#because nothing about the game is dazzling but you DO constantly hear the rush of wind as you fall sideways at 100mph

[kirbyddd]

even though in practice the gameplay is a total slog some part of me is missing Gravity Rush so hard

theres this atmosphere so distinct and unique about the games of the early psvita era

[miracleonice87]

Begin Again, part two

with Mathew Barzal

a/n: in honor of @kerwritesthings’ birthday (that’s right, go wish her a happy one if you haven’t already!)… Hayden and Mat are back! part one was one of the earlier pieces I wrote, and it was a combo of a reader/oc, which I don’t really like to use in my writing now, but I’m sticking with it for consistency’s sake. title is based on T Swift's song, which I obviously don't own and all that stuff.

warnings: swearing, allusions to sex, nothing graphic

word count: 5.3K+

_____

“Hayden!” you heard from across the Coliseum concourse, just moments after you’d stepped through the doors of the main entrance. A stunning platinum blonde with a dazzling smile quickly approached, waving excitedly. Your first instinct was to look over your shoulder to try and determine who the woman was speaking to, since you didn’t recognize her, but she had called your name.

Instead, you forced a small smile and tentatively stepped toward her. As soon as she was within arm’s reach, she gathered you into a tight hug.

“Sorry, I’m a hugger!” she exclaimed, then stepped back and fanned a hand across her chest. You couldn’t help but notice the rock on her left ring finger, not to mention her perfectly manicured nails and pristine blue silk Islanders jacket, paired with a white t-shirt, black jeans, and snakeskin boots. “I’m Sydney, but you can call me Syd. It’s Sydney Esiason Martin, actually. I’m Matt Martin’s wife, but all the guys just call him Marty,” she explained, her hands gesturing animatedly all the while.

It was all coming together in your brain now, that Mat must have arranged for Sydney to be on the lookout for you, and you nodded slowly, your smile growing.

“I’m Hayden,” you offered, but of course, she already knew that, you thought as you mentally kicked yourself. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, and Marty, too.”

Sydney beamed, her eyes glittering. “Yeah, you, too!” she said. “It isn’t often Barzy brings a girl around the group. Well, honestly… it isn’t ever, actually,” she said with a lighthearted giggle. “You must be pretty special.”

You breathed a chuckle and swiped your tongue along your bottom lip, lost for words.

Sydney must have sensed your unease, because after a beat, she gave your upper arm a light squeeze and nodded her head toward the escalators leading to the suite level.

“C’mon, I’ll show ya where we’re sitting,” she said. “I’m starving. I think I want a pretzel with cheese. Are you hungry? They have the most incredible nachos up there, just wait…”

And as Sydney rambled on about the delicacies to be found in the family suite, your anxieties about meeting the people there suddenly shrunk, and you found yourself thinking that you were going to like this “Syd.”

_____

The game was a blowout.

New York beat Ottawa 6-1, and Mat had a goal and three assists, not to mention the night’s second star. You had held your own in the family box, and Sydney had been the perfect guide — introducing you to the kindest of the guys’ partners and avoiding the ones that side-eyed you standoffishly, whispering in your ear that so-and-so had dated two NHLers in the past, and so-and-so and her boyfriend were constantly on and off, and that Syd didn’t expect them to be around for long, so don’t worry about them. You mostly spent the evening nodding along politely to various conversations, giggling at Sydney’s over-the-top antics, and making small talk with some of the veterans’ wives. They all seemed relieved to know that you were familiar with the hockey world and, therefore, had at least a hint of what you were (potentially) getting yourself into.

But one thing you hadn’t expected? When Syd turned to you a few minutes after the game ended and said, “Oh! Matt just texted me. He said Barzy wants me to bring you downstairs.”

You swallowed your last sip of beer, hard.

“Downstairs?” you asked softly after a long pause.

“Uh huh!” Sydney nodded emphatically, tucking her phone into her Louis Vuitton bag and patting your knee. “He probably wants to introduce you to some of the boys. Don’t worry,” she said with a nonchalant wave of her hand, doing her best to calm your nerves.

You nodded slowly and reached for your own, much less expensive, bag. “O-okay.”

Ten minutes later, you were in the depths of the Coliseum in a lounge across from the locker room, Sydney chatting away about how when playoffs start, you’ll have to join her and the other girls for tailgating in the parking lot before the game, because it’s such a blast, and it’s a lot easier to watch your significant other knock the shit out of someone (or get the shit knocked out of him) when you’re tipsy. You stayed noncommittal, all the while questioning in your mind whether Mat would even want you around once playoffs started.

But you didn’t have long to dwell on that, because a moment later, the locker room door swung open, and two tall, broad, light brown-haired men stepped through it, Mat close on their heels. You could have sworn you heard him sharply whisper “please don’t embarrass me” before they crossed the hallway, but then again, maybe that was just in your head, because immediately after, Mat gave you a huge smile and stepped forward to pull you in for a hug.

“Hey!” he greeted warmly, then completely caught you off guard by pecking your lips, right there in front of half a dozen of his teammates and their partners.

You touched your fingertips to your lips, feeling them buzzing at the unexpected contact. You recovered as quickly as you could and smiled back at him, lost in the way he looked in his sharp grey suit and in how he smelled fresh out of the shower.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

And just as you studied Mat’s appearance, he was studying yours — taking in your royal blue blazer, the way your light-wash jeans hugged your curves perfectly, and, of course, admiring the Manolo Blahniks you’d scrimped and saved for two years to purchase.

“Nice shoes,” Mat commented, winking flirtatiously. You giggled, his words echoing the very first he had ever spoken to you back in the coffee shop. “Seriously, though, you look beautiful, Hayden,” he added.

Your cheeks warmed, and you tucked your hair behind your ear as you glanced down at your feet.

“Thanks, Maty,” you said quietly. “You look great, too.”

With an appreciative nod, he pressed his hand to your lower back and guided you nearer to the men accompanying him, who had already greeted their significant others — Syd kissing Matt, and Grace, you remembered, hugging her husband, whose name you couldn’t quite recall.

“Well, Hayd, you know Syd and Grace now, but I want to introduce you to their husbands, Marty and Anders,” Mat said, motioning toward them. “Anders is our captain, and Marty’s like my team dad.”

You giggled at that, glancing up at Mat fondly before focusing back on his teammates and extending your arm.

“It’s so nice to meet you both,” you said, shaking their hands.

“You, too,” Anders said. “I’m glad you came out tonight.”

“Yeah, Barzy won’t shut up about you, and now we see what all the fuss is about,” Marty said, laughing at his own joke as Sydney poked him in the ribs playfully.

“What’s this about Barzy not shutting up?” you heard from behind the wall of well-dressed men in front of you, before an icy blue-eyed man stepped forward. Mat rolled his eyes.

“And this is Tito,” Mat said, waving his arm toward the man you knew to be his close friend. “Don’t let him fool you — he doesn’t ever shut up, either.”

Tito smirked at that and held out his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Hayden,” he said kindly. “You’ll have to come back — you must’ve been our good luck charm tonight.”

You shook your head shyly. “No, no, I can’t take the credit,” you insisted. “That was all you guys. But yes, it’s so nice to meet you, too, Tito.”

Tito smiled, looking between you and Mat, and before Tito could offer a response, Mat spoke into your ear.

“I got us a reservation at this place nearby,” he said, his low tone making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “I don’t wanna rush you, but we should probably get going. Besides, hopefully this is far from the last opportunity you’ll have to hear my friends chirp me.”

You smiled up at Mat, admiring the way his still-damp hair fell perfectly around his sculpted face, and nodded.

“Sure, let’s go,” you told him.

_____

“Okay, favoriiite... NFL team.”

“Seahawks," Mat answered. "Since Seattle’s not far from Coquitlam, you know?”

You nodded. “Plus Russell Wilson and Ciara are everything.”

“Everything,” he agreed dramatically, knocking his knuckles on the table for emphasis. “What about you?”

“Oh, Pats all the way,” you proclaimed, sitting back in your chair. “The day Brady signed with the Bucs was top five worst days of my life,” you added emphatically.

Mat clucked his tongue. “Awww, poor baby,” he said teasingly, throwing you a wink. You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, okay, your turn. Next question,” you said, reaching across the table for his hand, tracing the veins there with your fingertips as Mat beamed at you, unable to think immediately of another inquiry as he was too distracted by your soothing touch.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Alright, uh,” he began. “How about... oh, what was your favorite movie as a kid?”

A faraway smile spread slowly across your lips as you looked just past Mat, recalling laying on the floor of your den back in Maine, Nick by your side as you watched the same VHS tape over and over again.

“You’ve probably never heard of it,” you started, shaking your head. “But, uh, it was called Brave Little Toaster.”

Mat stilled.

“Shut up,” he deadpanned.

Your brows pulled together, puzzled. “What?”

Mat chuckled in disbelief. “Brave Little Toaster was my favorite movie as a kid.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re lying,” you accused.

Mat put up his hands in innocence.

“Swear!” he insisted. “You can call my sister right now. We watched it every day for years.”

You could only grin stupidly. “Us, too,” you told him. “Sequels weren’t that good, though,” you added, taking a sip of your wine.

Mat nodded, looking pleased with that assessment, and thought not for the first time that night about how easy this all felt with you. How right. From the simplest thing to the most important.

“No, no, they were trash,” he laughed. “Brave Little Toaster Goes to Mars, and, uh... shit, what was the other one… uh, Brave Little Toaster…”

“To The Rescue,” you finished, Mat echoing the last word before you both fell into a fit of giggles.

“I cannot believe we have this much in common, Maty,” you said when you finally caught your breath.

“Yeah, pretty crazy, right?” Mat said. You nodded as he reached for his gin and tonic. “Feels like I’ve met my other half,” he said.

You pressed your lips together in an attempt to hide your shy smile, dropping your gaze to your lap. From across the table, Mat squeezed your hand. Then, a voice piped up from behind you.

“I hate to interrupt…”

You turned in your seat to find the maître d' leaning toward you, an apologetic look in his eyes.

“We’re going to be closing, so I just wanted to ask—”

“Oh, god, did we close the place down?!” you asked apprehensively, glancing around the room to discover that, indeed, you and Mat were the last two in the room.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Mat said, flustered. “I didn't even realize. We’ll get out of your hair. I’m so sorry, sir. Really.”

The man shook his head in understanding and left the table as the waiter approached with the bill.

Suddenly, your stomach dropped. You couldn’t even fathom how much two steak dinners and drinks for the both of you would cost at a place like this. You felt guilty for agreeing to come here instead of suggesting something less extravagant, and you braced yourself as you waited for Mat to make some noise of disgust at the number on the check, just like you’d been used to at the end of date nights for so long.

But, it never came. Mat simply tucked a few bills into the fold, and looked back up at you with a smile and a contented sigh.

“You ready?” he asked easily.

You nodded. “I’m ready for anything with you.”

Mat jutted out his chin proudly and came around to pull out your chair. With his hand gently resting on the small of your back, he guided you to the valet station in front of the restaurant while you waited for his car to be brought around. All the while, Mat felt his heart thudding against his ribcage as he contemplated his next move.

Unaware of his internal struggle, you turned to him with a smirk as you awaited the car’s arrival, and you slipped your hands into his jacket pockets as you leaned into his chest.

“My hands are cold,” you explained simply, while Mat nodded, thinking that there was no better feeling than you reaching out for him. He only wanted to be near to you, ever, always, which brought him to finally posing his long anticipated inquiry.

“Hey, uh…” Mat began, clearing his throat nervously. “I was thinkin’, maybe you’d wanna come over to my place, like, maybe for the night? Honestly I just… I just wanna spend as much time with you as I can, especially since we’ve got another roadie coming up. And I’d love to just curl up on the couch with you, maybe watch a movie—“

“Yes,” you answered softly, but firmly. You had never been more certain that yes, you wanted to go home with this person. Right now.

Mat was caught off guard by your confident answer, and he smiled down at you in disbelief.

“You sure?” he asked. “There’s no pressure, Hayd. I know this is moving fast and all.”

You nodded. “It is,” you concurred. “But it feels… good. It feels right. And I wanna come home with you, Maty.”

Mat grinned from ear to ear and grasped your face with both his hands, kissing you deeply just as his car pulled up to the curb. He took your hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Let’s go then.”

_____

You did spend the night at Mat's that night, and the next night, and the one after that. But the one after that, Mat wasn’t around, and was instead in Raleigh for the first half of a two-game road trip. So, you were surprised when, while you were watching the game, you heard your doorbell ring. Frowning, you jogged to your door and hit the intercom.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, Miss Parker?”

“This is she.”

“Got a delivery for you. Says it’s from an ‘M. Barzal’?”

You smirked, tucking your chin to your chest.

“I’ll be right down.”

Seconds later, you were bounding down the stairs to meet the delivery person, who stood on your building’s front steps holding a stout bouquet of full, white peonies. You thanked them as you took the bouquet in your hands, staring down at it wistfully as you closed the door behind you. Not bothering to wait until you were back in your apartment to read the note, you pulled the card from the envelope tucked within the bouquet.

Hayd,

Pretty flowers for my pretty girl. Be home soon. Don’t forget about me.

MB

_____

“Baby sis!”

You heard your brother’s booming voice on the other end of the line three days later, sounding a bit distant. By that and the sound of papers shuffling, you knew he had you on speaker at his office. “What’s up, Hayd?”

You smiled at his eternally effervescent tone.

“Hi, Nicky,” you greeted. “Oh, nothing much.” Lie. “Just wanted to give you a call and check in.”

“Aww, I’m flattered,” Nick replied. “But you know that I know you better than anybody else, right? I can tell by your voice that you’ve got something to say. What’s goin’ on? Lay it on me.”

You bit your bottom lip. Damn him. Even all the way from Boston, he could still read you like a book. You couldn’t help the girlish giggle that escaped you as you admitted, “Okay, okay. I wanted to tell you that I, uh... I met somebody.”

You could practically hear his eyebrows shoot up over the phone.

“Really?” Nick drawled, lengthening both syllables dramatically. You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, but still, you beamed.

“Really,” you confirmed. “Somebody you’d, uh... somebody you’d actually probably recognize.”

“What do you mean? You cop yourself an attorney or what?”

“No,” you responded, fussing with the frayed hem of your cropped sweater. “No, not quite—“

“What, a Yankee then?”

Your eyes widened at his surprisingly accurate interruption. He was more on the nose than he knew.

“Well... not a Yankee, but...”

“Shut up,” he cut you off once more. “A Met? A Jet?”

You bit at the skin around your polished plum fingernails before you spat out, “An Islander.”

Silence. Then, a bellow.

“What?!”

That was Nick. Ever the thespian.

“It’s Mat Barzal, Nicky,” you answered matter-of-factly. “Like something out of a goddamn rom-com, I met him in a coffee shop about a month ago, and we’re… we’re dating. He’s my boyfriend.” You uttered the last words of your statement with an astonished laugh. It still seemed too good to be true just in your own head — telling someone else made you sound certifiably crazy, even to your own ears.

“I- … how... Jesus! What?!” Nick sputtered. “Hayden! What the fuck! Well, ‘m happy for you, but I’m just… I think I’m in shock right now.”

You groaned with a pained chuckle.

“I know. I’ve been in shock this entire time,” you concurred. “But Mat, he’s… he’s amazing. It sounds so cliché, but he’s just such a normal guy. He’s super polite, funny, thoughtful—“

“Plus he’s an absolute man rocket,” Nick added enthusiastically.

You put a hand to your forehead, rolling your eyes once more.

“Spoken like a true former hockey player,” you commented.

Quickly moving on from your remark, Nick asked, “So, when do Annie and I get to meet him? Seen him on the ice for years but I gotta make sure he’s good enough for my baby sis.”

You smiled warmly at his often-used term of endearment and replied, “Well, yeah. That’s kinda the main reason I wanted to talk to you. He plays the B’s next weekend, on Sunday, at the Garden. The game’s at 1, I think, so… uh… he got us tickets — three tickets. He wants me and you and Annie to go to the game and then he wants us all to go out together—“

“Done,” your brother spoke up firmly before you could even finish. You beamed at his confirmation, despite the fact that he had interrupted you for what felt like the hundredth time in your three-minute call.

“Really?” you asked, scrunching your nose tentatively. “I know you guys are really busy, especially with wedding planning and stuff, and I’d totally understand—“

“Hayden, stop,” Nick spoke sternly. “Seriously. It’s no problem. Sundays are good for us. Besides, even if I did have plans, I’d cancel them for this. Meeting my sister’s new boyfriend is a big deal.”

Absentmindedly, you nodded, though he couldn’t see it.

“Well, thank you, Nicky. It means a lot. I’ll let Mat know you can make it. He’ll be so excited,” you told your brother happily.

“Awesome,” Nick replied warmly. “So what about Mom and Dad? They haven’t met the kid yet, have they?”

You snorted. “Nicky, you’re only two years older than him,” you pointed out. “You can’t call him a kid.”

“Sure I can!” he insisted. “He’s dating my kid sister — that makes him a kid to me.”

You sighed, amused.

“Whatever. But no, they have not met him yet,” you said. “That’ll happen soon enough, you know? I mean, you know how Dad can be — he can come off as kinda gruff, even though you and I know he’s a teddy bear. And Mom, she’s just gonna fall in love with him, and I’m not ready for that just yet.” You chuckled as you heard Nick offer a hum of understanding on the other end of the phone. “Besides, he has a lot of respect for you, and you guys have a lot in common. I just think it would be great for the two of you to meet first,” you said.

“What do you mean he has a lot of respect for me?” Nick asked, sounding puzzled.

One of your brows quirked of its own accord and a smirk stretched across your lips. You’d unwittingly skipped over the best part — the best part for Nick, anyway.

“Oh, I didn’t mention that?” you asked smugly. “He remembered you. The first day we met, I told him my brother played in the Q, he asked my last name… and immediately, he remembered you.”

You heard Nick suck in a breath. “You can’t tell me shit like this, sis,” he said. “Annie always says my ego is already too big as it is, and you just inflated it even more.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, amused by his declaration.

“Well, that’s facts,” you replied. “He remembered the injury, but most of all, he remembered how good you were. He was really glad to hear you’re doing well now.”

“Marry him, or I will,” Nick deadpanned. You could tell he was trying to use humor to mask any emotions your statement had stirred up.

“Oh, Annie would love to hear you say that,” you scoffed, then you glanced at the clock above you. “Listen, I gotta get to the Coli, but I’ll—“

“Oh, my god, my name is Hayden, and my boyfriend is an Islanderrr! I have to get to the Coli to watch him playyy!” your brother mimicked ruthlessly.

You growled at Nick’s playful mocking of you and spat, “Hey, you want these B’s-Isles tickets next weekend or not?”

Immediately, Nick shaped up.

“Just kidding, my darling baby sister! I’ll let you go, and I’ll see you next weekend,” he said.

“Deal. I’ll call you once Mat and I go over the details and stuff,” you promised.

“Sounds good. I’ll talk to ya then. Hey — one more thing,” Nick said hurriedly.

“What’s that?” you inquired as you swung your handbag over your shoulder and grabbed your jacket from the hook in your entryway.

“Are you happy?” Nick asked, his voice more solemn than it had been throughout your entire conversation — more solemn than it almost ever was. Your lips stretched into a slow grin.

“Honestly, Nicky…” you began, a dreamy sigh leaving you as you paused pulling on your jacket. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m super happy.”

You could hear Nick smiling as he replied, “Good. I can tell. You deserve it, Hayd.”

“Thanks,” you answered softly. “It feels really good.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Nick retorted knowingly. You hummed in agreement and he added, “Alright, I’ll talk to you later. I love you, baby sis.”

“I love you, too, brother,” you replied. “Bye.”

You tapped the red button on your screen to end the call and slipped your jacket the rest of the way over your shoulders as you headed for the door. Just as you reached for the knob, your phone dinged with a text alert.

MB 😍: See you after the game, beautiful. Sushi and sleepover at my place tonight? Up to you. Just let me know 😘

You felt your cheeks warm as a smile stretched across your face, grinning like an idiot at your phone as you had every day for the last month — not that you cared. In fact, it was a welcome change from the sighs and eye rolls you used to emit when reading texts from your last significant other. You felt grateful for this new beginning, this flood of long-dormant feelings you didn’t know you’d ever feel again.

Your fingers flew easily across the keyboard as you typed your response: Sounds perfect. Count me in. Good luck, baby 💋

Within seconds, as you pulled the door closed and headed for the parking garage, his reply lit up your screen.

MB 😍: 🥰

Yeah, you couldn’t have said it better yourself.

_____

The next weekend after dinner, Nick stood with his arm wrapped around Annie’s shoulders, waving goodbye as he watched you and Mat turn and walk down the sidewalk in front of the restaurant hand in hand. Annie squeezed Nick’s waist as he sighed.

“What’s the matter?” Annie asked with a soft smile.

Nick shook his head.

“Nothin’,” he said. “Absolutely nothing is the matter. That kid is… I mean, he’s somethin’ else, huh?”

Annie chuckled thoughtfully.

“He really is,” she agreed. “I’ve known your sister since she was a kid, and I’ve never seen her so giddy as she was today with him.”

“Yeah, me either,” Nick said, his voice sounding far away. “I feel like… I dunno, I feel like this might be the real thing. I know it sounds crazy to say that already.”

Annie grinned, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I don’t think it’s crazy,” she said. “I think they’re really in love.”

Nick breathed a laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “Who woulda thought? My sister and an Islander. Shit.”

_____

“Don’t freak out,” Mat spoke, an anxious smirk on his face as his eyes glimmered.

“Maty!” you whined. “You’re scaring me. What the hell is it?” you asked, your eyes landing once more on the white box tied with a blue satin ribbon.

“Just open it,” Mat instructed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as you studied him cautiously.

You shook your head, wondering what on earth he was up to, but pulled the ribbon to loosen the bow nonetheless. You pulled the top of the box off and peeled away the tissue paper beneath to reveal a denim jacket, the name “BARZAL” and the number 13 embroidered in blue and orange on the back, along with an Isles logo, a blue heart, and plenty of gemstones.

You silently looked toward Mat, who gazed at you expectantly.

“It’s a WAG jacket,” he explained. “You’ve probably seen some of the girls wear them to games.”

You nodded slowly, unable to think of even a single-word response. You knew what it was. You just couldn’t believe it was yours.

You looked back down to the jacket, then finally back at Mat. He moved from his seat on the couch to sit beside you on the loveseat, taking your hand.

“Listen, I know it’s still really early on, but, I… it just felt like a no brainer to me, Hayd,” he said, his words rushed. “You totally don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to — there’s no pressure. But with the playoffs coming up, Syd asked me if I wanted to have one made for you, and I said I did. I didn’t know if I should clear it with you first, but I wanted to surprise you with it, so I—”

“You… you want me to wear this to games?” you interrupted, your brows furrowed.

Mat’s own face contorted with confusion.

“Y-yeah… yeah, of course I do, baby,” he said. “You’re my girlfriend. And I want people to know it.”

You tried to hide your unsureness under a tight smile as you ran your fingers along the decals adorning the jacket, trailing your touch down the seams. You weren’t sure if you would ever get used to being someone that your significant other was proud of and wanted to show off to the world. Past that, you couldn’t believe that Mat had purchased this for you on his own, with no strings attached — just by looking at the custom item, you knew it had been far from cheap. Every day, Mat made you feel like the most special person in the world, and sometimes you weren’t sure why he bothered, or why he’d chosen you when he could have literally anyone else.

But instead of voicing what your insecurities and your past traumas were screaming at you, you simply decided to take Mat at his word — something you’d been working hard on since the start of this relationship. You flashed a million dollar smile and threw your arms around his neck.

“Thank you, Maty,” you whispered into his ear. You felt his arms tighten around you, his hands gently caressing your back. “This means so much to me.”

Mat smiled over your shoulder and kissed your temple.

“It means everything that you wanna wear it,” he told you, pulling back. “I can’t wait to see you in it.”

You beamed and glanced back down at the garment.

“You want me to try it on?” you asked excitedly, like a little kid just home from a back-to-school shopping spree.

Mat nodded, smiling. “I would love for you to try it on,” he assured.

You wasted no time pulling the jacket from the box and lifting it up. You put one arm into the first sleeve, and Mat guided the other arm after it. Upon closer inspection, you could see your own name embroidered into the wrist of the left sleeve, along with a date in matching script on the other sleeve.

“What’s this?” you asked, smoothing your finger along the thread as you held out your arm to Mat.

The corners of his lips ticked upward into a smile. “The day we met,” he said simply.

You met his eyes and immediately leaned in, grasping his face in one hand as you kissed him, overwhelmed by his constant thoughtfulness.

“Thank you,” you repeated, and Mat only nodded. He took your hands and squeezed.

“Stand up, show me,” he insisted.

You giggled and obliged, doing a little spin with your arms outstretched as Mat laughed.

“Wow, baby, it looks great on you,” he said, in awe. “I absolutely love it. Do you like it?”

You nodded, biting at your bottom lip.

“It’s perfect,” you said, smoothing your hands along the fabric. “I’m definitely wearing it to the next game.”

Mathew nodded, pleased to hear your declaration, and crooked his finger, inviting you closer. You stepped forward, rested your knees on the couch on either side of his lap, and looped your arms around his neck. Mathew began to peck at your lips, jaw, and neck playfully.

“You look,” kiss, “so good,” kiss, “with my name,” kiss, “on your back,” kiss, followed by a mischievous squeeze to your butt.

You felt heat rise from your chest, up your neck, to your face, and you leaned back to rid yourself of the jacket and carefully toss it onto the back of the couch, causing Mat to pout his lips.

You shook your head, placing your index finger to his pucker.

“For what I have planned to say thank you, I’m not gonna wanna be wearing anything nice,” you told him, removing your finger to kiss his lips.

Mat raised his eyebrows and hummed his approval.

“How about not wearing anything at all?” he asked, cockiness in his tone as he tugged at your t-shirt. Following his cues, you removed it from your body and tossed it onto the floor.

“Whatever you say, Barzal,” you said, though Mat was too focused on your lacy bra to think of a response.

Instead, he hoisted you over his shoulder as you squealed with laughter, hauling you to the bedroom and leaving the denim jacket to be worn another day.

[theredsuzuran]

Yandere Muzan x Reader

I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors, also for my crappy writing I hope It does not bore you lol. Slight mention of gore

It was the time of summer

A multitude of people hovering over one another in the vast space of the lively Asakusa city occupying the streets like tiny ants. Unfortunately it was same monotonous sight for kibutsuji Muzan progenitor of the morbid demon race, who seems to be roaming around uninterestingly looking for a suitable prey to hunt. The fleeting lives of mortals, their compassion, happiness, sorrow, pain held no value to him. They are pests who belong in the dirt or beneath his feet, inferior compare to a perfect being like himself. Nothing more than a tool that he won't hesitate to discard after his desires are fulfilled. All of a sudden his gaze felt upon a petite figure near a tailor shop, a large number of people gathering around her.

What's the matter, mister? Muzan inquired to a man next to him.

"if you are new definitely try her kimonos, now make way" the man said quickly as he rushed to the shop pushing all the people away. He was interested to know what the deal was about so he decided to stay for a while hoping it's worth the wait.

After a long delay muzan finally got the chance to view the women. As their eyes locked the dazzling city lights broader than the day itself felt dull in comparison for a moment, the once monochromatic world seems to change vibrantly with her luminous presence, As if goddess Amaterasu, the diety of sun herself have ascended from the heaven into the mortal realm. The demon lord stood there mesmerized by her breathtaking beauty, how can someone so close to perfection exist alongside those barbarians.

"How can I help you mister?" She questioned politely with her soft vocal. His endless thoughts were interrupted breaking the silence.

"Show me your kimonos"

And so his obsession started..

Days passed since his last encounter with the woman. He have come across numerous marvelous humans in everlasting lengthy life but never have his ruby eyes caught a glimpse of someone as alluring as her. The girl possesses an unique aura that differentiated her from the rest of the crowd, able to draw attention from the cold hearted creator of cannibalistic demons. At first muzan was just curious to know about that woman, possibly persuade her to become one of his underling because of the potentials she may carry. He frequently begun to visit her shop to but or sew different fabrics. Gaining basic information, like her name, likes and dislikes, etc. Her grandfather owned the tailor shop which sold finest quality garments from the beginning and were highly respected for their excellent tailoring. Continued by (y/n) at her family's will, who runs the shop with equal undying devotion.

She treated him with such kindness even though he was a ruthless demon not that she knew about it or let alone the existence of demons. The deepest corner of his dark heart illuminated with pure light whenever she was around and he came to the conclusion that she was the ray of sunshine he desires to perceive. Eversince he was cured from his fatal illness the only goal in his life was to conquer the sun which prevents him to achieve absolute perfection, in order to live an eternal and indestructible life or so he thought until that very day his eyes laid upon you. It would be stupid to think that demons are capable of experiencing love, concepts of feelings are completely foreign in their conciousness, it was more like obsession. His megalomania makes him believe he needs you no he wants you.

Alas, if only it was a fairytale. The king does not always gets what he desires and same goes for the demon lord when he finds out that his beloved darling already has a lover. As he witnessed the sight of you hugging your partner with passion. The way her eyes flutter infront of him when he caresses her cheeks making her turn away bashfully and how she hold his hand with her delicate ones while exchanging vows of love and loyalty towards each other made his blood boiled with fury. If anyone who can hold her fragile frame is none other but the demon lord himself yet there she was sharing intimacy with some filthy creature. His narcissistic self was put down with a lowlife, he cannot accept that his (y/n) was claimed someone else's. It was something he would never allow to happen.

"Kibutsuji san would you like to buy something today as well?" The women who now acknowledge his presence asked him cheerfully.

"Should I visit you later" a force smile graced on his pale features.

"Oh no, it's fine, let me introduce you to my fiancee" she said excitedly.

"Nice to meet you kibutsuji san" your fiancee said

"Pleasure to meet you as well" The demon scoffed under his breath but Kibutsuji was quite adamant he knew it was not hard to turn the tables anytime sooner as with a blink of an eye he can get rid of him by simply ordering his underlings without even hesitating to dirty his hands exclusive for his precious darling. But that was not what muzan was planning to do at all as his mind was engulfed with much sinister thoughts.

To insanity?

"You have been restless for a long time, what's wrong my child?" A man asked with a look of concern written all over his face looking straight at the figure of an anxious woman roaming around impatiently within the house.

"Its been a week father since he last wrote a letter to him" she mumbled softly disappointment painted across her features. The father could not help but laugh a little by her daughter's remark.

"Father please it is serious"

"I am sorry sweetheart but it might be that your fiancee is busy with wedding preparation" which made sense because the wedding would be taking place after three day and it was obvious that he was caught up with the arrangement. However there was a strange feeling inside her stomach which made her believe otherwise.

As the days passed the wedding day came close, with (y/n) still not receiving any message from her lover. Worried her to the core at this point all she wanted was to make sure of his safety as something constantly felt off. The guests came in one by one for the wedding ceremony but there was no sign of the groom.

It was getting unbearable for her to remain confined. Ignoring her father's request to stay inside she went outside in hope to check whether or not her lover was approaching but once again she was greeted with emptiness. Her eyes swell up with tears forming on both corners allowing her body to slowly hit the surface as she convinced herself that her lover will never come. The worst was yet to happen and before she could make any movement the ground beneath her feet started shaking and a shoji door opened consuming her into the darkness.

It was just the start of her miserable life under the demon's control.

"So you are finally awake", a sudden voice came echoing into her eyes as she slowly opened her eyes after regaining her consciousness. She moved her hands upwards in order to ease the headache only to find her hands tied up with shackles, a chilling sensation of overwhelming fear filled her entire senses as she remembered what happened prior.

"Where am I? Why am I chained?" Who are you?" she demanded furiously at the mysterious figure infront her which was now advancing at her direction from the dark corner of the dimly litted room.

"You are quite an impatient one?" The man gripped her chin roughly as her eyes protruded out with bewilderment.

"Can't even remember your daily customer?" A wicked smile curved across his countenance.

"K..Kibutsuji san" she parted her lips. Tears forming in her eyes once again. This made muzan even more irritated as he tightened his grip on her chin. (Y/n) whimpered with pain crying out loud.

"Your shouting won't help dear nobody apart from me can hear you scream" he said bluntly with his cold apathetic voice.

"Why?" (Y/n) lowered her head down holding his hand with her delicate ones trying her best to get a hold of him.

"Pardon?" Muzan inquired as he stared at your quivering form with his souless eyes there was no empathy in them or whatsoever although he felt pity. He cannot deny the fact that he was indeed attracted to her that's the reason why he put her into so much hassles.

"Where is my lover?" She asked sternly with her voice shaking a bit.

"Oh" muzan responded his hand still holding her chin tightly. This made her even more anxious she was unaware of the power he might possess and definitely she didn't had any intentions to risk her life.

"Why can't you humans move on and accept circumstances given before you?" it startled her as she cannot process what he meant.

"I don't.. u..understand" she said.

"Then you have to learn to accept me as your partner" muzan replied coldly (y/n) sat there looking at him with disbelief her heart and soul belonged to someone else and for a long time they have been together it's absolutely impossible to change the reality she was accustomed with just because some maniac wants to make her his partner.

"I can never" she murmured with disgust hinted in her voice. "I love him" throwing daggers in his direction not ready to submit her futile attempts of protest should pissed the demon lord even more but to her surprise she saw him smiling menacingly and in the corner of her eyes she saw the figure of her debilitate lover.

"Start from his fingers" muzan ordered one of his subordinate as they began chopping one of his finger making him scream in pain.

"No! please don't hurt him" trying to break free from the shackles she was tied with realizing it was fruitless she fell on the demon's knee begging with all the strength left within her in a last desperate attempt.

"You left me with no other choice, dear" he explained playing his sick games of manipulation on her. This was exactly what he needed to break her mind and she cannot help but rely on him pleading for his forgiveness feeding on his massive ego providing him ultimate satisfaction to witness the quivering frame of his darling clinging onto his knee in pure submission.

"Please I will do anything you say" she requested shaking like crazy.

"Anything?" Muzan questioned raising his eyebrow

"Yes" she replied without any hesitation.

"Be mine"

She already knew that he wanted this and she readily obliged in order to save her beloved, sacrificing her own life. Her only purpose was now to satisfy the demon lord, he was successful until the very end and it won't take long to make her completely his.

[script-nef]

Fluff alphabets | Hinata Shouyou

Others: Kageyama, Oikawa,  Tsukishima

Category: fluff

Affection: How affectionate is he? How does he show affection?

Hinata constantly wants to be holding you in any way available to him. He shows his love for you through countless kisses, hugs, texts, phone calls—just about anything.

He’s not afraid to proclaim his affection for you on live TV or in interviews but that subsequently means a lot of articles are written about you. Every single one of them is about how much of a doting and loving boyfriend is.

Baby: Does he want to start a family?

Yes.

Children between you and him? Of course he wants them! He’ll wish for them to be carbon copies of you because you’re the best person he knows and by his logic, that means his children will also be the best!

Thanks to his experience with Natsu, he’s skilled in taking care of babies and showers them in endless love. Would spend all of his spare time with you and the kids and every other parent will be envious of you.

Cuddles: Does he like cuddling? How often does he like hugging?

Hinata leaps at any chance to be around you.

He’ll use the most trivial excuse or reason to hug you: you look down, I’m hungry, your hair was flying around and you looked pretty, I wanted to check if your shampoo changed and whatnot.

You pointed out that since you’re going out with him, he doesn’t really need an excuse you cuddle with you. That made a lightbulb spark and now he just attacks you with surprise hugs whenever he wants.

Date: What is a typical date?

Exploring hidden corners of the city. This boy cannot sit still and requires physical activities or he’s going to go insane with the amount of energy that stockpiles.

He would scour them online or get some recommendations from friends when visiting their cities, or even his fans in the form of comments. It would mainly be cafés/restaurants or trinket shops so he can buy you loads of presents.

Experience: How much has he dated before? How does that reflect in this one?

He was an adult when he met you and he went out once or twice before, but it didn’t go for very long. This relationship with you is the longest yet!

He learnt bits and pieces from his previous relationships like how to treat your significant other and what not to do when dating, but it’s mostly useless since he’s somehow very intuitive in this area.

Fight: Do you fight often with him? How does it usually end?

Fights are incredibly rare, nearly none each year. The fact that you’re both so understanding and kind plays a factor. 

He also hates fighting with you because he believes every moment with the person he loves needs to be happy, even though that’s unrealistic.

He’s incredibly stubborn and will argue with you if he thinks he’s right. The fight can drag out for days but you eventually reconcile through talking and spend the rest of the day cuddling.

Gentle: How does he treat you?

Hinata isn’t gentle, despite popular beliefs. He’s driven by his emotions way too much and won’t realise when he’s putting physical pressure on you. Of course, he’ll back off once you say it.

Once he realises you’ve been saying that a lot, he’ll try to restrain himself but it doesn’t work. The second he sees you it’s just “!!!! [Name]!!!” and all control is chucked out the window.

Hand: Does he like holding your hand? How often?

When walking down the street or relaxing in the house, his hand is always glued onto yours. He uses it to tug and maneuver you around crowds and streets to arrive at your destination quickly.

Sometimes he draws little characters or writes with his thumb on your hand and asks what he wrote. It’s always things like simplified versions of your favourite anime characters or “I love you”

Impression: What was your first impression of him?

“Who is this absolute sunshine and how can I love him?”

Hinata tried to help you find your way after you were lost but he’s directionally challenged as well so… In conclusion, you spent around an hour walking aimlessly around the town. In that time, you somehow fell for him and asked for his phone number first. 

Even though it was obvious that he was as lost as you, he did his best to calm you down and led the way with unearned confidence which stole your heart.

Jealousy: Does he get jealous easily? What sets him off?

This boy cannot feel jealousy. At least in the romance area.

His heart is too wide and pure for any ugly emotions to rear their head in. If someone is constantly around you he’ll think “[Name] is so popular! I’m so happy everyone knows how cool they are!” and that’s it.

He’ll get kind of pouty if you say Kageyama is cool in front of him though. Hinata knows Kags is incomparable in volleyball skills so it’ll set his competitive fire even stronger.

Kiss: Is he good at kissing? When does he kiss you?

He likes innocent pecks all over your face whenever the mood strikes him. He doesn’t kiss deeper than that voluntarily. Sure, he’ll do it once you say it but not by himself.

He presses longer ones to your lips when he’s absolutely elated and cannot express his emotions in any other way. 

Love: Who said “I love you” first? And when does he say it?

Hinata said it first with such ease and energy. Like it was something obvious and common.

It was as he was leaving for his morning jog and you called after him to take a jacket. He kissed you on your forehead and yelled “I love you!” as he was slipping out of the door. It left you dumbstruck and frozen from your spot until you melted with a blush.

It was, of course, returned when he came back with tons of kisses and hugs.

Memory: What’s his favourite memory with you?

The moment he saw you after winning his first match with you watching from the crowd. His head snapped to you as soon as the last point for the match was won and you had the most dazzling smile on. 

It just filled him with such joy and happiness to see that you took the time out of your busy schedule to watch him. His heart basically just exploded when you hugged him afterwards and gushed about how amazing he was flying around.

You came to plenty of his matches after that, but nothing ever beat that rush of exhilaration he felt from the first time.

Nickname: Does he give you a nickname? Do you have one for him?

You have plenty for him: sunshine, love, tangerine, cutie, Shou, my light and more cheesy ones in private. He once asked you why you don’t call him those ones in public in front of all his friends and teammates while listing them off which basically killed you.

Once he realised that it was slightly embarrassing, he exclaimed that he loves hearing the nicknames in your voice and you should never be embarrassed. But he still understands if you don’t want to call him that.

His nicknames include shortening your name or adding “-chan” to the end of it.

Open: How open is he about his feelings?

So open. Hinata will shout how much he loves you from rooftops and mountain peaks if he feels like it. He never lets you doubt his love for you and constantly reassures you

The first time he mentioned you by “I’ll be back in time for dinner, [Name]-chan!” before running to the changing room made everyone double-take. After that, even when he received a scolding, he always says “I was able to perform better because [Name]-chan was cheering for me!” or something like that

PDA: Is he fine with PDA? How far can he go?

King of PDA right here, does not give a damn where you are. If you’re next to him and he wants to hug or kiss you? Then you’re going to receive them affections, there is no escape.

A private room of a restaurant, in the middle of a busy shopping centre, in a couple’s seat in the cinemas, nothing matters to him other than you.

Quirk: Habits or something he does which is unexpected?

Likes hiking in the afternoon. He started it first because the rough terrain would be a good workout for his leg muscles and help him in volleyball, but eventually does it whenever he’s feeling restless or bored. He’s super thankful that Japan is like, 70% mountains and tries to visit a new one every week.

Begs you to tag along because the scenery is wonderful and he wants to share it with you. Hinata wasn’t lying when he said the sunset was beautiful, the view is stunning.

Sometimes brings a picnic basket whenever you’re feeling a little down and feeds you a mountain worth of food while watching the sky change into red and orange.

Relax: What activities do you do with him to relax?

Playing video games together, often competing against each other.

Hinata received a variety of popular video games from Kenma a while back and is determined to clear all of them. He spends hours and hours of free time with you, glued on the sofa with you on his lap. It doesn’t really last though, since you wiggle and squirm so much during Mario Kart.

It usually starts in the afternoon until dinner, just hours and light competitiveness and fun. The loser usually has to clean up after the meal is finished.

Support: How supportive is he of your dreams? What do you do for him?

He’s like a serotonin boost that even being around him makes you feel more energised and motivated. Whenever you feel wiped out or exhausted, he’s right there to say positive things and encourage you to finish the assignment which is causing a massive migraine.

When you’re done, he’ll have some chocolate and warm tea to help you relax.

You pack him cute lunch boxes if you have time in the morning and put sticky notes of loving messages in it. His teammates get jealous when they see him giggling and texting you a response. 

But the best way to support him is to attend his matches and cheer for him.

Talk: What does he like talking about?

He loves talking to you about the experiences he had overseas. How different and free Brazil is, how lively and funny everyone is. Or the new players he met and trained with when he has practice matches against them.

He loves it when you talk about your childhood and all the things you went through before meeting him. There’s always something new to find out about you and he won’t stop until he knows every single detail about your life.

Umbrella: What’s his favourite weather/season?

Hinata’s favourite weather reflects his personality: a warm summer’s day. Not one of those unbearably hot and humid ones but one where the cool wind blows and the sun is pleasantly warm on your skin. 

He uses these days to go on a walk around the neighbourhood with you, mostly ending with a stroll around the park. Of course, he slathers on sunscreen on the both of you because safety first and he really needs to get rid of the remaining suncream from Brazil.

Vaunt: Does he like showing you off?

Hell yes, this boy flaunts you to everyone who’s willing to listen. Why wouldn’t he? You’re literally the best person he knows!

Not obnoxiously like “[Name]-chan is better than anyone else!” but more of a fanboy style. For instance: “I went to one of their presentations secretly and they were so eloquent and perfect, I can’t believe they’re dating me” like he isn’t one of the most sought after athletes in the entire country.

It’s to the point where his fans can recite facts about you and it leaves you confused.

“Shouyou, why does the public know all these things about me?” “Ummm…”

World: Where does he take you for vacation?

Definitely Brazil, specifically the same city he spent two years in. When he arrives, he’ll try to introduce you to all of his friends and acquaintances with the biggest smile.

He acts as a tour guide and shows you all the hidden favourite spots he found in his time there. Also teaches you some Portuguese and learns Spanish with you.

Of course, playing beach volleyball takes up a large amount of time over there. You joined in a couple of times even though your skills were considerably lacking than the other side.

It was mainly just for fun and experience (and ogling at Hinata ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

X-ray: What happens when you’re injured or sick?

This is painful—because of his memory of The Fever, he always tries to keep his body in tip-top shape. So your concerns of him overworking himself or falling ill get reduced to a minimum.

If you’re the one that’s sick, then he’s by your bed 24/7, ready to do anything you want or need. He calls up Iwaizumi and his teammates for advice and writes everything down, following it to a T.

Yearn: How much does he miss/pine for you when apart?

So damn much. This boy misses you the moment he steps into the plane and texts you until the flight attendant tells him to put the device away. It’s mostly heart emojis and selfies so he can look at them while flying.

It becomes a ritual that no matter what, no matter the difference in time, you have to call each other at least 3 times a day. It doesn’t have to be meal times but it has to be at least 3 times.

If not, he’ll be sad for the rest of the day and sulk the entire time he’s off the court. Eventually, his teammates all call you to please help this moody wing spiker.

ZZZ: Does he have sleeping habits?

Fidgets and moves around a lot in his sleep. Always wakes up in a different position and he’s so confused and disorientated. 

This kind of makes it hard for you since you sleep together so the solution was: buy a king-sized bed. It was like a whole new experience.

It works well until he once pushed you off. Your yelp woke him up and he apologised so much and nearly cried even though you were laughing and said it was okay.

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary -Chapter 42

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @thunderintheshadows​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @valkyrie-of-the-light​

Despite the suffocating humidity and sweltering heat, it's a relief to get out of the hotel. She'd spent the last three days confined within the four walls of their room, trying desperately to keep her mind off of not only what happened at McMann's house, but the terrifying consequences that followed. Plagued by incessant worry about the safety and well being of the kids,  waiting on pins and needless for the random and all to brief updates that Ovi would send throughout the day.  And now the torturous minutes and hours before the IRA would get back to them with their decision.  The fates of the McMann kids...and their own...in the hands of the very kind of people that Tyler went into battle against while on the job.  It's a nauseating turn of events; having to put all of your faith and hope into individuals known world wide for the brutal acts.  To trust them to save lives instead of ending them.

Tanis sticks tight to her side. It was the one and only stipulation that she'd had to agree to for a short couple hours of freedom; the other woman could not leave her side, and under no circumstances was she to wander off on her own. Not even if it was only a couple feet away. There was no telling who was a threat now;  with McMann and the Buckmans working together, their reach is incredibly long and they have endless resources and people at their disposal.  If she wanted to get outside and attempt to function as a 'normal' member of society, she had to have protection at all times.  Tanis is pleasant enough;  talkative,  articulate,  educated on a wide variety of subjects that helps keep conversation lively and fresh. Tall and athletically built; broad shoulders and fit, well toned muscles, her blond hair cropped short to her head in a stylish and modern pixie, dazzling green eyes that are constantly taking in the people and the action around them.   She doesn't carry herself with an unabashed cockiness that most Marines do;  her posture is loose instead of rigid,  she smiles often,  she doesn't puff out of her chest in an attempt to intimate anyone that so as much looks in their direction. To the untrained eyed, they'd appear as if they were just two friends out for a day on the town; chatting and laughing, bags of shopping on their arms. But Esme knew the truth. Which the woman is really there.  And she knows that there's gun tucked into a holster on Tanis' right hip, hidden under the baggy white t-shirt she sports. This is a job. Nothing more, nothing less.  Once it's over, they'll each go back to their separate lives. It's the way things have to be; you don't fraternize with the client. All ties cut the moment the job is finished and money has exchanged hands. It's easier that way. No bonds formed, no feelings hurt.

Ovi is an exception to the rule.    He'd needed further protection; he wasn't safe in Mumbai, not with his father in prison, Saju dead, and Asif's associates looking for payback.  And most importantly, he'd needed a chance at a real life. He'd needed to know what it was like to part of a family. To have people that respect and love him. For far too long he'd gone through life being treated like a thing instead of a person, and it had been a difficult adjustment for him. Going from having 'handlers' and paid help to having parent figures and siblings. It had been a struggle for him to adapt; their rules were incredibly lax compared to those that had been placed upon him in Mumbai, but they were still things that were expected of him.  And he'd struggled to go from the rigidly strict to the rather relaxed and casual.  It wasn't just a chance of scenery, but an entirely different change of pace and a way of life.  No private schools, no chauffeurs taking him place to place. He had set curfew but was allowed to have friends; he could go to the mall, take in a movie, hang out a park. He no longer had people hovering over him and dictating his every move. And as much as he'd hated that life...his old life, it had still been hard to not be controlled in such fashion.

It had been good to talk to him that morning. He'd sounded tired, but he was happy. Secured in his ability to keep himself, Chloe and the kids safe. There was no evidence of fear or uncertainty in his voice. The trust that Tyler had placed him had been an enormous ego boost; he was confident, resolved, with no worries about who may be following them or may try to get to the kids. He would handle it. Those were his exact words. Whatever...whoever...came their way, he wasn't the least bit afraid.  A stark change from the slightly immature and self conscious kid that they'd left behind almost two weeks ago.  And it was the first time since Tyler had told her that he'd put Ovi in charge of their kids that she'd felt truly confident in his decision.

“Forgive me for asking this,” Tanis says, as they wander through the main shopping district; sipping smoothies and chatting like old friends. “And I hope I don't come off to personal or sounding rude.”

“I live with five males, I have been asked an obscene amount of personal questions and pretty much heard every possible rude comment under the sun in the past five and a half years,” Esme grins. “I have two four year old's that are obsessed with fart jokes and think the word 'ass' is the funniest thing they've ever heard. Do you know what that's like? That much 'boy' in one house? I mean, my husband has enough testosterone for half the planet, I swear. Never mind adding in his three mini me's and a teenage boy.”

Tanis laughs. “My parents had all girls. I'm the last of five. I thought that was hell to grow up in.”

“Oh don't get me wrong, I would take five girls over one boy any day. My girl has been a walk in the park compared to raising boys. I mean, she's full of attitude and piss and vinegar, but she's been so easy. She picked up everything so quick and she's been always so eager to learn new things. And she's obsessed with cleanliness and tidiness. But the boys? Oh my god. How do they get pee everywhere? Are they not paying attention? Are they waving it around like firehouse? How does it get on the floor, the baseboards and the wall but none in the actual toilet? Ughhh...” she shudders.  “...that's why I won't clean the bathrooms anymore. That's a man's job. So gross.”

“Sounds like there's never a dull moment at your place,” Tanis grins.

“It's a zoo. I'm not even joking. It's mess and it's noise and it's utter chaos. But at the same time, it's awesome. It's our mess and our noise and our chaos. You get used to it. And you miss it when it's gone. This last week and a half has been hell. Not being under the same roof as them. Not being able to hug them and kiss them and tuck them in at night. I complain about the craziness, but I miss it. As weird as that sounds.”

“That doesn't sound weird to me. That sounds pretty normal, actually. This will all be over. This whole nightmare. And we'll get you back home. Where you belong.”

Esme gives a smile of appreciation.  The words have a nice sentiment behind them, but there's still so much that has be done. So much risk involved.  And she tries to push those thoughts out of her mind.  Not wanting to think about what could go wrong, but what will go right. “What did you want to ask me?” she inquires, as she sips at the smoothie in her hand. It's about all she can stomach. If that. Nothing has been staying down despite the anti nausea (and baby safe) medication a local pharmacist had recommended her. It's always been bad; fatigue and all day sickness (never mind just the morning), but it's never been this bad.

“How the hell did you ever wind up with Mark? Because he's a bit of a...”

“Douche canoe?”

“Well I was going to say prick, but douche canoe works too.  I mean, he's my boss and I have to respect while on the clock and in his presence, but what the fuck is his issue? He's a total ass wipe.”

“And this is him being friendly and diplomatic if you can believe that. This is his good and charming side. Wait until you get to meet the rest of him. It's a real treat. To say the least.”

“How did you ever end up with him? You seem so...I don't know...normal...”

Esme laughs. “Don't ever let Tyler hear you say. He can tell you that I am far from normal.”

“Mark is just so...Mark...and you're just so...you.  You're just both so different from one another.  He treats everyone like shit and you seem so welcoming and friendly with people. I find it hard to believe that someone like you would even get mixed up with such a complete and utter tool.”

“He talked a good game when I first met him.  I hadn't been in the Corps for very long. I didn't have much life experience under my belt. And suddenly this older guy showing interest in me. He was mature, charming, he had a very authoritative way about him that was strangely appealing. He was my commanding officer, so there was that whole rush you get when you know you're going against the rules and there will be hell to pay if you get caught.  I was young. Inexperienced. And stupid. So very, very stupid.”

“Is it true he let a stewardess give him a blow job in the plane bathroom on the way back from your honeymoon?”

“Sadly, yes. That's one hundred percent true. I should have just dumped his ass when that happened. Got the marriage annulled. But he swore he'd never do anything like that again and it was just a 'one off' and he got all that kind of behaviour out of his system.  So I believed him. Stupid little naive girl that I was.”

“So it got worse instead of better?”

'Not right away. It got better. And it stayed that way for about eight months and then he just went off the deep end. He'd gotten back from Iraq and was having a hard time with some of the things he saw and heard over there. Which, don't get me wrong. I get.  That shit fucks with your head. There's even things now that still bother me. Images and sounds and smells that come back out of nowhere. But he went right off the reservation.  It's like something inside him snapped and he couldn't hold back his true self any longer.  I should have left right away...the first time he ever hit me...but...” she shrugs.

“People think it's so easy.  That it's as simple as just packing your things and walking out. That it's not. Nothing is ever that simple.”

“You've been through it too?”

Tanis nods. “My ex husband was the exact same. He was a narcissist. And a sociopath. A violent one. I stayed for three years. I lost everything because of him. My friends, my family. They didn't understand why I didn't just walk away. I tried explaining to them that it wasn't that easy, but they didn't get it.”

“People don't if they haven't lived through it themselves,” Esme reasons. “I used to be one of those people. Who used to judge the women for not leaving. Then I became one  of those women. It woke me the hell up right quick, let me tell you.  I put up with his shit for two and a half years.  And in a way, I'm still putting up with that. That crap never leaves you. It stays in the back of your mind. All the horrible things they've said. All the times they've told you that weren't good enough or that no one could ever possibly love you because of how messed up you are, or that someone could never love you the way they do.  You think you've gotten over it, but you haven't. It's always there.”

“And then when you do meet someone and are happy, all those come out and work against you. And you listen to them. And you believe them.”

“Exactly. It's a vicious circle. It's a horrible existence. And it takes someone really strong and really patient to help you deal with all of that.”

“You found that though,” Tanis smile. “Someone like that. You're one of the lucky ones.”

“I have put that man through hell. Or my brain has, I should say. I have snapped and said some horrible, horrible shit to him.  I think about some of the things I've said to him and I want to crawl into a hole and die. Tyler has his issues, don't get me wrong.  He is far from perfect.  But he sure as hell doesn't deserve the things I've said to him. But he sticks around. Shockingly.”

“Because he knows that's not you saying the things you say. He knows it's what you've been through. And he loves you. Anyone can see that. It really burns Mark's ass you know,” Tanis chuckles. “Seeing the two of you together. The one the two of you look at one another.  He can not handle it.”

“That's because he's such a miserable fuck, he expects everyone else to be too.  Can you believe my own mother stayed friends with him? Knowing what he'd put me through? How messed up is that? She loves Mark but hates Tyler because he's the one took me away from my home and forced me stay in Australia and blah blah blah.  That is her sole reasoning for not liking him. Yet Mark is a total sleaze ball who gets off on hitting women and she loves him. “

“She sounds just as messed up as Mark.”

“You think? She's a real piece of work. And now Nik is hooked with him? Of all people that I thought would be smarter than that, it's her. She is far from being a stupid woman. Or a weak one.  Yet she chooses to be with him? Ughhh...” Esme shudders dramatically.  “...if that isn't enough to make me puke, I don't know what is. And believe me, I don't need any extra reasons to puke. Do you have kids?”

“No. But I haven't completely ruled them out. I'm in a good place with my life right now. I've met a pretty good guy. We're taking things slow, but...”

“Zak, right?”

“How'd you...?”

“It's all in the way he looks at you. The way he watches you when you talk. That little smile he has when you walk into the room. It must be a guy thing.  Maybe they're better at expressing it with their faces than they are with their words. Tyler gets so embarrassed if someone brings up 'the look'.  And he tries denying its mere existence, but it's there. Whether he wants to admit it or not. He doesn't like to talk about those things.  But let me just say this, he's not always a hard ass. He's got a soft side to him, and a huge heart. But whatever you do, do not tell him I told you that. He will deny, deny, deny and I'll never hear the end of it.”

“I know Mark's my boss and I should probably watch the things I say out of respect for him, but...”

“No. Speak your mind, girl.  You probably don't have anything to say about him that I haven't said a million times myself.”

“...you really traded up the second time around. Like you went from here...” she holds her hand just below her waist “....to here...” she raises her hand way above her head.  “...and I totally didn't mean that to represent the difference in size, but I guess it's appropriate.  You went from like grade F beef to like Triple grade A.”

“The difference is night and day. In every respect.  And that's what makes thing even more screwed up. Because your brain believed everything some asshole said, so you have no idea how to even let someone love you.  You're so used to being treated like garbage that when a decent guy comes along, you don't know how to deal with him.  You expect the worst, get the best ,and then you don't know what to do with it.”

“So you get scared and push it away,” Tanis concludes.

“Exactly. And believe me, I pushed long and hard for a while. And he refused to budge.  He just tried even harder.  And believe me, there were many times he could have told me to go fuck myself and taken off and he would have had every right to do it. But he never did.  He's a stubborn shit, let me tell you.  Which is probably why he didn't die that day on the bridge in Dhaka. Everything has be on Tyler's terms. It's your way or his way. There is no in between. He has to be in control. I guess he figured he hadn't lost all control yet so why give up?”

Tanis smiles. “Something tells me you had something to do with it to. I mean, you stuck around for a guy you barely knew.”

“Well the sex was amazing and I wasn't ready to let that go yet. I wasn't finished using him for his body yet.”

The other woman laughs at that.

“In all honesty,  I did what I dd because I wanted to. Because it felt like the right thing to do. He was in that mess because of me. Well Ovi, too. But if he hadn't have kept us around, he wouldn't have gotten out of there and not ended up as fucked up as he was. Sometimes I wonder if he regrets it. That he did decide to keep us around. If he wishes he'd listened to Nik and just left us in the street.  I mean, he wouldn't have all the issues that he has now if he had have ditched us.”

“I have a feeling that he never even considered the ditching you guys part.”

“He says he didn't. That it was never an option. But I couldn't really blame him if he thought about it at least once. It's all about survival right? Self preservation? Sometimes the only person you can worry and care about is yourself.”

“It must have been hard. The aftermath. Of Dhaka.”

“It was...” she fidgets with the straw in her drink,  pulling it up, pushing it back down,  trying to find the appropriate words to describe exactly what it had been like. Without completely losing her grip on her own emotions. She's normally a sensitive person to begin with, but now the hormones have decided to cause havoc within her body and even the smallest of dirty looks from someone have her ready to burst into tears.  Just that morning she'd had a meltdown because the mint of the hotel toothpaste was 'too strong'.

“...hard...” she says.  “It was hard. To see someone like that. All the tubes and all the wires and bandages and stitches and what not. He was a mess. He should not have survived that. Even the doctors told me when they took him to surgery when we first got there that they didn't think he'd even get off the table alive.  And he almost didn't. He coded three times. They said if there had been fourth, they wouldn't even have bothered to bring him back. That the lack of oxygen would have led to a catastrophic brain injury.”

It's painful to relive it. Even more painful than those moments on the bridge when she'd fought to keep him alive.  The agonizingly long wait in the OR family are; that bloody and torn tactical vest clutched tightly to her chest. The one that she'd nonsensically tried to scrub clean in one of the public bathrooms because he 'might need it again'. The doom and the gloom that had been in the surgeon's voice and in all the voices of the doctors and specialists that had come and gone through his room in the ICU.  Not one of them believed he would make it. The blood loss was too severe. The damage too great.  He'd never be the man he was before. Maybe not even a fraction of it. And the more they tried to prepare her to say goodbye, the tighter she held on.

“And I know that sounds weird because I'd just met him and there's no way I should have ever felt that strongly about him so soon...” she continues. “...but I can't explain it.  I can't explain what I felt. I just know I felt it. And I wasn't ready to let him go. We had too much to look forward to. Plans we made. We were legitimately going to work at things and see where we really stood in each others lives. If there was more to it than those five days in Dhaka. But we never got the chance. It didn't go the way we wanted it to.”

“But things worked out,” Tanis reasons.  “In the long run.  It might have been what you had planned, but they still worked out. Look how far you guys have come. From that day until now.”

“Yeah, he's still trying to solve everyone else's problems and getting hurt doing it.”

“I don't mean in that way. As in the job.  He made it out of that hospital. Even when all logic and even science said he shouldn't. He survived that and now look.  You're married, you've got amazing kids, one on the way...” she gives a smile, and pats Esme on the tummy. “...it's a great life. Even if doesn't seem that way sometimes.”

“Yeah. It is actually,” she agrees, and then smiles as she lays her own hand on her stomach. It will be a while before her body starts to visibly change. She'd been nearly twenty weeks before even the slightest bit of a bump began to show with Millie.  The twins had shown earlier, obviously. And Declan had just been enormous right from the start.  He was easily going to be over six feet tall by the time he hit his teen years, and probably built like a linebacker.

“Last one?” Tanis asked, nodding down at Esme's stomach.

“Oh hell yeah. This is it. I thought we were done at three. At least we agreed to stop at three. After the twins, we were done. That was it. Declan was a complete and total shock. We were actually using birth control and that kid still made his appearance. So if anything was meant to be, it's him.  And then we decided why not one more , and well,  it happened a lot sooner than we thought it would, but it happened.”

“I like to think things like this happen for a reason,” Tanis says. “Everything says that your Declan shouldn't be here. In the same way that doctors and science and all rational logic say hat Tyler shouldn't be here. But they both are.”

“When you put it that way, maybe I should play the lottery. With those kinds of odds running in my house,”  Esme muses.  “I know how lucky I am. That Tyler even survived. I saw how bad he was; the amount of blood he lost.  He honestly probably should have never made it off the bridge alive.   And sometimes I think it take it for granted that he did.  That I take him for granted.  I'm just so used to him being around that I sometimes forget how close it came to him not being around.”

“I think we're all guilty of that. Taking the people in our lives with granted.  Their presence for granted.”

“Makes me feel like a shitty human when I think about it. All the times where he's annoyed the shit out of me and wish he would go away and leave me alone. What if I wished those things and it happened? What if the last words I ever said to him were awful? If I actually let him walk out the door without telling him I love him. Imagine having to spend the rest of your life with that kind of guilt?”

“It's why we can't let a day go by without telling people how we feel about them,” Tanis says.  “We have to live each day with someone as if it's the last we'll ever spend with them”

****

She's startled to see him when she arrives back at the hotel; there are still two hours before his meeting with McMann and he hadn't planned on returning until after it was over.   So it's a nice surprise...and a huge relief...to see him there lounging in the middle of the middle. Leaning back against the headboard with those long legs stretched out in front of him, his hand clasped at the back of his neck, his eyes closed.   He doesn't respond to the sound of the door opening and closing; not a single muscle twitching throughout his body or in his face. Chest slowly rising and falling with each steady breath he takes. And she ditches her shopping bags and purse in the closet by the door and kicks off her shoes, bare feet against the soft carpet as she wanders further into the room.  The mattress dipping slightly as she climbs onto it,  shuffling on her knees towards him and then climbing into his lap, a knee on either side of him, arms around his torso and head resting on his shoulder.  She closes her own eyes; he's warm and soothing, his body hard and strong, his familiar scent still intoxicating after all these years.. And when she sighs against him he finally moves; turning his face towards hers and pressing a kiss to her forehead, both arms wrapping around her.

“Hi,” she says, voice muffled against the side of his neck.

'Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I'm staying in this room too,” he playfully reminds her.

“You weren't supposed to be back until later.”

“Well I came back early.”

“Why?”

“Because I missed you and wanted to see you.”

He can feel her smile against his throat.  “That's a very good reason,” she declares, a places a kiss to the scar that mars his neck; the one that will forever serve as a reminder to just how close he'd come to ceasing to exist.

“The best reason,” he says, his palm moving in slow, smooth circles in the middle of her back. “Did you eat something?”  He can't help himself; his protective nature is coming out in full force. It's bad enough when it's just her he's worrying about and trying to keep safe, but now there's a baby inside of her and he has twice as much to lose.

“A little bit. What your spawn will let me keep me down.”

“When we get home and we get you into a doctor you can go on that medicine you were on the last time. It helped, yeah? You didn't puke that much with Declan.”

“It was a life saver,” she confirms.  “You smell good.”

“You wouldn't have said that a half an hour ago, trust me.”

“Even on your worst days you don't smell that bad. I kind of like how you smell. Even on your stinky days.”

“You smell good too...” he turns his face towards her, nose against her temple.   “...strawberries?”

“Your favourite.”

“Yeah...” he grins.  “...they are.”

She relaxes against him; the curves of her body soft and supple against firm muscle.  She keeps her eyes closed; unable to look at that scar for too long. Normally it doesn't bother her; it serves as a daily reminder that he is still alive and she is lucky to have him.  But today it hurts; it cuts deep and vicious and she can't bear it.  

“Where were you when you called?” she asks. “Your cell reception sucked.”

“That's why I hung up and sent you a text message instead.”

“Where were you?”

“Just had a team meeting.  With Yaz, Mark, and his guys.  In an industrial park about ten minutes from town.  We didn't want to take the chance that the wrong people saw us all together.”

“Makes sense.”

“Did Mark call you?”

She hears the tension in his voice, feels the way his muscles tighten, how that vein in the side of his throat begins to pulsate. “No. Why? Should he have called?”

“I thought maybe he would. To rat on me.  We sort of got into a thing.”

“Yeah?” she runs her fingernails along his hair line at the nape of his neck. “Did you finally beat his ass?”

“Not as much as I would have liked to, no. I think I broke his nose though.”

“Well considering you could have broken his neck, a broken nose is pretty tame. What did you get into it about?”

“What do you think?”

“Awww baby....”  she pushes her hand through his hair; letting the longer strands on top slip between her fingers. “...were you defending my honour?  My knight in slightly tarnished armour.”

“I said some things I probably shouldn't have said. But I fucking snapped and it all just came out.  He's just so fucking ignorant and smug and everyone thinks he's this great guy. Which makes me hate him even more. So I lost it. Said some shit I shouldn't have said in front of other people. About you and him.”

“I'm sure whatever you said, he had it coming. So...”

“It wasn't my place to say those things. About you.  I should have just kept my fucking mouth shut. But he just pissed me so bad and...”

“Tyler...” she pulls back to look at him, holding his face in her hands. “...I don't care what you said. It's things that should have been said a long time ago, I'm sure. It's probably things he needed to hear. And if you just so happened to punch him in the face while saying those things...”

“It was an elbow, actually.”

“I'm not going to be upset at you for sticking up for me.  Everything I told you about him...about all the things he did...it was all true. So I don't mind those words being out in the open now.  Maybe now that someone has finally brought them up and holding him accountable for his shit, he'll straighten himself out. You know he's seeing Nik right?”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“It doesn't bother you?”

“I think she can do a hell of a lot better.”

“You don't think it's weird that my ex is doing whatever with your ex?”

“She is not my ex.”

“Well maybe not an ex girlfriend, but she's an ex something.”

“Putting it that way means I have a lot of exes out there.”

“You dirty boy,” she winks at him. “No wonder you know how to do things you do. You have lot of practice under your belt. All those different women in all those different cities. Do you have a score sheet somewhere?”

“It's not that many.  But hey, a man has needs, so...” he shrugs.

“I guess you don't like studying alone that much after all,” she teases, and he gives a scowl and then wraps one arm around waist, lifts her into his chest and then dumps her onto her back in the middle of the bed.  “Is this where you punish me?” she inquires, as he kneels between her thighs and leans over her, a hand on either side of her head, outstretched arms bearing his weight.  “Is there where I get in trouble for being a smart ass?”

Tyler shakes his head, then places a chaste kiss to her lips before sliding down the bed; fingertips gentle as he pulls up the bottom of her t-shirt, pushes down the waistband of her shorts and then presses his lips to her stomach. Where their baby...his baby...is safe and secure. And it's a moment that is so pure and so beautiful...a moment of vulnerability from such a big, strong, brave man...that it brings tears to her eyes.

“Baby...” she reaches down to push his hair out of his eyes.  “...are you okay?”

He nods.

“You don't seem...I don't know...you.”

“I'm fine,” he assures her, giving her that that half frown, half smile that reveals that he is in fact, not fine at all.  And his hands are on her hips as he rests his forehead against her stomach.

“Tyler...” she tugs at his hair, forcing him to look up at her.  “...what's going on? And don't say nothing. Because I can tell there's something happening inside that brain of yours.”

He attempts another smile. This one a little brighter and reassuring. “You know how I get. Right before shit's about to go down.”

“No. This isn't that.  You don't act like this. You're quiet and sullen and broody when you're going into a job. This is different. You're different.”

“I love you,” he says.  “So much. I need you to know that.”

“Tyler...” she frowns. “...what is going on?”

“Say it,” he pleads. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I love you too. You know I do. Tell me what's wrong. I can tell something is wrong.”

“I just wanted you to know that. That I love you. You know, just in case.”

“Don't talk like that.  Please. I don't want to hear you talk like that.”

“There's something I need to do. Something I can't tell you about. It's better that you don't know. I need you to trust me.  That what I'm going to do, I'm doing for you. And the baby.  For our kids.  I don't want you to ask me about it.  Because I can't tell you. It's for your own good. And for mine.”

“Tyler...what...?”

“Just trust me, okay? I need you to trust me. That this is the way things have to be done. I wouldn't do it unless it needed to be done.  Just know that it's for you and my kids.”

“You're scaring me. What's going on?”

“I can't tell you. I'm sorry. I want to tell you. But I can't. I'm so sorry, Esme.”

She see the tears that well in his eyes, hears the emotion that  causes his voice to crack.  “You're going to be okay, right? At least tell me you're going to be okay.”

“I'll be okay,” he promises, pressing one last kiss to her stomach before moving up the bed, once more kneeling between her thighs as he takes her face her hands and kisses her. Long and soft. Heart breakingly sweet.  “I'll be okay.”

[sope-and-shine]

Christmas Special: Day 6

-> Pairing: Hoseok x Reader -> Teacher AU! // Fluff -> Word Count: 3.4k -> Summary: You and Hoseok are hallway neighbors and flirt constantly outside of your classrooms everyday. You’re students are honestly tired of seeing you both beat around the bush. That’s why this years pep rally will be one to remember. ->Warnings: None.

“Alright, everyone! Let’s go over the plans for the rest of the time we have together!” You call out, grabbing the attention of your students. “With your midterm next week, I will not be putting any pressure of having homework until we all come back from break.” Your students cheer and you take that as the go ahead to grab the papers on your desk. “However, I do have a study guide that you can complete, and anyone who takes the initiative can use it when we take our test next week.” 

“Are you serious?” Haechan asks, his eyes wide with anticipation.

“Very serious. Consider this an early Christmas present.” You say, flashing a smile.

Jeongguk and the corner of the room seems to be elated over the news, so elated he can barely form a real sentence, “I’m not going to fail...I’m not going to fail!”

“You have to do the study guide correctly to not fail.” Jiin reminds him, stopping the rambling boy in his tracks only so he could stare blankly ahead with wide eyes. You should probably send him to the nurse for that.

“He has to do it in the first place.” Jae laughs next to him. He’s amused until he hears Wonpil in front of him, “You’re one to talk.”

Jisoo sighs in relief, “This will be the easiest grade of my life.”

High school is a place many people don’t imagine returning to after they leave. The cold hallways, the judgemental stares, the looming fear of not knowing what to do with the rest of your life. Of course, there are students that plan to be teachers, but most want kids that are either younger or way younger than a bunch of rowdy and hormonal teenagers that would rather be anywhere else learning so many different things. 

That was how you started anyways. 

You planned on getting your teaching degree in English to work with elementary schoolers between the ages of 5-10. You of course had the credentials to teach older students, but high schoolers were never in your final picture. When you were interviewing with the board, they had originally offered you the elementary position like you wanted, but they had asked if you would cut a deal with their - at the time - current high school English teacher who’d been facing illness. You had agreed, but it was only supposed to be a temporary position until they figured out what to do next. The only thing is, as you spent more and more time with the students and got to know and enjoy them, you couldn’t even imagine leaving them.

Taehyung raises his hand, “Miss. (L/n)! Can we bring in food next week if all we’re going to do is study?” 

“Of course you’d be thinking about food.” Lisa grumbles.

Yugeom holds his hand out to the girl next to him, “Wait, let’s not turn him down so fast! Can we bring in anything?”

“Miss (L/n) didn’t even agree yet!” Wendy reminds them.

“Please, Miss (L/n)?” Chenle asks.

“You can bring in food as long as there is enough to share with everyone. I’ll bring in cups and plates if you all want to handle the rest.” You agree. There was no way you could turn your students down when they were looking at you with so much hope. The bell rings around the room to end your class, your students wasting no time to pack their things. “Food next week, okay?”

Jeno rushes through the door with Jaemin, “For once I’m actually excited about spirit week.” 

“Jisoo, are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Lisa asks, already planning how she, Jennie, and Rose would split the work amongst the four of them.

“I’m bringing in nuggets!” Jae announces, running out of the room and cutting off the dazed Jeongguk being led by Jimin and Taehyung.

Despite the chaos they brought with them, there was no denying how charming they all could be. This specific class was in middle school when you joined the school staff, and this was their second year of high school with you as their English teacher. You hated to admit it, but they were definitely your favorite class of the day. They were a nice mix of responsible and absolute chaos with no inbetween. But you didn’t mind as much as you’d thought you would before you started. Kids like them were what made you stay. It didn’t help that the Korean Lit teacher across the hall was a sight for sore eyes.

You follow the group to the door, bidding them one last goodbye. Across the hall from you, the Korean Literature teacher, Jung Hoseok, is doing the same with his class of students. He’s wearing fitted, light grey dress pants with black belt, a plain black sweater tucked into the front,  and black dress shoes with short black socks. He was always dressed well when he came in for work, and you had to thank whoever created this man for giving him a taste in fashion. His dark brown hair is styled, slicked back on the right and his bangs framing the left side. He looks just as good as he does every other day you see him, and you can’t help but let your stare linger just a little longer than it should.

“Well, you still look as lovely as ever even after 4 classes!” His voice pulls you out of your trance, and your brought back to the dazzling grin of the man you couldn’t stop dreaming about. He’s leaning back against his door now, hands in his pockets as you both wait for your next round of students to come from their previous class. “I trust your day hasn’t felt too long, Miss (L/n)?”

“They never do when you’re across the hall, Mr. Jung.” You flirt back playfully. You catch the pink hair coming around the corner and turn your attention to your student,  “Good afternoon, Rose.”

“Afternoon.” She smiles.

“You know,” You turn back to Hoseok as he begins, “I’ve been thinking about starting study sessions for next semester to prep for finals. Would you be interested in helping me out?” 

You sigh, “I’ll think about it, but I do have to work it around my club schedules.” 

“Yeah, of course! Please take your hat off, Mr. Kim.” Matthew removes the hat from his head and Hoseok gives him a polite nod of appreciation before he returns to you, “Will you be offering anything for next week’s pep rally if the students hit their goal? I personally have agreed to dye my hair cherry red this year.”

“But the orange looked so good last year!” You tease. Last years pep rally was great despite the penalty you face, but the bright orange hair that he was stuck with for months was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Apparently Hoseok didn’t feel that way, “The orange was a disaster and you know it.”

“I’m letting Hyuna decide for me this year. Last year, I could only think of dressing up in that ridiculous costume and dancing to popular dances.” No matter what they gave you this year, nothing would be as terrible as the inflatable fat suit your were in.

“Hey, I thought you did a great job! So great, that I think we should get some coffee later, if you’re up for it?” He asks, an eyebrow raised. His question for coffee wasn’t new, but he rarely ever meant it. Even if he did, the bell answered him before you could. He sighs, “That’s the bell. I’ll see your beautiful face in an hour, Miss (L/n).”

“I guess that means I’ll be seeing you as well.” You bid him goodbye and close your classroom door to begin your class, seeing all of your students staring at you with bored expressions. Teachers would find that normal if this class of students wasn’t you’re second loudest of the day. “What?”

“Are you and Mr. Jung dating yet?” Jennie asks, cutting right to the point.

“Mr. Jung and I are just coworkers. Nothing more, Lisa.” You protest. It’s not that you didn’t want to be more than friends, but Hoseok was strictly just friends with you.

“But he’s so into you!” Hongseok argues. Mark next to him nods in agreement, “Don’t be blind to his love, Miss (L/n)!”

“He tells you you’re beautiful everyday, I can’t even get Hyojong to have my back in gym class.” Hyuna admits. Said blonde boy takes a break from drinking the banana milk he brought to class to shrug, “It’s a dog eat dog world, babe. I can’t help you if I’m out of the game.”

Your students continue their rave, throwing more and more arguments about ‘how much Mr. Jung likes you!’ and ‘You obviously love him too!’ They kept going and going, until you’d had enough of their comments.“Even if Mr. Jung and I had a romantic relationship, our personal lives should be none of your concerns. What you should concern yourselves with is pulling out the homework I gave you yesterday.”

Their groans of frustration but compliance sets you back on track, letting you move on from this conversation. Hopefully for the rest of your life.

----

Outside the school walls, in a nearby park covered in white snow, a group of teenagers sit under a gazebo. All had agreed to meet there Saturday morning when they were sure no one would catch them. All were dressed in their warmest clothes, and some had even brought something to write on just in case. 

Taehyung huddles as close to Jimin as he can possibly get, “Why did we have to do this outside? The library is just as good a place to talk about this.”

“Because all of us are way too loud to do this in the library.” Jennie reminds him, wrapped in a blanket with Lisa.

“Besides, Miss (L/n) spends her Saturday mornings at the library with Mr. Kim - the math teacher - doing their grading.” Lucas says, sitting in between Haechan and Jisung. How he knew that information? Nobody knew. But nobody would question it if it were helpful.

Chenle pipes up, untucking his scarf from around his mouth, “Are we sure we’re right about her and Mr. Jung? What if we have this all wrong?”

Hyuna shakes her head, confident in her people reading abilities, “We don’t, okay? I know for a fact that we have this right.” 

“So, what do we do?” Wonpil asks, leaning against the wall of the gazebo, “We can’t just ask them to go on a date together.”

“Technically, we can.” Jimin says.

Jae sighs, “Okay, yeah, but I don’t see that working for us if Mr. Jung can’t get it to work for himself.” 

“Honestly, if I were Miss. (L/n), then I probably would brush him off too. He tries just a little too hard when it comes to her.” Rose shrugs.

Johnny chuckles, “Have you seen Miss (L/n)? I’d try hard too.”

“Gross.” Lisa scoffs.

Wendy stands up, “People! Let’s think about this! What is the best way to get them together for the holiday?” 

“Miss (L/n) is having me choose her punishment for next Friday. What if we get Mr. Jung involved?” Hyuna asks, ready to rearrange everything they had planned. 

Jaemin shakes his head, “Mr. Jung already has a punishment.”

Jisung nudges his side, “But he wants that punishment. Let’s plan something that will ensure they both get together.”

“Okay, but what?” None of the teens knew exactly what they could do or how it could work. How could they possibly get their teacher together?

“I think I have an idea…” Jeongguk pulls out his phone and places it against his ear, waiting for an answer.

“Who are you calling?” Hyojong asks.

Jeongguk smiles, “Someone that I know can help us out with this. The only person who can get this done.”

----

It’s the next week, well into the Holiday Spirit week the students had planned. You’re students have been doing wonderful at their review, and you could only hope that they passed their midterms tomorrow. The teachers lounge was a breath of fresh air after the long day you’ve had. But no more kids now, just papers to grade and hand back at the beginning of the New Year. Everyone in the room seemed to have the same agenda. Namjoon was sat at the corner table with Yoongi and Taeil, eating the cookies Seokjin brought from his last class of the day while still decked in their holiday themed attire. Amber was for some reason chilling on the floor with Eric surrounded by essay after essay from her history class, her reindeer antlers long forgotten somewhere on the floor. Taeyong, Doyoung, and Seokjin were busy cleaning up the counter discussing amongst each other, each one of them having coordinated their costumes as three different Elsa’s from Frozen. Everyone was in their own groove and just relaxing after such a long week.

The teachers lounge door bursts open, Jung Hoseok appearing with his signature smile and temporary white chalk to go with his snowman theme today, “Guess who has the results for our demise?!” The other teachers groan in annoyance, most choosing to ignore their fate while some actually give the excited man attention, “The truck just came to pick up all the donated items and it looks like the students surpassed their goal by a longshot.”

“You’re joking.” Jin turns so fast you could see coffee fly out of his cup. He was so shell shocked that he didn’t even feel it hit his hand, “I should never have agreed to kiss a pig. Where do I find a pig?!”

“You think you have it bad? I agreed to dress up as a girl!” Namjoon groans. Yoongi nods next to him, already accepting his fate but still not ready for it to be real yet, “Yeah, no I remember, we made the pact together.”

“Well, Eric, it looks like we’re going to be having that watermelon eating rematch after all.” Amber says, nudging his side. Both of them looked way too excited for what was supposed to be a punishment. “I won in college, Amber, I will win again!”

She laughs, “Yeah, and I’ll watch you throw it up again in the trash can outside of the gymnasium.”

“Can we focus on the fact that we let Haechan choose our punishments?” Taeil shouts. He turns to the two men beside a sulking Seokjin and places a hand to his chest, “Men, this may be our final year of life.”

Hoseok takes a seat next to you, letting himself relax into the comfort of the couch. He sighs, “Anyways, did you think about my offer? I really need an answer before the New Year.”

“Which offer? The study group or the coffee?” You ask, continuing with your grading.

“Both.” He smiles, his cute dimples popping out for the first time today. 

“Study group? Yes. Coffee? Not a chance.” You smile. Hoseok’s hand moves to his chest with feigned hurt, “Ah, you’re playing with my heart, Miss (L/n).”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Jung.” You tease.

-----

At this point in the day, the Pep Rally was already in full swing. Sports teams were prepped and ready to battle against each other, students in the bleachers rowdy and ready for the day to be over, and the schools band playing loud and proud above it all. Student council members run around the gym directing the flow of events for the day, making sure students in the bleachers and on the court listened as they should.

Everyone had taken their punishments like champs, especially Namjoon and Yoongi who still wore their outfits. Taeil, Taeyong, and Doyoung all let their faces get pied, pies courtesy of Seokjin’s morning class. But hey, he had to kiss an actual pig, so why not? Then there was Hoseok who got his hair lightened by his sister when he got home the other day, allowing his students to make his hair a bright fire engine red instead of the usual brown. Amber and Eric definitely threw up in the trash cans outside of the gym, even though neither one made it through half of the watermelon.

Then there was you. Your students definitely wanted you to give  show, only they prepared a Santa costume this time around. The embarrassment was already filling your bones, but there was nothing else you could do at this point. This is what you promised them, so you might as well give it your all. And you can honestly say that you wrecked that floor with the different dances they put on for you, one student even throwing money onto the floor where you were dancing. You’re just relieved when the music stops so you can leave and get back into your holiday sweater.

“Not so fast, Miss (L/n)! There’s one more part to your punishment~ No Santa is good without a Mrs. Claus, so why don’t we get one for you?” Hyuna waves over towards a massive amount of students where the still slightly damp, red haired Hoseok appears in a red velvet dress, a white frilly apron, and a white bonnet, “I’d love to present to you, Mrs. Claus!”

Watching Jung Hoseok strut onto the floor wearing a dress was something else. Especially since the last thing you expected from him was for him to suddenly start break dancing in his get up. But you were no loser, especially not to your supposed Mrs Claus. 

And that’s how you found yourself in a dance battle with a man in a dress while you wore a heavy fat suit covered in velvet. You were in no way trained to be a dancer like Hoseok had once been, but you were not about to lose to him like this. That was when the students decided to strike. All at once the music playing stopped and a slower, more romantic song started. You were extremely confused, especially when students started bringing over flowers and a mic to Hoseok while he removed his get up to reveal the dress pants and dress shirt underneath of it. 

He walked towards you with the most sincere look you’d ever seen on him, “I know this is really sudden, but you can thank our students for this mess. Miss (L/n), I would be overjoyed if you would let me take you on a date.”

And just like that everything blew up all at once. Students were screaming, your friends were pumped and cheering you on from afar, and Hoseok was looking at you with such hope that you were honestly too stunned to respond. You knew what you wanted to say, but you couldn’t find yourself saying anything at all. He’d always joked about wanting to go on a date, but you didn’t think he actually meant it! He was ungodly handsome and intelligent, and you were...you.

Your students were not shy about what they want either, “We as your students want you to be happy, and we know that you both like each other no matter how much you may deny it. Please consider accepting Mr. Jung’s offer.”

What were you supposed to do, say no? Not anymore.

You take the mic from his hands and flash him the brightest smile, “I’d love to.”

----

“You invited Mr. Jung here?!” Rose asks.

“He’s our best option!” Jeongguk argues, “If anyone is going to get her to say yes, it’ll be Mr. Jung with a grand gesture. She won’t be able to say no!”

“Okay, but if she does say no, then we’ve just embarrassed the hell out of him!” Jae yells. He takes a look towards Hoseok and bows quickly, “Sorry, sir.”

“Don’t worry about it Jae.” He holds up a hand and takes a well needed breath, “I know this is weird, but Jeongguk said you guys wanted to help. This would be a big help to me.”

“Do you think she’ll say yes?” Renjun asks.

Hoseok sighs, running a hand through his hair, “I’d love to think she’ll say yes. But I know that I’ll need help from all of you to get it done. I hope you’re all up for the challenge.”

“Anything for love!” Jimin says. The others agree with him, adding in their own comments here and there.

Despite them wanting to meddle into his life, he couldn’t find it in him to be angry with them when all they wanted was to get the two of you together for the holiday in the name of love. How could he ever be angry with them? This was the Christmas present he never knew he wanted, nor did he realize he needed.

But it turned out to be the best one of all.

[smooch-that-bot]

Howdy!! May I request MTMTE Megatron crushing on a human poet/singer? Tysm I'm the big gay for him

{We’re all big gays for this big man}

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

You’re the new liason from Earth. Sent to the Lost Light to restore relations between humans and cybertronians. As you enter the room a smaller red and white bot rushes over and the first to greet you; asking a whirlwind of questions before Ultra Magnus pulls him away to let you breath. Everyone has questions about the status of Earth wondering how humanitys fared after all those years dealing with the war on earth. Everyone except Megatron. He stands in the back and watches everyone crowd around you. When your eyes meet he quickly looks away before leaving the room. 

Eventually the excitement dies down and bots slowly trickle out of the room. Soon it’s only you and the bot you now know as Swerve. He looks like he might explode from not being to talk. “Hey..um it’s Swerve,right?” He nods and puffs up his chest. 

“Swerve’s the name,serving drinks is my game! Oh,I’m also a metallurgist.” You chuckle at his outburst and before you know it the two of you are walking back to Swerve’s bar chatting up a storm. “So Y/n what do you get up to when you’re not… ya know restoring peace?” Swerve stands behind the counter polishing glasses and making sure the energon is in stock. You sit on the edge of the counter;kicking your legs back and forth while thinking. 

“Oh well I- I sing and write poetry. Kinda dorky right?” You hear clinking and turn around to see Swerve fumbling with a glass before putting it down and staring at you.

“What! No that’s awesome! Ya know you should...oh primus! You should perform at my bar.” Swerve smiles widely. He’s almost vibrating in excitement. You bite your lip and fidget with your clothes “Swerve I don’t-” “Please Y/n this place is in desperate need of entertainment.” Swerve tries to pull out the puppy dog eyes or at least you think that’s what he’s trying to do. “Oh fine how could I say no.” You grin at Swerve as he pumps his fist in the air. 

“I’ll see you later tonight superstar!” Swerve sends you a wink as you hop off the counter and exit the bar. You playfully roll your eyes and wave goodbye.

“See you Swerve. Try not to talk some poor bots audials off.” 

You wander off towards where Ultra Magnus said your room would be but the ship is so large and the hallways begin to blend together. Before you know it you’re lost and tired. Your feet throb with every step you take and your stomach rumbles loudly every so often. “Ughhh why does this ship have to be so huge, who designed this thing?” As you complain there’s the thump of someone walking up ahead. A spark of joy flares up inside of you and you run toward the sound. You round the corner and run smack into the back of some bots peds. “I’m so sorry I got excited and uh guess I didn’t have time to stop.” You stand back and look up at the bot you ran into. 

Megatron’s red optics stare back “It’s quite alright...erm excuse me but I don’t know your name.” He almost looks nervous to speak to you. He constantly shifts his eyes and hesitates to get closer to you. “I’m Y/n. I saw you in the back, you didn’t say hi or anything.” Megatron crinkles his eyes and sighs. 

“I apologize Y/n. I didn’t think you’d want me to say anything.” 

“Ahhh because of you and your history with Earth.” 

“I’ve done many terrible things to your planet and brought unnecessary conflict to innocent people.” He clenches his fists. Trying to shift further away from your gaze. 

“We’ve been able to rebuild. The wars on Earth are now our past. Many people have moved beyond that; we look to the future now. All that happened millions of years ago; people just want to move on.” Your lips curl into a gentle smile. You look at Megatron,his mouth is agape slightly but he quickly shuts it. 

“I see.” There’s a long pause between the two of you. With only the slight hum of fans to provide alleviation from the silence. “Well enjoy the rest of your night.”He takes a final glance at you before beginning to walk away.

“Megatron wait I- well I’m lost. I was trying to find my room.” He pauses barely turning his head to face you and nods for you to follow him. 

As you trail him you find yourself having to jog to keep up with his long strides. At some point Megatron takes notice. He kneels before you and lowers his hand.

“It’s easier this way.” You hear the hum of fans starting up as you gingerly step into his palm. You shake as you try to keep your balance while Megatron rises and starts walking.  “Thank you, this is easier.” Megatron grunts in acknowledgement.  

Soon after you come to a stop in front of a large door. You look down and see a smaller door was built into the existing door. Megatron carefully lowers his hand down allowing you to hop off. You turn to him and pat his hand “Thanks again. You should stop by Swerve’s bar I’ll be performing poetry later.” Megatron’s optics widen slightly before he regains his composure,

“I’ll see if I can make it.” With a curt nod he turns on his peds and disappears down the hallway.

You check your watch and realize there’s only a few hours before you have to be at Swerve’s. You change into more casual clothing and grab your poetry book. You quickly rehearse what you wanted to perform then skid out the door in a hurry. From where your room is it’s a straight shot to the bar and you arrive with just enough time to talk to Swerve.

“Hey superstar, ready to dazzle the crowd?” Swerve greets with a fist bump then leans in to whisper to you,“I’d been practicing my fist bump.” He grins as you groan at his utter ridiculousness.

“Great job Swerve really knocked it outta the park.” Swerve ushers you to the stage and helps you onto a stool then places a microphone in front of you. He scurries back to the bar counter and gives you a thumbs up.

You look out to the crowd and many glowing optics look back. You fumble with your poetry book a bit before opening to a bookmarked page. You take a deep breath closing your eyes and letting go of the nerves that rack your body. When you open your eyes there in the back you see Megatron and for whatever reason your body relaxes and you shoot him a smile. 

“This poem is called Nothing Gold Can Stay.” You see Megatron’s interest peak as he shifts his body to face the stage and leans in to listen. “Nature’s first green is gold, her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; but only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief,so dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.” Swerve claps loudly and soon others follow in suit. Your eyes meet with Megatron's he smiles and claps then gets up heading out of the bar. Offering a glance over his shoulder. You climb down from the stool and rush out of the bar, careful to dodge bar patrons peds. When you get out of the crowded bar you find Megatron staring out a nearby window watching the passing stars. 

“That was a lovely poem. Perhaps we could write something together.” He softly glances at you from the corner of his optics. You turn to the window a smile growing on your face.

“I think I’d like that.”

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

(Okay that was long here’s some headcanons: 

- Megatron is really supportive of your songs and poetry. You both like to just sit and write together it’s very calming

- Eventually after your relationship becomes a more public thing on the ship he would sit up front to watch you perform every time. If you ever got extremely nervous he would offer you gentle words and reassure you that you’d do spectacular.

- If any bot dared to insult your art Megs would almost flip his shit. His voice gets oddly calm but his aura radiates danger. He tells the bot off with a gentle voice but with an iron grip on their shoulder.

- He likes when you sing to him especially after a long and stressful day. He places you on his chest near his spark so you lay can relax as well. And he just lets you hum and sing a few tunes before powering down into a blissful rest.

- Before you got together he really thought he was being slick by writing romantic poems and having you read them

- You somehow started sending poems back and forth to each other through data pads. Everytime you’d send him a new poem Megs would feel hopeful and happy which he even though he didn’t think he could still feel that way anymore.

- Through his poems you got to know him better and he trusted you enough to even show you his darkest works and his poems about his grief and his esteem. 

- Basically y’all are the cool poetry nerds of the ship 

[laughingpinecone]

Yuletide letter!

I am laughingpineapple on AO3 

Likes: worldbuilding, slice of life (doubly so if the event the fic focuses on is made up but canon-specific), missing moments, 5+1 and similar formats, bonding and emotional support/intimacy, physical intimacy, lingering touches, loyalty, casefic, surrealism, magical realism, established relationships, future fic, hurt/comfort or just comfort from the ample canon hurt, throwing characters into non-canon environments, banter, functional relationships between dysfunctional individuals, unexplained mysteries, bittersweet moods, journal/epistolary fic, dreams and memories and identities, outsider POV, UST, exploration of secondary bits of canon, leaning on the uniqueness of the canon setting/mood, found families, characters reuniting after a long and/or harrowing time, friends-to-lovers, road trips, maps, mutual pining, cuddling, wintry moods, the feeling of flannel and other fabrics, ridiculous concepts played straight, sensory details, places being haunted, people being haunted, the mystery of the woods, small hopes in bleak worlds, electricity, places that don’t quite add up, mismatched memories, caves and deep places, distant city lights at night

Any tense, any pov, any rating, plotty, not plotty, IF, canon divergences, non-mundane AUs (space opera! high fantasy! new weird also), deep lore, unrequested characters popping up - please do go wild with the & combos!

Blanket crossover prompt with Untitled Goose Game: set that goose loose anywhere and ruin anyone’s day. Tariq and select Twin Peaks characters who are not Albert (Margaret, Laura...) may hope to tame and befriend the goose; anyone else better get wrecked. Capitalism may also get wrecked while Kentucky Route Zero characters popcorn.gif nearby

DNW: non-canonical rape, non-canonical children, canon retellings, unrequested ships (I listed all the ships I like for each fandom. Outside of those, I’d prefer if other canon characters weren’t shipped, unless they’re like, canon engaged/married)

Dark Souls 1: Solaire of Astora

I’m only familiar with the first game! It’s probably relevant to mention that I think that linking the fire is kind of a dumbass move, Gwyn is a jerk, Kaathe has his own agenda and there’s no winning move in this world, or at least no obvious one. And amidst all this nonsense, Solaire just shines, pure of heart and dumb of ass like the best of ‘em. I love his kindness in this cruelest of worlds and I love the sad edge he’s got even earlier on when he admits to being seen as weird.

I would enjoy a bittersweet ending for him but I realize both of his endings are deeply entrenched in his themes so it’s hard to make him steer clear of either of those. If you can figure out how to make him not link the Flame or survive the ordeal, I’m all ears! I like a sense of purpose being the thing that can stave off hollowing, and I like characters helping other characters finding that sense of purpose within themselves. Focus on scenery always welcome, and if you want to make up a location, that’s great too!

I’d be super happy with a story set during Solaire’s time in Lordran that simply doesn’t mention his endings, anyway. Maybe he’s the one who helps someone else while his own tragedy keeps looming on the horizon. Striking up friendships in the face of a crapsack world! Meeting people through Lordran’s temporal/dimensional fuckery, where it’s possible to cross the path of warriors who have been gone for ages… could Solaire meet either or both Catarina knights (there’s so much great art about sun bro and onion bro but where’s the fic?), or do the grumpy grump&ray of sunshine routine with Logan, or meet Artorias or even Gwyn before he linked the Flame - or himself? What if he met Kaathe?

Ships: none really? Solaire/Chosen Undead but I don’t really like to read about customizable protagonists in fic so I’d rather not get fic featuring the CU. I’m all about the & character combos here.

Ghost Trick: Cabanela, Jowd

I love Cabanela being fierce and dazzling bright and determined and loyal to the very end, dancing to his own rhythm, so sure of himself and of his ideas that he doesn’t even need to prove to anyone that he’s right. Too sure of the wrong idea, once, and everything crashed and burned. And I love Jowd being the immovable object to Cabanela’s unstoppable force, a suicidal trainwreck of guilt with the gallows humor to show for it, and also incredibly smart (both jerks figured out Sissel’s powers better than Sissel did, that’s... something) and athletic and with an unsuspected talent for stealth.

I am very interested in various characters finding about the erased timeline, but not getting their memories back, and having to live with being told about what they did but never remembering it. Touch-starved Jowd in the new timeline is a surefire hit (or maybe Cabanela if he’s the one who came back and kept the memories of the old timeline). Touchy-feely Cabanela as kind of his baseline with the people he likes.  All what-ifs welcome:what if they managed an acceptable happy ending but didn’t reset the timeline, what if Alma’s ghost stuck around… I’m also wondering about either of them ending up undead via Temsik shard - how would they take these developments (I’m assuming better than Yomiel did but the bar is admittedly low), did Cabanela do it on purpose for whatever sensible-if-you-are-Cabanela reason, what does it change in their relationship, what are the practical pros and cons of the situation here. UFO adventures with Pigeon Man! Lynne teaming up with either of them against the other! Sissel death-averting action if either/both of them die or just regular cat action! Spy stuff! Daring rescues! My forever prompt of Jowd being the one who gets a chance to prove his loyalty to Cabanela for once. Dancing.

Please no Yomiel. Nothing against the guy I’m just getting an overdose of him through RPing.

Ships: Alma/Cabanela/Jowd and all sides thereof, but when it splits the canon couple I only like it when the missing spouse is dead or otherwise unavailable, hopefully with a reset on the horizon. If you want to go for a Cabanela&Alma or Cabanela/Alma who are strongly motivated by a dead or jailed Jowd, I’m good with him not actively appearing in the fic. Alma/Jowd & Cabanela is excellent in all scenarios. I’m good with explicitly non-romantic takes on Jowd&Cabs but please keep their bond strong, and please no conflicting ship for Cabanela. Lynne/Memry!

Kentucky Route Zero: Any (Lula Chamberlain, Joseph Wheattree, Donald kentuckyroutezero, Weaver Màrquez)

(if enough of us request it, will some Murphy corollary guarantee that Act V will come out between now and reveals just to mess with the Yuletide schedule? If it does, I’ll be playing it immediately and probably add a few thoughts and prompts here for kicks, at the end of this section, after a spoiler warning. Obviously feel free to stick to canon up to Un Pueblo De Nada)

I’m all for exploration of any of the game’s themes and for including any staples from adjacent genres - wanna go full-on American Gothic? Dip into surrealism? Take a leaf from Twin Peaks with tulpa / split narratives to explore the characters’ issues? I can’t think of any specific AUs for the disaster trio + disaster soloist here, but I generally love AUs so if you want to sidestep the inconvenience of an incomplete canon that way, be my guest! Or of course there’s Xanadu at the height of its glory, an infinite what-ifs generator. Was Weaver ever part of it, what was this digital Weaver up to? A Xanadu narrative would be great! A good fit for IF, too? I’d love to hear about any new spot along the Zero or the Echo river, or an expansion of some place that’s only mentioned by Will in HATATE or only gets a few paragraphs of text. Lula getting ideas for a new installation, or an article talking about her work? Donald listening to Static between stations somehow (Donald being constantly high as a kite as per this)? Joseph who went back to the surface finds himself near an entrance to the Zero somewhere? A collection of Weaver-isms? Feel free to bring in anyone else from any part of canon.

Ships: “Flipping through the pages, Conway is able to gather that it's a story about three characters: Joseph, Donald, and Lula. It's something like a tragic love triangle, but much more complex. Some kind of tangled, painfully concave love polygon.” 😬 that one, as a full triad, regrettably since they don’t seem too inclined to get reunited and stay that way. If you can nudge them, good. But I’m very open to non-romantic resolutions as well, going past their messy feelings to find each other as friends after so many years maybe. For Weaver, I’m interested in all her & relationships (seriously. Weaver & Cate. Weaver & EmilyBen&Bob. Weaver & Slow Moe Crow.) but nothing shippy. Conway/Lysette, Junebug/Johnny(/Shannon?).

The Last Remnant: David Nassau, Pagus

I’m very interested in post-game exploration, and getting a clearer feeling of any of the cities and assorted places that populate this fascinating world. I like the whole party with their characterization based on battle quotes, red bubble dialogues, and even their unique stat (‘authority’ is a natural fit for David but ‘romance’ tells me something new about Sibal!) Character interaction. Bit of worldbuilding. What’s another festival they celebrate? Do they erect something else instead of the Valeria Heart? Any fun discoveries down in Siebenbur? Where the hell IS Veyriel, anyway, do they go look for it and if so what do they find out? End of an age. Old bonds.

I ache for David who fought so valiantly as a warrior and as a politician only to be slapped in the face with the unexpected loss Emma first and then Rush, right as they were ready to claim their victory and as he would have to start coming to terms with the idea that maybe without the Gae Bolg he wouldn’t die young. At least his Generals are still with him - out of them, all of whom I adore, I picked Pagus because Qsiti are cool. And Pagus in particular is the coolest (”I know that fine qsiti... That large, reticent mouth, the laugh lines around the eyes...“ he’s FINE it’s CANON!). So I’d like to see how David bounces off Pagus in particular, what their bond is like, what he thinks of whatever aspect of Qsiti culture.

Ships: postcanon David/Rush, possibly with an emphasis on Rush’s nature as a remnant? I am also fond of Pagus/Sibal/Maddox, there are more prompts for them in my #letters tag!

Pyre: Volfred Sandalwood, Tariq The Lone Minstrel

Oh the burning found family feelings, the revolutionary passion, the tension between topside social constraints (moreso for liberated exiles, thrust into heroic roles after the revolution) and the kind of freedom allowed by the Downside! I love all the themes, the solemnity, the heart of this game. I’ve been waiting for a character like Tariq all my life, a minstrel who’s otherworldly soft and just a lil bit eldritch. Volfred as well, he just hits my perfect ratio of “noble intentions” to “scheming to a fault”. Like, the percentages in his planner are pointless for gameplay since the ending just depends on the number of Nightwings sent topside at the end - so it’s just there for his characterization, he’s the sort of person who assigns percentages to people, nbd. ...for a good cause! That said, I would die for anyone in that Blackwagon+Dalbert+Celeste, so if you want to write in someone else as well, please do! (otoh if you maybe want to dunk on Brighton or Manley, I don’t like bashing but canon levels of love-to-hate-them would be fun)

Thoughts about finding oneself at the end of an age, as everything crumbles down to form something new. The titan stars. History nerd Volfred, “aye sir, I was there” Tariq. Conversations with Dalbert. Or with Sandra? Any postcanon very welcome with any combination of endings as long as the revolution was peaceful. Please do lean into the xeno headcanons if you enjoy them! Even for gen, I like to read what it’s like to be something other than human and these two are very much not human in different and intriguing ways. Or, Volfred’s zodiac sign is Cancer and Cancer is ruled by the Moon, so there’s that. I also love how they both hold the other in the highest esteem, especially on Tariq’s part since he’s the immortal Herald of the Scribes and Volfred is, all in all, a history teacher, but listen to him and you’d think the roles were inverted. I love my nonviolent canon but could anything happen to either of them that may require a rescue, and/or some good old-fashioned h/c? What’s something that could make Tariq of all people lose it? How’s life 100 years on?

For a funnier mood, picture Volfred trying to figure out how to flirt with Tariq with percentages, planners and all. He could just ask him but no, it’s convoluted plan or bust. Or, conversely, Tariq’s increasingly direct hints that he’s interested, but they’re still ‘increasingly direct’ for Tariq standards, so, not at all, undetectable even by Volfred who can get pretty damningly indirect himself.

Ships: Volfred/Tariq, Volfred/Oralech, some form of Oralech/Volfred/Tariq (more of a Volfred-centric V but I would like to be convinced of the Oralech/Tariq side of things), Celeste/Jodariel, Hedwyn/Fikani and Pamitha/Bertrude.

Twin Peaks: Albert Rosenfield

Case fic but they don’t find out jack shit, someone disappears, David Bowie was there, it’s complicated. Fragmented, shifted, mirrored identities. New Lodge spaces. The risks of staring into the void for too long. Gentle illusions. Transcendence. The moon. Static buzzing. Any title from the s3 ethereal whooshing compilation used as a prompt, actually. Twin Peaks is all about the mystery to me, the awe of mystery and unknowability and the human drive to look beyond and the risks of getting a peek, and about shared consciousness and trauma taking physical form and about the warmth of human connections in an uncaring world. Go wild with the ethereal whooshing!

I love Albert and he breaks my heart, a pacifist who ends his arc shooting his oldest remaining friend after life sucked all the passion and most of the idealism out of him. Is shooting Diane just to see Cooper come back, get her back and disappear with her again trauma enough to make him split? I’d be interested in reading about it, or any other take on his unwavering loyalty to Gordon which should maybe waver after Gordon’s admission that he’s lied to him for 25 years and the aforementioned unmitigated disaster of an ending. But I’m also very interested in his life apart from the disaster that is Blue Rose and his heartbreaking search for Cooper: did he keep in touch with Harry throughout the years, what did they talk about? Was he ever dragged along for a hike in the woods and did something weird happen there? We know he kept in touch with Diane, what did THEY talk about? Does he go on a journey of his own to find her after the ending? Does Tammy come along, do they see each other as friends other than mentor and protégé? What was Phil like as a co-boss back in the day? Did he get a small victory over Windom at some point (maybe even in the present day, given Kenneth Welsh’s recent wonderful interview where he’s adamant that Windom lives)? Does Laura ever visit him in some ghostly manner? He and Denise look like a great duo for a case and/or office shenanigans. We know from TFD that he’s a big jazz enthusiast, something about that? When does he cave in and just accept some aspects of Coop’s investigative method? Just set him loose on another unsuspecting character and I’ll be happy.

If Coop comes back (and I’d love for Coop to come back), I would like it if he came back on his own thanks to having sorted out his crap. After s3, I am not interested in stories about any other character saving Cooper. Albert’s got his wounds to lick dangit. And he’s got friends who can be by his side! ...I do love his dynamic with Coop so much, though. Sigh. I do miss that bastard. Anyway.

Ships: Albert/Coop/Harry and sides thereof, Tammy/Cynthia, Gordon/Phil, Diane/Constance, Lucy/Andy, Chet/Sam.

Canon-specific DNWs: any singular Dreamer being the ‘source’ of canon, BOB (let alone Judy) being forever defeated in the finale, Judy being an active malevolent presence in the characters’ lives, clear explanations for canonical ambiguities, ‘Odessaverse’ being the reality layer, the Fireman’s House by the Sea being the White Lodge, anything that 4 hours video says is the explanation of Twin Peaks

[ramirei]

Assertion of the Heart - preparation 10 + epilogue

Takamizawa Arisa is eager to make friends and fit into class at her junior high school. However, she doesn’t fit into the girl groups and the only person she talks to is Enomoto Kotarou who sits in the seat behind her. Though she feels close to Miura Karen, a fellow classmate who doesn’t fit in class, she was scared of being singled out by her peers. Shibasaki Ken, Kotarou’s friend, takes notice of the conflicted Arisa but – “It’s too boring to hate all the time.” What awaits Arisa as she takes a step forward in her own way!?

Find the masterlist with all the chapters here!

Please support Honeyworks by purchasing the novel here! (CDJapan is also a good alternative).

AND I AM DONE! But this isn’t over yet because next up is Mean Encounter!! If the tenses sound weird, don’t worry, they’re weird in Japanese, too. There’s a lot of point of view jumping and tense changes, so once the text changes to I/you and it’s not in quotes or italics, just remember they’re the thoughts of the narrator of that section. (i’m just gonna post this for now and hope it stays alive on tumblr)

preparation 10

 On the day of the sports tournament, the entire school changed into their gym clothes and participated in events respectively held in the gym and the schoolyard. Students were supposed to be watching the other ongoing games from the grass in the schoolyard or from the cheering stands in the gym in between their own games. However, everyone freely walked around the school since no one was actually enforcing this rule onto them.

Arisa hurried headed to the back of the gym after the 9th grader’s games ended. The person she was looking for was in the middle of washing his face at the outdoor sink.

Good, there’s no one that will get in my way! After checking that the coast was clear, Arisa stepped up to him, making sure he didn’t notice her.

Lifting his head, he realized that the towel he hung at the edge of the sink had disappeared, prompting him to look around, “Huh?”

“Setoguchi-senpai*, you dropped this.” Arisa nonchalantly held out his towel with a sweet smile.

Setoguchi Yuu, Hina’s older brother, returned her smile with a, “Oh, thank you,” and took the towel from her. He had great looks, he was smart, and, to top it off, he was also great in athletics. He was a prince with everything that a girl wanted in a guy.

“Um…?” Yuu looked at Arisa, slightly confused, after wiping his face with the towel, “Setoguchi-senpai, are you Enomoto-senpai’s boyfriend?” She asked boldly.

Yuu paused, then exclaimed, “Huh!?” in surprise. “Why… this question all of a sudden?”

“It’s because Enomoto… no, a male student in my class is worried about whether or not the two of you are secretly dating.” Arisa said, looking at Yuu with both hands clasped together.

“What, Kotarou? Why would he care about something like that?”

“Eno… it’s because he’s going through puberty. He has all kinds of complicated worries.”

“…All kinds as in?”

“That’s, well, various… so, are the two of you going out?” Arisa approached his face without hesitating, causing Yuu to bend backwards to escape her approach.

After a few seconds of silence, he averted his gaze without thinking. His cheeks were becoming slightly red, “Um, no… I don’t… think we are?”

“Really, really!? You swear to God!?” Arisa cornered Yuu to the wall, thrusting out her hands on either side of him with a thump so he wouldn’t escape.

Yuu’s expression stiffened slightly as his back pressed against the wall, “We’re just childhood friends. On second thought, why are you making me say this?”

Arisa brought a hand from the wall to her chin. Huh, I see. It doesn’t mean they’re going out… However, the elder Setoguchi was no doubt in love with Kotarou’s older sister. Moreover, so was Koyuki.

“Oh, Yuu… and Takamizawa!?” Hina yelled, noticing them after exiting the gym.

“Hina, do you know her?” Yuu looked at Hina, hanging his tower around his neck.

“Well then, Setoguchi-senpai, good luck on your next game.” Arisa said with a smile, then immediately left the scene.

“Wait a second, Takamizawa!” Hina ran after her, leaving Yuu behind, “I said wait a second! Why were you talking to my brother?” She asked, yanking the sleeve of Arisa’s jersey.

Arisa turned with a sigh, “You sure are a busy person.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Koyuki and your brother don’t belong to you. Anyone is free to go up and talk to them, aren’t they?”

“Even if you say that… you’re definitely plotting something, aren’t you!” Hina looked like she didn’t plan on releasing Arisa’s sleeve until she found out why they were talking.

Without a choice, Arisa softly sighed, “Oh, Koyuki.”

“Huh, where!?” Hina reacted immediately and searched their surroundings. Arisa quickly walked away while she did, “Takamizawa, you’re mean!”

Arisa let out a giggle, listening to Hina miffed about the fact that Koyuki was no where to be found, “Really, such a busy person.”

Koyuki, Hina, and even Kotarou. Everyone was doing their best in love. Life surely didn’t feel dull if they lived like that every day.

Surely, the world… appeared even more dazzling to them.

♦     ♦     ღ     ♦     ♦

“Heeey, Yuu.” Catching sight of Yuu, Kotarou walked up to the gym. Yuu lived in the house next door, was something like a childhood friend to his older sister and was someone he knew well.

“Kotarou…” Yuu looked at Kotarou, grabbing the towel hung around his shoulders with both hands.

Hina was supposed to be cheering for Yuu’s game. That’s why he thought he’d be able to see her if he went to the gym, but…

Kotarou walked up to Yuu, restlessly looking around them, “Did you see Hina?”

“Hina? Oh… she went off somewhere with that Takamizawa girl.”

“With Takamizawa!? She didn’t say something weird again, did she?”

For some reason, Arisa and Hina did not get along. It was apparently due to the fact that Arisa was hanging around an upperclassman by the name of Ayase Koyuki as of late with utmost persistence. Because of that, Hina was recently constantly in a foul mood. That’s why he had nothing but a bad feeling after hearing that they were together.

They aren’t fighting, right…?

Kotarou made an about-face and was about to go searching for them when Yuu called out to him, “Kotarou.”

“Hm? What?”

“Well… how should I say this… sorry.”

Kotarou looked back at him in confusion at the sudden apology. Did something happen that Yuu had to apologize to me for? He had a feeling that there were several incidents in the past that he had to apologize to Yuu for. However, he didn’t remember any of the opposite.

“For not nothing a lot of things.”

“Huh? What’re you talkin’ about?”

“If there’s ever anything you need to talk about, you can come talk to me any time.” Yuu said seriously and patted both of Kotarou’s shoulders consolingly.

I’m getting even more confused though!? Nevertheless, he felt like he was being looked at with an extremely sympathetic gaze for some reason.

“Oh, there you are. Yuu! The next game is starting?” Natsuki, Kotarou’s older sister, rushed up to them while waving.

Kotarou exclaimed a, “Ugh!” at his sister’s voice, “Natsuki!” He unconsciously made to run due to a defensive instinct that was instilled into him since he was little.

“Kotarou, what’s with your reaction? Why are you saying ‘ugh’ at seeing your older sister’s face? Why?” Natsuki, now at their side, lovingly yanked at Kotarou’s ear before he could run.

“Let me go, you ugly woman!”

“You’re so annoying, you monkey!”

“Natsuki, let it go. Weren’t you going to go see Mochita’s game? He’s going to get sulky if we don’t go and support him.”

“Huh, wait, Yuu!!” Yuu grabbed Natsuki’s arm and forcefully pulled her away.

Kotarou watched as the two returned to the gym, stunned. What the heck was that? I don’t understand what happened at all…

♦     ♦     ღ     ♦     ♦

After returning home, Arisa ate dinner, took a bath, then shut herself in her room. She quickly ran her colored pen across loose pieces of paper that were spread out onto the low table in her room.

The elder Setoguchi likes Enomoto’s older sister (?).

Enomoto’s older sister likes the elder Setoguchi (?).

Koyuki likes Enomoto’s older sister.

Setoguchi likes Koyuki.

Enomoto likes Setoguchi. **

Arisa gazed at the relationship char, resting a cheek on her hand and sighed. Kotarou and Hina, plus Koyuki, Hina’s older brother Yuu, Natsuki… It was as if they were threads that got tangled together. If she pulled at them, she had a feeling that the threads would smoothly come undone, but she also felt like they would do the opposite, instead tangling together and not come undone at all.

“Hmmmmm…” Arisa hummed, lifting her cheek from her hand, “Oh, I get it! In short, if I stick Koyuki with Enomoto’s older sister… then Setoguchi has no choice but to give up on Koyuki! Isn’t this killing two birds with one stone?” Arisa’s eyes sparkled as she hurriedly drew a new line with her colored pen.

There was no choice but to make one person unhappy. Setoguchi’s older brother was popular, so it shouldn’t be a problem for him to experience a broken heart once or twice. If he could valiantly give up just this once for his younger sister’s happiness…

“As if things would turn out that well.” She dropped her head onto the table with a thump. The colored pen she was holding rolled onto the table. Arisa turned her face to the side, glancing at the relationship chart. It didn’t seem like Yuu and Natsuki were going out yet, “But it’s not going to be easy wedging yourself in between them…” Arisa mumbled, recalling Koyuki gazing at Natsuki from a distance.

If Koyuki experienced a broken heart, then it meant that Hina still had a chance. In the unlikely event that things went well between them, then it would be Kotarou with the broken heart this time. It would be better for Hina to give up on Koyuki when she considered Kotarou. She came up with various ways to make it happen, but Hina was earnest in her own way and so was Koyuki. The solution to what would be the best thing to do if their feelings ever came to light was one she couldn’t answer.

“Ugh, seriously.” Arisa was becoming increasingly irritated and rolled onto her rug.

Why won’t things go well?

The feelings of people…

♦     ♦     ღ     ♦     ♦

Once the week began, the sky looked like it would rain for a while.

After school, Arisa headed to the entrance to find Koyuki standing stock still with an umbrella in hand. He was watching Yuu and Natsuki as they headed to the front gates. In the midst of heavy drops of rain hitting the asphalt, the two walked closely together with different colored umbrellas.

Arisa averted her eyes from Koyuki’s lonely and gloomy figure. She couldn’t even look at him.  I mean, it’s because I know. You end up being found out because you’re so obvious.

It seemed like Koyuki was always alone even in class. The only time Arisa witnessed him talking to someone was when he was with Natsuki.

The “him” who became like a ghost in class. How happy and how significant would it be for there to be someone in class that connected with him just like she did with everyone else? It would make him feel like it was okay for him to be here, too, just by her greeting him in the morning and smiling at him. That made him feel like he wasn’t a ghost, but just a normal student like everyone else. That was what Natsuki was to Koyuki.

For Arisa to ask him to give up on her…

Clutching tightly onto the handle of her umbrella, Arisa walked up to Koyuki, “Koyuki.”

Koyuki turned in the direction of her voice, “Takamizawa…”

“Are you not going to talk to her?”

“Huh?”

“To Natsuki.”

“Oh… no…” Koyuki lowered his gaze with a slight smile and did not finish his sentence.

Arisa stood next to him. They could no longer see Yuu and Natsuki now that they passed through the gates. Their surroundings became slightly clearer due to the dark sky and the nonstop rain.

Really… there’s nothing but things that won’t turn out the way we want them to…

♦     ♦     ღ     ♦     ♦

Hina, now ready to go home after she finished cleaning, was walking down the stairs looking down. She feet naturally came to a stop when she discovered Koyuki sweeping the hallways.

“Koyuki…”

“Oh!” Hina’s heart leapt when she realized Koyuki had heard her. She immediately turned away. “Wha… Setoguchi?”

How many more times… how many more times if our eyes keep meeting… surely… Her heart continued to pound thump after thump.

Hina pressed her back against the wall in the hallway, having returned all the way back to the 7th grade classrooms, and caught her breath. Her hands burned and they were sweating. She tightly gripped her hands.

“Setoguchi…?” A voice called out uncertainly.

Hina jumped in surprise. She turned to find Koyuki looking at her with a worried expression, a broom still in his hands.

See…

It’s because when our eyes meet, you smile so kindly at me.

I’ll end up realizing.

Realizing my own feelings –

♦     ♦     ღ     ♦     ♦

When Arisa left their classroom after school, she found Kotarou stopped in the middle of the hallway. “…Enomoto?” She called out, approaching him. Kotarou didn’t reply.

He was watching Koyuki and Hina. Koyuki was consoling Hina, who looked on the verge of tears, while flustered. Hina was laughing at Koyuki’s reaction. She looked happy, her cheeks blushed red.

Arisa quietly peeked at Kotarou’s profile. She had imagined that he would’ve been irritated, but his expression was surprisingly calm. “Are you fine with that?”

“With what?”

“Those two.”

Hina’s expression had already become the face of someone who had completely realized her own feelings.

“It’s… fine, isn’t it?” Kotarou stated. He turned to return to their classroom.

Arisa glanced at Hina and Koyuki, letting out a small sigh.

As expected, this was… going nowhere.

People’s feelings were something that others couldn’t do anything about. They don’t even go the way the person themselves want them to. Surely, even when they knew there was no hope.

Humans can’t live without falling in love.

♦     ♦     ღ     ♦     ♦

Spring – March, the graduation ceremony.

Kotarou went up to the rooftop alone. Once he was there, he leaned against the fence and gazed at the people below. He saw the 9th graders coming out the front gates with their parents after finishing their graduation. There were also students receiving bouquets while surrounded by their underclassmen.

“Is it okay for you to be up here? Isn’t your sister graduating?” Arisa said from behind as she approached him.

He turned to her, “I guess.”

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating? Like going out to eat.”

“Oh… She said that she was going somewhere with Yuu’s family.”

“You’re not going?” She leaned against the fence next to him.

“It’s too much trouble.” Kotarou said, linking his hands together behind his head.

The sky was clear. White clouds were slowly crawling across the sky. The wind was still slightly chilly, but it was mild.

“…What about Setoguchi?”

“Hina has club activities. Thought up until a second ago she was bawling.”

“Oh, because Koyuki is graduating, too… Are you staying back at school ‘cause you’re worried about her? Enomoto, you’re honest, or more like, admirable?” She teased.

Kotarou grimaced, “Shut up.”

“And yet, I wonder why you haven’t entered Setoguchi’s sight at all.” Even though he’s this dedicated.

“It’s fine. Because, before long, I’ll turn into an awesome guy that will make her say that she has no one else in her sights but me!” Kotarou declared full of confidence, but his expression soon became bashful.

“Well… isn’t that fine, too?” Arisa brought her fluttering hair to her face to hide her spreading smile.

It almost makes me envy him because he only sees one person.

“Besides, there’s a phrase called ‘having nothing left to lose’.”

“Go on, keep saying that.”

They laughed, bumping their fists together.

The debt from that time still remained unpaid in her heart. That’s why… She wished upon the clear, blue sky spreading endlessly until the ends of the earth.

May this person’s feelings one day reach her…

epilogue

During the weekend, Arisa was at the shopping mall in front of the station. She had been looking forward to it since that morning and she was slightly embarrassed that she had put so much energy into dressing up.

There was already a long line in the ventilated central event hall. Arisa stood around the middle of the line and was marching small steps in place unable to calm down.

“Please stand in order of the number on your ticket!” An official loudly shouted.

What do I do… what do I do? I’m actually here… Her heart kept rapidly beating ever since she arrived in line.

Three days ago, she found out that Narumi Sena was holding a handshake event as part of a magazine PR event. Arisa wanted to see her even for a few moments despite only ever having seen her on TV and had lined up in front of the automatic doors of the shopping mall before opening hours to obtain a numbered ticket. She intended to come early, but a line had already formed in front of the doors; that only spoke of how amazingly popular Sena was.

It was her first time going to someone’s handshake event. It was also her first time wanting to meet someone this strongly before. She had completely become a fan of Sena ever since seeing her on TV. Without fail, she would buy the magazines that Sena appeared in and she would always set the TV to record if she heard that Sena would be in a morning show so that she wouldn’t miss it. She even bought the lip cream Sena endorsed.

The more Arisa learned about Sena, the more she thought, “Wow, this person is amazing.” She admired her and began to want to follow her. Those lined up here likely thought the same way.

She heard someone say, “Sena is adorable, right!” from around her.

In her head, she agreed, “She is!” If it were possible, she almost wanted to say, “Include me in the conversation, too!”

It would probably be okay for her to talk to Sena for a little bit once it was her turn, right? Or would it be better for her to move aside immediately after shaking her hand because of the people waiting in line behind her? It was her first time at an event like this, so she didn’t know the protocol. She restlessly peeked up at the front of the line.

“My… my hands are getting sweaty!” Arisa realized with a start and hurriedly wiped her hands on her clothes.

As she did so, it was rapidly getting closer to her turn. The girls in front of her in line happily told Sena, “I buy your magazines!” while shaking her hand.

Ok, it should be okay for me to talk to her for a little bit! She quietly clenched her fists in triumph.

A voice called out, “Next person in line.”

“Yes!” She squeaked, her voice raising sharply due to her nerves.

Sena sat in front of her, smiling amicably as she talked with an official.

It’s the real persoooooooooon!

She looked just like she did on TV. Her face was small, her eyes were large and bright, and both her hair and skin were shiny and smooth. Her entire being was adorable. No matter where she looked, Sena was adorable from head to toe.

Wait, no, I have to say something. Something… but what!? Arisa began to panic, making it even more difficult for her words to come out. She even forgot to hold her hand out.

Sena smiled at Arisa, who stood frozen, and held out her own hand, “Thank you for coming here today.”

Arisa broke out of her trance at Sena’s words and frantically shook her hand. Her hand was shaking slightly, “T-Thank you very much!” It took all she had just to say that one phrase and, without properly meeting Sena in the eye, she briskly walked away from the table.

Ahhhh, seriously! That wasn’t what you were supposed to say!! Arisa walked all the way to an empty area before she brought both hands to her warm cheeks.

I’m a really big fan!

I love you!

I admire you!

I was really encouraged by your words after seeing you on TV!

She had had so many things she wanted to say. She even thought of what to say in line.

“What the heck is ‘thank you very much’!?” Arisa came here today because she wanted to tell Sena that, on that day, she had been saved by her words, that she made her happy, and to express her gratitude. That’s why, what she told her wasn’t exactly wrong.

It isn’t… but definitely none of what I wanted to say got conveyed. She sighed, placing a hand on a wall with a poster.

But –

She met her. She looked down at the very hands that shook Sena’s own. I actually met her! Arisa broke into a smile and gripped her hands tightly.

She still hadn’t become the person she wanted to be in the slightest. Things continued to go wrong and the world surrounding her continued to maintain the status quo. She hadn’t been able to resolve anything nor had anything changed. Everyday was a fight with her weak self. She still did not have the courage to firmly walk down the path she found herself with her own two legs like Sena. Even the idea of where she should head was vague and she was still fumbling around for answers. But she couldn’t stand still.

Because that person is also the same. I have to move forward, too…

“Let’s go!” Arisa exclaimed as she walked straight ahead.

Are you ready to get a running start? Head into the direction you believe in and don’t look back. There are new encounters waiting –

♦     ♦     ღ     ♦     ♦

“Oh, I just got here. Wait a bit…” Ken said, his phone pressed against his ear, as he walked through the fountain plaza. He headed towards the automatic doors of the shopping mall.

As it was a holiday, the doors were opening and closing without a break as customers filtered in and out of the mall.

“I said I didn’t make any other plans. I’ll be with you all day, y’know?”

Ken stopped. Arisa walked past him as she exited the mall. Her eyes shined and her expression showed that she couldn’t help but be happy as she dashed towards the plaza. A smile crept onto his face without warning as he watched her walk away.

“No… it’s nothing.” He said to the person on the other line and walked into the mall.

With the desire to put an end to the days where they merely passed by each other, the first time he would speak to her would be after they began their first year in high school.

I won’t get serious, y’know? Cause we know that those that enjoy themselves are the ones that win in this “love game.”

You bluntly told me who thought of this as a game, “That must be so boring.”

You denied everything about my world. This was a mean encounter –

* I would usually take out any honorific suffixes, but I needed a distinction between the Setoguchi siblings and the Enomoto siblings, so Yuu and Natsuki keep their -senpai titles since Arisa respectfully calls them by their last names. 

** Adding this note just in case anyone gets confused, remember that a majority of this novel is in Arisa’s POV and she addresses Kotarou as Enomoto and Hina as Setoguchi. So in any instances where “Enomoto” and “Setoguchi” appear without the -senpai title, we’re talking about the younger siblings.

[ilovesport2121]

What Are The Best Tennis Footwork Tips?

Roger Federer was once interviewed by Charlie Rose after winning the 2004 U.S. Open. In the video, he was asked why his game looked so graceful. Without hesitation, Roger cited his footwork as the single most important factor in his game – for beauty and effect.

Specifically, Roger said, “The key to exploring my potential is improving my footwork…It’s always what I’ve been working on.”

During the interview, Roger kept coming back to footwork. In my opinion as a coach, tennis player and critic, footwork is the single most important factor in determining a player’s success in tennis.

I say this because it doesn’t matter how good a player’s strokes are, if his footwork is lacking, he won’t be able to place himself into position to hit effective shots. If we look at the best players on the ATP tour in today’s era (Djokovic, Federer, Nadal), they all have the best footwork in the game.

It’s no coincidence these men have consistently dominated the game for the last 15 years either. If you want to improve your tennis game, nothing will do so faster than bettering your tennis footwork.

But what does tennis footwork exactly mean? We hear so much about it but it’s quite a nebulous term which is rarely clearly defined. Let’s do that now.

I can break up footwork into four distinct stages. Each stage is important and crucial to hitting great, powerful shots.

Attaining the optimal position – Getting to the spot where the striking of the ball takes place. Planting of the feet – placing the body into the proper firing position. Harnessing momentum – pushing off the ground, thrusting the torso and generating the necessary momentum to propel the arm into the swing. Recovering – returning or moving to the best location on the court. I’ll go through all four stages in detail shortly. I can tell you for certain that the best players blend them seamlessly together. They do so all match long and repeat the process over and over during a point.

When a player can use his footwork so quickly and efficiently, often and oddly, it goes unnoticed by the casual observer. What remains is a virtuoso of perfection on the court with the final punctuating shot riveted as the last memory in the viewer’s mind – not the footwork.

Stage 1: Attaining the Optimal Position

This stage can be the most difficult of all four for beginner and intermediate players to achieve correctly. This is because most people use inefficient movement to reach the ball.

Furthermore, most people set up to close or far away from the ball. However, when done correctly, getting to the spot where you can strike the ball should set you up perfectly for stage 2.

There are only three ways to move to the ball in tennis. The first is by taking a cross-step and then shuffling (or side-stepping) to the ball. This is the most commonly used technique by players.

A first cross-step and shuffle is primarily done when moving laterally but can be accomplished when moving backwards and forwards as well. This is done for balls not too close or far away – but at a middle distance.

By doing so, we can save time and put ourselves into a better position as we reach stage 2. This is the reason why professional players rarely looked rushed when hitting shots and amateurs often do.

Stage 2: Planting of the Feet

By virtue of stage 1, we should now be in the ideal position to hit the ball. In this stage (# 2), we stop our feet (if only for a second) and plant them to the ground.

Why would we do this? Because all power is generated from the ground up. It’s true for every sport and tennis is no exception. In order to use the ground, we need to have our feet firmly planted on it.

We then bend our knees and push off the ground to create energy for the swing. As we plant our feet we must also rotate our body what’s called the power position.

This is a position where our racket is back (or loaded) and our torso is turned to the side. This position creates torque and kinetic energy that can be released into the shot.

Unfortunately, many club players (especially those 4.0 and lower) fail to achieve enough torque to hit truly powerful shots. This stems from improper technique and the discomfort required in torquing the body.

I believe this stage is of huge importance when it comes to hitting very powerful shots. Both feet need to be planted firmly on the ground and the body torqued well past 90 degrees in the shoulders.

Stage 3: Harnessing Momentum

At the commencement of this stage, the body and racket will have completed the setup to strike the ball. Think of stage 2 as being a loaded gun or a crossbow pulled back into the final position before being released.

In stage 3 we execute the forward part of the stroke. This is done initially by pushing off the ground with both feet. However, it should be noted that most of your weight will be on the back foot.

This is so because we want to distribute our weight from the back leg to the front leg in order to transfer our body weight into the shot. You’ll see every great player do this on every basic shot in tennis (forehand, backhand, serve and volley).

As the legs push off the ground, the torso begins to rotate towards the net, releasing the stored kinetic energy it achieved in stage 2. The last part of the swing happens from the arm, which more-or-less goes along for the ride.

The major mistake most club players make here is thinking the arm is the primary source of power when it’s the legs and torso that really do the heavy lifting. The arm should be loose and flexible, snapping forward from the momentum of the body.

If a player never achieves an ideal power position and pushes off from the ground, then the arm is left to do the work. This results in a labored swing and slower velocity shot. Such players can never seem to generate power no matter how hard they swing.

This is because the legs and torso play a huge roll in how hard the ball is struck. If the legs and torso only play a small factor in the swing, the arm must work extra hard to compensate. This approach can tire a player out over a long match and result in weak swings.

Stage 4: Recovering

After the ball is struck and the player completes his follow through, the next and final stage is to move again. This time it’s a movement to the best location on the court to set up for the next shot.

Experienced players rely on their anticipation to move to the ideal spot to hit the next ball. This can mean moving in any direction and any distance, just depending on the situation.

Often, you’ll see a player like Djokovic (who has the best footwork in the game) immediately move to a different spot on the court after completing his follow through. He seems to always know exactly where to go.

This comes from years of playing. Beginner players often stand in the same position after hitting a shot or move only a couple of steps. This usually puts them out of position for the next shot in the rally.

If you’re unsure of where to go, a good rule of thumb is to get back to the middle of the court. In general, it’s best to play slightly in back of the baseline or inside the service line (if you come into net).

The movement in stage 4 is similar to the movement in stage 1. You can shuffle back, cross-step and shuffle back, or just run. The quicker you can reach the ideal position to set up for the next shot, the easier the game gets. It’s also more difficult for your opponent to cause an unforced error on your part.

Summing It Up

Ideal footwork requires technique, anticipation, and willingness to put in the work. Most players with great footwork are constantly in motion, taking as many steps as they need to place themselves into ideal hitting position.

The next time you watch a professional tennis match on TV or in person, take note of the footwork of the players. Instead of watching the ball or the strokes, notice how much the feet are moving.

Then compare that footwork to yours – if you’ve ever videoed your play. You’ll probably notice a big difference. One of the reasons I’m better than I look on camera is my footwork.

While my strokes weren’t honed at a prestigious tennis academy in my formative years, I make up for a lot of deficiencies with my tennis footwork. My college coach instilled it in me early on and I’ve used it religiously throughout my playing life.

Due to being in great physical shape and having a light body weight (150 lbs), I can move nearly as well as most professional players, despite being in my mid-40s. I’m actually known for being a great mover (more than anything else) and dazzle people with the balls I can track down.

I do this by utilizing the four stages of footwork I outlined in this article. If you’ve never given much thought to tennis footwork, I hope this blog post sheds new light on it for you.

While this article is by no means a comprehensive guide to tennis footwork, I hope it gives you food for thought and motivates you to improve your foot movement on court.

Thanks for reading. If you wish to leave a comment or question, please do so below and I will respond.

Don’t forget I have a ton of great blog content on here to improve every aspect of your tennis game. Use the search feature to find what you’re interested in.

[prongsno]

This is not the end; part II

Lily meets the love of her life for a second time.

part I; read on ao3

dedicated to @gxldentrio​; @padfootdidit​; @hiddenpolkadots​ 

The second time Lily meets him, she swears it’s like she’s fallen into a dream.

She’s been imagining what it would be like to see him again; daydreaming about what he would look like (windswept hair and bright eyes and that glorious, wide smile directed just at her).

So, when she sees him there and his eyes light up, it’s like she’s been swept away in a current of feelings. She says a little prayer, thanking God that she actually decided to come to the party after all, because otherwise she would have never have seen him.

Lily realises with a pang in her heart, quickly followed by giddy and abrupt butterflies in her stomach, that their story is finally going to continue.

This is not the end.

Sirius notices in an instance.

Their quick eye contact, like they’re both magnets who connect as soon as they see each other, and the dazzling smiles, like they can’t believe the other one is there.

“Do you two know each other?” He asks with a grin, nudging James with his elbow (who is quick to clear his throat and pretend that the intense redness on his cheeks is from the temperature of the room and nothing else).

“Um.” Lily watches as James bites his lips and brings a hand to his head, messing his already tousled hair.

“We’ve met.”

His voice isn’t like how she remembers it.

Sirius nods his head slowly. “Right… how?”

The question makes James breathe in deeply and oh God… is he embarrassed by her? Lily’s lungs tighten, she’s afraid to breathe in or out.

James’ eyes haven’t left hers at all and she needs to look away, but they're bright hazel and so breathtaking, they entrance her. He widens his eyes at her, like he’s trying to tell her something but she has no idea what.

Her heart hammers against her chest so brutally that she wants to gasp from the pain and hide away in a corner of the room. Her ears ping, a white static noise filling her mind and making the hairs on her neck tingle.

And then, before she even realises it, he’s grabbing hold of her hand. His fingers are hot and sweaty and he holds her hand limply, his palm shaking against hers.

“We’re dating!” James blurts out in a rush.

The ringing in her head, the gongs and bells and whistles and chimes that were all banging and clanging together so loudly making her mind spin, stops suddenly as James says those words.

Is she dreaming?

His voice is high pitched, like he’s been sucking on helium, and she tries to catch his gaze but The Handsome Boy is already explaining to Sirius (who somehow actually believes James is telling the truth?) how the two of them ended up ‘dating’.

His fingers are warm, so different from the last time when they felt like ice buckets as the rain danced around them. And yet… and yet, it’s like her hand is supposed to fit into his; soft and delicate, just like before. She remembers the touch. Remembers how her heart ached… and it’s just like before.

“We err,” James scratches his neck awkwardly with his other hand, he glances at her briefly before turning back to Sirius. “We met in the library.”

“But you never go to the library.”

No, this is definitely not a dream. If it was, James’ hand wouldn’t be clammy and sweaty in hers.

And yet... here they are, with James clasping onto her desperately, like he’s sinking and she’s his anchor.

James’ awkward laugh fills her entire senses. It’s a soft harmony, so pleasant to her ears.

“Y’see it’s a um, funny story. ‘Bout how we met and all. Really funny… but I haven’t seen Lily in a while so…” James trails off.

It takes Sirius a few seconds to understand, the two lads stare at each other and it’s only when James widens his eyes and cocks his head towards a blushing Lily that he lets out a knowing ‘ooooh’.

"Ah,” Sirius says, realisation hitting him like lightning. "I didn't realise I was cock-blocking." He grins again, giving Lily a friendly nod. James looks like he wants to strangle himself. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to... converse, then," he adds and finally, after giving James a knowing look, leaves.

Only one thing follows immediately after: silence.

Lily is flabbergasted. James looks horrified.

They’re both still holding hands, frozen amidst the party that’s going on around them.

The music is loud, people are laughing and dancing and Sirius makes a beeline to join a group of six (it’s only a few seconds later that the guy is already chatting with a pretty girl Lily vaguely recognises from one of her classes) who are giggling over a game of twister.

James clears his throat and looks sheepishly at her.

James, who she fell in love with at Tesco Extra, the same boy who spilled pasta over himself and on the floor, who forgot his umbrella when the forecast had clearly said it was going to rain… the same boy whom she had been thinking constantly about since the day she had met him.

He ends the silence by casually asking if she wants a drink.

Dizzy, she says yes.

This is when they drop hands, when he leads her away to the kitchen and she’s facing the back of his head again. His hair is even messier from this angle.

A sudden rush of cold sweeps upon her and she finds herself curling her fingers into her fist, relishing the feel of something against her palm.

It’s like they’re still holding hands this way.

“I’m really sorry about… about that.” James says finally after he’s offered her a can of coca-cola. She takes it with a small smile, sipping it quickly so she’s at least doing something.

She doesn’t say anything, she refuses to. She’s not even sure what she would say, if the words managed to get out and make sense at all.

She can feel his jittery gaze, it’s unnerving. He has these beautiful eyes that she could stare into forever, but when she’s trying to avoid his face altogether it’s something that she finds extremely distracting.

His irritating but divinely beautiful smirk is back. And it’s contagious.

“I am really sorry.” He says again. “I didn’t want Sirius to know about… well,” He trails off at this and she finally looks at him again. He scratches his nose and gives a little shrug. “He’d never let me live it down. That I dropped my pasta everywhere in front of a… ”

“In front of a what?”

James’ cheeks are red, a shade that she’d expect to see on Rudolph the Reindeer’s red nose.

“I mean you. In front of you.” He says quickly and before she can ask anything further he’s already speaking again. “Are you hungry? Do you want some…”

He semi-runs towards the fridge and opens it hastily. He all but throws himself into it, his fingers tapping nervously against the handle. Lily can’t help but smile at him; all she can see are his tall, lanky legs and a rather cute backside.

“Um, cheese?” He pops his head out of the fridge and waves the packet with a sheepish smile. At a shrug of her shoulders he’s already handing her some sliced red leicester on a plate which she silently accepts.

“We have some crackers too.”

James is off again and ten seconds later he’s back at her side, handing her some Jacob’s crackers. She can’t deny it, she is starving and cheese and crackers, although a little strange to eat at a party, does sound rather delicious right now.

“I thought you lived in E4.”

She freezes as soon as the words leave her mouth, but she tries to act as natural as possible. It’s not like she’s been stalking him… just that she remembered where he lived and had walked past it at every opportunity. And yet here he was, looking like he owned the place in another flat. She can’t help but be nosey.

James, luckily, doesn’t seem to notice and he’s far too interested in eating cheese to notice her cheeks tinge red.

“Oh,” He wipes his mouth with his sleeve and gulps down a bit of cola. “I do.” He’s speaking with his mouth full, but Lily doesn’t care at all. She could listen to him like that all day. “But well, Sirius is my best mate and I spend most of my free time here.”

That explains it, Lily thinks with a grumble. Now she knows… she’ll make sure she walks past this apartment now at every opportunity.

“Plus, Sirius’ flatmates are amazing. There’s Remus and Peter, they’re both by the TV,” James points and Lily follows his finger. Remus, the taller one she presumes, has his phone out and the two of them are in hysterics about something they’ve seen.

“Why?”

“Pardon?”

They both reach for the last cracker and their hands brush against each other. It’s like an electric shock and yet it doesn’t hurt in the slightest. It’s static and surreal and gives Lily a little giddy feeling in her gut all at the same time. They pull their hands back in an instant. Shy smiles and nervous glances fill the air.

“You can take it,” Their voices ring out at the same time. James sounds desperate, Lily sounds hysterical.

“You have it,” Lily says again, refusing to look at James because she can feel her cheeks burning already and can hear the smirk in James’ suave and cool tone.

“No, please.” James says with a laugh and nudges the plate gently in her direction. “You’re the guest… and Remus will no doubt berate me if he ever got wind of me eating the last cracker when a pretty guest wanted it as well.”

He’s grinning at her, clearly well aware that he’s causing her stomach to flop up and down like she’s on a roller-coaster and a carousel at the same time. Plus, he just called her pretty and right now she feels so flipping elevated and happy that she doesn’t care that this would be her fifth cracker. She takes it with a smile.

If she was in love with him before, it’s now a bone-crushing, soul-destroying love that is burning her heart and setting her whole body aflame.

She’s halfway through the final cracker when she finds the courage to speak again.

“You never answered my question earlier… about why you prefer here?” She feels rude asking such a personal question when this is only their second meeting… but she feels as if she’s known him forever. She feels so drawn to him; he’s like a comfort in the storm. 

Safe, stable, pleasant… she could go on forever.

James just shakes his head and shrugs. No reason, he claims simply. But she’s not buying it at all and won’t take no for an answer.

“I just…” He relents finally. “It’s fun with all my mates here, that’s all.”

He’s clearly hiding something, that becomes far more apparent when he begins to walk aimlessly towards the fridge, pretending to look for something. He’s mumbling aloud to himself as he opens said device and stands in it for a good thirty seconds before he saunters back to her empty handed.

She can take a hint.

“Then, answer me this.” She knows it’s awful asking the poor boy so many questions, but she’s been daydreaming about meeting him again and can’t help but wonder if she’s in some sort of cliched fairy tale full of magic wells and fairy godmothers.

“Anything,” James says, automatically.

His voice is quiet and when she glances upwards to see him she’s met with… a vulnerability that she hasn’t noticed before. His eyes are open (ok, that’s a given… and it’s not like he’s been talking all this time with his eyes shut… but they’re open); they’re so wide and honest and hopeful and for a second it’s like she’s seeing herself in a mirror.

He bites his bottom lip in worry as he waits for her answer and she’s unsure as to why his reply affected her so much.

Lily takes in a deep breath. “Why say we were dating? Like, why not just say we’ve met and that’s that?”

He sends her a goofy smile, followed by a sheepish shrug of his wide, broad shoulders. He looks almost relieved.

“I panicked?” He offers, laughing a bit awkwardly. “I’m still being ridiculed for the last time I fell on my arse… and I know I could have said anything but…” His voice jitters, like he’s being questioned by a fearsome detective about a murder investigation. “But I, err… my mind just went blank.”

He’s not making much sense, but she understands him completely. Because that’s what had happened to her; seeing him there, like he was part of her dream had caused her mind to almost shut down completely.

“Like you had all these thoughts running across your mind, but you couldn’t say anything.” She offers.

“Exactly.” He smiles.

Only once during the night does Sirius and the other flatmates come over. James and Lily are playing a game of snap by the kettle, already on their second cup of tea, when the three saunter over and demand to know how they began dating.

The past few hours has allowed Lily to build her confidence and she really (like, really really) likes James. So she’s willing to tell a few white lies to help the poor guy out.

His cheeks are already red as soon as the three come over, and he whispers a quick ‘oh, balls, I’m so so sorry about this’ to her before he falls silent, fearing the worst.

“Was it when I asked you to join me at the gym that one time and you rang four hours later saying you had ‘lost track of time’?” Remus asks with a grin. James splutters into his mug.

“Yes.” Lily says quickly, grabbing hold of his hand and entwining her fingers in his. “James was showing me his action man collection.”

Sirius lets out a bark of laughter and Peter quips out with a snigger ‘is that a euphemism?’.

She blushes, but James strokes his thumb against her palm softly and her words jumble at the tip of her tongue.

He clears his throat, helping her out. “It’s true. I asked her if she really was okay flipping through comic books and she said she couldn’t think of a better way to spend her saturday morning.”

She suddenly recalls seeing James with the packet of superman tissues, Henry Cavill as the popular superhero doing the familiar and infamous superman flying stance amidst bright blues and reds. She sniggers, that is going to be a memory she will not forget in a hurry.

“I mean, I know we’re all a bit geeky but… action man? Seriously?” Peter seems to buy the lie and Remus and Sirius quickly follow.

“My collection isn’t all action man…” James mutters in defeat, his cheeks are so red that if she had a marker pen she could draw dots on him and he’d look like he had two ladybirds on his face.

“Batman?” Sirius asks, carelessly throwing a teabag into his ‘THE DARK KNIGHT’ monster-sized mug.

“Superman.” Lily answers smoothly before James can even open his mouth. “James is a really big fan,”

James looks mortified.

At one o’clock, when a few of the guests have already started to leave, Sirius decides to turn the party up a notch.

Lily and James had been competing in some mindless and addictive mobile games (temple run, candy crush and crossy roads are the main three the couple spend hours agonising over) when Sirius makes his loud and dramatic announcement.

The boy grins and holds up a sparkling DVD that twinkles and gleams under the bright lights of the room. The Sound of Music.

James groans beside her and she hears him mutter something along the lines of ‘not again’ before the two of them are ushered onto the sofa in front of the television. Sirius is grinning like a madman as he puts the disk into the blu-ray player and Lily finds herself squashed into James as seven other people fit on the sofa with them. 

Peter sits on Remus’ lap, a steaming hot mug of tea in his hands, and the girl Sirius was flirting with before as they played twister sits on the lap of said gentleman as well (the two look very comfy, Lily notices a little enviously as she fidgets to find a comfy way of sitting with the hard end of the sofa on one side and James’ hard and bony shoulder on the other).

“Are you okay? Comfortable?”

Lily has to shuffle awkwardly just to lift her head up to meet his gaze. He bites his lip in an attempt to conceal the laughter that’s threatening to bubble up his throat.

“Peachy,” She manages. 

At that moment Peter spills his tea on him and lets out a surprised yelp. Remus is instantly pushed into James, who in turns squashes Lily closer to the side of the sofa. Not that she minds… if there was anyone squashing her it would be James every single time.

“I’m so sorry!” He shuffles a little (or as much as he can) away from her and she’s so tempted to grab hold of his wrist and pull him closer to her again so that their thighs are touching and she can hear the sound of his heartbeat and his bony elbows pressing against her…

He blushes and sends her an apologetic smile, which Lily hastily returns as she curses student flats and their lack of good air conditioning. It feels like a sauna and sitting next to one of the most attractive guys she’s seen is not helping her at all.

The movie starts and all Lily is aware of is James’ heavy breathing and how his fingers dance anxiously against his legs.

Everyone else on the sofa is chatting along to themselves, the main culprit being Sirius who quotes aloud alongside the movie. Remus tells him to shut up every single time but eventually joins him in the quoting.

Sirius’ silence lasts all but two minutes and then the sofa gets into a discourse about ‘how do you solve a problem like Maria?’ or ‘what would it be like to sit on an acorn, we need to try this’.

Conversations dance around the room, but Lily and James are frozen. 

They try desperately to look everywhere and anywhere but when James’ phone vibrates and she feels the buzz against her thigh, her cheeks are on fire again. More so when he murmurs out a ‘sorry’ (he’s said that word a lot to her in the past few hours) and has to awkwardly reach into his pocket and if they were close before they’re even closer now and she can almost feel his hair tickling her neck and she can almost count the freckles on his cheeks and nose.

After a few seconds of struggling he finally manages to get to his phone out and she watches as he stares intently at the device. His forehead crinkles in concentration, his nose twitches and he bites his lip. 

She's entranced.

He breathes out a dramatic, heavy breath as his long fingers begin to tap against the screen in an almost unbearably slow pace. Lily’s eyes are glued to his hands; how he takes such a long time to tap out the words, like he should really be a grandma who's gotten a mobile for the first time and has to take ten minutes to type something out as the grandchild watches in agony. 

Then she remembers how much she’d like to kiss him, and all grandmother/grandchild analogies fly out the window.

“Everything okay?” She finds herself asking. She doesn’t usually like to talk during movies but since the whole sofa is already talking over the film, she feels less guilty about it.

James seems concerned as he stares at his phone and his problems are suddenly important to her.

“Yeah…” he scratches his chin and sighs. “It was just domino's sending me a text about half price pizza. I texted ‘STOP’ to stop them from spamming me.”

She's not able to say anything in response (although what she would have said, she has no idea) as the song ‘Sixteen going on seventeen’ graces the screen.

Sirius instantly stands up to dance and serenades the broom which is standing next to the bin. As Sirius and the brush dance around the kitchen lovingly together, Peter and Remus secretly film the whole ordeal on their phones and a tall, lanky guy (whom Lily has heard Sirius call ‘Franky-dank’ throughout the night) decides this is a good a time as any to make the party a nice cup of tea.

James’ eyes are glued to the tv screen when she next glances towards him. There's so much more room on the sofa now and yet they're still pressed up against each other and she wouldn't change it at all. 

Yes it's uncomfortable and his elbows are sharp and his shoulders are bony… but he's amazing and she's in so deep now she might as well continue on sinking.

She can see his lips moving and she realises he's singing along with the song quietly underneath his breath. She can't help but smile at the image, what with Sirius singing aloud (and in the totally wrong key) in the background and with James pretending like he doesn't know every single word to the song.

She could watch him forever.

And as her eyelids start to feel heavier and heavier she continues staring with a soft and enthralled smile etched upon her face.

She’s as close as can be to being in his arms and she falls asleep to the sound of his breathing and with the sight of his picking his nose. Delightful, she wouldn't change a thing about him.

The next thing she knows tiredness has taken over and her head drops and she hears a soft bespoken ‘oh!’ in the endless void.

When she wakes up the world is a blur.

Lily opens her eyes slowly, and for a second she can't remember where she is or what she was doing because this room doesn't look familiar in the slightest. It's then that she starts to panic and lifts her head.

James is leaning against the sofa, his head resting against the wall in what looks like the most discomforting angle imaginable. It’s when her eyes drop down to follow his fingers, which are tapping slowly on his phone, that she she notices her own position.

Her face is resting against the nook of his shoulder and there's a wet patch right where her mouth is. If she's been drooling then there is every possibility that she's been snoring too and she can just imagine how horrified James must have been and what a gentleman he is to have not thought enough is enough and abandoned her alone on the sofa.

He must have sensed her small movements because he finishes typing something quickly before he looks down at her. One arm is bent awkwardly at her side… but the other, oh the other is delicately wrapped across his chest. 

She can feel his heart beating gently against her hand and it's like the flipping elephant in the room because they both know it's there, that her fingers are against his chest and that he feels warm and safe and so familiar. She's afraid to move but when he looks down and smiles at her it's like watching a breathtaking sunrise; her heart leaps in her throat and butterflies erupt everywhere.

“Hey,” He murmurs softly and swings an arm around her shoulder. 

His fingers are warm and they curl against her in such an intimate way for a few seconds before his hand freezes and goes limp, dropping back to his side as if he had never made the move in the first place. He shows no signs of embarrassment, just gives her another smile to which she gladly returns it.

“Sorry,” Her body is aching from sleeping in such a weird way and yet she doesn’t want to move away from him in the slightest.

“What for?” His voice is so deep and when she's right by his chest like this she can hear every intake of breath. The hairs on the back of her neck tingle and she lets her fingers grip onto him just that little bit more.

She gulps and all she wants to do is snuggle deeper and kiss every inch of him and trace the lines on his face and pull her fingers through his hair.

They both stay still, no intention of moving at all.

The sofa isn't full anymore, so there's much more room now.

And yet they're pressed against each other at the far right as if there's still ten people squashing them into their close proximity.

“You don't look very comfortable,” is what she says eventually, blinking her eyes and stifling down a yawn. 

The sun is only just starting to rise through the cheap and broken curtains, it gives the kitchen a hazy, orange glow and James looks almost ethereal with the light shining against him.

His laugh is soft, just as always, addictive, delectable and as sweet as honeycomb and caramel.

“I chose to stay.” It's a different answer from the one she was expecting, but she can see the truth in his eyes and it's all she needs.

“Plus,” His voice rings out and she realises she's been staring mesmerised at his lips for goodness knows how long. “You have a tight-death grip and I don't think I would have been able to move even if I wanted to.”

All she gets from that is he didn't want to move (or that's how she's going to interpret it anyhow) and she's going to continue sinking and drowning because that's all she knows.

They say it takes two to tango, and it also takes two to almost cuddle on a sofa after knowing the person for only a total of twenty four hours ish. 

There's a part of her completely terrified that she's in way over her head, that there's a possibility that she's making up all these feelings. That he has no interest in her whatsoever… that their meeting at Tesco that one day was a complete coincidence… that it wasn’t fate, that it was just her helping him pick up pasta from the shop tile floor and not her falling helplessly in love after just thirty seconds of seeing him.

They chatter for a few minutes.

James recounts last night; how insulted Sirius was that Lily had dozed off during the best song of the movie but had forgiven her when he was offered a nice sugary tea off Franky-dank. How the movie had slowly just become background noise as Peter and Remus went through the various filters on snapchat and took a few rather amusing videos that Lily would have to see later.

It’s when Lily covers her mouth to yawn that James reaches down to hold her hands. She stares at him, surprised by how forward he’s suddenly become (but secretly loving it at the same time). His hands envelope hers, warm and soft and rough at the same time and she’s just about to fold her fingers through his when he gently drops them and gets up off the sofa.

His knees click, just like last time, and he lifts his arms, stretching as if he hasn’t moved in a million years. His shirt rises just a little, but it’s enough for Lily to see a slither of skin and the top of his jeans. Then she’s blushing and cursing herself because she doesn’t know if it’s from seeing James like this or from her thinking that he was about to hold her hand like they were a couple.

When he’s done stretching he plods over to the kettle and gets out the mugs they used last night. As she watches him make their teas, and notices how he listened and remembered the way she liked the perfect brew (weak and milky with no sugar), she realises that the reason why she blushed was both the aforementioned reasons and more.

It’s that he’s here.

And she’s here.

Together.

Even though they were together most of, or rather all of, the night, she still wants more. She doesn’t care if it’s a selfish thing to think. She doesn’t want to be so shy and embarrassed by a slither of skin.

A hot cup is placed into her hands and she thanks him instantly (tea etiquette is always thanking the tea maker no matter if it’s the right colour or not).

“Is the colour okay?”

She swirls the teaspoon around aimlessly and takes a hesitant sip after blowing on it a few times. He watches like a hawk and doesn’t stop until she gives him a nod and smiles, “perfect,”.

He makes the best brew, despite his own being the complete opposite to hers (so dark with only a dash of milk and one heaped teaspoon of sugar which almost definitely counts as two).

The clock reads four a.m. when they’ve finally finished their teas. Tangled feet and heads resting against each other, their voices dancing back and forth.

She never wants to leave. But when he fidgets and checks his phone she knows all good things must come to an end at some point.

She places her mug down on the small coffee table, twiddles her thumbs and stands.

“I suppose I best be off,” At the sound of her voice he’s staring at her again. Eyes so open and yet hiding all emotion. He nods stiffly. “I have an essay due Thursday.”

“Started it yet?” He asks as he places the mugs in the sink.

“I’ve not even looked at the questions yet,” She laughs a little and watches as he reaches over to grab his brand new, sparkling clean and expensive looking trainers.

“Peter once wrote an essay one hour before the deadline. He got a first and the teacher said it was the best damn essay she had ever read. You’ll do great, I’m sure.”

There’s a couple of seconds of awkward silence. James stands there in his shoes with a light jacket clad over his shoulders whilst Lily stands in just her mismatched christmas socks. She spots her scruffy shoes by the hallway and drags her feet over to them, highly aware of James’ heavy gaze on her back.

Once the shoes are finally on and her bag is swung over her arm James smiles and says he’ll walk with her to her flat. That much had been obvious as soon as he had put on his shoes, but she thanks him nevertheless and smiles giddily when he opens the door for her, the two of them walking out of the flat together like they’ve known each other for years.

She doesn’t want to leave.

Last time ten minutes had not been enough.

This time it seems like twenty four hours aren’t enough either. She needs weeks and months with him. Years. Endless encounters, conversations that last days and smiles that last ages and over lifetimes.

They walk down the steps in a comfortable silence, listening to the birds sing and twitter in the light glow of the rising sun. Their feet step in unison, gravel crunching under their shoes and the wind twirling around them in a soft, delicate breeze.

It’s not enough.

He asks her which building she’s in and smiles for some reason when she replies with ‘P’. She doesn’t ask, nor does she want to because she’s afraid that speech will fail her and that she’ll end up croaking and making a fool out of herself.

“Listen,” He says once they’re walking from Sirius’ B flat. “I err, wanted to thank you. About last night.” When she doesn’t say anything he continues on, his voice mumbling. “It wasn’t fair of me to put you into that kind of situation before asking if it was okay. And Sirius and the others believed it and so you really helped me out there.”

He chuckles and this time when he looks at her she swears she can’t breathe. He smiles and his eyes are alight, shining and she’s so drawn to him like a captivated moth to a flame. “I wonder if we’ll make a habit out of this.”

They stop when they reach P, a shabby looking building with moss growing out of the bricks. She fidgets and puts her hands in her pockets, watching James as he kicks a small stone onto the grass.

“Well,” She says at last. “This was uh, fun.” She means it, and more. But words fail her, not for the first time.

Once again James smiles and with the sun behind him, the light gleaming through his glasses and brightening his dark hair, he’s like the perfect happy ever after ending to any story.

When he doesn’t say anything and only stares at her she feels like she’s now overstayed her welcome. She grips onto her bag tight, needing some kind of support, before she gives him a nod and a quick smile and turns away.

She hates how it’s like déjà vu, turning and walking away. The realisation that it’s over hits her hard like she’s just slammed into a brick wall and broken every bone. But there’s no reason for her turn back. He’s not calling out her name or tugging at her hand. It’s just like before and yet it’s not. Instead of being filled with giddy daydreams it’s the hard, nitty-gritty realism that fairytales and wishes do not come true.

Lily bites back the tears and glares at the door. It’s the end, if you want it. She thinks bitterly and grips onto her keys tight, full of anger.

It’s the end.

It’s the end.

And he wants it.

Her keys fumble into the lock and then she hears movement and a flurry of angry and foul swear words before James is suddenly by her side, breathing as if he’s just ran a marathon.

His eyes are dancing with fear and hope and expectation, just like hers. She’s too scared to say anything, but her hands pause. The key stays in the lock.

“I was thinking,” He breathes out, his eyes refusing to leave hers in a trance-like state. “If you wanted to, that is, if we could… we could meet. Again? Sometime.”

She should be angry, but as soon as she sees how sincere and desperate he looks it melts away and an unbearable wave of emotions swallow her whole.

“I would love to.” It’s amazing, saying those words. They’re true, they scream out into the void and ring for all to hear it.

He smiles and damn, she loves his smile. He looks exhilarated and ecstatic and she would bet on anything that she looks exactly the same.

Like two fools hopelessly in love. But they don’t care, they’re sinking together and it’s the best thing in whole world.

“You should go and work on your essay first though. I don’t want to be the reason you don’t get the mark you deserve,” In a single movement he’s taken out his phone and after a few seconds later passes it to her.

He’s created a new contact and after her name is the sun emoji, smiling up at her in such a cliche way that she hates and loves it at the same time. Once she’s done she creates a new one for him, James, followed by the sun emoji because she’s trash okay.

“I guess I should go in then,”

They stare at each other and God, they can’t stop smiling. Shy smiles, smirks, wide grins and soft chuckles. It seems like hours go by before her phone makes a sound and she finally pulls her eyes away.

Her flatmate asks if she’s okay since she never returned back. She types back that she’s never felt better.

“I’ll see you then. Soon.” He says and it’s a promise, as he watches her turn the keys in the lock. She gives him a wave and then another and then one more before she turns to climb up the stairs, just for good luck.

He stands there until the sun is risen, smiling at the door with the goofiest, most elated smile he can muster.

The third time she meets him he greets her with a bouquet of white daisies and soft yellow roses. 

This time, they both know they’ll meet again. That they have their whole lives ahead of them.

That this... well, that this is not the end.

[lexiseigneur]

Chapter fourteen: The last Sun Hunter

Ao3

It was reassuring finally knowing how she was going to die. Speculating constantly on the subject for the past year had been a burden. And part of her since the day she had met Joshua had been convinced that living in the bunker was just delaying the inevitable. One way or another, she would perish as a consequence of the Strigoi plague. How ironic that her own actions would precipitate that event.

Quinlan’s memory replayed over and over again. An old woman with compassionate eyes had explained to him how his essence was connected to his progenitor’s. Her name had been Ancharia. Lexi had also gleaned Quinlan’s affection and guilt. She had no intention of asking more about that woman at this very moment. It had been difficult enough to convince her companion to leave that basement. For the first time since she had met him atop that hill, the Dhampir appeared defeated. And Lexi was acutely aware that this was her fault. However, as much as she wished she could alleviate his suffering, she did not regret what she had done. Together, they would end the nightmare and their reward for this coming sacrifice was their time in the Bond.

Strigoi roamed the streets of the city. Having stayed put the entire night had been a shortsighted decision. The heaviness of Quinlan’s thoughts seeped into her mind. There was little she could do as sharing joyful memories required focus. That concentration she needed to dedicate to their course through the infested town. The creatures were relentlessly looking for the Born and had spread in the suburbs. Sprinting from shadow to shadow, the couple crossed Santa Fe and entered the parking lot where the SUV was hidden. It stood anonymous amongst a quantity of other abandoned vehicles. Lexi and Quinlan had consumed her last reserve of blood before leaving the house. Both were getting thirsty. As soon as they drove away, they shared another ration. In Quinlan’s cooler, a single pack remained.

“I burglarized a donation center a week ago but my provisions did not last long.” Quinlan informed her.

“We will have to do that again.”

“Indeed, but there are more pressing matters. The sun will soon come. So far south, it would be judicious to seek shelter.”

Telephone poles cast short shadows beside the road. Around them, arid planes spread toward the rocky hills in the distance. Even with her hood, her glasses and the cover of the vehicle, she grew uncomfortable. How she hated that sun now.

“There are buildings ahead.” Lexi noticed.

Quinlan nodded and accelerated. A forlorn gas station stood amongst a few modest houses. This had not been anyone’s home at least. One of the buildings had once been a seedy looking bar. They hid the SUV behind it. No need to attract the attention of any passing vehicle, however rare they might be. On the back seat, under the near-empty cooler, were half a dozen books. All had flowing lava or exploding mountains on their covers. Lexi did not want to look at them so she gathered the volumes and shoved them into the metal trunk. Then they took the precious devices and entered the bar through its back door. The small space was filled with round tables and at the back, a vast counter spread across the length of the room. They deposited their cargo on the dusty wood of the bar.

“If there is still any fuel here, we might be able to drive straight back to the bunker.” Said Quinlan. He dripped a few drops from their last bag to the brains in the jamming devices. Worms plucked hungrily at the red blooms.

“About that…”

She shared the memories of Laura and Emma but not of the two men. Quinlan turned slowly to her, bewildered.

“You did what?”

“I’ve helped people who needed shelter more than I did.”

“You’ve compromised our base of operations.”

“Quinlan, when you left I doubt you planned on coming back. You relinquished your claim on that place.”

His brow was suddenly crossed with deep lines.

“Did you not plan on going back yourself?”

“I wished it but I knew it was unlikely. I thought you might have found the Master by now.”

Quinlan grunted as that remark. Then he shook his head in confusion.

“Did you not plan on going back after defeating him?”

Lexi did not reply. Even with her Dhampir strength, she had been convinced that the Master would kill her. Ever since she had seen those red eyes fixated on her, it has seemed immutable. Quinlan scrutinized her expression.

“You knew nothing of my plan or of our deadly connection to him, but still, you did not expect to survive this?”

“No, I guess I did not. Not truly.”

The muscles of his jaw jutted out.

“Why are you so willing to die?” There was anger in that thought.

“I am not willing. I accept that possibility because I do not see the point in rebelling against it. I am tired of being scared.”

He shook his head and turned away from her.

“This is my fault. I should not have involved you in that war.”

Lexi sighed and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I had accepted that I might die before we even met. When I crawled on that hill to help you, I was quite sure it would be the end for me.”

She leaned to look at him and he avoided her gaze.

“Quinlan, helping you that day was my choice. Just like what is happening right now is my choice. By blaming yourself, you diminish the value of those decisions. You act as if I could not knowingly lay down my life. As if I had no agency.”

In a blur, he turned back toward her.

“No…I did not mean that.”

“Please, do not regret involving me because then we would have never known each other.”

The corners of his lips lifted in a melancholic grin.

“I will never regret knowing you, Lexi. I cherish every moment.”

“Even that day?”

In the recollection she shared, Quinlan had just finished drinking two deer and she was screaming at him. The Dhampir had sprinted to her and growled menacingly. He laughed and pulled her close.

“So you wanted to shoot me?”

“I did. I knew it wouldn’t kill you and I was quite mad.”

“I pray the Gods that I never anger you again.”

This remark made her cringe in remorse. Her rage had already been costly for two humans. Lexi bit her lip and looked up into his eyes.

“I killed two men that day. When I gave the mother and daughter the map to the bunker.”

“How?"

She showed him and his mouth contorted in disgust.

“They deserved it.”

“Did they really?”

“Is there anything more repugnant than attacking a mother and her child?”

Lexi could not immediately think of other such scenarios. But surely, if Quinlan forgave her, then she could forgive herself as well?

“You gave them your map…”

“I did.”

“Lexi, how did you find me?”

She chuckled. As if he did not know.

“The vast place! Where the Bond is! I can see you there.”

“I am afraid I do not grasp the meaning of your response.”

The woman caressed his temple.

“Inside your mind. Look for the place where you can hear me.”

“I believe you might have had more practice in such endeavors.”

Of course, she had. Already as a child, she had begun treating her mind like a place she could manipulate.

“I’m going to hide and remain quiet. Look for the beacon in the lightless world.”

“Wait…I do not think I can do that.”

Her smile turned into a smirk.

“You? I thought you could accomplish anything you wanted. Maybe I was wrong…” She said out loud.

Quinlan rattled and uncovered his sharp teeth. Excited by this little game, she kissed his cheek and disappeared.

“I will find you, you little vixen. And when I do…”

Lexi repressed a laugh as she hid. The building had a crawl space at its very top and she crouched there. Curious of his progress, she dropped into the grey pool. Inside the boundless space, Quinlan was close. The cocoon of brightness was vibrant and so was her own light. How could he not see it? After several minutes, the cocoon cracked open. Fascinated, she observed as his glow expanded. Intense as a sun which did not burn. It was towering and dazzling. Lexi suddenly felt very small next to his gigantic presence. In a matter of seconds, he would perceive her. Like lances, beams of his brightness pierced the space around.

Dread squeezed her insides. Behind him, like a moth seeking a bulb, a red stain crept. It was blind and did not shine. The thing snapped in out and out of existence, reappearing near the spots where Quinlan’s light had shone brightest. It was getting closer to him. The abomination did not belong here. Lexi rushed back to the physical world and screamed.

“QUINLAN! STOP!”

She sprinted to him and was met with deep confusion.

“What is the matter?”

“You cannot project yourself like this. He knows your light. When you reach too far, he feels you.” She said.

Quinlan had not immersed inside the vastness the way she did, he had expanded the glow of his soul. His method was clearly dangerous. Scared for the safety of the Bond, she returned to her mind. Everything was normal. The stain was gone and Quinlan’s soul was back into its firm cocoon. She breathed.

“It’s safe. We’re safe.”

“This means I cannot find you as you did.”

“If need be, I will find you again.”

“It will be one hour before the sun is covered. When that time comes, let us not dally.”

Lexi nodded. The toxic light provided protection but they needed to remain careful. So they waited. And when the sun started to wane, they knew they had made a huge mistake. Two clouds of dust lifted in the horizon. One came from Santa Fe and the other from the direction they had intended to take. They blocked the only road from both sides.

“They are semitrailer trucks.” Said Quinlan after focusing on their sounds.

She concentrated as well. Besides the powerful engines, there was nothing there.

“I cannot hear anything inside.”

“It means the drivers are not human.”

Lexi growled loudly. Strigoi did not have a heartbeat.

“How many? I cannot hear anything besides the truck themselves.”

“I believe they are attempting to camouflage their sounds.”

They had timed the assault to coincide with the arrival of the ochre light. The Dhampir were trapped between the two incoming trucks. Terrain east and west became rapidly too rocky for the SUV to manage.

“Shall we run?”

Quinlan was still focusing deeply and a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

“No need. There are just a few dozen of them.”

“Hum…”

“The Master did not have time to gather more. We are the lucky ones this time.”

The self-assured Dhampir checked his Micro Uzis. His ammunition was limited to what was left in their magazines but that did not appear to bother him.

“I can deal with them myself. Please remain inside. Do not let them see you…this time.”

Memories of that catastrophic night surged into her mind.

“There are even more than last time. I will fight with you.”

“It really is not necessary. Your change gives us an edge and it would be foolish to waste it. You must keep out of sight.”

“I trust your abilities, I really do, but you almost died last time.”

His gaze shifted and he needlessly checked his magazines again.

“There is something you are not telling me.” She pushed.

They could not lie in the Bond, but they were not obligated to speak.

“That night, I was distracted because you were there. I would have let that Strigoi find any other human associate. It would have mattered very little to me if the Master saw them.”

She growled and gripped the edges of the bar. Quinlan had nearly died because of her. Because she had been a liability. The wood splintered around her fingers. From now on, she would never be a burden to him. Like he had said, she was now “an edge”. Lexi relaxed. She had to remain hidden not because of her weakness but purely for tactical reasons. This she could accept.

“At least finish the blood.” She said.

“Very well.”

After his meal, the Dhampir removed his coat and goggles and put his holsters and the sword sheath directly above his vest.

“This time I enter the battle with the reassurance that if one of them finds you, it will die swiftly.”

Lexi felt reinvigorated by his faith. She observed from a window as he walked into the ochre light. The Dhampir stood on the asphalt, mocking one of the nearing trucks then turning to also taunt the other. Lexi snorted. Both large vehicles stopped askew to block the road completely. Their windows were tinted, protecting the drivers from harmful rays. It would not protect them from the lone warrior. Strigoi poured out of the bellies of the metal beasts. Crimson eyes jumped from creature to creature.

INVICTUS! They screeched in unison and that display made Quinlan laugh.

Like a flock of starlings, they moved and surrounded him.

“Beloved, please duck.”

She obeyed and instantly the rapid fire of automatic weapons drowned the snarls of the Strigoi army. Two rounds pierced the windows above her. Most landed inside white flesh with satisfying thuds. The bullets would be insufficient and the sword would have to sing. When the Uzis stopped firing, Lexi resumed her observation. The dance had begun. Red eyes blinked everywhere and then closed forever when metal flashed.

Quinlan flew among them. As her Dhampir eyes managed to follow, she was taken aback by the gracefulness of his gestures. Notwithstanding her new abilities, she could not move like this yet. On the horizon above Santa Fe, more dust was rising.

“More are coming. I should join you and finish this quickly.”

“No! Your existence is a weapon! We must keep it a secret!”

He was right. Her new strength gave them an advantage intrinsically but also because the Master could not predict it. Quinlan was healthy and still fighting with mesmerizing grace. When she reached through the Bond tentatively, she could perceive his confidence and…his pleasure at slicing unencumbered. Falling into savagery was delightful. As her own heart ached to enter the battle, she understood.

When the approaching vehicles got close enough she focused on the sounds within them. Ten heartbeats rang clear. The engines were small compared to the trucks. She doubted more Strigoi accompanied the humans. Slowly, Quinlan was tiring. Should he falter, even for an instant, she would be at his side.

“There are ten humans coming.” She warned.

“Inconsequential.”

Twenty Strigoi stood strong when three SUVs arrived at the level of the parked truck. The cars stopped in the dirt on each side of the road. Humans emerged from their sunroofs and she promised to herself that should any of them shoot Quinlan, she would drink them dry. That animosity permeated through her self-control.

“I know. Let me contend with them. Everything is well.” Soothed Quinlan.

She did not protest but braced herself when the men pulled high caliber automatic weapons upon the vehicles. Quinlan started whizzing about, making himself a difficult target. Then a loud voice boomed above the Strigoi cacophony.

“QUINLAN! GET OUT OF THERE!”

“Huh?” Said Lexi to herself.

The warrior sprinted to the SUVs and the Strigoi followed. But he was faster. As soon as his silhouette joined the men, they opened fire on the swarm. Limbs and torsos exploded at the contact of the powerful projectiles. All was over in seconds.

“What is happening?” She thought.

“The last Sun Hunter.”

The image of a young man appeared in her mind and with that, the respect of one warrior to another. Then a name: Augustin Elizalde. She was still unsure what he meant by Sun Hunter but at least, this was not an enemy. Relieved, she concentrated on their spoken exchange and watched.

“I fucking knew this mess was for you!”

The man jumped off the car roof.  He thrust a palm toward the Dhampir who accepted the handshake.

“We’ve been tracking you for two weeks, man!”

There was a murmur of agreement in the small crowd.

“You have?”

“You thought nobody would notice a ghost making Strigoi sashimi all over the place?”

Quinlan was embarrassed, she could sense it. He did not like being exposed in such an unexpected way.

“I guess I cannot be surprised that humans might also have…taken notice.”

Gus laughed and added:

“When we arrived in Santa Fe we had missed you by less than a day…I was pissed. But then, some Strigs started gathering and, we’re no fools. We knew they were coming for your white ass.”

A hint of irritation at the colorful language. Lexi giggled.

“Why have you come to find me?”

“I thought you were dead since the bomb. Do you think we want to live the rest of our lives like rats? We want the Master dead."

The other men nodded and some threw words of agreement. Quinlan paused.

“The Sun Hunter and his confederates would make formidable allies. He had proven useful in the past.”

“Can we trust them?” Asked Lexi.

“Since we all share the same goal, I believe we have little choice.”

“Then I’m coming.”

He was unsure but she was not. She walked out of the house, hoodless.

“You better introduce me before they start shooting again.”

“Mister Elizalde, my companion will join us now.”

“Your what now?”

Lexi closed the distance between the bar and Quinlan in seconds. Some of the men jumped back in surprise and the one standing closest to Gus positively screamed.

“MADRE DE DIOS!”

She stood by the Dhampir's towering silhouette with a hand on his back. His body radiated intense heat due to the recent battle.

“What’s this?” Gus asked, less surprised than the other men.

The olive-skinned fighter was rather handsome with his dark eyes and high cheekbones. Despite his agreeable features, the tattoos on his neck and arms made him look fierce.

“My name is Lexi.” She said and looked at each member of that troop. Not a single woman and they seemed like they had seen better days. All were unshaven and one had a terrible scar across his face.

“Nice to meet you, Mister Elizalde.” She added and offered Gus a hand which he shook. This was the first time a human looked at her new face. His gaze was confused but fearless. She grinned.

“Nice to meet you too, huh, ma’am.”

Then he turned to Quinlan.

"So you have a sister?”

"Oh hell no." She thought.

“Revolting.”

Her smile morphed into a grimace. Quinlan must have reacted similarly because Gus’ face transformed with the realization that their relationship was of another nature. He nodded and waved a dismissive hand. The men had gone over their surprise and were detailing the two Dhampir. Their eyes switched from Quinlan to Lexi, comparing. Some exchanged looks and there were discreet smirks. The gang judged she was not as impressive as Quinlan was. They had just seen him fight after all, while she cowered within the safety of the bar. Still being regarded as weak was bothersome.

“I’ve got like a thousand questions but I think we should bounce first.” Said the Sun Hunter.

“Agreed. We have our own vehicle.”

They made arrangements and soon it was decided that their own SUV would lead. Gus and his cousin, Raul, would ride with them. The other eight would remain in contact via radios. Before departing, they checked the fuel tanks of the deserted station. They were empty. Not ten minutes of driving later, Gus could no longer hold back.

“So there are two of you, huh?”

His dark eyes observed them briefly in the rearview mirror before returning to the road ahead. Lexi reached for Quinlan’s mind and they exchanged words in the span of a few seconds.

“Does he know how you were born?”

“No. I never told him.”

“We cannot tell him of my origins either. For that matter for now on, the story of your creation needs to be kept secret.  If I figured out this out thanks to you, others could as well. We don’t need another Eldritch Palmer.”

“What should I say?”

“That you were born from a Dhampir mother and father.”

“Why should he believe that?”

“Because you’re going to sell it and so will I. If we are lucky he might never ask. From now on, our story is that our species is a cousin to the Strigoi and the Master hunted us to extinction. We cannot infect humans, ever. This is our taking revenge for the genocide of our own.”

“Very well.”

Quinlan turned to Gus who was completely unaware of the exchange which had just taken place.

“So it seems.” He replied.

“Hey, lady, why did it take so long for you to climb into the ring?”

It was lady now? Urg.

“What makes you think I haven’t been plotting from the shadows this whole time?”

For their lie to work, she would need to suggest that she was much older than she really was.

“Really?”

“I only come out now because events are ripe for a final blow.”

“I like the sound of that. But then what are you doing on the other side of the fucking country? The Master is still in New York.”

“Ha! What indolence! He basks in his perceived victory.”

Quinlan was shaking from the revelation and the remark had burst through the Bond.

“How can you be so sure about that?” Lexi asked.

“I’ve got some eyes all over the place. We cornered the black market in the city. And a few of my little birdies told me that Eichhorst is established there…I figured…”

“You thought well. The lapdog would be reluctant to leave his master’s side.” Said Quinlan.

While they spoke about the probability that the Master did indeed reside in New York, Lexi’s brain was bubbling. This information and their new associates changed everything. Even more than her new body. The outlines of a plan, insane but elegant, formed. It would be dangerous and involve her meeting the Master while shackled but it could work. She shared it in the Bond. Quinlan snarled and turned to her.

“You are NOT doing this. I will not allow it.”

Lexi was disappointed. They were past this, or so she had thought. The rage which had carried her through her transformation came back. It had not disappeared at all, it had merely been repressed. Quinlan startled and pulled away from her.

“Mister Elizalde, would you be so kind as to park at your earliest convenience?” She said.

Her voice was smooth ice.

“You got it, ma’am.”

As soon as the vehicle stopped, she exited it and Quinlan followed. They were on a deserted highway. Her back turned to him, she cracked her neck and assessed the overwhelming urge to draw her machete and jump him. She ran her fingers through white and brown hair. No. This was not something she could do. Not for lack of desire or ability but because it would be wrong. She could not resent him for depriving her of her agency using his force then turn around and do the same. Love could not be corrupted by violence every time a problem arose. They were adults. Equals. They could use their words to resolve their problems, even those that drove them crazy. Especially those that drove them crazy. Lexi had no intention of being in a relationship as dysfunctional as her parent’s marriage. Even if it lasted only a short time.

"We just discussed this, Quinlan."

"It is nonsensical to put yourself in so much danger."

"There is no way to face the Master safely. Even the best case scenario means we die."

"If you give him the opportunity, he will inflict upon you a fate worse than death."

"Yes...but I accept that possibility."

"I do not."                                                                                                                

The wings of her small nose flared.

"Am I a doll to you that you can prop up as you wish and toss in a box when you are scared I might break?"

"What a preposterous analogy."

"Isn't that what you did when you left me behind?"

His scowl was almost savage.

"All I wanted was for you to be safe. You would have never accepted to let me leave. To let me walk to my death alone."

"No, I would not have."

"Then I was right, wasn't I?"

"No. You were so completely wrong."

His hands closed into tight fists and he looked away.

"You broke your promise." She said.

That made him wince.

"How can I trust you if every time you are afraid, you tread on my consent like this?"

"I did it so you would be safe, not to hurt you."

"You used your superior strength to crush my will."

He faced her and even in the shadow of his hood, his horror was evident. But his fear was still clear in the Bond, stronger than his regret. He still thought himself justified. This was not something Lexi could tolerate. It was crucial for him to comprehend how much his actions had diminished her.

"I will show you something. It will hurt."

He nodded. For the first time since her transformation, Lexi reached for the dark room. That cramped place was different. More tangible. She opened her mind’s eye and found herself in a basement. It was dark and dusty. A flight of rotting wooden stairs led to a closed door and at ceiling level, on the wall opposite the steps, was a small window. Through it, she could see the lightless vastness and Quinlan's soul. On shelves covering the brick walls rested all the monsters she had locked here. Each was contained in a jar and as the worms had, they moved as she moved. So her mind had indeed changed as well. It was more solid, more real. Now that it inhabited the vastness, it had gained substance.

In that dark room, she could not hear Quinlan and that loneliness was strangling her. Even as she resented him, she wanted his presence. But Lexi had to bear that suffering just a little longer.

There was no need to peruse through the imprisoned memories. It had been the second one to ever become a permanent resident of this dark room. The dustiest shelf had to be the oldest. When she took the second jar from the left, she knew she was correct.

Holding it with only the tip of her fingers, she climbed up the stairs. Laid before the door were empty cardboard boxes and she grinned joylessly. Those were for the thoughts she only pushed in the room temporarily. She twisted the handle and Quinlan's voice immediately echoed.

"Lexi?"

It was good to hear him. She hesitated as she pulled the door shut behind her. This was not a memory she wanted to relive ever again. Never before had she retrieved a recollection from the dark room. There was a good reason those tormenting nightmares were locked away from the rest of her psyche. Freeing one was a terrifying prospect.

Now she advanced in that house which was her mind. It was cozy, with old wooden furniture and a lot of clutter. She stared at the flashes inside the glass. Then she closed her eyes and smashed the jar on the floor.

 Lexi was shaking. She had done something mightily stupid. When a neighbor had praised her father in front of the congregated church for his donations and for being a pillar of their community, she had snorted. It had been only a month since she had slapped that Bible out her mother's grasp and since then she had thought many times about her father's violence. She despised him and that feeling had shone through at the worst moment. People had turned to her briefly when she had made that idiotic noise. And her father's eyes had stared at her just long enough to make her understand what type of punishment laid ahead.

They drove back home. She jumped out of the car as it parked, rushed inside and attempted to get to her bedroom. But her legs were small and his were long and far-reaching. A clammy hand closed on her nape and yanked her back before she could climb up the stairs. This time, his rage was focused solely on her. She had humiliated him. Tarnished his impeccable image. When he grabbed her shirt and slapped her hard she knew this time would be different because her affront had been unforgivable. So she did something she had never done before.

She fought back.

Screaming, she clawed at his hands, kicked and even tried to bite. But it was pointless. Lexi was just a child and even as she struggled to protect her body from his violence, she was aware of her helplessness. Her defiance angered him further. The punishment would only be more severe. His hand closed on the small neck and his fist connected with her cheekbone. Immediately, her body went limp and she fell. A ringing vibrated in her head and she could not control her muscles. The girl wondered if that was what dying felt like. Her father walked away and since the danger had passed, her mother came to her help. She cursed her own weakness and drifted.

 Her real eyes opened and she chocked on the desperation of her younger self. Quinlan clawed at his temples as if attempting to remove the memory. He grunted when it stopped pouring through the Bond. Lexi focused intensely to leash that memory again. The dark room swallowed it whole, more easily than it would have with her human mind.

With trembling fingers, Quinlan caressed his cheekbone. Had he ever felt that vulnerability? It was a special type of feeling, helplessness at the hand of those who ought to be protecting.

“I understand now. Please, forgive me.”

His pain was digging into her deeply. It was overwhelming guilt. The emotions twisted her stomach and made her dry-heave.

All the moments she could recall where her heart had swelled with love for him, she gathered and applied onto his distress like a balm. Quinlan sighed in relief and shared his own. For an instant, Lexi saw a polar bear, heard the racing of a heart and observed herself trying to muffle it. Already then, he hoped and desired. Lexi embraced him and they found each other’s lips.

“Did we stop just so you two could fondle each other?”

Lexi startled. The presence of the humans had slipped her mind. Quinlan rattled and glanced at a confused but entertained Gus.

“We have to tell him about our…mode of communication. It’s necessary for the plan anyway.” She said.

“Agreed.”

The couple re-entered the car in the blink of an eye.

“Holy crap!” Yelped Raul, still in the passenger seat.

“I’m sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you.” Said Lexi with an apologetic smile.

“It’s ok, ma’am.”

She scowled. Gus sat behind the wheel again.

“Call me Lexi, please. You too…Gus.”

Raul nodded but still appeared worried. The Sun Hunter turned briefly and gave her a nod of agreement.

“Mister Elizalde, we can leave now. We have a plan to discuss.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“First we have to clarify something.” Said Lexi.

The couple exchanged a look. How would they react to this information?

“When we stopped, Quinlan and I were discussing an issue.”

“Huh…no…you guys just stood there then smooched.”

The woman laughed at his choice of words.

“We do not require spoken words to communicate.”

Raul’s eyes widened but he stared ahead. Gus shrugged.

“Yeah…The Ancients did that too. At least you guys can also speak. What about the plan?”

“It doesn’t bother you?” Asked Lexi.

“Nah, ma…Lexi”

She beamed at him and via the rearview mirror, the Sun Hunter returned the smile.

“To make things simple: we have the means to incapacitate the Master temporarily. Machines that will mess with his brain. But for that, we need to know in advance where he will be. We also need him to be in sight and unlikely to flee.” Started Lexi.

“Ok. How you gonna do that?”

“Lexi will be bait. The Master thinks she is human and through the years, he has taken immense pleasure in killing the humans I cared about.”

This was what he had objected to.

“Why would he think she is human?” Raul turned to them and detailed Lexi once more.

"We have hidden my appearance and masked my Dhampir scent. The Master knows that we are together but not of my nature."

“If the Master’s people capture Lexi, he will have her brought to him immediately.”

Gus shook his head.

"Yeah, how you gonna hide that she ain't human then?”

"One of your men will pass as my captor. My face doesn't need to be identified. The human scent we used would be enough."

“In that moment just before she is lead to him. I will seek a Strigoi and make a deal with the Master.”

“Huh…”

“I will offer my life against hers.”

They were certain that the Master would not resist the appeal of destroying his sanity before killing him. And the best way would be to hurt Lexi while Quinlan watched.

“That sounds like a shit plan.” Said Gus.

“That’s when you and your men become important. You need to make sure the devices I built surround us and are functioning. Once the Master, Quinlan and I are in the same location, you will activate them. Then, we will destroy his body and take the worm.” She said.

“The what?” Asked Gus.

“His essence. What jumps from body to body.” Clarified Quinlan.

"What the hell? He can do that?" Asked Raul.

"So could the Ancients but this ability was not openly advertised for obvious reasons."

"Yeah, those dicks weren't exactly the sharing type." Said Gus.

“Then we will flee with the worm and dump it into an exploding volcano.” Concluded Lexi.

Gus laughed. His eyes appeared in the rearview mirror.

“You guys have to be joking. Volcanoes don’t fucking blow on command.”

“No, they don’t, Mister Elizalde. Unfortunately, while we know for sure a nuclear explosion will destroy the Master, so does he. In the past year, he has taken possession of all those weapons. However, such natural explosions are just as destructive. Sometimes more so."

"What about just filling him with silver?" Asked the Sun Hunter.

"It would hurt him but not kill him. Even direct sunlight did not destroy him. His body, the outer shell, would just be discarded." Replied Quinlan.

"Crap." Said Gus. He and his cousin exchanged tense looks.

“But he cannot hide entire mountains away. And volcanoes give warning signs. There are monitoring systems for active ones around the world. We need to find a way to tap into those systems, then when one is about to go off, we will set our plan in motion.” Said Quinlan.

He had obviously already read some of the books she had put away.

“How the fuck are we gonna tap into those systems?” Said Raul.

Quinlan opened his mouth to answer but Gus cleared his throat.

“I’ve got a guy for this type of shit.” Said the Sun Hunter.

“You’ve got a guy for volcanoes?” Asked Raul.

“No, dumbass. I’ve got a guy who hid a lot of the brainiacs the Strigoi wanted dead. If any of them know of this volcano system bullshit, then the Librarian will bring them to me.”

Gus nodded to himself and bit his lip.

“I’ve been sponsoring this Librarian dude. I wanted info on the Master and he’s been tracking historians and other smart ones for me. But after the bomb went off, they were the first to be rounded up and slaughtered. We never got much intel that way."

"Historians were executed?" Whispered Lexi.

"Not officially but we ain't stupid. Basically all leaders and anyone with two brains cells to rub together disappeared quickly."

Lexi closed her eyes in mourning for those who died for the crime of carrying the accumulated knowledge of humankind.

"This is what he does. He steals knowledge and memory. What makes a person a person. Now he will accomplish that at the scale of an entire species." Said Quinlan.

Raul leaned toward Gus and murmured: "You think they are chatting right now?"

"He wants to erase humans. Domination is not enough." Said Lexi and she shook her head. How would humanity ever bounce back from this?

[theopentable]

Temptations in the Wilderness (Part 2)

Picture, for a moment, your life as a leaky balloon.

Philosopher Alain de Botton says we’re all like leaky balloons, constantly at the mercy of people attitudes and action. He says this:

Our ‘ego’ or self-conception could be pictured as a leaking balloon, forever requiring the helium of external love to remain inflated and vulnerable to the smallest pinpricks of neglect. There is something sobering and absurd in the extent to which we are cheered by attention and damaged by disregard. Our mood may blacken because a colleague has greeted us absent-mindedly and our calls have been left unanswered. And we are capable of finding life worth living because someone has remembered our name and sent us a fruit basket.

- ALAIN DE BOTTON IN STATUS ANXIETY

We are impacted by the way people treat us.

Esteemed and treated well we stay afloat; criticised or ignored and we can feel like we lose something of ourselves.

We are deeply affected by the absence of love. Love makes us human.

And on the other side of things lovelessness creates a bit of a legacy in our lives.

We may, in our vulnerability or incompleteness, feel the need to prove and protect ourselves.

Perhaps all it takes is a question – is it really true that you can fly around the world in 10 seconds?

Before we know it we’ve done two laps of the world before collapsing, utterly exhausted.

We may feel the pressure to become something, or somebody we currently are not.

Or maybe we’re too much like that and not enough like something else.

Or not smart enough.

Or not skinny enough.

Or not [……….] enough (you fill in the blank)

It’s true to at least some extent for all of us that we live with a fundamental insecurity that shapes our lives more on some level.

And what we might even discover is that we’ve been so busy dancing to this tune or that tune, so busy seeking to earn our love from everybody else, that somehow overtime we’ve lost touch with who we really are.

Who are we? How do we know who we are?

These may well be the most important question we ever ask.

Nothing will shape the trajectory of our lives more than how we live out this question.

*             *             *

Let’s look at this second temptation.

Jesus is tired, hungry and alone in the desert. Jesus is vulnerable.

He has negotiated the first temptation to turn stones into bread.

He knows there’s more to life than bread, more to life than merely satisfying our appetites – we’re built for more! We’re built to run on God!

So the devil then offers Jesus another probing examination.

5 Then the devil took him to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, 6 saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written,

‘He will command his angels concerning you,’     and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’”

“Jesus,” the devil, puts forward, “being the anointed one and all, you’ve got angel armies at your disposal. Do something flashy. Show us what you can do. Let’s see some party tricks Jesus! You’ve got the attention of the crowd, come on then, dazzle us!”

The devil knows that people are always attracted to spectacular displays.

If we’re impressive enough and enough people notice us we are loved well.

Jesus could rubber stamp his golden presence with miraculous certification.

He would be esteemed, an instant celebrity – his name in lights!

So long as he kept delivering what the people wanted.  So long has he kept telling them what they wanted to hear.

Do you get how dangerous this? Do you get what’s on the line?

Jesus could have easily been a flimsy politician who flip and flops depending on the opinion polls or approval ratings of the crowd.

He could have been a chameleon, ever changing to his various contexts and crowds.

People would have loved him.

But he wouldn’t have been anything more than a figure we liked immensely so long as he kept dancing to the tune.

Ralph Waldo Emerson said that,

‘To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment’.

When the devil tempted Jesus to do something flashy he said to him,

7 Jesus said to him, “Again it is written, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

Jesus refused to dabble in senseless experiments with the power of God (v.12).

These weren’t acts that would prove any kind of trust in God. God was already pleased with Jesus! These were acts to impress the crowd.

Jesus had to get inside what really mattered to him: will my life be defined by a fear of God or by a fear of man?

He wasn’t going be the Popular Messiah, the Great Celebrity who lived for the applause of the world.

Jesus couldn’t afford to lose who he was for the approval rating of the crowd. He might be the flavour of the month for a short time, but that sensationalism would never last.

The world doesn’t need more celebrities; it needs people who know who they are and will live out their walk with God irrespective of whether they are understood or celebrated by those around us.

There is after all, too much on the line. We only get one crack.

And of course is does happen. We can easily get swallowed up by the temptation to live for the approval of others.

Andre Agassi.

Andre Agassi is an eight-time Grand Slam champion, a 1996 Olympic gold medalist, and the first male player to win 4 Australian Open titles.

He is the only man to have won all four Grand Slam tournaments on three different surfaces combined with an Olympic gold medal, as well as the ATP Tour World Championship.

During his 20-plus year tour career, Agassi was known by the nickname "The Punisher".

And yet Agassi shocked the world when in his memoir, he publicly confessed for the first time that he had hated playing tennis from the time he first picked up a racket to the day he retired.

Agassi described growing up with a father whose love for him was tied to his performance on the court.

What drove him to become a champion wasn’t a passion for the game but his desire to win the heart of a father whom he describes as unable to “tell the difference between loving me and loving tennis.”

Imagine that.

A life dedicated to something he hated for someone he wanted to be loved by.

*             *             *

But could it be possible that we’re all like this on some level?

The temptation Jesus felt, and what we all feel on at least some level, is really about projecting the most impressive version of ourselves to meet unmet needs to affection and esteem.

We care how other people see us because how they see us (often) determines how others treat us and how others treat us determines our own sense of how lovable we are.

Deep down most of us all doubt and fear that if someone really saw us for who we really are then they wouldn’t really want us.

So we abandon these hidden parts of ourselves that somehow make us who we are and instead spend our life inhabiting roles and personas that seem to garner good responses from others.

And if that role or persona won’t cut it then we’ll change it in a heartbeat. We’ll become something else.

The cry of our hearts is love me! And here are several reasons why you should…

Really, we believe, that the world only values us for what we do, rather than who we are.

Our life becomes a battle for significance.

Of course the real challenges comes with slowing down.

When we step out of our performance roles for a moment we’re left with deep identity questions.

We’re not sure who we are if we don’t have a role and don’t hear the applause.

We wonder, among the thousands of masks we wear, which one is the authentic me?

Our deep fear is this: What if there’s no one behind the image?

What if there’s no real substance to who we are?

At this point we are presented with what can feel like a terrifying crisis.

Here we are confronted with our own emptiness.

The temptation to go and generate new and convincing reasons for others to love us rages like an inferno.

But this is our opportunity.

Here’s our change to stay with our emptiness just long enough that our authentic self has an opportunity to be discovered.

We will feel the temptation to panic and retreat behind our crafted persona again, but if we can stay slow and open something new can take place.

To be honest though, this doesn’t usually happen on our own terms.

Understandably, we often seek to move through life from success to success and all the while people cheer us on!

Often what tends to open us up to these questions about who we really are is a catastrophe, a fall, or a failure or some significant event that turns everything on its head – in other words, we are thrust into the wilderness of life.

Maybe that career we’ve been carving out for so long comes to a grinding halt either through unemployment or even retirement.

How many people spend their whole life anticipating retirement only to feel entirely lost on the other side?

Maybe it’s swapping the impressive tools of your trade for nappies and wipes as you move from the adrenaline-charged rush of one setting to the mundane cycles of sleep, feed, change, repeat!

Or maybe it’s the opposite – maybe it’s waving goodbye to the last of the kids and you’re caught wondering, who am I now that no one needs me in the same way as a parent?

Or maybe something happens, maybe some kind of incident or mishap that means you can’t do the same work anymore. Maybe it’s not psychologically healthy anymore or maybe your body just won’t do what it once did.

What now?

Pain and humiliation and powerlessness and failure don’t feel good, but they can also be our great teacher.

Life in the wilderness isn’t exactly luxurious living, but it can be transformational.

Because what the wilderness might offer us is the opportunity to strip away the bits that don’t matter as much as we think they do to get to the stuff that will really last the distance.

And the truth is, for all of us who feel the pull to be something that others will celebrate, that God’s not as interested as we might think in what we do.

He doesn’t care about your polished and impressive image.

He doesn’t care about your trophies, or your degrees, your pay packet, nor the amount of hours you work per week.

From the divine perspective, who you are is who you are from all eternity.

Before you were put together, God knew you, and cherished you.

And when all is said and done, if you get to reach old age and you’re not much more than a bag of old bones with no tricks left, or maybe even no memory, no matter!

Because God knows who you are. God sees you. God delights in you.

In Luke 10 the disciples rejoice because they go out and cast out demons.

Jesus says to them,

“I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning. 19 See, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you.” (vv18-19)

And then he says this,

20 Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

Jesus is barely interested in their impressive works.

Don’t find your joy there.

Don’t find your joy in your achievements or your attributes.

Find your joy instead in the fact that your name is written in the book of life.

Your name is recorded by God.

God knows your name.

God know you.

And delights in you.

This is not to say that performance self is in any way your bad self, it’s just not your true self.

Your true self is wrapped up in your union with God – union that can’t be shifted, can’t be brought closer, can’t be pushed further away – it just is.

You are bound to God, our spirit and God’s Spirit, entangled and entwined.

We are one with Christ.

We are hidden in Christ.

Our identity is in Christ.

So whatever you say about Jesus you have to say about you.

You are God’s beloved son.

You are God’s beloved daughter.

God is delighted in you, ecstatic!

God desires you!

And you can’t change that.

There is infinite significance in this relationship, a significance that we cannot find elsewhere – though the temptation is real.

So does this mean we drop all our roles and give up on performing?

By no means.

But it might transform our doing.

Whatever it is that we do, we don’t do any of it to gain approval.

You’ve already got it.

Instead you live from a place of approval.

You go out into the world charged with the energy of divine love and affection.

You go out into the world sharing in God’s delight and passion for the world God created.

It makes all the difference.