, and Brock leaned his head against her’s, smiling like crazy.

“I wish I didn’t wait a month to do that again,” he said, making Lennon laugh.

“I’m not complaining,” she replied. “That’s definitely one way to make an entrance, though. But why do I have a feeling there’s more to why you’re here besides just wanting to kiss me?”

Brock smiled at that because she was right, but before he could respond, he needed to think about what he wanted to say first. As he did that, he noticed that she was wearing the same outfit as she was earlier, right down to the messy bun, but now she wore his Minnesota sweater again, and his smile grew at that. Although the sun had already set, Lennon’s eyes still glowed with how the fairy lights strung around the deck reflected in them and that mixed with the Dallas Green’s voice still singing in the background. It was tough for Brock not to just lean down and kiss her again. But he knew he couldn’t, not right away at least.

“You’re right,” he told her, then let out a breath and smirked as the song changed to She Will Be Loved. “There’s something else I want to talk about, something we haven’t discussed yet.”

“What’s that?”

“Come back to Vancouver with me. After you’re packed up in New York, let’s go to Van together.”

“Wait, you know that’s where I’m moving?” Lennon asked, surprised. “Mick told you, didn’t he? Brock, I didn’t tell you because I thought-.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Brock cut off her ranting and smiled. “It doesn’t matter. I want you there, Lennon. I want to be with you while you’re there, as more than just your friend.”

A surprised gasp left Lennon’s mouth, but she recovered quickly by smiling and pulling him in for another kiss.

“As long as I get to do that all the time, I’m game,” she responded after she broke away from him briefly, then let him close the space between them again.

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

Without even having to voice it, Lennon started leading him back towards the house, hinting at how she wanted him to stay the night, and there was no way Brock was going to say no to that.

~*~

“I had a feeling you’d have a lot of things, but I was not expecting this,” Brock huffed as he peeked out from behind a stack of moving boxes. He and Lennon were standing in the living room of her new Vancouver apartment, getting ready to unpack everything. “This is excessive.”

“Shut up, the place was unfurnished,” she grumbled in response. “What did you expect?”

“I’m just saying, this would’ve been a lot less of a hassle if you had moved in with me.”

Lennon gave her boyfriend an unimpressed look, which he responded to with a wink and a smirk before he walked towards her and pulled her into his embrace.

It was the end of August, and Lennon was finally ready to move into her new place. After she left the lake for New York a month prior, it took her about a week to get everything packed up and organized for the move to British Columbia. Lennon already had a storage locker rented in Vancouver to keep her stuff in until she was able to start moving into her apartment and had plans to go back to the lake until her lease began on the first of September and spend the rest of the summer with Brock. However, when she, Mick and their parents landed at the Vancouver airport, he was already there waiting for them.

He helped them get everything to the storage locker. Then, after Lennon’s family left to go back to the lake, she stayed with Brock at his condo with Milo and Coolie for about three weeks before getting the keys to her place.

“That’s a little forward, don’t you think?” Lennon teased him. “What a strange thing to say to your girlfriend of what, a month?”

“I mean, I’ve also known my girlfriend for almost half my life, so does that month really make a difference?”

“Cheeky,” she responded, then stood on her tiptoes so she could peck his lips before moving away from him and over to where her phone rested on the small breakfast bar. “We can see where we’re at when this lease is up. But for now, I hope you’re ready to listen to the entire Lumineers discography as we start tackling these boxes.”

“Oh, you know it,” he told her as a matter -of- factly. “And let’s not forget about the wine in the fridge.”

“Yes, we can enjoy it once there’s room to sit down somewhere.”

Brock laughed in response and shook his head as Lennon pressed play on her phone and Sleep On The Floor started playing from her Bluetooth speaker.

The two of them then started moving the boxes labelled ‘clothes’ to Lennon’s bedroom and started there. All of the furniture Lennon bought was set up already, so it was just a matter of putting things away and getting them organized. They got right to work, and although Brock was going to leave putting the clothes away to Lennon, so they went where she wanted, he figured he could at least unpack them so that she could just grab the items and go. Lennon grabbed a box and started unpacking it, so Brock did the same but had to pause once he opened the box closest to him and saw what was there.

Laying on top of a pile of sweaters was the Boeser jersey Lennon told him about. Until that moment, Brock completely forgot that she had one, but it sure made him feel good seeing it for himself. A smile tugged at his lips as he lifted it from the box and set it on the bed, then glanced at Lennon to see if she saw his reaction. She was busy getting ready to hang things up in the closet, proving that she hadn’t seen him, which Brock was perfectly content with. He did, however, feel himself getting overly happy at the thought of seeing her wear the jersey that upcoming season and grinned even wider because of it. Brock had a really good feeling about them as a couple and couldn’t wait to see where things went from there.

#brock boeser imagine #brock boeser fanfiction #brock boeser fic #vancouver canucks imagine #brock boeser story #canucks fic #canucks imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fic #hockey fanfiction

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hualianff · 3 years

Text

Mi Amor(tentia) II 《I》

Every Sunday, XL personally delivers the ingredients to HC to restock after each week. Sometimes it’s during the morning before classes, HC inviting XL to stay and chat over coffee.

Other times, it’s in the middle of HC’s classes because XL’s only has so many chunks of free time to drop the ingredients off. XL usually keeps himself scarce as he helps himself to deposit the ingredients off on HC’s desk in his office.

On days XL is especially busy with classes, meetings with outside personnel and tending to the school’s greenhouse, his sixth-year teaching assistant, BY, will deliver ingredients to HC.

HC is easily the person XL enjoys spending time with the most. They have such fun conversations and HC makes XL feel so comfortable and listened to. Plus, HC is undeniably charming and handsome. XL thanks whatever higher power there is that someone as refined as HC took XL under his wing.

XL has learned and observed that HC is a professor that students either love or hate. Some perceive the potions professor as sketchy-looking and unfair in his grading. They take HC’s pushing as ridiculing, then complain about their poor marks after refusing to do the bare minimum of the assignment.

(Unbeknownst to HC, XL has taken it upon himself to passive aggressively warn these students from bad-mouthing HC in the hallways.)

Understandably, The first year students absolutely cower in HC’s presence. But from fourth year and up, HC is one of the most loved professors. When HC begins to passionately lecture with really big hand gestures and funny word combinations, the students can’t help but admire him with starry eyes.

(Student: “Hua Lao Shi, I don’t think ‘impossibleness’ is a word.”

HC: “It is now. As I was saying, don’t let the impossibleness of a goal influence your confidence in working towards it. You should not pay attention to whether something is possible or not, but rather focus on what steps you’re taking to find your answer.)

He’s clearly smart; intellectually based from the readings he assigns students from his own books; socially as his humor is always on point and he never misses a beat to tease his students; and emotionally because HC does not tolerate bullying in his house or his classroom. (Nor in the school, if he can help it.)

HC himself was bullied back in the muggle orphanage and during his time at Hogwarts. He knows what it feels like to wake up dreading going to classes and interacting with people who had nothing better to do than put others down.

So while HC can seem intimidating and blunt at first, he genuinely has his students’ best interests and wellbeing in mind. Witnessing how seriously HC takes his job as a teacher and trusted adult figure, XL’s feelings wrap around him like vines and squeeze him in their hold anytime he’s around HC.

XL’s never had a crush like this before.

Later in the semester, XL and HC are chosen as the professors to monitor the first years on their first trip to Hogsmeade. There is no doubt the transfiguration professor, SQX, took part in pulling some strings to make this happen for XL.

What no one knows is that the defense against the dark arts professor also played matchmaker. In an intense game of wizard's chest that unfortunately ended in his defeat, HX was forced to nominate HC to go with XL.

HC and XL make the best guides. XL is very enthusiastic in answering first years’ questions while HC is good at describing things through muggle terminology.

During his years at Hogwarts, XL has always loved the Hogsmeade trips and bought new candies from Honeydukes each time. In fact, he has a huge sweet tooth that he can never satisfy. Cue XL showing the students around Honeydukes and HC buying all of XL’s favorite goodies in the background.

When it’s time to move on to the next store, HC presents the bagged sweets to XL with a smile.

(XL, staring at the bagged sweets: “San Lang! You shouldn’t have!”

HC, grabbing XL’s hand and physically transferring the bag: “Nonsense. Gege deserves a reward for working so hard lately. Giving him a few candies is the least I can do.”

XL, clutching the bag tightly, fingers tingling from brushing against HC’s own: “If you insist. Many thanks, San Lang.”

XL snacks on some sweets for the rest of the trip. HC watches with a pleased eye.)

One day during finals week before winter break, XL falls ill with a terrible migraine. He’s been prone to migraines for a while now, which he’s used to enduring with medicine tablets that don’t do much to ease the pain.

XL manages to get through his morning classes. But by lunch time, his stomach pain worsened tenfold to which HC, who planned on having lunch with XL, convinced the herbology professor to take the rest of the day off.

“But my classes-” XL’s voice breaks off as he winces as another wave of nausea sweeps through his body. HC puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I will fill in for you,” HC assures. XL looks like he’s about to protest, however, the potions professor holds a finger up to his lips. “I can quickly brew something up for your pain. You like the smell of eucalyptus, right? I can add a faint scent to soothe your sinuses too.”

“San Lang…”

HC fixes XL with a pointed stare. XL’s face softens, eyes closing in defeat.

“Thank you,” he says gratefully. Without thinking, HC reaches over to cup XL’s cheek, sliding back to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear before massaging his temple.

“It’s not a problem. Gege needs rest.”

Luckily, HC doesn’t have afternoon classes lined up for the afternoon. Once XL has retired to his room to relax, HC settles behind XL’s desk as students filter in for class to take the final exam.

(Students who had potions that morning entering the herbology room: “Oh shit-”)

Between classes, HC completes the tasks written in XL’s planner he left during lunch. Unfortunately, HC has a certain TA who sidles up next to him out of nowhere, whispering inconspicuously, “I know you have the hots for Xie Lao Shi.”

HC, who had been marking scrolls, jolts in shock. His left hand streaks across the parchment, leaving a red trail in its wake.

(Student who receives his scroll with a huge red line: “The fuck???? Does this mean it’s wrong? Do I need to do it again?”)

HC ignores BY as he continues about his business. Except BY rolls a chair right beside the desk, her prying eyes making HC feel like he needs to cover more than just his right eye.

“Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Liar.”

“Watch how you speak to your professor, young lady-”

“Watch how you speak to your professor, young lady,” BY repeats in a nasally voice. HC tightly clenches the pen in his hand. BY, unfazed about testing HC’s patience, sighs pitifully. “Sorry, Hua Lao Shi. I swear, I’m only trying to help.”

“Help with what?” HC asks, attempting to remain oblivious. BY gives HC a deadpan. “Ok, fine. How could you possibly help?”

“Well, I heard that Xie Lao Shi might be crushing on another professor-” HC chokes on his spit. “-and maybe you two…”

BY taps the tips of her pointer fingers together.

“What!?” HC aggressively clears his throat. The scrolls are long forgotten now. “H-how do you know?”

“He told me,” BY reveals, smirking like the devil’s child.

“Who is it? Tell me more,” HC demands.

“Ah ah ah–you first.”

HC can’t believe this girl who has him cornered is the same timid third-year transfer student who couldn’t even look him in the eye. He bites his tongue, reluctant to discuss his person of interest with a seventeen-year-old. BY just sits there, looking unbothered as she examines her nails while waiting for HC to cave.

It doesn’t take more than ten minutes before HC admits it.

“Fine. Yes, I like Xie Lao Shi.”

“What do you like about him?” BY asks immediately. HC itches to take points from Hufflepuff; what is this, an interrogation?

To no one’s surprise, HC spends the next half hour praising XL’s selling points (which are all of them) and subtly hinting how plans to ask the herbology professor out soon. BY unhelpfully inputs that HC needs to confess his feelings first.

“And then he needs to accept your feelings too,” she adds, much to HC’s irritation.

“I thought you were helping me?”

“I am,” BY smiles innocently. “By listening.”

“You’re not going to tell me who…?” HC falls silent, glaring at the last scroll he finished grading. A glance at his watch indicates there are fifteen minutes left before the final class of the day begins.

“Of course not. I don’t go around spilling professors’ secrets, especially Xie Lao Shi’s,” BY says. HC nods in resignation.

BY doesn’t tell HC shit in the end, yet somehow made him unload a few things about his feelings regarding XL. HC supposes she was right about the listening part.

Must be some sort of witchcraft. (HC tells himself that XL definitely would’ve laughed at this thought.)

Strangely, HC feels better after this little confessional session. Though he is incredibly curious as to who has caught XL’s eye in this school. HC’s heart painfully twists in on itself at the possibility that it’s anyone but him.

HC desperately hopes BY’s rule about not sharing secrets applies to him as well.

《III》

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #hualian au #xie lian #hua cheng #HP AU #cerdrabbles #TBC #Banyue is menace #she and HC are close though #XL simps club #no I still don’t support JKR

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urlocalnctstan · 4 years

Text

The Beauty And The Beast

Epoch 1

Autumn was here. The surroundings that were once green were now adorned in hues of orange and brown. Jaehyun flipped through the book he was currently reading, who's title went by 'Summerhill', subconsciously reminding himself to read it again as he finished it again for the hundredth time, to be precise, 113th. He sipped on his black tea as his eyes drifted towards the wooden window, observing the new change in nature. Neither seasons nor weather mattered to him, at the end of the day it would only be him all alone after all. His eyes lingered for a moment on the orange leaves until he felt the need to get up, debating silently on what library he should visit next, preferably somewhere desolate.

He despised human interaction; the hunger at times just kicks in when he can hardly control himself to stay composed. Things were not supposed to be this way, his whole family, his brothers would have been here if it were not for that dreadful malicious night. He passed through his library, the vintage touch of the best designers very prominent. The walls were transformed into wooden shelves, stained and burnished in textures of a brown oak tree. It was no surprise the whole library was filled with books, the shelves divided into 10 for all the brothers. Jaehyun did not reside on a specific genre, he loved to surf around all the categories, whilst the interests of others ranged from fantasies to science fiction. He liked the smell of the library, the odd scent of paper and wood subtly brought him comfort, for it would stage an illusion for him, making him feel that he was not the only one here. Living all alone for over 50 years has indeed made him more anti-social, his demeanor a big contrast to the one he had before all the tragedy occurred.

You on the other hand stayed still, cursing yourself for not arranging the books, and it was only seconds before the lady would recognize your negligence. You prayed, desperately clutched your hands, and silently kept praying, it was your only job and you cannot afford to lose it. As if in a response to your prayers, a man, probably in his mid-twenties entered the worn-out shabby premises, catching you off guard because literally, no one visits this rotten library. However, as he came closer, you felt your breath hitch as you took a nervous gulp; that man was breathtaking. His brown coat accentuated his broad build, the black hat perfectly resting on his black hair.

"I came to return this book," he scrunched his nose, it was enough for you to understand his distaste, slightly feeling embarrassed since you were the one who suggested it. Your manager lady similarly caught on the young man's comprehensible expression, shooting me a warning look that it could be my last chance to save my job. For a shitty library, it surprisingly paid you well.

"I am extremely sorry for my negligence sir, how about this, I'll bring you the newest and most popular books every week?" You anxiously fidgeted as you brought out the library logbook, scribbling down the return.

"I-uh...that would be very courteous of you. Thank you..." he eyes trailed on your tag, "Ms.Y/N."

"Thank you thank you thank you so much, young man, you're a lifesaver." You grabbed his hands, shaking them furiously in gratitude. His hands were oddly cold, too cold actually.

Jaehyun felt weird, it had been years since he had faced any human interaction. He quickly withdrew his hands, his now pink ears hidden by his black. Nonetheless, he was kind of grateful he would not have to face 2 hours long entourage to the library.

"I was about to lose my only regular customer, all because of your stupid choice," the lady scoffed, scrutinizing your every movement whilst you were cleaning the shelves. He was a regular but I never met him. "I shouldn't have fired the other one listening to you." She flashed you one last alarming look before storming out of the place. You let out all breathe that you had been holding while she was here, thanking heavens for not screwing up your life. While you held the book that read 'Summerhill', you could not help but let your mind wander to the only encounter you had today, apart from your manager lady's wrath. Why is it that I had failed to meet this Greek God in the past three months I’ve been working? You thought to yourself, organizing the suggestion shelf, the culprit which caused the book to land upon the hands of the Greek God, namely Jaehyun. With a loud audible huff, you decided it would be better to just organize the whole suggestion shelf, quietly reminding yourself to not be so biased on the books you chose just because the author was your favorite.

It was almost evenfall when Jaehyun reached back abode, the dilapidated exterior did no justice to its actual architectural essence, and the touches of the Victorian designs camouflaged by the overgrown bushes, the oak trees stood menacingly in the rear. At a glance, anyone would have thought it was a creepily haunted house, home to all the demonic supernatural things that could come to one’s mind. Jaehyun internally cringed for a brief moment, even after all these years, his laziness in keeping his home neat was still something he had to work on. Jaehyun felt shivers running down his spine as he thought how badly Taeyong would have reacted if he were to sight this view.

He felt his still heart tug, the probable scenarios of his brothers painting themselves in the back of his mind, how ecstatic and chaotically pleasant it would have been with them by his side, one and united again. For the first time that year, he went to the forbidden chamber in the mansion.

The room resided in the right west wing on the second floor of the villa. The long corridor that leads to the room barely had any light, the large velvet curtains were draped against the huge windows. With heavy steps he climbed up the wooden stairs, only the sounds of the woods creaking and his heavy breathing being audible. He wanted to retreat as he stood in front of the door, the wood had become too worn-out, the insects starting to make it their forever habitat. Jaehyun was unsure of the overwhelming emotions he was facing; he was hurt, scared but most importantly guilty. The fact that his brothers were in this state, all because of him, this guilt eats him up every day. He pulled the handle, the bronze material felt cold against his already cold pale skin. As he stepped inside, he was welcomed by all his brothers, standing still and lifeless. Jaehyun was cursed with loneliness for 51 years, all because he was too prideful and selfish to think of anyone else but himself. His brothers might have been the only exception; he treasured all of them with all of his heart. But he remained cold to the others, as he would call them 'outsiders'. At times when he would go out with his brothers, he would cross people suffering in cold or starvation, but never once did he have the heart to aid them with their trivial surviving necessities. Clouded in his superiority, he never claimed any of the girls he had been with, treated them as either one-night-stands or a way of passing his boring time.

One winter night, the heavens decided to test his limits of such obnoxious egoistic nature. A highly respected priestess roaming around the jungle seemed to have lost her way back, and thus decided she might just rest the night. She was always in her house, training to be more and more powerful until she became one. Completely inexperienced of human nature, her curiosity lead her to explore what it was like to live normally for a day, eventually leading to an aristocratic family's residence, the NEO Residence. They were the most powerful families of the 1800s, their fame and wealth being no new news to anyone. But she still decided to see if their wealth and fame were equivalent to their kindness. The priestess disguised herself in the clothing of a pregnant woman, her dress completely soiled and ragged; making her seem pitiful and powerless. She chanted something eerily magical, instantly transforming the calm snowfall into a vicious snowstorm.

Back at the NEO residents, the young men seemed to get baffled at the sudden change of demeanor of the weather. Johnny was the first to notice, keeping aside the book he was previously reading as he went over to the large windows of their house, the wood felt cold and beads of ice were already starting to form on the contrary side of the window glass.

“Taeil, Taeyong, what just happened?” He motioned the other two towards the window he stood in front, both failing to grasp the situation.

“Maybe it’s just an unprecedented snowstorm; don’t worry brother it’ll die soon.” He said despite feeling a bit uneasy for some reason. Neither Taeil nor Johnny could avoid their anxiousness; they felt something but could not quite comprehend the reason behind it. Similarly, the others started to take notice of the situation as well; Doyoung sprinting off to get Mark and Haechan from their rooms whilst Yuta stayed beside Jungwoo in case if he had a panic attack. But one seems to remain just as unbothered and lofty prideful as usual, Jaehyun. Winwin ushered Taeyong where Jaehyun was sitting, annoyed by his way too relaxed composure. Taeyong just nodded, as if he was telling Winwin that he would talk to Jaehyun for being like this yet again; at that point, it had become something very common for him.

“I don’t feel good about this,” Yuta sighed, rubbing the temples of his forehead.

“Neither do we brother,” Taeil said as he looked at Johnny, their worried glances meeting each other before the latter went over towards the window again.

“It is showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.” Johnny inspected before pulling over the curtains; an attempt to calm themselves down by concealing the ruckus occurring outside.

“Aren’t you all tiring out yourselves a bit too much?” Jaehyun got up from his seat, swirling the red wine gracefully in the expensive sherry glass he was holding. “Come on, brothers, it is just a snowstorm. Nothing can ever happen to us.”

“Jaehyun, can you for once stop being so obnoxious and think rationally? Do you really think it’s just a normal storm going on out there?” Winwin exclaimed, his face filled with rage.

“Not my problem, ya’ll go ahead tire yourselves out.” Jaehyun pursed his lips before returning to his seat, filling up his empty glass yet again.

Just then, they heard soft knocks coming from the main door of their house, followed by pleas for help. Taeyong rushed to the door, quickly opening as he was welcomed by the whirl of the snowstorm and a young poor pregnant lady. He quickly brought her inside before calling over Johnny and Yuta to shut the door, the force of the storm was a bit too much.

“I can’t find my way back to my house, please, let me stay for just one night.” the lady pleaded, barely holding herself up.

“Sure, no problem. We’ll ma-”

“No.” Jaehyun abruptly cut off Taeyong, staring at his intently at the lady. “You don’t have the right to, look at yourself,” Jaehyun scoffed as he stood up. “Do you really think you’re worth enough to stay here? Really?”

“Jaehyun stop it! Enough already!” Taeyong shouted, his loud voice echoing throughout the whole house. “For fuck’s sake, she’s pregnant, stop it.”

“Don’t try voicing out your opinions on me Taeyong.” Jaehyun now shifted his gaze towards his older brother, who was clearly outraged by his imprudence “Pregnant? It makes me not let her stay, even more, at least she’ll give birth to a normal human, unlike us.” He scoffed. “Or she is just gonna leave her child alone, just like our mother did.

“Stop it Jaehyun, you’re crossing it,” Taeil said calmly, contrasting his fuming self.

“Why big brother? Finally, feeling sorry for your girlfriend? Should have thought before he fed on her.”

“ENOUGH!” the lady yelled, her voice changing to her original. “My, my. My instincts were indeed right about you.” She chuckled as she looked directly towards Jaehyun, her green eyes glowing menacingly. The storm outside seemed to have shifted inside now, a tornado of green wind and sparkling dust surrounding the lady, the middle glowing with such tremendous light that the men had to cover their eyes in fear that they will go blind. As the tornado stopped, their faces went pale, they knew who she was.

“High Priestess Valery..” Haechan’s eyes widened in realization. The priestess smiled, clearly knowing the effect of authority she had on them

“Jaehyun it is huh?” She walked further towards him, whilst he still stood high despite the unsettling feeling he was then starting to feel in his half functioning heart. “You really think of yourself this high? No wonder even the headquarters nicknamed you imbecile.”

“We apologize for his gaffe, high priestess.” Taeyong knelt, the others following him.

Jaehyun felt his throat form a lump, he could not voice out an apology as he knelt for forgiveness. Disrespecting, that too the high priestess of the clan was a great omission; an act equivalent to committing high treason. Jaehyun knew he was doomed, he felt sicker and sicker as he thought about what could possibly happen next.

“I was actually looking forward to you know, rectify your spoiled little brother, but it seems to me that it is quite a handful of work.” She remarked, her bracelet with various initials glowing.

“We promise, we’ll discipline him more, high priestess.” Taeil pleaded. But Valery seemed to ignore all of their pleas.

“He needs to learn it by himself,” She said. “But you all are not quite the innocents as well.” Valery did something with her hands, fumes of lilac, and blue clouding around her fingers. A loud sound erupted as the gaseous colors spread throughout the hall, flashes of various images appearing. “Look carefully you foolish beings, look what you have been doing because of your monstrous selves.” “It wasn’t our fault, we were completely clueless as to what we were doing, and we knew nothing about our kinds,” Haechan exclaimed sorrowfully. “You kill innocents to satiate your beastly taste buds and still dare to say you’re not at fault?” Valery bellowed. “A death caused by accident or impulse is still nonetheless death to me, a murder.”

“As for you,” Valery said while pointing her forefinger towards Jaehyun. “You have shown me that not only you’re a beast outside, but also inside. I condemn you to eternal loneliness; your only family turning into lifeless statues, they can’t converse, eat, and sleep, a curse that shall remain for a lifetime if not broken within a span of 51 years, a curse that shall be broken only if a maiden chooses to fall for you despite your beastly nature.” And in a blink of an eye, she disappeared.

Jaehyun felt numb, his limbs paralyzing as he propped to the ground, seeing his brothers’ bodies turning into stones. Taeyong’s eyes glistened with tears, as it rolled down his cheeks, Jaehyun wondered if he would ever be able to free them from the wrath that befell them only because of him.

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malikmata · 3 years

Text

Notes from a Brown Boy - Kansas Diaries

*Author’s Note: Some people’s names have been changed to protect their identities

The rain was the first thing to greet me when I landed in Wichita. Overhead the gray clouds loomed, shadowing the farmland that yawned in the distance. Distance. At first glance, the city seemed like one long stretch of prairies and cracked parking lots, occasionally punctuated by billboards of grinning injury lawyers and lit up restaurant road signs.

If you spend enough time here amid the crumbling old buildings, watching the weeds sway in the vacant lots, you’ll feel the slow, inevitable creep of dread or something like it.

It’s easy to feel lonely here.

But, if you’re receptive enough, you’ll run into many friendly folks. Sometimes too friendly.

For example: During my first week, I went to Freddy’s, a local fast food chain, and ordered a crispy chicken sandwich with fries. The cashier, a young woman with glasses and short blonde hair, suddenly started confessing her fear that her 8-year old chihuahua wouldn’t live a long life.

“I still think of him as a teenager,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “He’s a chihuahua. They live long lives.”

Out here, in the most middle-of-the-road cities, you sometimes get a chance to show an act of passing kindness. While waiting in line at one of the hip, new cafes downtown, a place called Milkfloat, a tall elderly gentleman recommended which coffee and pastry to get.

“My wife says this place has the best cold brew in town.” Afterwards, grabbing his pastry and coffee, he wished me a good day. Most folks here always do and you better hope it comes true. Because here, like elsewhere, a day is filled with ordinary heartbreaks.

I will simply call her “Tita.” She works as a tailor at a department store, the only tailor working there, hemming and tapering racks full of suit pants under fluorescent lights. The nature of the job requires exact measurements and a keen eye for detail. She works hard, often skips lunch, and comes home dead tired. Her husband is recovering from 4 broken ribs after a car repair job went awry. Nothing can be done but wait until he gets better.

They live in a languid suburb on Wichita’s east side, a street with few sidewalks but plenty of lawn.

And noise. Plenty of noise. The neighborhood sits next to a car dealership. The skies overhead rumble continuously with airplanes and thunderstorms. Dogs bark at anyone who gets too close. A pickup truck blasts a corny country song as the cicadas and frogs belt out their lonely mating calls. Occasionally, a child’s laughter rises above it all.

Gossip is one of the great pastimes in towns like these. Even if you shut yourself up in your home, stories trickle in.

The neighbor across the street shot himself in the head.

The elderly couple that used to live next door got committed to a nursing home.

A fellow around the corner is on his third attempt to grow weed.

A college student starves himself morning to night so that he can save money for college.

Down the street, a kid lifts weights and punches the heavy bag hanging on his front porch.

Here, dumb luck seems, more so than in the big cities, the providence of God.

A man told me he got a job installing new carpets at a friend’s house. He was in desperate need of money, having sent most of it to his mother back home, who proceeded to gamble it away. When he ripped out the old carpet, he found a bundle of $10,000 dollars just lying there. His co-worker said, “We should split it.”

“No, no, we can’t take it.” the man said. He gave the money to his friend.

Sometime later, he went to the casino and couldn’t stop winning jackpot after jackpot. He brought home close to $16,000 in one night.

“So, if you do something good,” he told me, “God will remember that.”

Many people have come to live and die here, all of them wrapped up in the melancholic churning of faded ambitions and familial obligations.

Some people here have found something that returns them to the placidity they once felt in their youth. Sometimes that’s enough to keep them going.

For example:

I met Phil Uhlik, the namesake of the music store on E Douglas. He heard me playing an old Martin acoustic in one of the rooms. He shuffled in slightly hunched over, wearing a blue paisley shirt and brown shorts. He looked at the sunburst guitar in my hands and said, “It’s got a little beauty mark there.” He pointed to a small nick just above the sound hole. “All girls have beauty marks.” He pointed to his cheeks and smiled.

Uhlik started this music store 51 years ago and enjoys every moment of it.

“When you go to work for Boeing, that’s work,” he said. “But this, it doesn’t feel like work.” He motioned to the instruments all around him.

“How’d you get started?” I asked.

“I started off playing one of these,” he said, taking one of the accordions off a nearby shelf. As he strapped it on, all the years seemed to disappear. With a big crooked-teeth grin, he breathed life into the old accordion, his hands dancing up and down the keys. The smile never left his face as we bid farewell to each other.

I wish everyone in this world were as lucky as Phil.

I’m always seeking indie bookstores when I travel. Eighth Day Books provides much needed shelter from the summer heat. The shop was built 33 years ago and used to be located about half a mile east, in Clifton Square Village. About 17 years ago they moved to their current location, a 1920 Dutch-style colonial house on the corner of E Douglas and N Erie. Its blue trimmed windows peek through the foliage of neighboring trees.

When you walk in, you’ll see shelves of books on Christianity and Theological studies, most notably in the Eastern Orthodox tradition. I’ve never seen a bookshop with a section dedicated to Iconography.

Wichita, despite its size, feels like a small place. And with that cramped spaciousness, you’re likely to run into someone you may remember or who may remember you. Here I ran into my girlfriend’s 8th grade English teacher. A bald, bespectacled man with a gentle demeanor. After a bit of catching up, he said to us with a smile, “I hope all your dreams come true.”

The short story writer, Raymond Carver, once wrote: “Dreams… are what you wake up from.”

Wichita is a land that hypnotizes you; it makes you dream, dream of something beyond the miles of strip malls and airplane factories, beyond the shocks of wheat and windswept plains, beyond the doldrums and ennui. But it also shakes you awake, reminds you that you’re in it, that you better stop dreaming.

I’m not the religious sort anymore, having survived the regime laid down by my Catholic parents. But there is something enthralling, maybe even inspirational, when I look at the rows of beautifully painted portraits of saints and martyrs. Such solemn faces surrounded by golden halos. According to the Eastern Orthodox tradition, such paintings transcend art; they’re supposed to be windows through which you can glimpse the divine. They remind me of my grandparents with their judging eyes and moral seriousness.

My book haul for the day:

Snow Country by Yasunari Kawabata

The Diary of Anne Frank

Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries by Marina Tsvetaeva

Near to the Wild Heart by Clarice Lispector

In that last book, I found this lovely little passage:

…”in the Revolution, as always, the weight of everyday life falls on women: previously--in sheaves, now in sacks. Everyday life is a sack with holes. And you carry it anyway.”

From Earthly Signs, P. 40

According to the 2019 United States census bureau, 15.9% of Wichita's population lives below the poverty line. That’s higher than the state average, which hovers around 11.4%. That’s not the lowest nor is it the highest in the country. As befitting its location, Kansas is right in the middle.

The minimum wage in Kansas is still $7.25 despite efforts to increase it to $15. When Covid-19 hit, city and service workers bore the brunt of the impact. You can keep all your empty slogans like “We Love Our Frontline Workers.” Congratulate me all you want for my hard work but where’s my pay?

When you see that business here has returned to normal--people freely walking around without masks, no longer socially distancing--it still feels all too strange; we spent an entire year under lockdown. There’s still a pandemic by the way.

Loved ones fell ill, died alone, hooked up to ventilators in closed off hospital rooms. I believe every interaction now carries the weight of all those deaths. My family, like so many others, didn’t escape unscathed from the pandemic. My grandpa, Amang, caught Covid. Since he was an elderly citizen (and suffering from emphysema to boot), he was among those considered most at risk. We all feared the worst. Somehow he survived. The doctors called him a “trailblazer.”

Now, with businesses back to 100% capacity, I’m afraid that, just like the 1918 Flu epidemic, the past will fade like a nightmare upon waking. But it was so much more than that; it was an avoidable tragedy.

If you want to know what this pandemic has done to people and their livelihoods, is still doing to them, take a ride through downtown.

Things were already going bad before Covid hit. Back in 2004, the writer Thomas Frank wrote,

“There were so many closed shops in Wichita… that you could drive for blocks without ever leaving their empty parking lots, running parallel to the city streets past the shut-down sporting goods stores and toy stores and farm implement stores.”

What’s the Matter with Kansas: How Conservatives Won the Heart of America, P. 75

What led to all this blight? Frank attributes the decline to:

“the conservatives’ beloved free market capitalism, a system that, at its most unrestrained, has little use for smalltown merchants or the agricultural system that supported the small towns in the first place.”

-P. 79

The same story happens in a lot of places. A megacorporation keeps eating everything around it and leaves nothing else at the table.

The people are left hurting, a pit in their stomachs, and some asshole somewhere profits off of it.

While at the DMV, I overheard this:

“You have a good day now,” the security guard said.

“I’ll try my best,” a woman said.

My girlfriend heard them too and laughed.

“You really do have to try your best in order to have a good day here.”

At some point, we hit the town with a couple friends: Monica, and her boyfriend Will. Both are musicians trying to carve out their niche in a place that, on the surface, seems apathetic to creative pursuits.

It’s impossible to not be captured by their energy. As soon as we walk into their house, Monica, with her dark blonde hair draped over her shoulders, reached in for a hug. Will, a tall and bearded fellow with a bear-like presence, also went in for the hug.

“Ready to experience some Wichita nightlife?” Monica asked.

What is the nightlife here like? A group of high school punks wanted to fight us over a couple movie theater seats. Bored kids play rounds of “Chinese Fire Drill” at stop lights. I heard a nazi biker gang rolled into town at some point during my stay. Regular things like that.

At a low-key bar downtown called Luckys, I met a guy named Cory. He told me how he met a 15 year old kid loitering here, looking lost and forlorn.

“I don’t know what kind of advice I can give you but I’ll do the best I can,” Cory said.

This is the spirit I’ve often come across during my stay: A sort of slightly intrusive compassion. For a cynical Californian like me, the behavior seems a little strange, maybe even a little annoying. But I’ve come to appreciate the candor of it.

“Guaranteed we’ll know half the people here,” Will said.

Right away, he shook hands with the bartender—a high school friend of his—and asked him how his band was doing. Afterwards, we sat down and talked. Talking, after a year of pandemic lockdown, has become a lost art to me. But a little alcohol loosened the lips and suddenly I talked as though I’d known these people my whole life.

Will sipped his whisky on the rocks and told me:

“If everything in this world is meant to break down eventually, then any act of creation becomes an act of defiance.”

It may sound naive but to me, it’s true. I think about the words of the writer, John Berger:

Compassion defies the laws of necessity. To forget yourself and identify with a stranger has a power that defies the supposed natural order of things.

--The Shape of a Pocket, P. 179

Making art has to be, in some way, a compassion act, because it involves letting the environment and the people you meet speak for themselves, allowing a collaboration.

“When a painting is lifeless it is the result of the painter not having the nerve to get close enough for a collaboration to start… Every authentic painting demonstrates a collaboration.”

--The Shape of a Pocket, P. 16

You need to open yourself up, feel what someone is saying behind their words, and hopefully, feel what they feel.

Art, like Compassion, is defiant.

Among the 4 or so Asian markets here, you can find all the ingredients you need to cook up something good. During my first week, I stopped at a place called Grace Market. Like a lot of small Asian markets, it’s family run. A father from Taiwan. A mother from Korea. The son usually helps out when he can. Today (June 23), On this warm Wednesday morning, the son is manning the cash register.

“You’re from California? I’m from there too,” he said.

“Where at?” I asked.

“Sacramento. How about you? So Cal?”

“Nah, Bay Area.”

“Funny. That’s where my parents met.”

“Small world.”

On a different day, we met the father, a jovial man who never fails to say hi when you walk in. He came here over a couple decades ago from California, doing work for the US Army in Garden City. Once his service was over, he decided to stay in Kansas.

“I think you know why,” he said.

More and more young folks these days are leaving California. The high cost of living is presumably what’s driving this exodus. I told him I was also thinking of leaving the Golden State, as much as I love the place.

“Well, a town like this has a lot of potential if you want to save money,” he said. “If I tried to start this business in California, I don’t think I could’ve done it.”

The summer heat can, with the suddenness of a lightning flash, give way to thunderous storms. Speaking as someone from California, whose home has gone through excruciating periods of drought and wildfire, these nightly downpours are a startling yet relaxing sight.

The distant boom of thunder in the distance reminds you of how much of our lives depend on the weather, how small we are in comparison, how we are never separate from the goings-on of nature. The rain doesn’t come down lightly here. At night, it smacks and drums against the window pane with all the force of an animal trying to get inside.

But I don’t find myself frightened by it so much as awed by the combined power of wind and rain colliding against our rickety old house.

Kansas lies in the Great Plains, where layers of cool and warm air often combine into a low-level jet stream. Unimpeded by any natural obstacles on the wide flat plains, the wind roars across the expanse. Thunder growls over the prairie. And lightning flashes on the horizon in a fearsome red tinge.

The storm rages throughout the night, the only source of light in an ocean-sized plain.

“In general, the gods of the Wichita are spoken of as "dreams," and they are divided into four groups: Dreams-that-are-Above (Itskasanakatadiwaha), or, as the Skidi would say, the heavenly gods; and (2) Dreams-down-Here (Howwitsnetskasade), which, according to the Skidi terminology, are the earthly gods. The latter "dreams" in turn are divided into two groups: Dreams-living-in-Water (Itska-sanidwaha), and the Dreams-closest-to-Man (Tedetskasade)”

From The Mythology of the Wichita, P. 33

If you go downtown, you’ll see a sculpture called “The Keeper of the Plains.”

It’s almost 9 o’ clock when I get there, so large crowds have gathered to watch the ring of fire lit around its perimeter.

The statue was designed by indigenous artist and craftsman, Blackbear Bosin. Born in Cyril, Oklahoma, but living much of his adult life in Wichita, Kansas, Bosin was of Comanche and Kiowa descent and almost entirely self-taught as an artist.

When you come upon the Keeper of the Plains, standing tall on the fork of the Arkansas and Little Arkansas Rivers, you can’t help but feel a mix of admiration and sadness. It’s a striking statue, especially when set against the beautiful orange and lavender hues of the setting sun. But monuments like these end up reminding you of the Wichita peoples who were killed, displaced, driven from their land, and left to die in reservations, forgotten. The tribes that once lived here along the southern plains still show traces of their culture but now, you’ll see it mostly as a memory in a museum or as art hanging on the walls of a library.

I learned from a video by the Wichita Eagle that the last speaker of the Wichita language, Doris Jean Lamar, died back in 2016. It must be indescribably lonely to be the last speaker of a language. There is no one to have a conversation with, no one to whom you can confess your hopes or your regrets. But in the video, Lamar, even knowing that she is the last speaker, expresses hope that future generations will know what the language sounded like.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ScPkN_xGRI

Is forgiveness even possible when injustices are still committed today against native peoples everywhere?

Not enough can be said about the skies here, which seem at times so brilliantly marbled with peach and lavender colors that you begin to walk with your head perpetually craned upwards.

It’s this aspect, the overwhelming sense of the sublime, that will probably stay with me long after I’ve left Kansas.

I think again about the nature of dreams. It isn’t such a sin to dream about things, about things that haven’t happened yet, and about things that have happened. To quit dreaming seems too cynical, like admitting from the outset that everything is screwed, that you should stop trying.

During my stay here, I’ve met many people who aren’t so irony poisoned yet, people who are achingly sincere and kind. They haven’t stopped trying. There isn’t much room for cynicism here. I appreciate that a lot.

Farewell to you, Kansas, you and your clumps of cumulus and vast fields of cows and grass. I’ll see you again.

Check out Will’s music! It’s gloomy, melancholy, and LOUD!: https://teamtremolo.bandcamp.com/album/intruder

#diary #photoblog #photo diary #midwest #kansas #travel diaries

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rivalry-trope-enjoyer · 4 years

Text

Cursed Number (Kazunari)

Ship: Kazunari Miyoshi x reader

Rating: SFW (mentions of alcohol, but primarily fluff).

WC: 2,315

A/N: This is kind of my first x reader that I’ve done in a while, trying to break writer’s block and seeing where this goes <3.

It was something about the dreaded aura that filled the air the moment you stepped into the house. It reeked of strong-scented cologne and body odor all around you. If you had liked parties in the past, stepping into this one immediately changed that.

A man walked up to you with a red cup and masking tape pieces scattered all over his clothes, sauntering his way towards you and walking from side to side. “Hey, you there...!” he slurred his words together before scribbling on a random number on a piece of tape and handed it to you, nearly stumbling downwards as he patted the tape onto your shirt and crashed to the floor. “Now go and have some fun!” he groaned out with laughter.

You already felt extreme discomfort and tried to find a single place on the couch, one that was not drenched in spilled drinks or tipped over dip, cacophonous music bouncing from wall to wall and instantaneously wriggling into your ear. You were afraid to move, everyone around you had seemed so zombified by the overall vibe of the place.

Just as you thought you could finally breathe, after seconds of something happening, a group of college students, some you recognized from lectures immediately started crowding over the couch, not minding your presence, and sticking a bottle flat in the middle of the space.

“Alright, anyone down for some seven minutes in heaven?!

That cursed number.

You thought to yourself, Why does it seem everywhere I go it ends up like this?!

You rose to get up to avoid the game, but immediately the same drunken man that gave you a number blocked the exit, and you were forced to sit dangerously close next to a blonde boy with a sunny demeanor. He laughed as the bottle began to spin, while you cursed at him and the entire party internally.

You watched the glass bottle spin for what felt like eternity, anxiously tapping your foot as surprise, surprise, it landed between you and the blonde boy, and you turned to look at him, but his eyes were elsewhere.

He watched the closet door open ominously, and the blonde man was quickly shoved inside, you practically coming with. It was a dark, cramped space, and immediately terror struck.

The moment the closet doors shut and the lock clicked, you covered your mouth with your sweaty palms in order to keep it down. Panic rose to your throat, and the blonde man next to you tried to speak.

“I know this is all really sudden, and it looks like you aren’t really having a good time right now, aren’t you?” his tone was a warm light in the middle of the darkness you were stuck in, and he immediately shined a flashlight at his shoes.

The space between you two was little, but not uncomfortable enough to let out a blood-curdling scream. You looked at him letting out a goofy smile with a flashlight in his hand. He seemed almost radiant.

You shrugged your shoulders, lowering your hands once you saw he had no awful intent. “I came here on my own,” you sighed.

“Mhm, and I’m guessing it didn’t turn out well?” he continued to talk, but you were stunned at the fact he made no other advances.

You looked up at him in shock, and he took out his phone and a pair of headphones. “You gotta always take a friend with you to these kinds of things! They’re not entirely the safest, so I’m glad I caught you,” he spoke so enthusiastically, it made you forget about the entire situation as a whole.

“Sorry...,” you spoke out awkwardly, space closing in between you guys as he took out his phone to an empty contact space.

“That’s alright! My name’s Kazunari, I’ll go by Kazu, or whatever nickname you feel like using later. If you need a friend, we can add each other on Instablam,” he laughed after, and immediately became contagious, causing you to let out a little chuckle.

You instantaneously reached out to the phone, but hearing the laughter outside of the closet made you remember that once you two get out of there, it would rain hellfire.

Kazunari noticed the panic that rose to your face, and he swapped out of the contacts and onto YouTube. “Hey, it’s gonna be alright. I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want, but... there’s this seven minute video on a bunch of kittens getting fed if you wanna watch that. It doesn’t even have to be kittens, it can be puppies, too!”

You could not believe what you were hearing right now, but he scrolled through all of these cute animal videos that captured your heart, in a similar way this seemingly knight in shining armor has.

“That’s nice of you,” you spoke out of your panic, and immediately, Kazunari huddled next to you for support, handing you a headphone to watch the video he gestured towards. He let you pick between videos and it ultimately led to the kitten one.

For only a couple minutes you both sat close by the phone, arms touching and subtle hints of laughter and glee coming out of both of your guys’ mouth. Your head traveled to Kazunari’s shoulder, and naturally, his available arm fell over yours.

Blush rose to your cheeks at the act, the warm feeling that you got from Kazunari’s kindness was not because of the humid closet, or the cute animals that soothed your panic, but the gentle soothing gestures he gave you, enough to close your eyes for a moment and mentally thank him for what he had done for you.

You had just met him, and you weren’t sure if he knew your name, but immediately this situation caused by a cursed number turned into a seven minutes that you would never forget.

Ever since then, Kazunari’s kindness has always been apparent, and after exchanging numbers after the party, you found yourselves always in each other’s company. Day after day he would stop by your dorm or call you when he was at a party, asking if you wanted to come with. Other times he would ask for homework help, even when you were equally as lost on the assignment, he found every excuse to hang out when you were available.

“Hey, Y/n! There’s a party downtown, did you wanna come with?” he asked over the phone while you were doing your assignments.

Overflowing with stress, you were quick to decline. “I’d love to, but I have a lot of assignments due tonight, I don’t think I can-”

“Hold on, hold on, hold on. You said that yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, you sure you aren’t just ignoring me?” he asked teasingly.

You let out a sigh and laughed at the joke. “No, my professors just like to give a bunch of homework and I don’t think a party can help my procrastination,” you looked at the clock and watched the time tick till your assignment was due.

Kazunari laughed through the phone. “Ohhh, thanks for reminding me! I gotta get some of my stuff done, too. Can I stop by your place to get it done?” he asked enthusiastically.

You froze, watching your shocked expression against the reflection of your clock. “...Kazunari? Skipping a party for some assignments?” you choked out.

“And you too, Y/n! I love hanging out with you!”

It surprised you to the core, and it made your body freeze and thoughts filling your head. You fell in love for your close friend, and it wasn’t too hard to see why. He loved parties, socializing, anything that would give him a chance to see human interaction. But when you were stuck with homework and assignments, it didn’t make sense to why he’d blow it all off for you in your head.

Even with someone being such a social butterfly as Kazunari, he still carved time to hang out with you, a close friend that he had the same warm feeling around.

“Hello? Y/n? Sorry, my signal’s really bad ever since Sakyo started cutting off-”

“Hi, hi yes I’m here, sorry,” you spoke and gave yourself a facepalm.

“Haha, okay! Don’t overwork yourself before I get there! It’ll take... uhhh probably around seven minutes tops,” he laughed before hanging up. You put down your phone and thoughts overwhelmed your head while staring at a blank document on your computer screen.

“Work now, Kazunari later,” you muttered to yourself and started typing up your next assignment due.

After only a mere seven minutes of working, you heard a knock on your door and sprung out of your seat, launching towards the doorknob and greeted Kazunari with a smile.

“Hey, Y/n!” sunshine boy strikes again, and this time he brought a plastic bag filled with all of your favorite food and snacks and a handful of movies on the other. “I got these recommendations from my good friend, Muku. Wanna watch some with me?”

“What about your assignments? And mine?” you avoided thinking about the kind gesture, a flustered feeling spreading throughout your body, as he handed you the various items.

“You’ve been hacking at assignments all week! Aaaaand I stopped by your favorite cafe!” Kazunari had puppy dog eyes when you opened up the food he gave you.

Inhaling deeply at the temptation, you closed it shut. “Assignments,” you said in a strict voice.

“But it’s a lot,” he whined and crashed onto your bed. You sighed out and put the gifts to the side, staring at the clock.

“Well, it’s around 3 right now, and if you finish at 7, I’ll go eat food and watch movies with you,” you sat at your desk and started your homework.

“Wait wait wait, that’s not enough,” he said, walking up behind you.

“What? That is more than enough,” you turned around, but you watched the cheeky grin appear on his mouth.

“If you finish your assignments at 7, we both get to watch movies, eat delicious food, and on top of that, I get to kiss you!”

You nearly let out a cough at Kazunari’s suggestion, but it was not like you were gonna turn it down. He kept on smiling after you reacted so violently, but you slowly nodded your head.

“It’s a deal,” you felt a competitive fire rush in you, and Kazunari pulled up a chair next to you and laughed.

“I’ll be working then. Y/n~”

Hours and hours had passed, but not in complete silence. Kazunari kept talking and showing you posts and videos from Instablam, you were concerned if he was even doing his assignment at all. You mentally cursed yourself for the times you took the bait, but you were determined to get your incentive.

However Kazunari’s presence next to you was in a way, relaxing. As you wanted to scream into your pillow he fed you some of the food and your stress melted away. When you got stuck on a problem, he searched it up for you and tried to guide you through it. And the usual, whenever you felt a rise of panic, he’d stream a little cat video for the both of you to watch.

He was the most supportive person you could have ever possibly met, but each action caused you to freeze and grow flustered, melting in his action.

You finished at the dot, right before seven, and you looked at Kazunari with wide and tired eyes as you practically collapsed onto him.

“You did it Y/n!” he exclaimed supportively, wrapping his arms around you tight.

“I guess I did...,” you sighed out.

The both of you got up from your seats, his arms still snug around your waist as you comfortable buried your face in his chest. “I’m so tired...,” you whined out.

“Oh I know,” he teased, his fingers combing through your hair comfortably. “You go and relax, I’ll start the movie,” he led you to your own bed which you immediately crashed in.

Kazunari’s absence made you feel cold, causing you to crawl into your sheets, watching the screen turn on. Kazunari crawled into the bed with you, smiling as he laid down on his sight.

“So~” Kazunari had his usual goofy grin. “Did you really work your butt off for the movie, or to kiss me?” he asked smoothly.

You stared at him with your mouth open to answer, too lazy to get up in an attempt to hide your reddened face. “Well... did you come here to work on assignments or to hang out with me?”

Kazunari smiled and laid a hand on your face, his thumb caressing your cheek and letting the movie run in the background. “Well, who wouldn’t wanna hang out with such an amazing and cool person?”

You, hesitantly overlapped your hand with his on your face and returned the smile. “And who wouldn’t want to kiss such a nice, amazing guy like you?”

Kazunari laughed, a blush growing on his face. “You always know what to say, Y/n!” His face inched closer to you, and his nose gently brushed against yours.

“And you always know how to make me feel this way, Kazu,” you managed to whisper before he leaned in and kissed your lips softly, the warm feeling inside you only grew as he kissed you for what felt like a blissful eternity.

Even when he pulled away, the gap between you both did not lessen. “Hehe, I’m so glad I flaked on the party,” he continued to joke around, and he started to kiss you even more.

He made you feel safe, even when it was just the two of you, he was always there. It was all thanks to a cursed game, with a cursed number, but you managed to make a lifetime of heaven out of it.

#a3! x reader #kazunari x reader #kazunari miyoshi #act! addict! actors!#mankai a3!#mankai #x reader

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novantinuum · 4 years

Text

Intake (SUF one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen Audiences (TW: brief discussion of mental illness related topics like suicide ideation and intrusive thoughts.)

Words: 2800

Summary: Steven fills out an important form.

This is set multiple months pre The Future, and is a small glimpse into Steven’s journey to find a therapist.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

His leg bounces with a restless fervor as he slumps in the waiting room chair, clutching the clipboard and pencil the receptionist gave him with a white knuckled grip. Gaze hardened, he takes a good long look at the other patients spread across the room, a few of them appearing equally as spent and fidgety as him, and hunches over the intake form so his answers will be conclusively obscured from their view.

He grimaces. Ugh. Why would a place like this lay out their chairs so close, anyways? Why even give people the option of being nosey? He may be stuck seeing this therapist Connie’s mom recommended because he’s all messed up in the head, but it’s not like he wants the whole planet to know about it. Goodness knows all of Beach City and Little Homeworld already does thanks to his little ‘incident’ a month back. That’s bad enough.

His chest almost feeling hollow as he sighs, he scrawls in his name, his birthday, his cell number, address, and an emergency contact (Dad, who left for the car to give him privacy after signing a few forms he can’t fill out as a minor) on the lines indicated. He leaves out his many middle names for once, all of them leaving a bitter taste in his mouth at this present moment. Briefly, he wonders if this will be a problem, as these past few weeks Dr. Maheswaran assisted his dad in finally acquiring legal documentation and health insurance for him, and per those records he’s officially ‘Steven Quartz Universe’ in the eyes of the law.

Eventually he shrugs, figuring the likelihood of there being another sixteen-year-old ‘Steven Universe’ here today to confuse him with is nearing zero.

Okay, what’s next?

He briefly skims over the next few passages— a bunch of legalese about the terms of counselor-patient confidentiality and when they might have to breach that for safety reasons— and signs where indicated so they know he looked over it.

Someone sitting two chairs away coughs. He can’t help but flinch at the sudden noise, and folds himself tighter in his own seat as he flips over the first page of the form and continues to read.

In a few words, explain why you’ve chosen to reach out to us today. How can we help you?

Steven frowns, fingers twitching around the shaft of the pencil as he contemplates how to respond. For whatever reason, the question “explain why you’re here” feels very blunt and antagonistic to him in a way he can’t quite ascertain. Like... in a “give the wrong answer, get booted right out the door” sorta way. He lifts his head, peering at all the humans spread across the room, each and every one with their own story, the central character of their own worlds. Some are texting on their phones as they wait for the receptionist to call their names, others are filling out forms as well. What brought these people here, he wonders? Surely there’s plenty of people having a worse time than him right now. Surely there’s people with real problems, people who are literally struggling just to stay alive from day-to-day. He’s not like that, right? Besides that one little wobble a month back, he’s been handling his problems on his own fairly okay. Hasn’t he? So what makes him selfish enough to think that he’s worth anyone’s time?

In his pocket his phone vibrates, knocking him back into reality. He yanks it out and switches it on to look at the new text splashed across the lock screen:

Dad: Hey Schtu-ball, just wanna let you know that I’m proud of you and love you very much. You’ve got this!

He stares at these words for a good minute, the kind sentiment— despite reading as a little hopelessly over-encouraging— filling the hollow space in his chest partway. Even if his dad’s been a bit overbearing in his affections this past month, it’s clear he means well.

So. Why am I here today, he thinks, reading the question over again. He folds his fingers up into a stiff fist, pulling his thumb across his knuckles. After licking his chapped lips and shoving his phone back in his pocket, he scribbles a hasty reply.

I feel really angry and empty and tense and just want to be better.

The teen pauses, allowing those words to echo over and over in his mind, to truly sink in. It’s such a succinct and to-the-point admission that he suddenly wonders why he ever doubted he was less deserving of aid than anyone else in this waiting room.

His countenance a little lighter now and his shoulders growing less stiff, he moves on to the next section.

To aid our counselors in providing you the best possible care, please rate the following statements on a scale from zero to four, zero meaning “not at all like me,” and four meaning “extremely like me.”

Steven’s eyes dart across the length of the massive table below these instructions, his previous anxiety rushing back into his brittle bones as if it’d never left. Each row is host to a short sentence and five blank boxes, numbered zero to four. Read it and rate yourself, right? Should be simple enough. But as his glance flits over these statements and he understands the sort of personal, probing questions they’re asking through them, he begins to mistrust his previous burst of optimism. Dread floods his system, making his cheeks flush bright pink. Heart pounding at the mere thought of people staring, he drops his head lower, successfully hiding most of his face behind the clipboard until he can coax that betraying glow into fading away.

In the end, this goes to prove that it doesn’t matter if everyone says therapy will be ‘helpful’ for him; reflecting on all this junk is still gonna suck.

Quietly, he takes a steadying breath and forces himself to read on, to crack open the hornet’s nest that is the depths of his crap brain.

1. I am shy around others.

He considers this for a moment. Shy. Historically, this has never been a word people would use to describe him. For years he reveled in the thrill of meeting new people, new Gems. His childhood eagerness to engage in fellowship with those around is half the reason Era 3 even exists. And he’s fine around people he knows. Like, on a rare good day he has no problem playing board games or watching cheesy soap operas with his friends. But to be fair... as of late, his eagerness to meet anyone new feels like it’s all but vanished. Is that being shy? Or is that just him failing to care for anyone beyond his inner circle?

With a small shrug he checks the box for one, and moves on.

2. I don’t enjoy being around people as much as I used to.

Hmm. Probably a three. People are unintentionally exhausting these days. He used to be energized by social interaction, and now it just leaves him sucked dry. Most days he’d rather stick to his room.

3. I feel isolated and alone.

The weight of the diamond embedded in his belly— something he normally barely notices— grows ever more apparent as he marks off a four.

4. My heart often races for no good reason.

Uh, yeah. What happened just a minute ago is a pretty good tell. Four.

5. I have spells of terror or panic.

Another four.

6. I am anxious that I might have a panic attack while in public.

Four once more. He holds his pencil tighter, squirming in his seat as he tries (and fails) not to think about the pale scars spread across his back, hidden in his hairline, and on the underside of his arms, indentations that once marked the base of the crystalline spines that jut out from between his scales.

7. I think about food more than I’d like to.

Steven pauses at this one. For once, he’s not sure he can say this statement applies to him. Truth be told, he only started caring about what he put in his mouth earlier this year, when he cut meat and fish out of his diet. And that’s not... a bad thing? It’s not bad to want to consider the impact your food choices have on the environment? He definitely didn’t choose to do so for self-denying reasons, and that’s probably what they’re asking about. He checks zero, and moves on.

8. I feel out of control when I eat.

He almost checks another zero, but then he remembers that day after the proposal... and the week after his incident. And he decides that even if he doesn’t consciously obsess over the food he eats, there’s still a few occasions where once he starts snacking he finds it difficult to stop. A one it is, then.

9. I have sleep difficulties.

This statement nearly makes him laugh. Does he have sleep difficulties. Hah. He doesn’t think he’s gotten a truly restful night of sleep since he sacrificed himself to Homeworld at fourteen.

A solid four. No question.

10. My thoughts are racing.

Four.

11. I feel uncomfortable around people I don’t know.

Hmm. Two.

12. I drink alcohol frequently.

The only alcohol he’s ever had is a tiny sip of his dad’s with permission at Garnet’s wedding reception, and it tasted terrible. He has no interest in drinking again. Zero.

13. When I drink alcohol I can’t remember what happened.

Zero.

14. I drink more than I should.

Zero again.

15. I have done something I have regretted because of drinking.

Another zero. It almost makes him feel better, just knowing there’s a decent number of lines on this paper that aren’t a carbon copy of his lived experience.

16. I feel sad all the time.

Aaaand back to “the story of his life.” Briefly, he wonders if ‘feeling sad’ is the same thing as feeling nothing at all. But then again, does the difference really matter? He checks the box for three.

17. I am concerned that other people don’t like me.

Three. Although honestly, he’s even more concerned that people continue to like him after everything he’s done.

18. I feel worthless.

Steven nibbles at the inside of his cheek as he reads this statement, memories automatically flashing through the pathetic events of the last few weeks, through all the days he barely crawled out from under his covers, all the days he didn’t even manage to brush his teeth or run his fingers through his greasy, knotted hair, all those awful days he couldn’t so much as play one of his video games without growing tired of it in minutes and taking a restless nap for the rest of the afternoon instead.

Four.

19. I feel helpless.

Two. Everyday affairs are a drag, but at the very least he knows he can fight his way out of danger in a pinch. He wouldn’t call that helpless.

20. I have thoughts of ending my life.

He freezes. Goes back, reads this line again. Reads it a third time to make sure he’s not horrendously misconstruing the prompt he’s been given.

(Tries not to think too deeply about the graphic images that flood his imagination some nights. It’s just stray thoughts, though. He’s fine.)

One, he marks, although his muscles can’t help but twitch as he shifts his wrist, as if deep down he knows he’s underplaying his answer.

21. I feel tense.

Steven gives a small snort under his breath. Yeah, he outright admitted as much earlier in this form. Four.

22. I get angry easily.

His grip tightens.

Four.

23. I have difficulty controlling my temper.

He swallows hard, his mouth feeling abnormally dry. He’s not sure he likes how blunt and probing this questionnaire is becoming.

Four...

24. I sometimes feel like breaking or smashing things.

His knuckles go white around his pencil, and he only barely resists the temptation to snap it in half as he feels a rush of hard light flow the distance from his gem through the veins of his arm. Geeze, it’s not like he means to break things! It’s just that all of his stupid powers are linked with his emotions, and whenever he gets even marginally upset now things start to splinter, crack in half, and inevitably end up broken. Just another sign he’s fated to ruin everything around him forever, and that his intent doesn’t matter. Why do they have to pry into this? He already feels terrible enough for thinking these things.

Three, he checks, his eyes damp, but mostly because he’s too scared what their response will be otherwise.

25. I am not able to concentrate as well as usual.

He takes a deep breath, coaxing his body to return to a baseline state. Eh. He’ll give this a two.

26. I feel self-conscious around others.

His glance skirts over the edge of the clipboard to monitor the four others currently spread out across the room. One’s rhythmically swinging their legs, another is still filling out a form like him, but sitting criss-cross on the chair, and the other two are quietly typing on their phones. Thankfully none of them are pressing an ounce of attention his way, (at least, not right now), but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like an exposed nerve. Three.

27. I am afraid I may lose control and act violently.

The raw memories hit like lightning before he can even think to prepare.

Flashes of Pink. Orange fragments, cold and slick in his palms. Thunder splits the skies overhead, each cacophonous sound manifesting in perfect synchronicity with his erratic heartbeat, with each tidal wave of thoughts gushing like a maelstrom through his head: SHATTERER, I’m a shatterer, I’m—

Feeling almost dizzy from the intensity of his heart’s pulse, he knows with full certainty that his cheeks are glowing bright pink again. All he can do is clench his fists, suck down whatever amount of fresh air his lungs will allow, and pray to the very stars themselves that it’ll fade away before it garners the attention of every last human in this place.

He checks the box for four, pencil marking so hard that slivers of graphite splinter off onto the page, and moves on before he can be cowardly enough to change his answer.

28. I have thoughts of hurting others.

His fingernails claw into the thin denim at his knee, limbs outright quivering as he stews in his seat, as he’s forced to reflect upon all the ugly, ugly thoughts that have flit across his awareness over the past weeks. Thoughts about one Gem specifically. He’s... always been angry, always harbored deep resentment... but ever since his most recent trip to visit Her, he hasn’t been able to shake this awful idea: a vision of him standing over the remnants of her gemstone, shattered, fragments spilled across the otherwise pristine floors of Homeworld. He... he didn’t do it when he had the chance. He wouldn’t do it, would he?

(Orange fragments, cold and slick...)

Would he??

And yet nevertheless, the thought tortures him with its frequency, makes him feel downright nauseous at every turn. He doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want to feel this way at all.

Four.

29. I am unable to keep up with my schoolwork.

Stop. Sharp inhale. Staccato, shaky exhale. Repeat, deeper this time. Repeat.

(He can no longer see neon pink reflecting in the smooth metal clasp at the top of his clipboard.)

Okay. Schoolwork.

N/A, he writes in one of the boxes, arm still trembling from the last two questions despite his attempt at cool-down exercises. Not applicable. He hasn’t even been to school, and dreads the inevitability of this therapist asking about that mess.

30. It’s hard to stay motivated for my classes.

N/A.

31. I feel confident that I can succeed academically.

N/A, once more.

And like that, the questionnaire is over. Steven is quick to hide his answers behind the front page, and slides the pencil through the length of the metal clip. He glances around him, drinking in his surroundings with pinpoint precision. Despite his earlier concerns, no one is maliciously staring. No one’s whispering. He internally wrestled with a few challenging subjects and what do you know, it didn’t end in an embarrassingly public meltdown. He— he wipes a stray tear from his eye with the butt of his palm— he took a solid step forward today.

Coercing his body to move, he pulls himself out of the cushioned chair and crosses the room.

“I finished,” he says softly, proudly, as he hands the clipboard and pencil to the receptionist. She smiles and accepts his hard-fought offering.

For the first time in a while, the smile he instinctively flashes back almost feels genuine.

I want to be better, he thinks. I will be better.

____

Notes:

This fic is loosely based on my own experience of the intake process, and the questionnaire I had to fill out. No two intake experiences are the same though, of course. This is merely one possibility. I also take personal liberties on the way I depict Steven’s struggle with mental health, and acknowledge and respect that no two fans’ interpretation will be the same.

Additional notes: -Steven’s still a minor, so he can’t actually sign contracts. I figure Greg signed a handful of forms beforehand as his guardian, and then left to allow his son a bit of privacy with filling out the questionnaire stuff. Since he's a teen, they're still giving him the full confidentiality clauses to look over so he's wholly aware how that works, though.

-To expand on a brief comment made in the midst of this, I headcanon that Steven cut both meat and fish out of his diet, and thus actually slipped up on his vegetarian diet when he was training with Jasper. I interpret this as further showcasing how the poor kid— due to being mentally vulnerable at the time and thus liable to coercion/unwise decisions— began to take actions that went against much of his established morality. He ended up sacrificing his dietary choices during those days, just like he briefly sacrificed his pacifistic views to fight Jasper.

-I also headcanon that the therapist Steven is going in to see after this isn’t the one he eventually sticks with and mentions as “my new therapist” in The Future. It’s totally normal and okay to try a few different people to find someone who you click with, after all.

Thank you for reading!

#su #su future #steven universe #su fanfiction #my writing stuff #okay the official crosspost #here you go #i keep switching how i post fics here hhh #i LIKE having the ao3 link in the post itself #but when i do that the fic almost never shows up in tags so *shrugs*

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inkedstarlight · 4 years

Text

Bittersweet: Chapter Nine

Summary: Cassian and Nesta finally meet. Officially, this time. Let the romance commence. Notes: Read it here on AO3! Warnings: very brief/non-explicit mention of sexual assault Bittersweet Masterlist

“Earth to Nesta?”

Nesta snapped from her trance to see Emerie waving a hand in front of her face.

“You’ve been cleaning the same spot for a good ten minutes,” Emerie gestured to where Nesta was scrubbing the counter with a towel. It was squeaky clean.

Nesta let go of the towel and cleared her throat. “My bad.”

Emerie pulled out the chair on the other side of the counter and sat down. It was eleven in the evening on a Monday, and they had just closed. The only other person in Rita’s was Lucien, and he was doing dishes in the back.

“You’ve been acting weird for the past two weeks,” Emerie stated blatantly. Her stare was unwavering. “And you’ve lost at least ten pounds.”

The incidence with Tomas happened two weeks ago. Nesta was doing a pretty good job of moving on with her life all things considered. She felt like shit, but she hadn’t missed a single shift at work. That had to count for something.

But she should’ve known Emerie would notice. She was like a fucking hawk, that girl. She saw everything.

When Nesta didn’t say anything, Emerie shrugged and got up from the stool. “At least try a little harder,” she said, referring to the coworkers’ challenge to get the most tips. She shot Nesta a sad look. “Thesan is beating you. Thesan.”

Nesta mustered a laugh. Thesan wasn’t great with customers, that was common knowledge. Neither Emerie nor Nesta were people persons, but they knew how to turn it on for customers. Thesan, on the other hand, didn’t make much of an effort. It wasn’t that he was intentionally rude, the guy was just quiet in nature. In fact, he was quite a sweetheart.

Which was why it was quite entertaining to watch Thesan and Helion interact. Where Thesan was an introvert, Helion was loud as hell. Not to mention it was clear that Thesan was crushing on him. But unfortunately, Helion flirted with every living, breathing thing and was thus completely oblivious. During Nesta’s first week at Rita’s, Emerie had spilled all the tea about their coworkers. Thesan was head over heels in love with Helion, Helion had never been in a monogamous relationship, and Viviane… well, Viviane had her own little love story. A complicated one at that.

His name was Kallias. They grew up together, from scheming little kids to rebellious teenagers to young adults. Best friends since they could remember.

Because Emerie grew up in the same small town as them, she knew everything. They all went to school together. She knew that Kallias had been in love with Viviane since freshman year of high school. She knew that Viviane felt the same way, but she would never admit it thanks to the hell she was put through during her childhood. Nesta didn’t know the specifics, and she never asked.

It also didn’t help that Viviane was in a relationship with someone else. They’d been together for almost two years. Emerie thought Viviane deserved better, that he wasn’t a very good person.

Anyway, Kallias visited Rita’s nearly every weekend after his shift at the fire station to grab a drink and more importantly, see Viviane.

Nesta thought it was ridiculous. She’d told Emerie as much when she’d brought Nesta up to date on their coworkers’ lives. Why wouldn’t they just admit they loved each other and get on with it already? It was pretty fucking simple; they were just making it complicated for themselves. Emerie wholeheartedly agreed and the pair then went on an hour long rant on the idiocy of romantic relationships.

And if she was being honest, Nesta didn’t care much about these people. Sure, they were respectable but they were a temporary fixture in her life. Once she secured a job in her career field, she was going to leave them all behind.

“We should get a drink sometime. Outside of work,” Emerie clarified with a look of disgust. “I’m sick of it here.”

Nesta knew that was a lie based on the relationship Emerie had with Rita and her wife. But she didn’t say that.

“Maybe,” Nesta responded distractedly, desperate to think of an excuse. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Emerie; no, Nesta liked her coworker. She just couldn’t muster the energy to go out with friends or socialize like that. “I’m pretty busy right now though.”

Emerie narrowed her eyes and scrutinized her.

“Stop analyzing me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Emerie sighed and receded. She hesitated before saying quietly, “Is… is this the part when I ask if you’re okay and we get all deep and explore a new level of our friendship?”

Nesta slowly met her friend’s gaze. They stared at one another for several moments.

Then, they burst out laughing.

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

The next morning, Nesta was brewing her third cup of coffee when Elain padded into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Elain yawned as a greeting. She wore bunny slippers and an oversized hoodie. Elain only had one evening class on Tuesdays, so today was her only day - save for the weekend - to sleep in.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“How long have you been up?”

Nesta glanced at the clock. It was nine-thirty. She’d woken up at six after a sleepless night of tossing and turning.

But she simply shrugged instead. “Not long.”

Nesta poured the coffee into her mug, sitting back down at the counter. She watched as Elain bustled around the kitchen, scrambling eggs and slicing fruit. The morning light spilled through the dusty kitchen sink window, bars of sunshine reflecting off the tiled floors. Iroh basked in the sunspots, his black fur glistening as his chartreuse eyes blinked closed.

Elain and Nesta hadn’t spent much time together in the past couple weeks. It was Nesta’s doing, of course. She was actively avoiding her sister and everyone else. After Elain had tried to talk to Nesta after the whole thing with Tomas, she stopped asking Nesta if she was okay. Nesta assumed that Elain realized she wasn’t going to get an answer, that there wasn't really a point in trying.

But Gods, Nesta fucking missed her. And even though she wanted nothing more than to retreat to her bedroom as she sat there in the kitchen, she didn’t move from the chair.

You need them as much as they need you, her father’s voice echoed in her head.

Guilt stabbed at her chest.

“How’re classes going?” Nesta asked quietly. Elain looked at her over her shoulder with a surprised yet pleasant smile.

“Great! I’m so grateful to be at such a great college, but…” Elain bit her lip, hesitating. “My bio lab is going to be the death of me."

“You know you’re allowed to complain, right?”

Elain just gave her a smile. “Yeah, I know. It's just, considering where I was a year ago, I couldn't be happier to finally be enrolled in such a prestigious program. Even if that means the classes are brutal."

I wish I was like you. I take everything for granted.

“And have you made any friends?”

Elain had started school at Pryth U months ago and yet Nesta had no idea if she even had friends yet.

Selfish bitch.

A fond smile broke out on Elain’s face. “Yes, I have this really great group of friends: Lucien, Ressina, and Varian. It's just the four of us, but we've gotten really close.”

Nesta asked Elain more questions before excusing herself back to her room, claiming she was going to try to write today, to which Elain squealed and wished her luck.

Nesta hadn't written since their dad died. Prior to his death, she would write nearly every day. She'd been working on a novel for years. The plot had came to her in middle school, and it just grew from there. She'd never told anyone about it. Everyone knows how fucking hard it is to get your writing published, much less get high ratings. Nesta wasn't even sure if she was going to finish it. This was the longest she'd gone without writing or editing it. And she had a feeling that she wouldn't ever go back to it.

Dread filled her stomach as she thought of that prospect. What the fuck was she doing with her life?

Nesta’s phone buzzed, and she fished it out of her back pocket.

Incoming call from Feyre Archeron.

It kept buzzing, Nesta merely stared at her sister's name on her screen. She couldn't think of a single reason why Feyre would be calling. But she pressed "Accept" before it could go to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

Silence.

“Uh, what’s up?” Nesta asked. She collapsed onto her unmade bed. Iroh scampered past the door and jumped on the bed with her. He didn't waste a minute curling himself around her head.

"I was calling to see… maybe, I don’t know… uh, would you want to come to dinner tonight?”

I was not expecting that. And Nesta was about 95% sure this was Elain’s doing.

“Why?”

“I want you there," Feyre told her as if it were obvious.

“Why?” Nesta asked again. She hadn't seen Feyre since Thanksgiving despite her sister living just on the outskirts of the city.

That had been weeks ago.

“It's complicated," Feyre responded quietly. She seemed to pause before finding the words. "I've been so worried about Cassian, we all have. He'd never been deployed for that long - five months. It was scary. I guess I took that out on you. I don't know why..."

She drifted off. Nesta held her breath.

"I'm sure Elain told you, but he's home now. I've been more myself since he returned, and I want you to come to dinner. I… miss you.”

She rubbed her temple. “I don’t know, Feyre.”

I don't know if I can pretend to be okay for an entire night. I don't know if you even fucking want me there or if you just feel obligated. I don't know if I can be in the same room as your douchebag boyfriend. I don't know if I can be surrounded by your friends, most of whom seem to dislike me. I don't know if I can behave like a normal fucking person.

I don't know.

“Please?” The plea was soft, quiet. It was like she was almost desperate. But for what?

Nesta looked out the window where a blue jay - their dad's favorite bird - was perched on a bare tree branch. The leaves had long ago fallen, leaving the world naked and vulnerable. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

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

Feyre embraced her with an awkward hug when Nesta and Elain walked into the house. Nesta patted her on the back lightly, uncomfortable with the physical touch. Luckily, no one else seemed incline to embrace her. Rhys actually seemed to make sure he was as far away as possible.

Elain, on the other hand, gave everyone a hug. Mor gave a laugh as she squeezed Elain back, Aurra watching them with a smile. Interestingly enough, when Elain greeted Azriel with a hug, his tanned cheeks glowed red. It was almost imperceptible, but Nesta noticed.

Feyre took a step back to assess her. Nesta could see the judgement in her sister's eyes as she took in Nesta's noticeably thinner body. Luckily, however, she wasn't given the chance to comment on it when Elain piped up, "Where's Cassian? Nesta still hasn't met him yet."

"He's running a bit late," Rhys answered, glancing down at his phone. "Should be here in about ten minutes."

Everyone began to make their way into the dining room and Nesta followed. However, she was quickly tugged to the side when Amren swooped in out of nowhere and basically dragged Nesta into the privacy of the hallway. She stopped, crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at Nesta.

“Where have you been?” Amren demanded.

"What do you mean?" Nesta asked, playing dumb.

She hadn't spoken to Amren in a long time, even though they had each others' numbers. Even though Amren had repeatedly texted her, asking to get coffee or go for a walk or something else of the sorts. All of which went unanswered.

Amren rolled her eyes, and Nesta was convinced they went to the back of her head for a good minute. "Don't play dumb with me, Nesta."

“I don’t know, working?"

"Is that a question?" Amren rose a deadly brow.

Nesta huffed and mirrored Amren's angry stance. "Why are you interrogating me?"

“Because you've been radio silent for weeks. I had to ask Elain if you were still fucking alive," Amren explained. Then, she leaned in close like she didn't want anyone to hear. "I was worried about you, you bitch."

Nesta let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, okay? I've been busy. I do want to hang out, it's just that..." she trailed off.

"What? It's just that what?"

Nesta stared at the floor, unable to form words.

"Nesta, are you okay?" Amren asked, her voice softer.

Just tell her. Fucking tell her.

I was almost raped.

Just the thought was enough to make Nesta want to puke. She couldn't, it was too much and she wouldn't even be able to fucking say it and it's her fault, all her fault.

She breathed in through her nose and looked back up at Amren. She shot her the most fake smile she'd ever given. "I'm good. Seriously, I just got busy. It won't happen again."

Nesta saw the skepticism in Amren's eyes. But she conceded with a small sigh. "Well, don't do it again, okay? I seriously thought you were fucking murdered or some shit."

Nesta just nodded. Amren looked at her once more before gesturing with her chin back to the dining room. Nesta followed her.

When they rounded the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Because sitting next to Feyre was the man who had tried to break into her apartment.

“Nesta!" Feyre exclaimed, calling her over from where she sat. "This is Cassian. Cassian, this is my sister, Nesta.”

Nesta simply stared at him like a deer in headlights and he stared at her, his lips parted in surprise. He was wearing a grey sweater, his long hair hanging down, no longer in a bun like it was the last time. He tucked it behind one ear.

"Are you stalking me or something?" Nesta said incredulously.

"I could ask you the same," Cassian retorted cheekily.

Feyre looked between them, a confused expression written on her face. "Do you guys know each other or something?"

"Something like that," Nesta mumbled.

Everyone's eyes were on them as they waited for an answer.

"Well as everyone knows, I live in the same building as Nesta and Elain," Cassian explained, waving a hand to the two sisters. "The other night, I got stupid drunk with a friend. He drove me back to my place and me, drunk off my fucking ass, tried to get into their apartment thinking it was mine."

The entire room erupted into laughter, Rhys choking on his food and Azriel looking up as if reasoning with the Gods.

"So when Nesta opened the door," Cassian continued, "she nearly beat me to death with a baseball bat."

Another round of laughter.

"Overreact much?"

Everyone's eyes flew to where Nesta sat. They seemed shocked. Nesta was too.

She didn't know why she said it, why she let it bother her. He was just so fucking frustrating, even his mere presence.

Cassian stuck his tongue out at her.

Feyre interrupted, her jaw agape. "You guys are acting like children."

Nesta got quiet after that. The conversation continued, thankfully taking the attention off her. As everyone laughed and conversed, Cassian looked over at her. His smile disappeared when he met Nesta's gaze. She just stared back at him, lips in a thin line. He seemed to try to gauge her reaction carefully, but her face was blank.

And so the night went on. Nesta didn't say another word after what happened. She avoided eye contact with Cassian. Avoided conversation with everyone.

It was half past eight when they all began clearing their dishes. Mor, Aurra, Azriel, and Cassian were all gathered in the kitchen cleaning up. Feyre and Rhys had excused themselves. It was just Nesta and Elain who remained in the dining room.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Nesta leaned over to whisper to Elain.

Elain nodded. "We'll head out right after, yeah?" She must've noticed the exhaustion in Nesta's face.

Nesta agreed, excusing herself from the table.

She walked down the hallway, peeking through every door to find the bathroom. She was about to push through a door on the left that was slightly cracked open when she heard voices coming from within.

“I’m worried about him. He’s not the same.” It was Feyre.

“He never is when he comes home, Feyre," Rhys said dejectedly. "It’s happened before. Cass just needs time.”

Cass.

Nesta tiptoed closer to the door, just enough for her to listen.

“No, what he needs is to see someone!”

“I’ve tried. He doesn’t want to go.”

“Try harder, Rhys!” Feyre cried, her tone frustrated.

“We can’t just force him to go, okay?”

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing? Do you even notice how lost your own fucking brother is? Do you even care?!”

Silence.

“Rhysand, I’m sorry. Gods, I’m so sorry. I know you care. More than anyone. I just… I don’t want to lose him.”

She heard them both breathing deeply.

“C’mere,” Rhys murmured. Nesta heard Feyre's footsteps as she presumably walked toward him.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Together.”

“Always, Feyre darling.”

They got quiet, probably embracing each other. Nesta crept away from their bedroom door and into the bathroom before they could find her.

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

Elain and Nesta had just unlocked their apartment door when Nesta groaned. “Oh, shit, I forgot my wallet in the car." She fished around in her bag to make sure it wasn't in there. "I’ll be right back.”

"I'll leave the door unlocked," Elain called behind her as Nesta made her way to the elevator.

She stepped between the doors, hitting the button for the parking garage. Gods, she just wanted to go to sleep. The night had been exhausting.

After a minute or so, she was approaching her car. She unlocked her door and grabbed her wallet that was in the middle console when a pair of headlights flashed past her, a car pulling into the spot next to her.

Before panic could set in, Nesta recognized who was driver the car through the window.

Cassian.

His car turned off and he emerged from the driver's door just a moment later. He looked over where Nesta was clutching her wallet to her chest staring at him. He gave her a tight-lipped smile before turning away and walking towards the elevator. Nesta had no choice to follow.

She walked just a few feet behind him as they made their way to the elevator.

"I'm sorry," Cassian told her, his voice sincere. He cast a concerned glance her way. "For embarrassing you at dinner. And if I scared you that night."

"You didn't embarrass me," Nesta snapped at him. "You were just being annoying as hell."

His entire body seemed to relax at her insult. Cassian tried to hide his smirk but failed. "I'm glad to see you're still your normal, hotheaded self. You got me worried at dinner with your stoic behavior."

Now she really glared at him. "Don't talk like you know me. You don't."

"Oh, sweetheart," he teased. "I think we're more similar than you think."

She scoffed. "I think that hubris of yours will be your downfall."

"You know, it's quite sexy when you use literary devices to insult me," he joked.

Nesta froze.

Was he coming onto her? Chills ran down her spine when she thought of the last time a man expressed interest in her.

It's not the same, she tried to convince yourself. He's not Tomas.

Cassian must've expected a heated response to his comment because he looked surprised when Nesta simply stared straight ahead. She seemed to be in a world of her own, oblivious to everything around her. Any trace of anger was gone, replaced by a cool indifference.

Cassian's face fell. "Nesta, I didn't mean to - "

He was cut off as the elevator door dinged opened and Nesta swiftly walked out.

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

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oswildin · 5 years

Text

My Doctor ~ Dhawan!Doctor x Reader {featuring Whittaker!Master}

~ Yes again I should be doing requests but I’ve seen people doing the whole character swap thing between 13 and the master and damn I didn’t know I wanted it. So here is a little fic about it. Let me know if you want a part 2 👀 Drew inspo characteristics from 11/13. Also inspired by @lilaccoats fic - go give it a read! ~

Summary: You’ve fallen through the void into another universe. You don’t know how you got there or why... And everything is just... wrong.

Warnings: Angst, some fluff

Part 2 - https://oswildin.tumblr.com/post/612203741821714432/my-doctor-part-2-dhawandoctor-x-reader

You couldn’t remember much. Your head felt heavy, foggy. You hissed as you felt your body ache with pain. Slowly, you began to sit up, feeling a wave of nausea flew through your chest. You coughed as you tried to fight the feeling. You looked around, realising you were in some sort of med bay. No. The TARDIS med bay. What happened? You clutched your head, searching for any sign of a gash, or bump, but found nothing.

“Ah! You’re awake!”

You felt your body freeze with fear as you heard the familiar voice. You slowly drifted your gaze towards the voice as you saw the person you dreaded to see. He could see the shock and fear on your features as he furrowed his brows in worry.

“Whoa, you look like you’ve seen a ghost...” He commented, walking towards you to see if you were ok. You stayed still, looking confused at the Timelord. Why was he in the Doctor’s TARDIS? Where was she?

“Where’s the Doctor?” You asked, voice strong as you pushed yourself off the med bed. He gave you another confused look. “Why are you on her TARDIS? What did you do to me?” You asked frantically, as you steadied yourself. The Master continued to look concerned and confused as you asked questions.

“How do you know the Doctor?” He raised a brow, as you looked back at him in confusion. What did he mean? Wait... Could it be before you met the Master? Did he not know you yet?

“You don’t know me yet, do you?” You raised a brow.

“Erm...” He seemed to search his mind for an answer until he came to nothing. “Nope, don’t believe I do.” He rested a hand on his hip. “So, what’s your name? Or will it mess up timelines....” He paused. “No don’t tell me. Can’t risk rewriting time!” He exclaimed, putting his finger on your lips as you frowned, pushing his hand away.

“Don’t touch me, Martian!” You cried, narrowing your eyes warningly. He seemed shocked by your outburst.

“So... You know future me?” He almost smirked. “You remind me of someone I used to know.” He smiled, thinking of how Donna used to call him Martian. You shook your head, trying to figure out why he was acting so different to how you knew him.

“This doesn’t make any sense! Why are you being... Like this?” You gestured to him up and down.

“I’ll try not to take offence.” He pursed his lips, dusting down his waistcoat as you groaned in frustration. “Am I not always like this?” He raised a brow.

“No! You’re mean! Annoying! Scheming!” You exclaimed, trying to understand what was happening. He seemed taken back by your words.

“That... doesn’t sound like me. I know I can be grumpy, bossy and maybe a bit irritating at times, but scheming? I would prefer the term crafty.” He ranted, as you recognised a similar look in his eyes as he spoke... There wasn’t any anger, or fire. They were welcoming, soft and wise. They felt... familiar.

“You have no clue what I’m talking about do you?” You softened your tone as he looked lost.

“No. Apparently it’s a very common occurrence I have during human interaction.” He said casually. “I think you call it social awkwardness.”

“You sound like the Doctor...” You mumbled, expecting him to explode with anger, disgust, but it never came.

“I’d hope so.” He laughed lightly. “Considering I am the Doctor.” He looked amused as you felt confusion take you over.

“No you’re not.” You argued, folding your arms. “You’re the Master.” His eyes widened in shock.

“Did you hit your head?” He questioned, stepping forwards once more to check you over. He pulled out a sonic screwdriver as he scanned you over. You hit his hand away. “Ow!” He exclaimed, frowning like a kicked puppy.

“Stop pointing that thing at me!” You cried, as the sonic made a beep sound, alerting him to something. He lifted it cautiously, eyeing you, as he looked at the readings.

“But that cant be...” He muttered, furrowing his brows. “This... this says you’re from a different universe.” He looked you in the eye as you narrowed your own.

“Why should I believe you?” You spat, defensively. “How do I know this isn’t apart of a mega evil plan you’ve come up with?” You retorted as he sighed.

“Ask me anything. Anything the Doctor could answer.” He told you, placing his hands behind his back after putting the sonic away. You thought for a moment, before thinking of a few questions.

“What do you think of humans?” You began as you searched his eyes for any hidden emotion.

“I think...” You saw his lights light up, as a small smile appeared on his lips. “I think you are wonderful. Flawed, yes, but overall... You’re so huge and strong. You don’t give up. You are so much bigger than you know in the universe.” You hummed at his response, feeling his sincerity.

“Okay. Bow ties?” You raised a brow, waiting for him to finish the sentence.

“Are cool.” He grinned. “I still stand by that.” You placed your finger on your chin as you thought of one last question.

“What do you always do to a book?”

“Rip the last page out.” He told you, a sad smile on his face. “Never liked endings.”

You looked at him, searching his eyes as you took a step closer to him. You noticed the differences in his appearance finally; instead of a beard, he was more clean shaven, just stubble, his shirt was no longer a deep blue, but a lilac, as his jacket looked similar to his eleventh incarnations. You peered down, as his socks were still visible, the purple showing blatantly as you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself.

“Ugh, you really are you aren’t you?” You looked up at him in wonder. “How is that possible? Where’s.... Where’s your thirteenth self gone?” You inquired as he furrowed his brows.

“I am thirteen.” He told you. “Well.. technically fourteen, but we don’t talk about that.” He rambled.

“So you don’t know me yet? How did I get on the TARDIS?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Well, I found you in the console room. You just... appeared.” He explained, shrugging. “I always like a mystery. So... You know a different version of me?”

“I guess... You’re a woman for starters. Blonde. Quirky. Trousers that don’t reach your ankles.” You smiled fondly at the memory of your Doctor. His face seemed to shift as you saw his sudden uncomfortable stance. You raised a brow, before coming to the realisation. “Oh God... She’s the Master... isn’t she?” You exclaimed, gasping as he sent you a sympathetic glance. “So what? Am I in a alternate world or something? Where you’re the Doctor and she’s the Master?!”

“Most likely a parallel universe...” He explained. “There are many different versions of us all out there... There’s probably a you here too... Just maybe a bit different.” You felt anxiety rising within.

“How do I get back?” You asked, glassy eyes, fearing the worst. He sighed, sending you a sad look.

“I’m sorry. You can’t.” He told you gently. “It would cause a tear in time. Trust me. I know.” You felt your world crashing around you. You’d most likely never see your Doctor again. And even if you saw her face, it wasn’t hers in this world. The Doctor reached out, placing a hand on your arm, bringing you out of your daze. “So... what is your name?”

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).” You introduced as he gave you a soft smile.

“Great name.” He complimented as you tried to see him as the Doctor. He had the mannerisms... He was similar to the Eleventh... But different... But he wasn’t your Doctor. You didn’t even know if he was the same as the Doctor.

You ducked into the TARDIS through its wooden doors as you yelped in surprise. The Doctor followed behind as he flailed his arms around, closing the door behind you both as you continued to hear the blasts being shot at you both.

“Really?! Why does every adventure with you end with us running for our lives?!” You exclaimed as he rushed to the console. His TARDIS was different from your Doctors. It looked similar to Twelve’s, but had splashes of purple and blue around, instead of feeling colder, it felt warmer. You followed him to the console as a large bang made you flinch away from the doors.

“Would you have it any other way?!” He teased, grinning as you rolled your eyes. “How I was supposed to know he was the King?!”

“Doctor, you told him he was an idiot!” You cried, exasperated. “He was wearing a bloody crown!” You shook your head, before realising he was staring at you intently. You furrowed your brows, folding your arms. “What?” You questioned as his lips twitched slightly.

“You... You just called me Doctor.” He said gleefully as you realised you had in fact called him Doctor.

“Yeah well...” You cleared your throat, shifting your gaze around the room. “Suppose I should probably start believing you. And admit that I’m stuck here. And that you are the Doctor.” You mumbled, before you felt arms wrap around your waist, lifting you up, twirling you around as you looked behind him in shock at his reaction. Finally, he placed you down on the floor, as he beamed down at you.

“Don’t get used to it.” You pointed at him. “It’s still gonna take time.” You admitted, playing with the sleeves of your shirt as he gave you one last tight smile.

“I’ll take what I’m given.”

“Doctor!”

You cried, panic rising as you looked around the darkened room. Alone. You were all alone. You didn’t know where you were, or what was happening. You feared you would be thrown into another universe once again. You’d just begun to settle and face reality. You couldn’t handle it again.

“Doctor! Doctor!” You heard someone mimic before a dark laugh filled the room. “Oh, my dear (Y/N)....” You froze, recognising the voice. Tears filled your eyes as you shook your head. “Shouting for her wonderful Doctor.”

Finally, you could see where the voice was coming from, as a figure stepped out from the shadows. You felt your heart skip a beat as you saw the one face you’d hoped to see again for months...

“We meet at last.” She spoke, raising a brow. You saw the Doctor. Or not the Doctor, rather the Master in this universe. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes had dark circles under them, whilst her lips sported a red lipstick. Her outfit was reminiscent of your Doctors. Her shin length trousers were instead a dark red, and her rainbow top black, as her long jacket was also a deep red. She looked menacing.

“No.” You whispered, backing up slightly. “You can’t be...” You shook your head.

“Oh I am...” She grinned, but you didn’t feel warm from the smile, you felt scared. “I know all about you... From a different universe... My face... The Doctors.” She hissed, growling almost as she wore a disgusted face. “What an awful world you must have lived in.”

“Shut up!” You cried, overwhelmed.

“Ugh. Sentiments.” She rolled her eyes, hand on hip. “You humans love your emotions don’t you?”

“Better than to be cold and calculated.” You snapped back.

“Oh, careful, what would the Doctor think of you complimenting me?” She purred as you flared your nostrils in anger. “Naughty.” She teased as you bit your lip. “I can see it in your eyes... Your love for the Doctor. Well... Your Doctor.” She pressed as you let a tear fall, looking away from her gaze. “I can hear the thoughts racing through your mind...” She stepped towards you, but you refused to react. “I can smell the fear... The sadness...” she laughed, almost manically. “Pathetic, really.”

“I know you. Just because you have a different face, I still know you.” You argued, glaring at her as she raised a brow.

“But it’s not just any different face, is it?” She retorted. “It’s your Doctor’s face. God was she lucky.” She winked, resting her hands on her hips.

“I’m not scared of you.” You ignored her, trying to stand strong.

“Oh really?” She questioned, shock in her voice. “Well... we need to fix that then, don’t we?” She said, before pulling out a tissue compression device, aiming it at you. You flinched slightly, but stood strong. “Say you fear me.” She ordered. You tightened your jaw as you bit your tongue, refusing to give into her game. “Say. You. Fear. Me.” She hissed, finger on the trigger as you rolled your eyes. She pressed the trigger, moving the direction of the beam beside you, inches away as it shot out. Your breath hitched. “Say you fear me!” She roared, voice bouncing off the walls.

“Oh a party!”

You sighed in relief at a similar voice.

“Can anyone join the party?”

The Doctor stepped out from the shadows as you watched the Master roll her eyes, seemingly frustrated with his intrusion. She sighed, twirling round to face her enemy.

“Of course!” She beamed. “More to kill the merrier...” She smirked.

“How did you escape?” The Doctor asked, sighing. He looked almost tired. “Every time...”

“I have a knack of getting out of tight situations.” She shrugged. “But I also have a talent for getting myself into them to.”

“Either way. You know I’m going to stop you.” The Doctor glared at the woman. “I promise. Cross my hearts.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Doctor.” She poured for a second, waving the device around in her hand, before it landed back towards your direction. The Doctor tensed, glancing at your face as he saw the fear in your eyes. “I’ll do it.” She warned. “You know I wouldn’t even hesitate.” The Doctor stayed silent. “Imagine the possibilities... If I could work out how to travel to the other universes!” She cheered. “Imagine the destruction! Across worlds...” She laughed. “Multiple versions of me... I would be unstoppable.”

“Also multiple versions of me.” The Doctor argued. “And how many times have I stopped you.” He stated as her jaw tightened, grip on the device tighter.

“Barely.” She raised her brows. “By the skin of your teeth...” She smirked. “It could be a masterful world, Doctor.” She laughed, her body moving with her voice. “Or should I say worlds...”

“Not this time.” He almost growled, pulling a device from his pocket, throwing it in her direction. She looked down at the ball shaped device as she glared at the fellow Timelord. She hissed as she fired the tissue compressor, as you narrowly missed the shot, throwing yourself to the floor. As you looked back up, you saw the ball open, exploding around her in a bright light as she disappeared. You felt your breath rise and fall quickly as you looked up at the Doctor.

“What happened?” You asked, slowly getting up from the floor. “Where did she go?”

“Back in time. Far enough for me to come up with a plan at least.” He explained, walking towards you as his eyes roamed your body for any damage.

“I’m fine.” You waved him off, feeling saddened by it all.

“You’re crying.” He told her, furrowing his brows.

“I’m fine.” You insisted.

You sat in the console room, twiddling your thumbs as the Doctor kept eyeing you, ensuring you were ok. He knew you weren’t. You’d just seen the Master... with your Doctors face. He licked his lips before slowly approaching you, almost cautious.

“It’s ok you know?” He began, getting your attention. “To be sad...” He said softly, sitting beside you on the steps.

“I’m...” You sighed, glancing down at your hands. “I loved her.” You blurted out, as the Doctor listened carefully. “My Doctor... I’d known her for years... Met her by accident... As always.” You sniffled, laughing lightly. “Saw her regenerate. Multiple times.” You explained. “Fought Daleks... Cybermen... The Master...” You glanced over at him as he almost shrunk under your gaze. “And it’s like I’ve started all over again.” You whispered.

“Stories don’t always have to end.” He told you gently. “Picture it as... An extended chapter... The Sequel even.” He gave a small smile. He offered his hand as you glanced at it, before eventually taking it softly. “I know I’m not her.” He paused. “But, I am the Doctor. I’m the same person. Just a bit different.” He said as you gave him a small smile in return.

You watched the Doctor with a smile on your face as he rambled about something or other. You didn’t have a clue what he was on about, but the excitement in his eyes when he spoke of it was enough to keep you interested. It had been a year since you fell into the other universe... A year since you met this Doctor. You had to admit, he was the same. He was the same man, woman, you once knew. Had always known. The Doctor furrowed his brows, turning to you as he saw your stare.

“What?” He asked. “Have I got something on my head again?” He reached up, patting his hair in confusion. You shook your head, laughing lightly as you walked towards him.

“You really are the Doctor aren’t you?” You smiled. “You are... The same Doctor.”

“But different.” He said as he gave you a small smile, moving his hand away from his head, shifting under your stare.

“My Doctor.” You said quietly. His eyes fell back onto your own at your words, his mouth slightly parted as he looked at you, shock evident in his eyes.

“Did you just-“ He pointed at you as you rolled your eyes, cutting him short, jumping on him as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, giving him a hug. You’d never really shown affection towards him. It was about time for it.

“Thank you.” You said into his ear as he held you close.

“For what?” He questioned.

“For putting up with me.” You laughed lightly. “I’ve not been the nicest to you... I’ve been waiting to prove you wrong, that you weren’t the Doctor... But you are... All along, you have been. My Doctor.” You smiled into his shoulder as you felt him rub your back comfortingly.

“Hey, it’s ok.” He told you softly. “You reacted normally. Hell, even I would’ve been cautious.” He told you, pulling away as he held you at arms length.

“Oh shut up and just take the compliment.” You teased as he let out a breath of air, seeing the playfulness in your eyes.

“So!” He exclaimed, twirling around, his jacket almost hitting you in the process as the ran around the console. “Where to next?!”

“Everywhere.”

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imaginesmai · 5 years

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Tom Holland - Back Home (1/2)

There will be a second part, don’t worry! Hope you enjoy it. Let me know if you want to be tagged

Plot: Five months ago, you broke up. Five months ago, you walked out of Tom’s house because it was all too much. Five months ago, Tom left his home without you. And now he’s back, realizing you shouldn’t have never broke up.

The city was busy. It was Saturday night, so that was a given, and he was trying really, really hard to get into the spirit of the night out. It was Harrison’s birthday and he was finally home, with Tessa lighting up the house and his brothers supporting him as always. It should have been a great time, because after a five months break from them, he had missed them enough to cry.

But as he sat in the pub, beer in hand, the problem was that the last time he had been home you were sitting in the stool next to him. He had had his arm wrapped around your shoulder, had pulled you closer and kissed your cheek, that later had grown into a full make out session in the bathroom. If he looked to the right, he could see the pool table where you had taught him to play, and the darts where you had first met, when he had almost killed you by accident.

The good memories mixed with the bad ones, and he was no longer in the pub, but in his house. Small bags of the belongings you had been accumulating there, tears running down your cheeks and countless of arguments that preceded your decision.

Tom had very little to say, in reality. He couldn’t argue with your reasons; he was away a lot and that wasn’t going to change any time soon. While he came back as much as he could, his life wasn’t a steady one, and the tension, the distance and the jealousy overpowered both of you.

He had cried, begged and screamed. A week passed locked in his room, ignoring his family and friends; and then, he had to leave, to go back to the busy life he had achieved in between films. And now, he was back, and the feelings and memories he had fought so hard with occupying every second of his day were back. He wasn’t ready to face them, it seemed.

“Dude” the sympathetic voice of his friend to his left brought him back to the present. “Get out of your head. We’re here to have a good time, remember? Come on, it’s on me today. Finish that already and have something else, maybe check the potentials around?”

Both males knew that was out of option. It wasn’t as if there weren’t pretty girls around; Tom had seen thousands of them. But they weren’t as funny, as witty, as kind or as humble as you, or didn’t have the same eyes, smile, laugh or hands. They weren’t you, and Tom couldn’t think about anyone else.

“Yeah, I’ll try” Tom made a grimace that intended to be a smile, and Harrison responded with a pity smile.

The blonde raised his bottle towards Tom and Tom lifted his own to clink the glass in cheers as his friend turned to face out from the bar and scan the room. He felt the supporting hand of Harry on his shoulder, and he knew that the whole group was looking at him. There was no denying that he wasn’t the same man.

But how could I be, after meeting a woman like her?

For nearly thirty minutes, he was able to fake so. He cracked a few jokes, told his friends how the new experience had been, and actually listened to some of what he had to say. But then, Sam went to stand up and go to the bathroom when he stopped abruptly and paled.

“Shit” he swore under his breath on instinct and everyone in the table turned to look towards that place.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake” Jacob said; and still, Tom could only frown confused. He couldn’t see a thing. “What were the odds?”

“Of all the fucking pubs…” Harrison agreed, and Tom was becoming impatient.

“She lives here, after all” Harry added.

And then Tom saw you. Your hair was longer than what he remembered, falling free over your shoulder as you played with the end of a strand. From where he was, he could see the ripped jeans and the soft-pink blouse you were wearing, and the familiar handbag resting on the tool on your side. You were smiling, cradling the drink in your hand and looking happy, beautiful and like home.

Tom felt his stomach turn and be filled with nausea, his throat closing around the lump that he had kept hidden for five months. In the background, he could hear the boys talking between themselves and trying to get his attention, but he didn’t mind them. He was too busy looking at the other guy.

There was a man, sitting in front of you. He seemed older than him, broad and tanned, and with the begging of a tamed beard showing. His eyes were fixed in you and his hand was stretching over the desk in a, in his opinion, pathetic attempt to grab yours. It was obviously a date, and suddenly his vision was blurry; not so blurry to not see the way you were smiling at him.

“Tom” Harry shook his shoulder so hard that he almost fell over. “Tom, come on. Finish up, we’ll grab our things and get out of here. There are –“

“No, no” He surprised himself shaking his head repeatedly, a huge contrast to his glassy eyes. “We can – we can stay. It was bound to happen, eventually. I mean, we live in the same place”

“But it doesn’t have to be today”

“She hasn’t noticed me yet, mate” Tom looked at Jacob, and attempted to be reassuring. “Really, it’s okay. It’s not like we’re in the same group, we don’t have to talk”

“You sure?” Sam asked, and Tom nodded.

“Who’s she with, by the way?” Harry asked, and earned himself two kicks and one side-elbow. “Oh, okay! Okay, I’m sorry!”

The boys turned back to the business, and Harrison flagged down a bartender for a round of tequila. He wanted to do the same, to lessen the chance of you spotting him from across the room, but he got stuck watching. Watching how the love of his life let the man finally touch your hand, and actually linked your fingers together. Before he could see anything else that made his heart shatter to no repair, he looked away and smiled to his friends.

There had been three more rounds of tequila shots and Harrison was apparently having an awesome time. He was laughing, shouting and enjoying his birthday; and in the end, Tom had decided to step a little to side to allow him to do so. Because even if he was there with them, his head was far away and his heart a few meters back.

Every now and then, Tom looked back, to where you were focused on your date. Thankfully, you hadn’t made any more contact than the hand-grabbing, He stole what he thought were cautious glances at you, and looked away when he heard you laughing or smiling. Eventually, Harrison caught on his game and scooted closer to talk to his friend. He clasped a hand on his shoulder and sighed.

“Why don’t you just go and talk to her?” he suggested.

“She’s with a date” Tom sounded horrified, imagining the humiliation. “I can’t go over there!”

“If you keep doing that, then she will come over. With her date, both pissed and probably someone will call the police on a stalker” Harrison tried to joke. “Just be casual, say hi and show Y/N that you’re over it”

“You know I’m not over it” Tom quoted him in the air. “If I so much as hear her voice once more I’m gonna drown this place in tears”

“You’ve been watching her all night, it’d be weird to not even acknowledge that you’ve seen – look, there is your chance, he’s gone”

Tom looked back to where, as Harrison had said, you were alone sitting in the stool. Flicking at your phone screen, you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings, waiting for your date to come back. Straining his neck, Tom could see said man walking through the crowd to where the bathrooms were; and he had been in that pub enough times to know it would take a while.

The idea of facing you after five long months wasn’t appealing at all, but he didn’t want to boil things further. He needed to talk to you, to tell you he was a douchebag for letting you go and that he was so sorry of ever doing so.

Harrison nudged his shoulder softly again, and Tom bit his lip. In the worst scenario, he could just burst into sobs and make a fool of himself. Or your date could go back and see him make a food of himself. When he thought about it, the whole place could just watch him make a fool of himself. But you weren’t a random girl, and something in Harrison’s encouraging words made him get up and start winding his way through the crowd towards where you were sitting.

“Where is he going?” Harry asked, loud enough so that he could still hear him.

“I swear, one more fuck-up remark and I’m kicking you out” Sam whispered. “You better let him handle this”

“I didn’t say anything!”

Tom kept hoping you’d look up and see him before he reached your table, so that he wouldn’t have to speak to get your attention. Your gaze was steadfastly fixed to your phone, and Tom idly wondered if you had been doing that all along. Too busy looking the smiles you had shared with your date, he didn’t notice if you were truly happy or just faking it, as you did with so many social interactions you didn’t like.

Another reason to kick himself, and to prove that maybe you were better that way; maybe, he was a social interaction you didn’t like anymore. Dread filled his stomach and he stopped so abruptly that the girl who was walking behind him collided with his back.

“What the fuck, man?!” a high pitched voice squealed, and Tom looked back to see a girl half of his size. “You can’t stop like that!”

“Sorry, I didn’t …” he cut himself before saying that he hadn’t seen her, and swallowed the lump. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to”

“Yeah, sorry doesn’t cut it. Do you know how hard it is to find someone to buy me a drink? Most men don’t even see me!” she stumped her foot on the ground, and Tom walked backwards a little. “You almost made me spill it! Watch where you’re going”

“Will do” Tom muttered, and watched as she walked away angrily.

Blinked confused, he was more sure than ever that talking to you was the worst idea he had had. It had been five months, you had clearly moved on and he was going to make a fool of himself, definitely. He hid his hands on his pockets and turned around once more, just wanting to make sure you were still there.

Instead, he found you looking at him in surprise, your phone forgotten on the desk and your mouth hanging open.

“Hi”

Your voice sounded exactly the same as the last time; more confused, and a bit less wet, because there weren’t tears running down your cheeks. Tom didn’t know what he expected to hear, but it made him relived. In a way, you were the same girl he had let walk away five months ago. The surprise had been replaced by an emotion Tom couldn’t understand, so uncomfortable, he shifted the weight between his feet.

He looked back to the bathrooms, just to be sure he didn’t have your date standing behind him, ready to kick him out of the place. In his line of sight stood Harrison, with a small encouraging smile while the rest of the boys tried to pretend they were busy. But he could see Sam and Harry talking in hushed whispers and Jacob sipping on an already finished drink.

“I didn’t know you were back” you talked again, and Tom kicked himself for not saying anything. He was the one who had approached you, and yet couldn’t make any sounds without spilling the tears. “What are – um, a-are you okay?”

“Yes” Tom croaked out, and you jumped a little with the sudden outburst. He coughed awkwardly and tried to fix his line of thought. “Care if I sit for a second?”

“I don’t –“

“It will be a moment” Tom hurried, and walked to the free stool. “I promise, Y/N. I know – I know you’re with someone. Just a second”

Tom didn’t miss how you picked up your handbag from the table and put it on your lap, and his heart clenched. Because that was something you used to do when you were uncomfortable, a way of creating a safety barrier between the feeling and you. He tried to ignore the action and occupied the place your date had before going to the bathroom.

However, once he was sitting there, inches away from you, he couldn’t say anything more than open his mouth and let a pathetic whine. He raised his hand to run it through his short hair, and watched as your eyes went wide when you noticed the lack of his curls.

“What did you do?” you asked, and for a moment, the smile he loved so much was back. “God, I hope that’s not because of a stupid dare”

“No, no. It’s – no, it’s for a new film” Tom chuckled and used the few seconds you stared at his new haircut to admire you from up close. “I wasn’t too sure about it, but I really like it now. Shorter is easier, you know”

“I bet. Less knots. Your mom must be loving it. No more hairs in the shower” you gave him the full smile, and he almost melted in the stool.

Hearing you talk about his mom so easily made him want to cry, and scream. You had been a huge part of the family when you were together, and everyone loved you as much as him. Board-game nights, Christmas together, lazy Sundays with Tessa; you spent every day on his mom’s house, before you moved in together.

And every day, at night, you two would cuddle together, him laying his head on your chest as you worked through his knots. He scrolled through his phone while to massaged his skull, sometimes talking and sometimes in silence; either way, he was glad he had been forced to cut it short, because he couldn’t imagine doing something as simple as brushing his hair without you.

Tom swallowed the tears and did his best to seem happy.

“I haven’t been around since… I left” Tom answered, not wanting to say the words ‘break up’. “But she’s sure glad. I heard she’s trying to do the same to the other’s three”

“Good luck with that” you said, and shifted in your seat so that you were no longer in a tense stance but more relaxed. “Maybe you can put on a jumble sale with Harry’s nest. There must be enough things there to support a whole family”

“Oh, not even she dares to go around his hair”

You chuckled, and the conversations of the people around you came back. The white noise surrounded you; the band playing on the back, the loud boys cheering for the game on the screen, and the groups playing on the pool’s tables. There was an awkward silence, and Tom understood it was the moment of saying something, or leaving.

“I miss you” he blurted out.

“Tom…”

“And I’m sorry about what happened” Tom continued. “Maybe – and I’m not, I’m not saying you weren’t right – but we could, uh, we didn’t – didn’t have to break up. We could, we could have talked. I just – it was so sudden. I had to leave, and –“

“It wasn’t sudden!” you interrupted him. It was quiet, but the words cut through him. “You weren’t about to change your whole life for me. You’re building your life out there, and I’m here. Things were falling apart for a long time, and you know it”

“But I loved you” Tom whined, and his vision actually got blurry. He leaned forwards into the table. “I still love you, Y/N. And I’m willing – we can change”

“We had been together for eleven months, Tom, and it didn’t change” you sighed, the handbag back on your lap. “I can count on one hand the days we have spent together in the last months of our relationship.”

“I was –“

“Yeah, busy with filming, I know” you cut him off, and Tom got the impression he had opened a fresh wound. “But that isn’t the problem. You didn’t have to come here, I could have gone there! But – But I’ve been there once, Tom once! You loved me so much that you kept a whole, huge section of your life completely separate from me”

Tom gaped at your words, and actually felt himself getting angrier. He thought he knew the reason of your break up; because you could no longer stand the distance, because you were becoming too dependent on him when he wasn’t with you, because you were no longer yourself. He had understood everything you had said, and tried to support your decision; but that wasn’t what you told him.

“You told me to go and live there!” Tom almost screamed, his eyebrows furrowed. “I asked – I asked you to come with me, because I wanted to start something with you.”

“Yeah, and you asked me to keep myself hidden, always in the apartment and careful with the pictures on my social media” you replayed. “It’s like you’re ashamed of me, Tom, and I couldn’t keep up with that”

“I wanted to protect you” Tom said, the anger draining. There was such a deep hurt on his voice that you flinched. “I wanted – media are vultures, you were still finishing your degree and, if you came with me, they were going to make your life impossible. I just wanted the best for you, Y/N. Because I loved you”

Your bottom lip quivered, and you had to bit your lip to avoid bursting into tears. For five months, you had been locked in your room crying and screaming, thinking what did you do wrong so that Tom didn’t want you with him. The decision had been yours, but the events that preceded were his; and you thought you had done the right thing. But seeing him again, and hearing what he had to say, made you wonder if things would had been different if you had just listened.

Tom wasn’t the type of guy who did that things, you realized then, and you heart fell to the floor. Before you had time to say anything else, he talked once more.

“And you could have talked to me, Y/N. If you had talked to me sooner, I would have moved back here permanently. We could have gone public, I wanted nothing more than to brag of you on social media – but I understand I’m not an easy person to date, and I wanted to make it easy for you” Tom kept going, until he had to stop to take a shaky breath. “I would have done anything for you, Y/N, because I loved – love you more than anything else. I’m sorry if I didn’t –“

“Tom, I –“

“Am I interrupting something?”

Three different persons talked at the same time, and two of them looked to the new person in the table. Your date was back, with arms crossed and lips turned into a grimace; that quickly dissolved when he saw who Tom was.

��No, no. It’s okay, Derek” you talked quickly, and blinked away the tears. “This is Tom, he’s –“

“Leaving” Tom finished for you, and got up to shake Derek’s hand. The other guy’s face was priceless; instead of looking jealous or annoyed, looked ready to burst into rainbows and love. “Sorry, mate. Didn’t mean to interrupt your date.”

“It’s okay. Fine. Perfect” Derek squealed out, and let out a particularly low giggle. “I’m – I’m Derek. Big fan of your work. Everything. So, so nice to meet you. Do you – do you want to stay? We can – god, don’t worry, you can stay. I’m –“

“Sorry, uh, Derek” Tom interrupted the babbling of your date, and with a quick pat on his shoulder started walking away. “See you around, Y/N”

It was you then who had your mouth hang open, watching Tom’s slumped shoulders as he walked away. Derek kept talking about Tom, about how happy he was and asking you questions you didn’t want to answer. But you weren’t paying attention to him, or to anything else for the matter.

You kept looking at how your whole world walked away from you.

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flowerfan2 · 3 years

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Chapter 9 - David and Patrick open up some boxes and have a difficult discussion.

Summary: Being stuck in the Milwaukee airport is bad enough. Then David realizes that the man who broke his heart is sitting right next to him. After a rom-com worthy reunion, David decides he won't walk away again.

Read this chapter here; read from the beginning on A03 here. TW: this chapter contains discussion of depression and past suicidal thoughts.

******

The next morning it’s still raining, and between that and the scrapes on his knees David decides that he’s not going out for a run. He can skip a day when he has to, at least now when his anxiety has relaxed the steel grip it used to have on him.

The gray light peeking through the blinds makes the room feel cozy, and David wiggles a bit under the covers, letting himself enjoy the rare opportunity to sleep in. Of course, it wouldn’t be the same at all without Patrick lying next to him, curled up against David’s side and snoring softly.

David cups his hand around the curve of Patrick’s arm, his fingers tucking under the edge of his t-shirt. Patrick snuffles adorably and strokes his palm down David’s chest. David can tell the moment when Patrick wakes up enough to remember just where he is, and where they are, and his hand stills.

David lays his hand gently over Patrick’s, twining their fingers together and pressing it against his chest. It’s okay, he thinks to himself, and to Patrick. We’re okay.

“Do you remember when we slept on that air mattress?” David asks, the memory coming to him unbidden, something about the act of Patrick waking up a little bit confused prompting it into his brain.

“Hmm, yeah,” Patrick says after a moment, his voice quiet against David’s shoulder. “The first night in my new apartment, before all the furniture came. It squeaked.”

“I woke up every time you turned over,” David says. “And every time, you put your arm back over me and kissed me right through my complaints.”

Patrick blinks his eyes open and gazes at David. “You seemed to like it well enough at the time.”

David hides his smile against Patrick’s arm. “I did.”

Patrick snorts. “Tell me you didn’t do it on purpose.”

David gasps, mockingly affronted. “I would never.”

“Sure.”

“At least, not the first few times.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, David rubbing his thumb along the back of Patrick’s hand as they listen to the rain coming down outside the window. Every once in a while there’s a far off rumble of thunder. David feels like he’s in a little cocoon, safe indoors with Patrick.

“We were really good together, weren’t we?” Patrick asks, unable to keep a twinge of sadness out of his words.

“We were,” David says, shifting so that he can look at Patrick. “And we are.”

Patrick stares at him then, then nods and tucks his face into the crook of David’s neck, his hand grasping tighter at David’s. David marvels at himself, that he didn’t say “we will be” or some other hopeful statement of future possibility. He’s not sure where this confidence has come from, but he clings to it like Alexis to a Prada bag.

It’s not that he thinks it will be easy, merging their lives back together. But he really thinks they can. They already are.

David hadn’t been sure about offering to stay longer here with Patrick. At first he had been waiting for Patrick to ask him; he thought it wouldn’t be right to raise it himself. After all, David was the one that insisted on coming with Patrick, back at the airport when he realized that Patrick was headed to Florida and not to Toronto. He didn’t want to push himself onto Patrick again. He wasn’t certain that his continued presence would be wanted.

But then after a few days together it became clear to David that Patrick was no longer the take-charge guy he used to be, at least not right now. Patrick is hurting, and his self-confidence has taken a beating. He didn’t seem likely to go out on a limb and risk further damage, a concept that David is all too familiar with. So David called in a favor with his assistant, and asked him to send down some of his favorite warm weather clothes, just in case.

He couldn’t be more pleased with how it turned out, Patrick so clearly happy that David isn’t going home yet. And it’s true that David can work remotely, at least for a while. It helps that his boss (ie, his dad) is so invested in the reason David wants to stay in Florida. He’s lucky that Johnny didn’t suggest opening up a satellite office on Patrick’s lanai.

“I’ve never been to therapy,” Patrick says tentatively, pulling David out of his thoughts. “What was it like?”

David almost comments on the non sequitur, then decides it really isn’t one. They need to be able to talk about what each of them have been through these past few years, and if this is Patrick’s way of asking about David, when they’re curled up together under the covers on a rainy morning, he’s not going to question it. It’s not a topic with a natural segue.

“Well, it wasn’t my first rodeo, you know.” He’s about to launch into something humorous, making light of his adolescent struggles, but then he changes course. Patrick is asking seriously, and he deserves a serious answer. He’s fortunate that his latest experience with therapy went as well as it did. “A lot depends on whether you have the right therapist, someone who can push you enough to make progress without making you so pissed off that you stop going.”

“That makes sense.”

“Luckily this time around I did have someone good, on the first try even. A woman in Toronto. I thought I’d hate her at first, she was young and had too many piercings…”

“A therapist with piercings?”

“I know, not the sterotype, right? And she had this one in her eyebrow, it was not a good look for her… but she’s good for me.”

Patrick shifts against David, and David knows without looking at him that he’s got a little frown on his forehead, that’s he’s thinking too much about his next question. “Do you still talk to her?”

“I do. Not on a regular schedule, but every few weeks or month or so, when I have something I want to talk about, or just to check in.”

“Have you talked to her about me? I mean, now?”

Have I ever, David thinks. “Yes. And before you ask, she won’t exactly say whether she thinks it’s a good idea or not, but I think she’s secretly shipping us pretty hard.”

Patrick laughs, and David turns towards him, capturing his mouth in a light, silly kiss.

“I’m glad she approves,” Patrick says, a waver in his voice.

David wants to reassure him, to tell him that everyone does, but he knows it’s not that simple. “It’s not as if Alexis disapproves,” he says.

“She’s just worried for you,” Patrick fills in.

“Yeah.” That’s an understatement. “It, um, it wasn’t good, for me, right after we broke up. And she was there for all of that, so.”

Patrick reaches over and pushes a strand of hair off David’s face, his fingers lingering on his cheek and then resting back on David’s chest. “Do you want to talk about it?”

David’s heart suddenly races, and he wonders if Patrick can feel it. He has known that this moment was coming, that he has to tell Patrick what happened. And he knows, he really does, that Patrick won’t judge. Patrick has been open with him, and David needs to do the same. Keeping things in boxes never worked for them, not in the long run, and it won’t work now either. But no matter how reasonable it seems, David has still been dreading it.

“Yeah,” David says. “Okay.” Patrick shifts closer, and slides his free arm around David, so that David is surrounded by him, Patrick up against his back and breathing softly against his neck. He almost cries, before he even gets started, at this signal from Patrick that he’s loved.

He gives himself a moment to take it in, the fact that he’s going to be telling this story but with Patrick’s arms wrapped around him, and begins. “So, not long after we broke up, one of my mom’s castmates from Sunrise Bay let us use their house in the Hamptons for a while. I don’t know if you’ve ever been, but the summers are pretty much non-stop parties out there, all the rich and famous celebrities and wanna-be’s blowing off steam and abusing every substance they can get their hands on. It was easy to join in, and slip back into some bad habits.”

Patrick nods his head against David’s shoulder, letting David know he’s listening.

“One night at a party, after far too many drinks and a particularly embarrassing social interaction with Neil Patrick Harris’ stylist – who is not as cute as he thinks he is - I decided I was going to leave. On the way back to the house I got into an accident with a driver that was even drunker than I was.”

Patrick holds David tighter, but David just takes a deep breath and goes on. It’s not going to get any easier.

“I broke my collarbone, which wasn’t any fun at all.” He can feel Patrick tensing next to him.

“Was the other driver…?”

“Totally uninjured, which was a fucking miracle, given how our cars looked.”

“Oh David,” Patrick says, his voice tight. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it was all me, no apology necessary.”

“Still, I’m sorry that happened to you. That must have been so scary.” Patrick squeezes David’s hand. “Was that why you stopped drinking?”

David feels his heart start to pound its way up towards his throat. “No, not exactly.” He takes a deep breath, and turns over to face Patrick. It feels wrong to have this conversation without looking at him. Whatever he finds there, he can’t afford to miss it. He needs to see Patrick there in front of him, even if the concern in Patrick’s eyes is almost too much to take. It’s better than the alternative.

He takes another deep breath, steadying himself, and begins the rest of the story. “When I left the party, I knew I couldn’t drive home safely, but I went anyway. Alexis caught me on the way out, begged me to wait until she called an Uber, but I didn’t listen. I actually had scratches on my forearm from her nails, where she tried to stop me.” David pauses for a moment, blinking away the memory of Alexis’ face as he pulled away. “I got in the car and sped out of there. And… I wasn’t drunkenly convinced I’d be fine, it wasn’t an error of judgement. I knew I was too drunk to drive, and I did it anyway. It felt good. It felt… freeing.”

David sees Patrick’s eyes fill with tears as he realizes what David is saying, and he hates himself for doing this to Patrick, just as he did it to his family.

“That’s what really scared me.” He tries to laugh, letting out something more like a sob. “I wouldn’t have thought the Rose family could have any more together time than we did when we lived in the motel, but it turns out I was wrong. My parents moved me into their place in Toronto, we found the good therapist, and I decided alcohol was not my friend. It was months before I moved out into my own apartment.”

Patrick is crying freely now, tears silently streaming down his cheeks. David wraps his arms around his shoulders and pulls him close.

“I’m sorry,” David says. “I didn’t want to tell you, but-”

“Oh god, David,” Patrick says, interrupting him. “Don’t apologize, oh my god, if you had – thank god you didn’t-”

“I’m okay now,” David tries to reassure him, knowing that it isn’t that easy. It took months for Alexis to stop texting him every few hours, thinking that if she kept tabs on him she could keep it from happening again. “I am, I promise. I haven’t felt that way since that night, not even for a minute.”

“Did you – did you really want to kill yourself?”

David has asked himself this question and tried to answer it a million times. “I think it was more like I was indifferent to it,” David says, which is what feels most like the truth. “I didn’t have a plan. I wasn’t going to drive into a tree or off a bridge. I just kind of didn’t care.”

Patrick suddenly sits up and pulls David up with him, until they are looking at each other straight in the eye. “David, you bring light into so many people’s lives. Into mine. You’ve made me happier than anyone ever has, you’ve given me the best moments of my life. You’re creative, and sexy, and gorgeous…” He stops for breath, and David gives him a sideways smile.

“Still not nice, though?”

Patrick freezes, then huffs out a laugh. “You asshole.”

David bites his lip. “I’m sorry, I’ve heard a lot of speeches over the past few years, and it’s not as if I don’t appreciate it, but…”

“But it doesn’t matter.”

“Not when you feel the way I felt. It’s depression, it’s your brain. No one telling you that you’re awesome can really fix it.” There’s a look on Patrick’s face that makes David think that maybe this is ringing a bell for Patrick, and he resolves to go back and revisit it. There’s a part of him that hopes that talking to Patrick about his own experience would maybe prompt Patrick to think about his own troubles, but he needs to let Patrick bring it up himself. Anyway, this conversation isn’t about Patrick, it’s about David, and he has to see it through. “I’m okay now, I really am,” David says.

Patrick grabs his arms, squeezing his biceps tight. “I’m so glad,” Patrick says, “god, more than glad, David…” He blows out an unsteady breath, his eyes flickering away and then back to David before asking, hesitantly, “But you still talk to your therapist. It can come back?”

And there it is, the fucking irony of it all. “Yeah, well, like I said, this wasn’t the first time.” David leans his head back and blinks at the ceiling fan. “Damaged goods.”

Patrick sweeps him into a crushing embrace, one hand holding David’s head tight against his own. “I’m not going anywhere, David, and I’m not letting you go, either. Not this time. I don’t care how miserable you feel – I mean, I care, I don’t want you to be miserable-” Patrick takes a quick breath – “but I’ll still be here, no matter what happens. You won’t chase me away. I’m never letting go of you.”

It’s then, at the end of this whole agonizing conversation, that David finally loses his composure, ugly sobs bursting out of him as he and Patrick cling to each other. He’s not sure how long it goes on. Patrick holds him as he shakes and cries, and whispers reassurances that are pointless but still feel pathetically wonderful.

Finally it subsides, and David finds himself curled up on Patrick’s chest, Patrick stroking his hand up and down his back. He raises himself up on an elbow, and presses his lips together as Patrick wipes his cheeks with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Well, that was a pleasant way to start the day, wasn’t it?” David manages.

David watches as Patrick stares at him, searching his face, and then apparently comes to some kind of decision, some Patrick-inspired solution to this emotionally torturous pothole. “We need pancakes,” Patrick says, sitting up and pushing David to do the same.

David stares at him. “I like pancakes,” he says, stating the obvious.

“I know.” Patrick slides out of bed. “And we’re not eating them here. We’re going out.”

“It’s raining.”

“You won’t melt.”

David feels a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I might.”

“Well then at least you’ll have pancakes first. Get up and get dressed, we’re leaving in twenty minutes.

It’s a welcome escape from the drama of the morning’s conversation, and not only that, a glimpse of the Patrick Brewer David remembers so well, cocky and sure of himself. It’s perfect.

“Give me thirty, and you have a deal.”

The little diner that Patrick takes them to is cute enough, and the pancakes are tasty, but David can’t seem to settle down. It feels like Patrick is looking at him differently, like he’s fragile, and David hates it. He stares at Patrick, sitting across from him in a booth that is nothing like Café Tropical and yet so familiar, until he can’t ignore the elephant in the room anymore.

“I’m really okay,” David says, interrupting an endless story about how Marcy always orders a veggie omelet with no cheese and egg whites but then gets a giant cinnamon roll along with it, and Patrick pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth.

“Okay…” Patrick says, his eyes finding David’s.

“You keep talking about random stuff but I know you’re thinking about something else. About me, about what I told you.”

Patrick’s face shifts into a half-hearted smirk. “It’s not always about you, David.”

“Mmmhm. Then what’s going on?”

Patrick sets his fork down, and suddenly David wishes he hadn’t asked, because Patrick looks nervous, and that can’t mean anything good. Has he changed his mind and realized that David really is too much to deal with? Did he finally succeed in frightening him away?

“What you told me actually gave me a lot of hope,” Patrick says slowly. “That you were – depressed-” he hesitates over the word, but gets it out. “But now you feel better.”

“It’s been up and down, but mostly up, lately,” David babbles, not sure what else to say.

“I think I was,” Patrick says, looking down at his plate. “Depressed. Am still, maybe. Although it’s been better, recently… something’s still wrong. I think I need help shaking it off.”

It hits him like a blow to the chest. It has been obvious that Patrick hasn’t been himself, the way Patrick had described losing his job, and what led to going out with Jamie the night of his attack, but it still hurts to hear Patrick say it. It’s not something that David would wish on anyone.

David knows Patrick didn’t grow up with therapy on Wednesday afternoons in between piano lessons and baseball, and until today, he doesn’t think they ever really had a serious conversation about it. And he’s fairly certain that Patrick considered David’s history with mental health issues to be something that only happened to people not named Brewer.

He reaches across the table and finds Patrick’s hand where he’s clutching his napkin. “This can be a very difficult thing to talk about,” he says. “I’m proud of you for saying it. I’ll be here for you, whatever you need. We can find you a therapist, a good one.”

“One with piercings?”

“Maybe even a sleeve tattoo.”

Patrick manages a weak grin. He knows David’s feelings on permanently marring your skin. But then his smile fades. “I hate that you’re so familiar with all of this.”

“Well, if it can help you at all, at least my experience can be good for something.”

Patrick shakes his head. “Oh my god, this is the worst date ever.”

“Was this a date? But I didn’t bring Stevie.” David can’t help bringing that up, it’s too perfect. And as planned, it makes Patrick laugh so hard he snorts, and has to shove his napkin over his mouth.

“Shut up. I suck at first dates, I get it.”

“Nope.” David gets up and slides around the table, sitting next to Patrick on the bench and draping his arms around his shoulders. “You don’t suck at it. You got us here, both times, and that’s what matters. You are relentlessly persistent when you put your mind to it. You can get through this, Patrick, you can.”

Patrick laces his arms around David’s waist and they sit there for a long moment, squished in between the back of the booth and the table, David rubbing the back of Patrick’s head and trying to ignore the fact that the elbow of his sweater is probably getting in the questionable syrup Patrick soaked his pancakes in.

“Is it wrong for me to wish that you could hug this out of me?” Patrick says into David’s neck. “I mean, it couldn’t be that easy, could it? You make me so happy. I’ve been happier this week than I have been in three years. Just stay right here. Don’t let go.”

David shrugs, smiling against Patrick’s head and pulling him tighter against him. “What do I know, I’m not a therapist. We can try it. But at some point, they’re gonna make us leave this booth.”

#David x Patrick #Schitt's Creek #Schitt's Creek fic #SC fic #David Rose #Patrick Brewer #SC fanfic #Schitt's Creek fanfic #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: depression

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some-dr-writings · 4 years

Text

Gundham makes a friend out of a socially awkward reader

· Interacting with other people had always been a problem for you. If your parents could have afforded to send you to a doctor, you likely would have been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder of some sort. That didn’t really matter to you though. You figured out long ago how to deal with the fear and self-consciousness.

· Keep conversations short, sweet, and to the point.

· Don’t interact longer than is necessary.

· Should you mess up, leave immediately and try again in a day, or so, if it’s something necessary, like a doctor’s visit, then after the conversation, put on headphones and blast music.

· Last and most importantly, should you get overwhelmed, find an animal, any animal and talk to them.

· Ever since you were little, animals always were able to steady your racing heart or blurred mind. You found them to be the best confidants. They seemed to understand you and what you said, but they never judged you for it. For the few times you were able to afford to have a pet, they seemed to always love you no matter what. And in return for this, you always made sure to treat them right, even spoil them at times.

· Ideally you’d have a job with plenty of animals around, but a giant part of you was terrified that if people saw you speaking with the animals they’d think you were mentally unstable and call the police then you’d be sent to jail or something where you’d be forced to be in close quarters with other people! You knew it wasn’t likely, but that paranoid-like way of thinking gnawed at you constantly… You were used to it, but it didn’t make dealing with it any easier.

· Instead you opted for something simple with little contact. A librarian. It was perfect… for the time being. Libraries were getting less and less use with technology advancing so quickly and the rise of e-books. This was only temporary, but at least you were in a good position for the moment. You knew the library you worked at would close down soon, in a year or two at most, it was inevitable.

· The only thing that kept it afloat was collage students, since for some reason collages had yet to catch up with the rest of the world and required physical textbooks that were at least thirty years outdated. The season always filled you with dread. It was a necessity to keep your place of employment and the rest of the year was just lovely for you, but it never made dealing with the young adults any easier.

· You stood by the counter as that dauntingly long line of students formed… Damn, it was a long line… and it kept growing… and growing and growing, and growing, and growing, and were they filling the entire room? Did the room become smaller suddenly? Wait, was it shrinking? Why was the room shrinking!? What the hell is happening!? “Excuse me?” “Huh!? Wha- o-oh, sorry, sorry, you must wan tot take out this book for th e semistrere.” Oh no. No, no, no, no, nonononoonononononononononono You messed up, you really messed up! How the hell were you supposed to proceed from here? You can’t, can you? This can-

· You yelped out feeling a light pressure on your shoulder. You flipped around only to be face to face with you boss. “Hey, Y/N it’s past your break time. I’ll take it from here.” “H-huh?” “Come on, get going now. It’ll be okay.” Hesitantly nodding, you sped-walked away. Once you were out of sight you sprinted for the rear exit.

· You sprinted to the nearby park and slumped down on a bench. You needed to catch your breath. It wasn’t a long sprint but that combined with your growing panic left you winded. Hugging yourself you tried taking slow deep breaths.

· You flinched feeling something hop into your lap. You almost leaped up from your seat before seeing what it was just in time. An orange and white hamster. “… H-hello. What are you doing out here?” There were three other hamsters sitting beside you, nudging your leg. “Oh, were you out for a walk together?” Another hamster, a mostly tan and white one with a chip out of it’s ear, also hopped onto of your lap.

· You spent a moment simply watching them. The first to hop into your lap seemed to be very sweet while the other one seemed to be a bit feisty. The one that kept sleeping was mostly white with tan splotches and the last, a large orange one who seemed to be calm.

· “You guys seem to be doing alright… I wish I could be like that for a moment. I think my day may get worse. My boss is an amazing person. Whenever I panic with customers, they always tell me how I am fantastic in every other aspect and it’s a weakness that didn’t matter all too much since people didn’t come by often… But this was the first time they actually covered for me. This is the first time they told me to go on break when it won’t be for several more hours. I think this is it, I think they’re going to fire me after this!” The hamsters looked up at you chattering away. “Well, yeah… if they’ve put up with me for this long, I guess it wouldn’t make sense why they’d suddenly stop now.” To your surprise the large orange one climbed up your arm and perched itself on your shoulder, nuzzling into your cheek. “You’re right. That’s the panic speaking. I don’t actually know what’s going to happen, but it should be okay.”

· With renewed confidence you straightened your posture. “Okay, break time’s over! I need to get back to work! Thank you for talking with me!” After all the hamsters hopped off you got up and dashed back for work, not noticing the figure that watched you leave. “Hmm… What is it you found so intriguing about that one my Devas?” Holding his hands out they immediately climbed on and burrowed into his scarf. “... They exchanged words of the soul with you!?”

· The next day was just as busy as the last. Your boss handled the counter while you organized materials, getting old musty textbooks out from the back. Before you knew it, it was already break time. Feeling guilty for yesterday you wanted to stay and work a little longer, but your boss practically pushed you out the door telling you to rest.

· You always went for a walk in the park for your breaks. Not often were there many people around, just some wildlife, like birds. It was nice. Sitting on a bench you looked out at the still lake, at the small islands that dotted it and the bridges that connected them to one another and to shore. It was a cool, cloudy day. A small breeze rolled past kicking up some leaves as it went.

· Then you felt something nudge your foot before scurrying up your leg. “Huh!? O-oh, it’s you four again. Hello.” All four curled up in your lap. They all looked so soft and cute. “So, you guys like going on walks it seems.” You placed a hand on your lap. When one of the hamsters began nuzzling your hand you gently pet it. “Boss wasn’t mad at me. They were very understanding. I ended up working at the back away from everyone which was a relief.”

· You noticed how one of the hamsters was sniffing at your pocket. “Oh, you must be smelling the sunflower seeds.” Taking the small pack from your pocket you saw how all the hamsters immediately got excited, entranced by it. Opening the bag, you began to eat. “I always have sunflower seeds during break. It’s convenient to just always carry them in my pocket. Sorry, I would give you some, but I don’t want to overfeed you.”

· “The four Dark Devas of Desteructio-” You yelped, leaping out of your seat suddenly hearing that booming voice behind yourself. “AH! Hamsters!” Thankfully they clung to your clothes and climbed up to your shoulders. Quickly you cradled them on your arms, against your chest to give them more stable ground. “You guys okay? S-sorry for suddenly jolting up like that. Here, you can have some sunflower seeds as an apology.” After placing them on the bench you gave each one a seed. “… The Devas accept your offering, but you knew so already, didn’t you? You can exchange words with beasts!” The voice was much quieter than before. Only now did you truly notice the man who stood behind the bench. You began to slowly back away. “Ah- sorry! Please don’t think I’m a scary person! I swear I’m not dangerous! You don’t need to call the cops!” The man looked at you with a slightly bewildered expression for a moment before looking down to the hamsters. “You were right, they are a fellow beast speaker, yet it appears a looming shadow obscures their view and confines their true strength.” “… huh?” The man kneeled down beside the hamsters and continued to speak. You noticed how there were other, similar looking hamsters starting to poke out of his scarf. “… Hmm… I see. So, that must be the power with which attracted you.” “… y-you speak to animals too?” “Yes. My four Dark Devas of Destruction told me of you, how you could understand them. Not many have a high enough level to have such a talent. I simply had to meet you.”

· He seemed to be quite an odd guy to you, from his speech pattern to having so many hamsters on him at one time, but you weren’t one to judge. A part of you was telling you to just run, there was no reason to speak to him, but with the many hamsters around you were compelled to stay. Though slightly shaking you kneeled down beside the man. “The other hamsters are getting jealous. Is it okay if I give them sunflower seeds too?” “Yes, they will most certainly be appeased by this.” As you gave each one a seed the man continued to speak. “Might I ask, when was it you gained the ability to speak with beasts? You don’t appear to be a being in mortal disguise.” “Uh… I don’t know about speaking to them. Well, I talk to them, and I think they understand me, but it’s not like I can directly translate what they’re saying. I just… listen closely to the sounds they make, and the tone behind it. I also look at their body language. Like the little ones in your scarf began to get antsy as you approached the ones on the bench.” “Hmm… I suppose a mortal can’t truly hear creatures that are not of their own species, yet you still understand even if you don’t truly comprehend. Somehow, you’ve become even more intriguing precisely because you are a mere mortal.” “… w-what? Wait, should I have understood that? Oh no. Have I done something wrong!? I-I-I-I-I-I and I just said I over and over again, h, you now gon think I’m danger out nonononon-”

· The Dark Devas leaped into you lap or onto your shoulders. They either nuzzled into you or lightly nipped at your skin, not enough to break it but enough to feel a sharp pinch. “O-oh, uh, you g-guys want attention. You okay?” You lightly scratched behind their ears and they stopped. “Sorry for worrying you. Heh, heh… at least you can help me calm down.” You sighed, gently petting them. “It seems the curse placed upon you is worse than it appears on the surface. Though the Devas can dispel it.” “O-oh, well… t-talking to animals helps calm me.” “So any beast would do?” “Y-yeah.” A strained smile pulled on your lips as you lightly chuckled. “Even tarantulas and angry geese. Those were… certainly very interesting conversations I had with them.” “Oh, do go on. Such beasts don’t let just anyone near enough to exchange words.”

· And that was how you met Gundham Tanaka. For the first few times you met you got so absorbed in conversation with him and the Twelve Zodiac Generals you all kept forgetting to introduce yourselves. Every few days or so you’d meet Gundham and the Generals at the park during your breaks. It was so nice talking with him, even when you messed up and began to panic the Generals would be by your side easing your pounding heart. It was lovely.

· Soon you and Gundham began meeting outside of your break times. Normally you’d go to his place. He was an animal breeder and had beasts of all sorts even exotic ones you weren’t all to sure were legal to have in your area like Capybaras. These visits were always your favorite. Often, you’d find yourself assisting Gundham in his work. It was fun getting to chat away without worry.

· One day as you were sitting at that familiar bench, you scrolled through your phone. You stopped, feeling a light pressure hop onto you head, shoulders and lap. “Hello.” “Greetings Y/N. Hmm?” He caught a glimpse at what you were searching through. “The halls of shared open secrets is crumbling already?” “No, it’ll still be open for a few months, but not much longer. Boss says they’re saving so I can have a nice severance check. Even so, I thought I’d start searching now. But what other dying businesses are there where I don’t need to interact with people too often… Maybe one with good enough pay so I can meet a therapist finally.” “… Become my disciple, then all your worldly troubles shall be but dead memories.” “… You… You want me to work for you?” “Indeed. No longer shall the demons of this world trouble you so! For you are under the Overlord of Ice’s protection!” “I… You know I still panic at times even with animals around.” “Yes, but I simply take a step back and let you a moment to channel your power through our companions and your curse is lightened.” “… I… I can’t think of any other reason to say no… Thank you, Gundham. You’re a great friend.” “You need not thank me. This is simply the fruits of this friendship. I treat you in kind to the power you entrust in myself.” “… Yeah, you’re my best friend too. Thank you.”

#danganronpa #danganronpa imagine #danganronpa imagines #dr imagine #dr imagines #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa 2 imagine #danganronpa 2 imagines #dr 2 imagine #dr 2 imagines #gundham tanaka #mod gundham #danganronpa2 #super danganronpa 2 #gundham x reader #gundham tanaka x reader

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kaleidescope-writes · 4 years

Text

Faithfully Yours--Chapter 2: Mornings & Gossip

In partnership with @accio-boys

Billionaire!Tom Hiddleston x Doctor!Reader

Slow Burn! (Yay)

Warnings: Swearing, causing a scene, fluff, and a cliffhanger😈

Masterlist

“Absolutely not!” you blurted. The guests, who were paying full attention to your mother, turned to look at you. Many of them had a look of surprise from your mother’s announcement, your sudden exclamation added on to their shock and mild confusion. Your mother, on the other hand, quickly changed her expression from shock to mild anger. “Darling,” she began through gritted teeth, “Let’s have a chat. In private.” She turned to the guests, tone going back to what it was before, “As for our guests, you are free to mingle.” She walked over to you, grabbing your arm harshly and leading you to a secluded corner of the room.

“What the hell was that, YN?” your mother hissed, not letting your arm go. “Mom,” you began, “I’m not going to marry anyone. Especially not him!” She let go of your arm, pushing you back a little in the process, “You have to. This is for the good of the family. Whatever objection you have, suck it up!” You sighed in frustration, “Suck it up? Mom, I’m a top doctor at a hospital! I have zero time to waste on assholes that are charming with everyone else but almost run me over when I get off work!” She took a step closer to you, “This is for the family! You’ll still be a doctor after the wedding! You’re marrying him. That’s final!”

“No!” you shouted, earning the attention of two particular people you desperately wanted to avoid. “Is there a problem, Y/N?” Mr. Hiddleston asked, approaching you and your mother. She glared at you, silently urging you to answer wisely--deny that there was a problem. You gave her a challenging look, eyes never leaving hers, “Actually, yes there is.” You felt both men get closer to you, yet you didn’t break the visual standoff with your mother. “And what might the problem be?” Tom asked, making your stomach turn. “The problem is that I’m not going to marry you, Tom!” you snapped harshly, “Look, it’s been a long day. I had enough to worry about between my job and the first wedding announcement, I don’t need this.” You motioned to your general area, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m a busy doctor and a lot of patients rely on me to keep doing my job instead of marrying,” you looked Tom up and down, “assholes in black jaguars.”

Before anyone could say anything, you walked over to the counter and picked up your purse, continuing your strut out the door. You didn’t even bother to say goodbye to anyone, too enraged to face anyone else in the room. All you wanted was to go back to your office, bury your face in your frustration pillow, and scream. You had no intention to have any social interactions with anyone for the rest of the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waking up on the couch in your office was never ideal, but sometimes it was better than being home. Today was sometimes. You sat up, stretching as you slowly opened your eyes to adjust to the light in the room. Letting your arms drop, you looked at the watch on your right wrist. Six A.M. Lovely. You stood up, yawning as you made your way to your personal bathroom. Opening up the mini drawer you kept extra clothes in, you settled on something to wear and placed it on the sink. Looking up to see your reflection in the mirror, you took note of your disheveled hair and decided to braid it today. You let little things occupy your mind, welcoming the temporary distractions before starting the day. You needed a clear mind to keep an excellent job performance.

You walked into the cafeteria, feeling fresh and ready to start the day. Picking up a small breakfast selection and drink, you walked over to a table occupied by some doctors you were close with. “Hide your shit, boss is here!” Isabel gasped playfully. You laughed, “Breaking your commitment, Dr. Teixido?” Lucille scoffed, “Isabel, the poster child? No way.” You sat down, already beginning to dig in to your meal.You silently listened to the conversation around you quietly as you ate, reacting every once in a while. You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting with them, but you unknowingly finished your food. Just as you were about to excuse yourself from the table, you saw someone else approach the table.

“Y/N! You’re not going to believe this!” Luke said, out of breath from running around looking for his friend. Before you could question what he was talking about, he showed you the article on his phone. Your stomach dropped and you took the phone from him. “What’s going on?” Isabel asked, concerned about your sudden change. “Twitter has been going crazy over the possibility of a romance between a beloved billionaire and the head of New York’s best hospital,” you read, “Billionaire Bachelor Tom William Hiddleston has been shipped with Dr. Y/N L/N from Rose Valley Hospital and Medical Center by thousands of twitter followers, all claiming they’re the “it couple” of the century.” You felt your internal organs begin to turn in discomfort. What the hell?! The other doctors looked at you, all confused as to why you were reacting so negatively.

“Who the fuck is this guy?” you questioned, frustration returning in full swing. “He’s only the most eligible bachelor by far,” Lucille answered, “His parents are millionaire CEO's of a multi-million dollar company. He works in that company and has a fortune of his own. He’s also incredibly hot.” You gave her a look of absolute disgust, unable to understand her attraction. “He’s also an absolute douche-bag. A rich, cocky, unpleasant douche-bag,” you rebuked. Isabel gave you a look, “Why are you so against him?”

“I’d rather not give him more attention than he deserves,” you replied bitterly, handing Luke his phone. “He almost hit Y/N with his car,” he said simply. Teigan turned to Luke, finally deciding to join into the conversation, “I’m sorry, he what? When did this happen?” You put your head in your hands, “Yesterday! Right before my mother told me she made arrangements so that I have to marry the guy.” The group fell silent. An uncomfortable tension filled the air around you. Looking up, you gave them all an expectant look, urging them to say something. They were all silent. Luke shook his head, “Now you won’t say something about how dreamy he is?” Isabel opened her mouth to speak, words falling short as she looked between you and Luke.

You groaned, letting your head fall momentarily before getting up from your seat. “I have work to do. I have to catch up on all the work I put off last night thanks to the damn announcement,” you said as you grabbed your things and walked away from the group. You didn’t think you’d have to tell them so soon, but the article had to exist. Much to your displeasure. Walking out into the hallway, you slowed your pace as your work phone rang. You answered the call, coming to a complete stop near the wall. The voice on the other end of the line made your stomach drop for the second time that morning.

“How the hell did you get this number?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Six-thirty A.M. That’s what the clock on the stove read. Meaning that any moment now, Vivienne would come running down the stairs and get her stuff ready for school. Tom went back to preparing her breakfast knowing that he would hear her coming down. Sure enough, he heard the pattering of the eight-year-old coming down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Good morning, uncle Tom!” she greeted in her usual cheery voice. Tom smiled, turning around to face her, “What, no good morning hug? Have you grown out of hugging your uncle already, Vivie?” Vivie smiled at him, running over to him to have him a quick hug. Tom leaned down to hug her back, smile widening as he did.

“Anything exciting happening in class today?” He asked, pulling away from her and going back to the food. “We’re starting a new book today. The teacher hasn’t told us about it because it’s a surprise,” she smiled as she sat down on a chair, placing her backpack on the counter. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it,” Tom laughed, “You’re just like me, you know. Now sit patiently for a bit while I finish with breakfast.” Vivie nodded, pulling her tablet out of her bag and opening one of the educational game apps. Tom continued with the two omelets as the room filled with the sounds of Vivie’s game. This was his every morning, making sure Vivie was ready for school before the bus picked her up and getting ready for work himself. This was what his life was composed of, and he was happy. He didn’t feel the need to marry a stubborn, know-it-all doctor. Even if his father thought Vivie needed a mother, he could do much better than Y/N L/N. And if they did get married, she would never have time for Vivie like he does. She said it herself, she’s a busy person. She has patients to take care of.Y/N L/N has no time for family whatsoever. Besides, Tom didn’t want Vivie to grow up as bitchy and grouchy as her.

Deciding the omelets were ready, he grabbed the spatula to his left and took them out of the pan one at a time and placed them onto separate plates. He didn’t notice the sounds from Vivie’s game had gone silent until now and he grew suspicious. Both plates in hand, he turned to the counter where Vivie sat and instantly noticed her reading something. “What’s that you’re reading?” he asked as he put both plates on the counter. Vivie looked up at him confused, “Who’s Y/N?” Tom’s smile faded, holding his hand out to her. Vivie gave him the tablet, still waiting on his answer.

Tom began reading through the article on the screen, a feeling of dread washing over him. “Shit,” he whispered, looking at the blurry picture of them together. “Is this bad?” Vivie asked, still trying to get him to respond. Tom snapped out of his shock, looking at her before he spoke, “Yes--well, not really. It just means I have to make a call. Keep an eye on my food, please. And don’t even think about switching it with yours while I’m gone.”

Taking out his phone as he walked over to the window in the kitchen, he dialed the number of his assistant. “James, I need you to find someone’s phone number for me,” Tom ordered as soon as he picked up, “Her name is Dr. Y/N L/N. She works at Rose Valley, I believe.” There was shuffling on the other end before James asked, “Is this about the article?” Tom sighed, “Yes, now please find it for me. It’s urgent.”

There was a brief silence before James began to read the numbers out to Tom, which he quickly wrote down on the kitchen chalkboard. He thanked James before hanging up and beginning to dial her number. As soon as she picked up, he rushed out, “We need to talk.”

“How the hell did you get this number?” she asked, sounding surprised and angry all at once. “You’re a famous doctor, I’m surprised you don’t know how easy it is to find it,” Tom scoffed, “Look, that’s not important now. We need to talk in person. There’s an article going around--” “Yes, I know about the article,” Y/N interrupted, “Why does it need to be in person?” Tom sighed, “This is urgent.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You left the hospital early for the second time this week. It wasn’t your idea, but an article had to appear the day after you were told you’d be forced to marry a millionaire. And now, said millionaire wanted to talk, claiming it was too urgent to talk about over the phone. So you found yourself on an elevator of the Empire State Building, heading up to the balcony at the top. The sun had set earlier, making the city lights shine outside.

The elevator came to a stop, doors opening and allowing you to continue your journey to meet with him. As soon as you walked out into the balcony, you saw him looking down at the city with his hands in his pockets, back turned to you. You stopped in your tracks, deciding to maintain some distance between the two of you. He sensed your presence and fixed his posture, keeping his back to you. You cleared your throat, preparing yourself for whatever his purpose was.

“So what do you want to talk about?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Done!! It took a while, but it is posted!! I hope you enjoyed today’s Chapter. What did you think? Let me know in the comments as feedback is both appreciated and encouraged. Ok, I promised something else today, and rest assured it will happen. I love you, Stay Safe, Stay Proud, Be careful, and I’ll see you in a bit!!

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