#chat do we think going to school abroad would make me lose my mind or do we think it'd be good for me
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oh i was just reminded that u can go to school abroad
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shireness-says · 4 years ago
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The Set-Up Scam
Summary: They’ve always been friends first and foremost - Emma and Killian, Killian and Emma - until suddenly, they’re something a little more too. But with a $600 betting pool on the line about when they’ll actually get together - well, maybe there’s incentive to keep the good news a secret. ~5.5k. Rated T for language. Also on Ao3. 
~~~~~
A/N: Merry Christmas, @nevertothethird! I was delighted to be your pair for @cssecretsanta2020. It’s been wonderful chatting with you, and I look forward to a full stalking. ;)
You said you liked secret dating, friends to lovers, and characters being forced to work together - so I, like a fool, tried to include all three. I hope you like the result!
Special thanks, as always, to my beta, @snidgetsafan - the greatest treasure under any tree.
Tagging: @ohmightydevviepuu, @welllpthisishappening, @thisonesatellite, @let-it-raines, @kmomof4, @scientificapricot, @thejollyroger-writer, @superchocovian, @teamhook, @optomisticgirl, @winterbaby89, @searchingwardrobes, @katie-dub, @snowbellewells, @spartanguard, @phiralovesloki, @profdanglaisstuff
Enjoy - and let me know what you think!
~~~~~
They’re friends, first and foremost. Best friends, really - Killian and Emma, Emma and Killian. Partners in crime and two peas in a pod and every other cliché there is (and Killian would definitely know all of them). It’s been that way since the very beginning, when Killian let her peek at his attendance quiz answers in that awful intro to astronomy class in college. Their relationship had grown from there: late nights in the library and each others’ dorm rooms, studying or watching movies or chatting, all the way through graduation and eventually grad school. They get each other in a way that usually doesn’t happen for Emma, both coming from rough backgrounds and determined to make the world a better place because of it. Hell, they even work together now at Misthaven County Middle School - Killian as an English teacher, and Emma as a guidance counselor. 
And all that time, it’s been strictly platonic. 
It’s not like Emma hasn’t looked. He’s an objectively good looking man, and smart and sweet and funny. But he’d been in some “it’s complicated” situation with a grad student when they’d met, and then Emma was in that weird period where she and Graham gave it a shot, and by the time they were both available… well, by that time, they’d been Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. A collective, a pair, absolutely entwined every way but romantically. He’d become her person, and it wasn’t worth risking that. There was no guarantee a romantic relationship would work out, anyways - or that Killian felt the attraction too. 
The thing, though, is that they’re Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. Always together, always in each other’s stories, two birds of a feather. People constantly think that they’re together - or should be.
Emma doesn’t really mind, most of the time. She and Killian usually think it’s pretty funny, trading stories back and forth on his or her couch. Where it gets annoying is when each and every one of their friends are determined they should be dating. It’s been years of meaningful looks and hints about “so why aren’t you seeing anyone, Emma?” - but the last straw is the stupid, stupid bet.
“I just don’ unnerstand why you and Killian aren’t a couple!” slurs Mary Margaret, assistant principal and friend, at her yearly end-of-summer bash. “You’re ovviously in loooooooooove.”
“Sure we are, Mary Margaret,” Emma placates. 
“But why haven’t you yet?” she demands. “You made me lose the pool!”
That draws Emma up short. “I’m sorry, what?”
The little pixie-haired brunette frowns. “Don’t you know? We’ve had a betting pool going for ages about when you’d get together this year. I thought for sure it’d be the Fourth of July.”
It’s a good guess, actually - Ruby throws a famously boozy bash every year at her grandmother’s diner, conveniently situated right below the inn. It’d make sense for them to get drunk and take things upstairs - except for the fact that none of this is rooted in sense in any way, shape, or form.
“That obviously didn’t happen,” Mary Margaret frowns sorrowfully, staring down into her plastic cup full of god-knows-what. It doesn’t last long, though, as she perks right back up. “But they let me make a new guess! I’ve got my money on the Friday after your birthday.”
“How much money are we talking here?” Emma can’t help but ask. It’s like a compulsion, one she doesn’t like or understand. 
“Five hundred and fifty dollars.” At least that’s what she thinks Mary Margaret says; the slurring gets particularly bad on the f-sounds. It’s an astounding sum. Truly stupid.
Kind of tempting.
“And everyone bet that it would happen this year?” she makes sure to clarify.
“Yup!” Mary Margaret pops the p-sound and then giggles to herself about the noise. 
“Then I’m putting fifty dollars on it not happening this year. That Killian and I won’t get together.”
———
She means it at the time, too. Because yeah, there’s sometimes that niggling little what if?, but they’ve known each other for eight years. Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. It’s not going to happen - honestly she’s not even sure she would want it to.
Until. 
It’s not the Friday after her birthday, when they’re all going to hit the bar, but it’s the night before her birthday - a Tuesday. Killian comes over to grade vocab quizzes and eat greasy pizza, and stays to drink beer and watch stupid baking shows with her on the couch. Honestly, in so many ways, it’s a night like any other: two friends, just enjoying each other’s company.
Until.
Maybe it’s the beers. Maybe something’s been building for longer than she ever thought. Maybe it’s just that they’re both feeling good and, well, it is her birthday. But Killian kisses her - or she kisses Killian - they kiss each other and it’s like something slots into place. Like of course this was going to happen - they were just waiting for the perfect moment. It makes sense, in a way that Emma hasn’t let herself think about; he’s the person she trusts most, the best man she knows, probably the most important person in her life. Her best friend - and, probably, something more.
“That was…” he gasps, some indeterminable amount of time later. Somehow, he’s wound up on top of her on the couch - not that she’s complaining.
“Only the beginning,” Emma completes, smirking in a way she definitely picked up from him. 
Now that this has started, she has no intention of stopping. 
———
“Ok, don’t kill me - or, like, run away immediately - but I need a favor. A huge one,” Emma says much later, both of them naked and sated beneath her sheets.
Killian laughs beside her, peering up from the pillows with a smile. “After that, darling, I’m predisposed to give you just about anything you want.”
“And I’ll give it to you again,” she quips back, mostly to make him keep laughing. It works. “But seriously. Did you know that everyone’s got a bet going on us?”
That pops his head up. “I’m sorry, a bet? I… What? Who?”
“Seems like pretty much everyone. Ruby, Mary Margaret, David, Robin, Belle… I could go on and on. A six hundred dollar pool on when we get together.”
“Typical,” Killian mutters - though Emma catches a fond note in his tone. “Who’s the lucky winner, then?”
“Ok, this is where the favor comes in.” Hopefully this isn’t a breaking point for him; Emma would hate to have this taste of them, only to have it ripped away from her. “See, Mary Margaret told me about this when she got trashed at the back to school party, and I’d had a few too and was all hopped up on righteous fury or whatever, and I kind of… put fifty dollars in the pot that we wouldn’t get together this year at all.”
Killian stares at her for a moment, and Emma’s frankly scared that he’s going to get out of bed and go - but instead, he bursts into a near-hysterical cackle. “So you want to keep this a secret until the new year, so you can win the pot?”
Emma grins, knowing she must look like the cat that ate the canary (or however that weird-ass saying goes - again, English is Killian’s thing). “Exactly. We could spend it on a weekend getaway or something.”
“I’m in, then. Under the radar.”
“It’s just two months and change,” Emma says. “It’ll speed by. How hard can it be?”
———
Turns out - their friends are determined to make it as hard as possible. Even if they don’t know it.
Things are fine, at first. In fact, nothing really changes: Emma and Killian still show up at each others’ doors most nights, and Killian comes to hang out and grade papers in her office during his free periods most days. It’s just that their evenings are now filled with kisses and touches, and those afternoons in her office with all kinds of promises of things to come. It’s thrilling, in a way, to put on the front of normality for everyone else while only they know the truth. It’s nice, too, to be able to get their feet underneath them in this relationship without so many prying eyes watching them figure it all out. 
Just because they don’t know, though, doesn’t mean their friends stop trying. There’s a bet on the line, after all, and their friends have never exactly been ones to step back and let things naturally run their course. Not for those busybodies; not with six hundred dollars and Emma and Killian’s supposed happiness on the line.
(The fact that they’re right - that the two of them really are happiest together - is irrelevant.)
David, of all people, is the first to start meddling.
“Do you guys want to get dinner?” he asks out of the blue one day - calls Emma up on her phone and everything. “You and Killian and me and Mary Margaret, I mean.”
Emma’s antenna raises immediately. “What, like a double date? C’mon, David —”
“No! No,” he says hastily - a little too hastily, Emma thinks. “No, a cousin of mine - Kris, you’ve met him - he’s opening up his own restaurant. Some place with Scandinavian food, I guess?”
“That’s actually a thing?” 
“I guess. I don’t know, he studied abroad in Norway in college. Anyways, he could use a little business, support or whatever, so Mary Margaret and I figured we’d bring some extra people along. You know, help him out. And maybe Scandinavian food is good after all.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
The line sits silent for a moment, before David breaks. “So… you in?”
And as much as Emma suspects this is all some elaborate set-up - well, it’s supposed to be to help someone else. David’s cousin, who she has in fact met and is really a good guy. And so she reluctantly agrees. “Yeah, I’m in. One of us will have to check with Killian if he’s available —”
“What, he’s not right there with you?”
(He is, his lips kiss-swollen and pulled into a delicious smirk, but that’s not the point and none of David’s business.)
“ — but yeah, I’m down.”
In the week between the call and the dinner, Emma actually finds herself starting to look forward to it. Yeah, it won’t be a real date - not with David and Mary Margaret there - but it’s still a chance to wear a pretty dress that’ll make Killian’s eyes bug a little. She’ll have to pick something he’ll have fun taking off of her later, once they’ve pretended to go back to their own homes. 
Emma’s just pulling into the parking lot, however, when her phone rings, David’s name popping up on the screen. 
“We’re not going to make it tonight,” he says without preamble, followed by the most fake-ass cough Emma’s ever heard in her life. “We’re sick.”
“Yeah, sick off your own lies,” Emma mutters. “Alright, well, I guess we’ll go another time —”
“Oh no, I insist you guys still have dinner. You and Killian deserve to have a night off!”
“David, c’mon, don’t play dumb —”
He ignores her. “Besides, you’ll be doing me - and Kris - a huge favor. I already told him to charge whatever you guys get to me. Splurge a little, have dessert and a bottle of wine. It’s all on me.”
Killian climbs out of his own car as David pleads his case, cocking his head in confusion at the no doubt frustrated look on Emma’s face. He looks like he wants to kiss it better; Emma wishes he could actually do so.
“Fine,” she caves. “If you’re sure. But I’m running up the bill.”
“You say that like it’s a surprise.”
Emma takes particular glee in ending the call. She should have seen this coming. “Looks like David has come down with a possibly fatal cough, so he and Mary Margaret aren’t coming tonight,” she tells Killian, rolling her eyes. No need to resist that particular urge.
He snorts. “Ah, liar-itis. I thought he might be coming down with a case.”
“Complicated by meddler’s cough. Don’t forget that.”
“Of course not.” He dips down to capture her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss - another urge they don’t have to resist with none of their friends around to see it. “You look lovely tonight, Swan.”
She smirks back. “I know.”
“Of course you do,” he laughs. “I’m sure you wore that just to torment me through dinner. Now, shall we?”
“We shall.” Emma slips her hand through his offered arm. “Dinner’s on David, by the way.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
———
“So, how was dinner?” David asks the next day, his cough mysteriously cleared up. 
“Good,” Emma replies, knowing exactly what he’s digging for. “Your cousin’s got a good lingonberry cheesecake. Don’t worry, Killian and I totally ran up the bill. Kris has been well supported. You’re welcome.”
“And?” he demands.
Emma makes sure to play up her confusion. “And… what? It was a great dinner, might even go back if I ever have a date, and then I went home. Honestly, what did you expect to happen, David?”
Even through the phone, she can almost hear him audibly deflate. Something like a sigh, or perhaps the sound of his entire plan collapsing in on itself. Personally, Emma thinks it’s hilarious.
(It’s especially funny when she vividly remembers the way Killian had stripped her out of that dress, can still feel the scratch of his beard on her inner thighs.)
(But again - those are things that David doesn’t need to know.)
———
The set-ups multiply like rabbits, and Emma starts to notice her and Killian being forced into more and more situations together, just the two of them. Fuck only knows why they think these clumsy attempts will work; after all, Emma and Killian held out for 8 years of each other’s company before finally getting together (without anyone’s help, she might add). Still, 
Trivia night is a weekly tradition for them all, down at the Rabbit Hole. Some weeks, the turnout is good; sometimes, not so much. They usually meet up at someone’s house and carpool from there because there’s not a ton of parking spots outside the bar, and it’s always worked well - two, maybe three cars instead of a half dozen or more. It’s a good time, and Emma always finds herself looking forward to Thursdays. 
Tonight, they’ve met at Robin’s, Killian’s former roommate. It’s a good crowd tonight, too - Robin and his fiance Marian, Mary Margaret with David, Belle the librarian, Ruby and Mulan, even Graham and Lance and Tink. The gang’s all here, probably trying to let loose a bit before holiday obligations set in, and they’re raring to go - all twelve of them.
Emma hopes that it’s not planned - that there just happen to be two cars and then some worth of people here - but it’s more likely planned. Robin probably twisted their arms to come, just for this.
“Emma, would you mind checking the door one more time?” he calls as they congregate in the driveway. “I’m sure I locked it, but I’ve just got that niggling little feeling…”
“Sure, no problem.” And it isn’t - it’s checking the damn door. Except it’s actually winding down his stupidly picturesque front garden path to the front door, and then having to maneuver around the always-unlocked outer glass door to make sure that the real door is locked, and then maneuvering and winding and everything back… and by the time Emma makes it back, everyone’s already piled into Mary Margaret’s station wagon and Robin’s little SUV, even the middle seats everyone usually hates, leaving just the conniving man himself and Killian standing on the asphalt. 
“Sorry, looks like the two of you will be riding together,” Robin says, not seeming remotely sorry. “This is convenient anyways! I know how much time you two spend together, if you decide that it’s easier to crash together afterwards… it wouldn’t be a problem for the extra car to stay here overnight.”
“Oh, I’m sure it wouldn’t be,” Emma grumbles. “I don’t suppose you have any underlying motive here, do you Robin? Say, to the tune of six hundred dollars?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he responds cheerily. “I just really, really want you to know that you can keep your options open. And, you know, other euphemistic things if the urge moves you.”
Asshole.
(Emma does not leave her car at Robin’s overnight - but that doesn’t stop Killian from meeting her at her place afterwards.
“This euphemistic enough for you, love?” he teases as Emma pulls at his shirt, trying to tug the cotton tee over his head.
“How’s this for a euphemism: fuck me.”
“That’s not exactly how that word works, Swan.”
“I could not possibly give fewer shits about semantics than I do right now, Killian, unless it somehow relates to you getting your pants off.”
Somehow, even in the midst of their frantic stripping, he manages to laugh. “As you wish.”
She’s always preferred straight talking anyways.)
———
“Thank god I found you both!” Mary Margaret declares, bursting into Emma’s office a little too dramatically for her tastes. Until now, she and Killian had been having a wonderful lunch together, but that’s obviously a thing of the past now. 
“That seems a little extreme for a Friday,” Killian comments mildly as he sets his cafeteria burger back down on the styrofoam tray. Personally, Emma thinks the cafeteria food is disgusting, but Killian’s got a real fondness for the cheeseburgers, and especially the french fries. No one’s perfect, she guesses. “What terrible impending tragedy can Emma or I save you from, Mary Margaret?”
“Kathryn’s father is in the hospital, so she and Fred can’t work their assigned booth at the Winter Carnival tomorrow.” Storybrooke County School District’s charity carnival is a tradition every winter - one Mary Margaret takes very seriously. Something that’s clearly about to come back and bite them all in the ass. “Would you two be able to cover tomorrow? You’d be doing me such a huge favor…”
Killian raises a single eyebrow as he turns to meet Emma’s eye - that eyebrow that always seems like a dare. “My schedule’s clear this weekend. Count me in. What do you say, Swan, think you can find room in your schedule to save Mary Margaret from the tragedy of all tragedies?”
Emma rolls her eyes at the way he’s putting it on thick, but truth be told, her only plans had been spending the day with Killian. Might as well. “Sure, what the hell,” she says, reaching for another bite of her microwave pizza. “I don’t have anything else going on.”
In retrospect, Emma realizes that Mary Margaret could have done something terrible with this - assigned them to the kissing booth or something. God, she hopes that there’s not a kissing booth at a middle school carnival, but it feels like just the kind of thing she’d pull. Thankfully, they’re set up at the ring toss game. It’s not strenuous in the least; they don’t even have to take money, just paper tickets. Really, the only questionable thing is that they’re crammed right together in the box formed between the booth walls and the counter and the table of bottles behind them. Maybe that’s something that would have bothered her a few weeks ago, back when they were Emma and Killian but not Emma and Killian. Now, it’s just an excuse to get right up in his space and enjoy all those little touches, right under everyone’s nose.
(Maybe, every time they have to duck under the counter to retrieve poorly-thrown rings, Killian takes the opportunity to steal a quick kiss while no one else can see. And maybe - just maybe - Emma uses those same opportunities to steal her own kisses right back.)
“Soooooo, how’s it going?” Mary Margaret chirps when she pops up out of nowhere mid-afternoon. It’s like she thinks she’ll find them making out in the middle of the carnival or something. Which… fair. The urge is there. But they’re professionals - and Emma wants that money, dammit. She’s not caving here.
“Just fine, Mare,” Emma replies. “Nothing worth reporting.”
“There’s not? You two are looking awfully cozy in there… nothing to report?”
“Well, you’re the one who set up the booths, so…”
“Aye, just making the best of it,” Killian helpfully adds.
Emma almost feels guilty about the way that Mary Margaret visibly deflates.
“You know this was another ridiculous set-up, right, love?” Killian asks once their friend has walked away. “She probably never even needed our help. It was all a ploy.”
“I see it now,” Emma sighs. “I had just weirdly hoped she’d be above all that bullshit.”
Killian quirks that eyebrow yet again. “Mary Margaret? Infamous meddler? Of course not. It’s cute that you thought that though, darling.”
“Oh, shut up.”
(“Mary Margaret told me to take the weekend off, that they’d over-scheduled,” Kathryn tells Emma later when she tries to ask how the other woman’s father is doing. “Was that not the case?”)
(Fucking figures.)
———
Ruby, frankly, is not a surprise. In fact, if there was one person Emma would figure would be pulling this bullshit, it’s Ruby. The girl’s too competitive for her own damn good - not to mention that mile-wide chaotic streak running through her soul.
“Pucker up!” she crows, thrusting what Emma assumes is a sprig of mistletoe over her and Killian’s heads. They’re at Ruby and Mulan’s place for… some party; it’s probably, maybe holiday themed, but Ruby’s never needed an excuse to throw a party. Anything to get them all drunk and laughing and forgetting about the stresses of the week.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Emma demands. “Ruby, don’t be stupid. This isn’t college anymore.”
“Oh, like we ever did this in college,” Ruby scoffs with that devious twinkle in her eye. “Besides, college shenanigans are a state of mind. And I’m not giving that up. Now c’mon, no weaseling out of this.”
“It is the rules,” Mulan points out, appearing to slip her arm around Ruby’s waist and drop an affectionate - if slightly tipsy - kiss on her shoulder.
“Yeah, you hear that? Smart half says it’s the rules. So go ahead and pucker up and kiss him. And then go make out for a while and maybe bone each other so I can win the pool.”
Killian blushes a little bit at the phrasing - something that’s surprisingly cute on him, knowing how often he usually tosses around the innuendoes and exactly how dirty a mouth he has when they’re alone. Before Emma knows what he’s doing, he leans in to press a gentle kiss to her cheek, and then another, smacking one for good measure. “Who are we to deny the great, determined Ruby Lucas?” he proclaims grandly. “One kiss: delivered.”
Ruby’s face gets a bit mutinous; it’s the only word for that particular storm cloud, really. “No it isn’t! That’s cheating!”
“Eh. Technically, it was a kiss.” God bless Mulan for being the only one willing to go against Ruby when she’s got a plan; perks of being the girlfriend, Emma supposes. 
“And more importantly, Rubes, that’s all you’re going to get from us.” And that’s Emma’s last word on the subject.
(“Happy Christmas, darling,” Killian whispers into her neck later once they’re back at her place, dangling his own sprig of mistletoe over their heads. “How about it? C’mon, give us a kiss.”
Emma is more than happy to comply.)
———
Emma wouldn’t say it’s common for her to get calls from the school librarian, Belle, but it’s not unusual either. So when Belle calls her up in mid-December, shortly before Christmas break, Emma doesn’t think twice about it.
“The new Scholastic catalogs are here,” Belle informs her. “I haven’t started sending them to classrooms yet, but if you want to take a look now…”
“I’ll be right there.” Yes, the catalogs are full of books for middle school students, but Emma still loves those things. They’re chock-full of nostalgia.
“I haven’t even taken them out of the box yet,” Belle explains when Emma meets her at the check-out desk. “They’re all still in the back room. Here, I’ll let you in.”
That should have been Emma’s clue here. Why would a box of new catalogs, just arrived in the mail, already be shoved into the storage closet? But Emma’s too excited about the prospect of those newsprint magazines to think about it. By the time Emma realizes there’s nothing in this little closet but printer paper and old yearbooks… Belle’s already closed and locked the door, trapping Emma inside. 
So it’s yet another set up, most likely. It’s a good thing she’s not claustrophobic, at least.
Sure enough, not five minutes later, Emma can hear Killian’s voice outside the door. 
“How many boxes did you say it was, Belle? I’m happy to help haul, but I’m just wondering if we should get a hand cart to assist.”
“Oh no, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Belle’s voice responds. “Just a few trips for each of us. Right in here…”
And suddenly, Killian’s in the cramped little closet too, and the door is shut and latched behind them. Gee, what a surprise.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Emma comments dryly. Somehow, probably on some kind of ridiculous romantic instinct, Killian’s hands have already found their way to her hips. It’s nice, really, ignoring the circumstances.
His face is adorably confused, looking around the room and back to the door and then to Emma’s own face and all over again. “Did she just lock us in here?”
“Yeah, keep up, Jones,” Emma teases. “I assume another stupid set-up effort.”
That makes the confusion disperse alright, a smirk full of promise creeping across his face instead. “If that’s the case… we’ll just have to make the most of it.”
“Oh no you don’t,” she warns. “There’s a camera in here.”
“So? It’s not like she’s watching the monitors.”
“So, Belle recently started dating Will Scarlet in IT. You want to take the chance she locked us in here, and forgot to have her boyfriend monitor us?”
“Fuck,” Killian swears, dropping his head back in dramatic emphasis. “They’re really going overboard, aren’t they?”
“I’ll make it up to you later. I promise.”
Thirty minutes later, when Emma and Killian have done nothing but talk and try to find some little extra space in the crowded closet, Belle finally lets them out, just in time for the end of Killian’s free period.
“I’m sure you have no idea how that happened,” he comments, sarcasm dripping from every word.
“It’s just the weirdest thing,” Belle agrees.
Well, that’s one way of putting it.
(Emma makes it up to him, several times over, at her place that night, with a take-out pizza to boot.)
———
After what feels like an eternity, it’s finally here: New Year’s Eve. As long as they make it to midnight and the new year proper without anyone finding out, this whole ridiculous farce is over, and they can be the couple they’ve technically already been since October. Emma and Killian, Killian and Emma - but more than they had been before. 
They’d spent Christmas together - not that that was anything unusual. With everyone else going to visit family, the two of them often spend the day together, eating take-out Chinese and watching holiday movies. Killian’s got a brother back in England that he makes sure to call, and some years Liam will fly over, but Killian usually saves his visits for summer vacation, when he can stay in whatever little English hamlet his brother calls home for weeks at a time. There’s always something nice about spending the holidays together, just the two of them, but it was extra special this year. Who knew Emma was the kind of girl who wanted to trade kisses under the Christmas tree between swapping gifts?
(Killian, apparently - but then again, he’s always claimed to know her better than she knows herself.)
“Just a few more hours,” he murmurs against her neck, twining his arms about her waist from behind as Emma carefully brushes on mascara. “Few more hours, and then it’s all in the open.”
“Thank god for that, too. After all the PDA we’ve gotten from certain people all these years, I’m looking forward to rubbing it in their faces a bit.”
They carpool to Mary Margaret and David’s, just like they do every year. It’s routine, really; Emma always crashes at Killian’s after the annual New Year’s Eve party so that someone is there to help her with the hangover in the morning. Killian makes better hashbrowns than anyone she knows - even Granny - and they always manage to pull her out of the worst of her misery. He’s good about taking care of her, too, with water and Advil and making sure to shut all the shades as tightly as possible. They even share a bed a lot of years; it’s just that tonight, Emma knows there will be a lot fewer clothes involved.
They drink. They eat. They mingle. Sometimes, they’re together, carefully not touching, and sometimes they drift apart. That’s how this party usually works, after all - and Emma is nothing if not committed to seeing this entire thing through, pretending nothing is different this year, that she and Killian definitely aren’t together. Nothing to see here, folks.
God, she’s so fucking lucky he didn’t cut and run once it became obvious just how much of a competitive lunatic Emma is.
Finally, though, it’s the moment - less than a minute left. Killian is already waiting for her by the patio doors, just like he promised. Emma is only too happy to wind her way over there, grinning when she finally finds herself in front of her boyfriend - about to be secret no longer. Behind them, the assembled drunken crowd loudly counts down the last seconds of the year. They keep their hands determinedly to themselves - just as agreed, so no one can try and claim anything happened before the strike of the new year - but Killian still looks at her with that twinkle in his eyes and wiggling eyebrows. It’s anticipation, and excitement, and a good bit of joy - knowing that soon, this will all be out in the open. No more keeping their hands to themselves. 
“You ready for this, love?” he says just loud enough for her to hear as the clock hits ten seconds. 
“Hell yeah,” she grins back - because she is. She so is. This has been a long time coming - years in the making, really - and you know what? The whole secrecy may have helped her wrap her head around the whole thing, as well as win her the pot, but she’s ready to take it public. Maybe rub it in everyone’s faces just how happy she is and how she did this on her own schedule. Why the hell not?
Cheers erupt all around them, and Emma’s grin stretches to something that almost hurts her face. Killian looks much the same. “Happy New Year, love,” he says, finally pulling her towards him by the hips. “I think it’ll be our best one yet.”
Fireworks are going on outside, lighting up the snow on the ground, but Emma can’t be bothered to pay attention - not when Killian attacks her lips with purpose, grinning happily into the kiss before she insistently deepens it, slipping her tongue into his mouth to play. It’s just another in a series of kisses, they know - but it’s more than that. It’s a display, in the best way, declaring them them.
Emma and Killian. Killian and Emma. A pair, a unit, a couple. 
“HA!” shrieks someone across the room as their make-out finally gains attention. Emma thinks it might be Ruby - though, at this point, it might be Mary Margaret. Maybe both. It’s definitely Ruby who materializes just as Emma and Killian finally break apart with a laugh. “It’s about fucking time!”
“Yeah,” Emma agrees - something that seems to short-circuit Ruby’s brain for a moment, if that look on her face is anything to go by. “It really was. And you know what else?”
Ruby shakes her head mutely, that twist of her eyebrows demonstrating that she’s still trying to get her bearings about what the fuck is happening here.
“It’s the new year. That pot is mine.”
“That’s my girl,” Killian whispers in her ear.
Best. New Year’s. Ever.
———
On January 1st of the new year, Emma and Killian - Killian and Emma - they, them, a pair, a unit, a couple take their six hundred dollars in winnings and treat themselves to a goddamn massive lunch at Granny’s. Together. In public. Because they deserve it. 
Grilled cheese has never tasted so good to Emma - especially the crumbs off the corners of Killian’s lips. 
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lifewithlala · 4 years ago
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Useful and practical advice for everyone starting college
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So... Yes, I graduated! To celebrate this, I thought it would be a good idea to pass on some knowledge to those new students starting college this year (I feel like a Senpai). If it was difficult for me, I cannot fathom how much difficult it's going to be for you guys starting this year with all the things happening around the world. So good luck and I hope this really helps you out!
Try to get along with everyone. Look, prior to entering college I was asocial AF. It's not that I was shy, I just didn't like hanging out with people. However, my time in college taught me that interaction IS a very important part of life. I will be forever thankful to my classmates, who approached me on my first day (I entered college mid-year with no experience in business or economics. I was completely clueless). They were very nice to me and tried their best to explained how the school works, what classes we will be taking, what the professors and exams are like and such. Without their help, I would have had a harder time trying to get used to college. Truth is, you WILL need help at several points in college. And if you're not on good terms with anyone, who will be willing to help you? No one. So don't be a jerk and try your best to be nice and genuine with everyone in the class.
Help your classmates. Just as you will need help, your classmates will also need help. Don't wait for them to ask you for help. Offer to help them if you can! This can help you make friends or find new study buddies. Do not underestimate the power of helping others. When you help people with something, it is very likely that they will help you back when you need to. They might even recommend you for a job or internship position just because you helped them.
Find one or two study buddies. Study buddies will make studying more bearable. The study material that you will get in college is nothing compared to high school. So having a few study buddies that can help you make summaries, explain and work together on assignments will make studying much easier! I remember I had a study buddy for one of my minors in which we had to learn 16 chapters. We divided the summary workload and took turns explaining the chapters we each summarized. We literally cut the study time in half because of this!
Keep in contact with your classmates and professors. Chances are you will be separated for some time during minors, study abroad programs or internships. But that doesn't mean you have to lose contact with them. I'm not saying you have to chat with them every day. But contacting them once in awhile is good. I have been able to help some of my classmates with some subjects and applications. I have also become one of my professor's running buddies. So keep in touch because you never know what good you can give and what good it might bring you!
Be persistent. I have had instances were my school coach has ghosted me AND the school completely. Putting my internship and thesis at risk. Shit happens. And when you see things taking a turn for the ugly, fight back with all you got to get things back on track. The truth is, college is a business. And it will continue with or without you. A bit toxic, yes. However, it is up to you to not let things go south! Take action. Contact your professor when needed. Contact the administration. Contact management. Be persistent!
Plan as soon as possible. Don't wait for the first class to get your curriculum and then plan a week later. Download the curriculum BEFORE going to that first class. Plan BEFORE  going to the class. Bombard your professor with questions regarding the curriculum on the first day. Make changes accordingly. Execute that plan ASAP. Your worst enemy is time. But your best friend is also time. The sooner you start, the more prepared you will be for your exams. Read more about how I plan here.
Don't say "yes" to everything. Yes, I am guilty of this one. I learn fast. I'm young. I have lots of energy. I can do whatever I put my mind to. WRONG. This kind of thinking led me to severe burnout. I was helping my parents in their business. I was doing a full-time internship. I started my own business and had 9 clients. I was training for a marathon. Shit went down horribly at some point. I'm glad I went through that burnout because it taught me the importance and necessity to be balanced in life. And that my ability to say no is sometimes more important than my ability to say yes.
College is more than just learning theory. Look, classes are not the thing you should focus on solely in college. If there's anything more important than classes, I would say is your ability to network and leverage this to get experience in the field. That is what college is about. College opens so many opportunities, not because of what they teach, but because of the resources that you are able to get. I'm not saying go slack on your classes, but keep in mind that a lot of times, people don't hire because you have a perfect GPA.
Have a plan to be smart with your money AND stick with it. I had a plan to be smart with my money. And I did so for 3 years. But in my fourth year... I fucked up. Guys... stick to your financial plan and avoid goddamn headaches. Learn about budgeting,
Do not pull all-nighters. If anything all-nighters made me perform worse. Also, they completely messed up my sleeping schedule, which in return messed up my entire schedule. As a result, I would stress out because I was behind schedule and I did not have the energy to catch up. Guys, do not underestimate the power of a good night's sleep.
Time batching will be your best friend. Having a set day to do similar tasks is honestly, one of the best ways to work. One day I would do all my homework for the week. The other day I would only study. One day I would do all of my house chores etc. It's much simpler and effective this way.
Having a study routine will actually help you to pull a miracle. A lot of people swear by a morning or night routine. I swear by a study/ work routine. For real... why aren't work routines more common? Once I start my routine, my brain knows its time to work and study and will not get distracted. You can read about my study routine more in detail here.
You will get fat pretty fast, so exercise. You will not have a lot of time on your hands. You no longer have breaks to play sports, you don't need to go to gym class, you probably have a car now. Your sedentary life will pretty much begin in college. And because you have the money you will start eating out or order takeout. So EAT WELL AND WORKOUT. I realized that the weeks I ate healthily, were also the weeks I was more energized. So do these 2 things religiously.
Don't be too uptight. Relax and have fun. If you're the type A, teacher's pet kind of student... don't be afraid to loosen up a little bit. After my burnout episode I understood the importance of having fun once in awhile. Turns out that going to parties, clubs, having girls night out is a fun experience and you'll look back at those memories with fond!
Start applying for internships as soon as possible. THIS. Honestly. Apply early. Finding an internship position isn't hard. But finding the right internship place that will allow you to grow and learn and at the same time get along with the culture is MUCH MUCH MUCH harder! So take your time finding an internship. Go to as many interviews as you can. Don't accept the first internship position because it's the first you got. Look at it objectively and talk to others that work in that company. I had the opportunity to work for 2 days under the guidance of another intern before saying yes. Ask for a similar opportunity so you can test the waters before accepting the internship offer.
Taking care of yourself is harder than you think. Develop a routines. Stick to those routines. Develop a personal hygiene routine. A workout routine. Eat healthy. These things are easier said than done. Constantly work on these things. If you let one fall, others will start falling too. Self care is a work in progress so never stop improving yourself no matter how many deadlines you have!
Older students are a godsend. If you want to hear a goddamn unbiased opinion, please refer to an older student. The administration or professor might tell you a process or application goes a certain way, but the older students that went through it, know better as they literally had to go through it. The advice they will give you will be more practical than the advice the professors can give you. So listen to them carefully. They will also be able to help you with tips for exams, summaries or explaining. So be friends with them too!
Get a mentor. I was lucky enough to find 2 excellent mentors in my college journey. I became good friends with one of my professors, and she was the one that taught me all I know about personal investing. Honestly, she was the real MVP. Amazing professor, explanations were top notch, and really enjoyed her work. The second one, was my thesis coach. She helped me built my business and her expertise in the field helped me a lot in starting up. Don't be afraid to ask your professors or experts in the field to help you get started! Sometimes, they are eager to pass what they know unto someone. You got nothing to lose!
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justasparkwritings · 4 years ago
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Illicit Affairs: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 1
Previous: You Made Me
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Pairings: Namjoon & Reader (Barely)
Genre: Angst, Slice of Life 
Ratings: PG15
Word Count: 2.7K
Warnings: Therapy and Swearing 
Summary: Namjoon arrives in LA to begin the work he promised he would do. 
Listen: illicit affairs by Taylor Swift
           Namjoon lays in his plane-bed, headphones blasting D-2, Daechwita, on a blind loop. The sky is dark, 30,000+ feet in the air, he knows he should be sleeping, resting at the bare minimum. But he can’t, melatonin not kicking in just yet, and his mind is too wired, filled with concerns.
           Over a two months ago, after the reckoning, Namjoon put his plans into action. You can’t take managements King, and Queen, and bishops and rooks, without having a plan for total annihilation. Namjoon decided, though without much discussion with Jungkook, what they both needed. What would be the best for both of them, and the rest of Bangtan, was guarantees in their contracts that Bang and Co wouldn’t manipulate them anymore. No more calorie counting, no more extra pay for working out more, no more using Namjoon as a weapon against Jungkook or the others. To do this, Namjoon brought in other lawyers who negotiated with Bang’s team, and in the end the seven men amended their contracts. Gone were the clauses about who they could date, gone was the clause that they couldn’t date, period, gone was Run BTS and the trickery management went through to get the men to perform. They would have ownership of their work going forward, and ownership of their work all the way back to the first Love Yourself album.
           Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok, Yoongi and Jin were shocked when their contracts were handed back, careful to read through the changes. They’d been floored, wondering how Namjoon and Jungkook’s brawl could’ve resulted in this swift change in their deals. Namjoon had put it simply: change or we sue. Big Hit knew that if BTS sued them, they’d take the house, the plastic plants in the lobby, the stock options and the futures of every person on the label. They had the option to lose everything, or to surrender, tails between their legs, to the gods that are BTS.
           Namjoon knew that if this had happened three months prior, even two years, he wouldn’t have had the weight needed to push the deal through. But, in their decade plus at Big Hit, their level of power and influence, the fact that they had never signed NDA’s coupled with Namjoon’s intricate diaries, Namjoon recognized he had the power to take everything. Bang and Sejin were scared. They knew that they had a limited amount of time before BTS revolted, and if they were revolting with evidence, there was no possible solution that ended in Big Hit’s favor.
           With their new contracts came one request from Bang, Sejin and the five other members of Bangtan, one request that was truly a demand: fix Jungkook and Namjoon.
           Fixing Jungkook meant fixing Namjoon’s relationship to the maknae, which is how he finds himself flying across the globe to LA. Getting Jungkook help, away from prying eyes, was his idea. He and his love had brainstormed what would help Jungkook get through this, and this was the solution:
Jungkook would spend 3-6 months in LA undergoing rigorous outpatient therapy
Jungkook would be booked for exhaustion, body dysmorphia, alcoholism, and a host of other issues Namjoon could’ve spent his entire flight listing
Jungkook would rehearse in LA and fly back for specific stages but would otherwise record and work in LA while he went to therapy five days a week
Detox would come first, followed by a month of inpatient treatment
Then, Jungkook would be settled in his outpatient apartment, with a few Big Hit bodyguards around 24/7
Jungkook would have a sponsor in Korea and in the states, whom he reported to,
Jungkook is required to attend AA meetings twice a week for the first three months
Namjoon, would attend therapy twice a week in Korea,
Namjoon would fly to LA to spend a month going through treatment with Jungkook
           To this, they signed their names, to the promise of something better, to the hope they would find common ground. Jungkook was packed and on a plane 48 hours later. The two men had some contact through music and through their group chat, but otherwise, Jungkook kept to himself. He loved LA, the sun, the ability to exercise outside every day of the week, the blue skies… There was a level of health that came with LA, and of course the seedy underbelly of diet culture, but for Jungkook, it was a welcome change. Everyone breathed in LA, they weren’t rushing to meet deadlines or get anywhere on time, they didn’t have the next five years planned on a detailed spreadsheet. LA was relaxed, it was breezy, and with its endless supply of green juice, it was the exact place Jungkook needed to be.
           He diligently went to therapy, working exclusively with Dr. Aarons on the years of abuse he’d endured. Wrapping his mind around what had happened to him, not as love, not as building his character or strengthening his work ethic, but as a traumatic state of emotional abuse, was harder to swallow than two horse tranquilizers without water. Dr. Aarons gave him books and pamphlets on trauma and emotional abuse, which in his off hours, he read. His first month in treatment was spent in therapy sessions, a weekly Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) session, monitored exercise to help reteach him how to use his body, and reading to discuss. Some days felt like high school, or training days, when he was required to both train for debut and be a high school student. He hated it, hated studying, hated school, but to get better he had to do the work. All he could hope was at the end of this he’d feel better, maybe he'd be better too.  
           Dr. Aaron’s agreed, for the two men to make progress, to find common ground again, they needed to work through their Kilimanjaro sized problems.
           A month into treatment, Jungkook was ready and willing to begin working on repairing his most treasured relationship.
           “Namjoon, thank you for joining us here,” Dr. Aarons says, eyes darting between Jungkook, who was freshly showered and bouncing his leg up and down, and Namjoon, stoic, perched on the edge of his chair. Dr. Aarons can tell that Namjoon is less prepared than Jungkook, which is why she is in full control of this session.
           “It’s, yeah, glad to be here,” Namjoon says, head bowing.
           “I am first generation and am fluent in both English and Korean. My maiden name is Park,” Dr. Aarons smiles, letting Namjoon into her stratification of both cultures. “We can flow from English to Korean at any point.”
           “Thank you,” Namjoon bows again.
           “This first session is just to create a welcoming and safe space for Jungkook to see you again. Soon he will be off, and you and I will have a bit of time to talk. I have been in communication with your therapist back in Seoul, and he has given me his thoughts as well as points that we can continue to work on as a triad. Jungkook, is there something you wanted to say to Namjoon before you go?”
           Jungkook looks at his brother, irises rising to meet his sun-twin. Namjoon’s eyes are tired, heavy, his lids weighty as he continues to battle some jetlag. Jungkook looks fucking fantastic, the sun and balanced eating working wonders on him.
           “Thank you, hyung, for being here, and thank you for being willing to work on this with me. I still hold love for you in my heart, though I don’t have to. We’ve both fucked up. I am sorry for punching you, well, beating you up, and I hope you can forgive me, if not today, at some point. And again, thank you, hyung, for fighting for me,” Jungkook’s voice breaks as he utters his last words, eyes dropping to his hands.
           “Jungkook, you did great,” Dr. Aarons reassures.
           “Thank you, Jungkookie, for being, forgiving, for still wanting to speak to me, to work with me, it,” Namjoon clears his throat, that familiar lump forming. “I know I let you down. I will always be sorry,”
           “I know, me too,”
           “Jungkook, thank you for being here today. I will see you tomorrow for our first session as a group.” Dr. Aaron’s gave the go-ahead for Jungkook to leave, and he did swiftly, giving Namjoon the chance to confide in Dr. Aarons.
           “Thank you, for doing this,” Namjoon spoke.
           “This was your idea, correct? The therapy, detox, all of it?”
           “Yes,” Namjoon feels the blood rush to his cheeks.
           “From what I understand, you’re kind of a genius, right?”
           “In music, I suppose,”
           Reaching for her notepad, Dr. Aarons’ glances down. “Mm, I spoke with Dr. Cho,”
           “Yes?”
           “He was very insightful, gave me lots of great notes and things to discuss. I wanted to start by saying that I understand the levels of abuse you went through,” She raises her head to meet his unsteady gaze, clocking the flustered expression.
           “Yes,”
           “The manipulation, the invalidation, the pain. Namjoon, no one should have to experience all of that, and yet, here you are. You are strong, you are powerful, you are dedicated to your brothers. None of it excuses what you have done, but what I want to convey to you, is that a lot of your actions were not your fault.” Dr. Aarons’ runs through the list of compliments she had jotted down, notes of what to say to create a safe space for Namjoon.
           “I, I know,”
           “I know you do; I also know that isn’t how you see it.” Dr. Aarons’ sets her pen down and recrossed her legs, eyes never straying from him. She’s formidable, honored and esteemed throughout the community, domestically and abroad. Namjoon knew, he helped picked her, she was the reason Jungkook was here.
           “I still did the actions,” Namjoon sighs, “I still followed through with the plan,”
           “Yes, but the cost to you and your life was exquisite. You were a pawn,”
           “Now I am the victor,” He mumbles.
           “Tell me, Namjoon, how old did you feel when you and Jungkook fought?”
           “What do you mean?”
           “Jungkook’s recounted his memory of that night, but how did you feel? In that moment when he hit you, what age specifically did you feel?”
           He takes a moment to think, but the answer is in front of him immediately. “Fifteen,”
           “What happened at 15?”
           He shifts nervously, the rapid speed of his speech slowing as he spoke. “I was still being scouted by Big Hit, no contracts, just negotiations. My parents were, unsupportive.”
           “Within the Seoul rap community, you were making a name for yourself,” Dr. Aarons’ didn’t have to be living in Korea at the time to know who he was, everyone in the first gen community who still had any ties back home knew. You couldn’t listen to music without his mixes coming through.            “Yeah, but that only gets you so far. I was talking to Bang about these big plans for a super group, a group that combined rapping and pop, some bridge between the two and other genres… the places were going to go seemed endless.”
           “How did you feel in those negotiations?”
           Joon smiles. “I felt, ten feet tall. I mattered in those meetings,”
           “And to your parents?” Dr. Aaron’s questions.
           “I was just their high schooler, hormonal, with dreams bigger than my mind could hold. They, they didn’t want me to do it,”
           “But you went for it,” She smiles gently.
           “I did, yeah,” Namjoon, hates flattery. Call it his sun sensibility, his rays unable to shine under the humility of the grey cloud he kept above himself.
           “What else happened around that time?” She presses.
           Namjoon nods again, knowing exactly where she’s leading him. “That’s when I started receiving a lot of hate,”
           “Mm, tell me about that,”
           “Do I have to?” He asks, voice no longer strong and steady.
           “Not if you don’t want to,” She replies.
           “It’s just,” Namjoon sighs. “It still hurts.”
           “I expect it to. The comments were very personal,”
           “About how I look, about the shape of my nose, the sound of my voice, that I’ll never amount to anything and BTS is just, complete trash passing off as music.” He rattles off the ones that plague him, when self-doubt creeps in, the comments that still rise to the top of the pack.
           “They escalated, didn’t they?”
           “Don’t they always?”
           She smiles softly, a precursor to the next blow. “Did you internalize them?”
           “Yes,”
           “When Jungkook hit you,” She starts.
           “It was like every internet troll finally getting their chance to swing,” Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to finish the thought.
           “Ahh, there it is.” Dr. Aaron’s allows Namjoon a minute to sit in the realization. “What hurt the most? The physical pain, or the emotional weight you put behind it?”
           “I haven’t thought about it like that,” He realizes.
           “Well let’s think about it now,” Her voice is kind, leading him to the pasture but never feeding. No wonder everyone raved about her.
           “It was the emotions,” He concedes.
           “Can you describe what those emotions were?”
           “Anger, frustration, inadequacy, disappointment, like I had just shattered the entire world I’d given every bit of myself to creating.”
           “That wasn’t why Jungkook was hitting you, though,” Dr. Aarons’ informs him.
           “It wasn’t?”
           “You tell me, why would he be hitting you?”
           “I,” Namjoon exhales, “I betrayed him.”
           “Did you let him down?”
           “Yes,”
           “But did he view you as inadequate?” She pushes.
           “No,” Namjoon whispers, voice caught between his vocal chords as the waves of tears start to gain on him.
           Dr. Aarons’ smiles again, “No, has he ever?”
           “No,” Namjoon shakes his head, hand wiping the tears that have fallen.
           “It seems to me like it’s quite the opposite. Jungkook loves you, pure and simple.”
           “I betrayed him,” Namjoon argues.
           “Betrayal and inadequacy are often put together, at least in our minds. We betray someone, or a relationship, because it’s either not enough for us, or because it’s too much. The dissonance between you and Jungkook is that his anger is misplaced, he can claw at you because you are there, you are present, you are with him every day. He’s shooting the messenger, but you didn’t write the messages, Namjoon.”
           “I don’t know if he understands that,”
           “There’s only so much I can do to separate what he feels towards you, and what he realizes isn’t your fault. In our time together, as a trio, we will hopefully work towards understanding these complexities within your relationship. Sound good?”
           “Yeah, sounds good,”
           “Great! I don’t have any work for you, other than, well, a major piece of homework,”
           ���Bring it on,” Namjoon loves work. Pure and simple.
           “You can’t have dinner with Jungkook tonight, or engage with him in a private setting,” Dr. Aarons’ instructs.
           “Makes sense,” Namjoon agrees.
           “We’ll begin work on it tomorrow, but until then, you have to stay apart,”
           “I can do that, we’re staying in separate places,”
           “Great, Namjoon, I am really looking forward to working with you,” Dr. Aarons stands. “I hope you enjoy your day in LA,”
           “See you tomorrow,” Namjoon smiles gratefully before exiting her office, his phone at the ready, texts from Yoongi and Hoseok, Taehyung and the rest of Bangtan to check in on him. And then there’s the text from his love, who as he steps into the sun, is waiting for him.
           “Joon of my eye, what a pleasure it is to see you,”
           Though the smile is clearly plastered across his face, it’s the way his arms circle your waist, head nuzzling into your neck, lips pressing firmly to your skin.
           “I fucking missed you,” He mutters.
           “You’re being so affectionate, in public,”
           “No one’s here,” Namjoon says, head still resting against your shoulder.
           “That eye opening, huh?” Your hands move up and down his back, the comfort radiating from your familiar embrace.
           “Mm, can we go?” He asks, standing to his full height.
           “To your place?”
           “Anywhere,” He slips his sunglasses over his eyes, the mist beginning to cloud his vision.
           “Of course,” You respond, hand finding his, fingers intertwining. With his baseball cap pulled low on his head, Namjoon is barely recognizable. He doesn’t hesitate to move his free hand across your shoulders, holding onto you as you guide him to your rental car. He might’ve been the messenger of Bang’s threats and manipulations, but a pawn is still a pawn. Namjoon had taken the board in his game against Big Hit, but in Jungkook’s universe, under Jungkook’s rules, he’s still a piece in motion.  
Next: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 2
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lyssismagical · 4 years ago
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coffee, rainbow pins, and middle school gossip
Parkner Week Day Seven: “13-year-olds are the meanest people in the world” / middle school / jealousy
 Being a teacher hadn’t really been Peter’s plan for his career until he got to his senior year and he got his school-mandatory volunteer hours at the elementary public school and he loved how teaching made him feel.
He’s always loved kids. When he was twelve, he started babysitting for the other tenants in the building for much cheaper than any other babysitter, but enough to get the good pizza every couple weeks.
Later, he spent his summers as a Camp Counselor to make some money and to have something to do all summer, out of May’s hair and giving May a chance to save up money without having his mouth to feed.
He didn’t really think much about it until MJ asked him to start reading to children at the library with her. Apparently, she thinks she doesn’t have a soothing enough voice to read for hours on end, but he reads a lot out loud at school and during Academic Decathlon, and she says his voice is nice and he likes kids enough to hang out with them all day.
And now, as a twenty-four-year-old graduate, he’s got a job as a middle school substitute teacher. He wants to one day be a permanent teacher for a younger grade, but he’s happy being a teacher.
Until he finds out how cruel middle schoolers are.
He gets it, the Science teacher at the school is pretty good looking.
Mister Keener is a young, single guy who’s genuinely smart and passionate. He’s a few years older than Peter, and he’s objectively handsome, but Peter isn’t interested. (He’s totally interested, he can barely keep his eyes off the science teacher whenever he sees him in the Teacher’s Lounge, but that’s not anybody’s business.)
His students seem to have one goal in life. To get Peter and Mister Keener together.
“Have your kids been saying anything?” Peter asks. He watches Harley as he laughs, brewing a pot of coffee. “I was subbing for the phys-ed class and they wouldn’t stop.”
“Yeah, I hear about Mister Parker more than anything these days.”
Harley grabs two mugs from the cupboard above the coffee machine and pours them both a coffee, adding the number of creams and sugar to Peter’s that he likes which makes Peter feel incredibly warm and giddy, and then he sits down across from Peter, passing him his coffee.
“I know! Angela, you know her, I think she’s in your science class period two, she literally talked you up to me for the entire hour yesterday. I tried to tell her that it wasn’t appropriate to talk about it with me, but she wouldn’t listen.”
The science teacher laughs again, bright and warm. “Yeah, she went on and on about you. Apparently, you’re really smart when it comes to English.”
“That’s thanks to my friend, MJ, she was really good at English and reading, and she kinda got me into a lot of it. We still have biweekly book clubs.”
“I’m not super into reading, but my little sister is. I-”
The door to the Teacher’s Lounge is pushed open, with a few knocks. It’s not a teacher who stands there though.
“Harry!” Peter exclaims, shooting out of his chair. He races over to throw himself into Harry’s awaiting arms with a squeal. “I thought you weren’t coming to visit for another couple weeks!”
“I’ve got a long weekend off and figured I couldn’t wait to come see you,” Harry explains quickly, arms tight around Peter’s waist.
There’s an awkward cough from behind them that has Peter spinning around, pulling Harry with him back to his table.
“Harry, this is Harley Keener, the science teacher here. Harley, this is an old friend of mine, Harry Osborn. He’s getting his masters abroad so he can’t visit very often.”
The teacher stretches out a hand to shake Harry’s, offering a polite smile with a murmured nice to meet you before he’s draining the rest of his coffee and standing.
“I should be getting back to class early to set up for the lab. I’ll see you later,” Harley says, offering one last smile before he’s out of the teacher’s lounge.
As soon as he’s gone, Harry leans in closer. “Is he the guy you’ve been crushing on these past couple months?”
“He’s the guy who our students have been harassing me about for the last couple months,” Peter corrects before he admits, “Yeah, I’ve totally been crushing on him. He’s so nice and smart and hot. Can you blame me?”
“You should go for it.”
Peter rolls his eyes, sitting down at the table and gesturing for Harry to sit down with him. “I don’t even know if he’s into guys, or if he has a rule against dating coworkers, or if he’s taken.”
“One, I can’t believe you didn’t notice the rainbow pin on his bag. Two, this isn’t going to be your job much longer. You’re going to get that teaching position at the elementary school. And three, he wouldn’t be staring at you like that if he was taken.”
“Have you met me, Osborn? I don’t have the guts to ask him out.”
Harry rolls his eyes right back. “Have it your way and lose your chances with the greatest looking guy in all of Manhattan, second only to you.”
“Shut up,” Peter says with no heat to his words. “We’ll see.”
* Harley’s acting weird the next couple days.
He doesn’t say as much, and he’s downright pouty for most of their lunches together, frowning down at his food whenever Peter rambles about anything.
Harry starts picking him up from the school, so they no longer have that half hour window to chat while Peter waits for the bus. And Peter catches Harley practically glaring when Peter slides into Harry’s convertible.
After a week of these strange interactions, Peter finally caves and pulls one of his students aside after class.
“I know I really shouldn’t be asking you, but has Mister Keener said anything about me lately.”
Katie grins mischievously, beckoning a few of her friends over. “Why? You want him to be talking about you?”
Liam and Emily giggle, leaning into each other behind Katie.
“No!” Peter gasps, shaking his head quickly. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“He was acting pretty weird last week,” Aryssa pipes up shyly from where she’s still sitting at her desk. “Quiet, graded our test pretty harshly. He gave a couple people detentions when they wouldn’t stop talking about you.”
“Really? And he didn’t say why he was acting weird?”
Liam rolls his eyes. “No, why would he tell his students why he was acting weird? Most of the time, teachers don’t talk this candidly with their students.”
“Well, I’m not going to be teaching here much longer hopefully. And I’m a substitute.” It doesn’t entirely justify it, but the students seem more excited than annoyed by him talking about his private life. It’s what they’ve been asking him to do for months anyway.
The bell rings, making Peter jump. “Okay, dismissed, get to class. Don’t tell him I asked you about him.”
Katie and Emily snicker, looping their arms together before racing out the door.
Peter knows he won’t be able to trust them.
It still surprises him when Harley stops him in the hallway after the school’s cleared out at the end of the day.
“So, I heard some interesting gossip,” Harley starts.
“Did you?”
Harley laughs, bag swaying at his side. Peter takes note of the rainbow pin. “Katie, Liam, and Emily told me you were asking about me. Asked them if I’d been talking about you.”
“Thirteen-year-olds are the meanest people in the world, I swear… It’s just- you’ve been acting weird lately. Like I did something wrong. I was concerned.”
Harley sighs and he sinks to the floor, leaning against the lockers. Peter hesitates before sliding to the ground beside him, shoulders knocking.
“Can I be honest?” Harley asks, frowning down at his hands. “I really like you, but I get it, you’re taken, I’m not going to be upset about that, I just got a little bit jealous of him.”
“Of who? I’m not-” Peter blows out a breath. “Harry.”
Harley’s eyes go wide, sad. “I’m not mad at you and I really do want to stay friends, and I wouldn’t mind getting to know him better too-”
“I’m not with Harry!” His voice comes out shaky and too loud. “I mean, we did date once, like forever ago, back in high school, but we decided we were better off as friends, and that’s all we are now. I liked you, but I didn’t think you were into me, especially after last week.”
Harley lets out a laugh verging on hysterical. “I’m so sorry. I saw you with Harry, and I just jumped to conclusions. But if you haven’t been totally turned away by my jealousy, I’d love to take you out for coffee?”
“I’d love that, yeah. Harry’s picking me up if you wanna take up the offer of getting to know my best friend a little better? We could get coffee the three of us while he’s still in town, and then we could get dinner, just the two of us, on the weekend?”
“Sounds like a fantastic plan.”
Taglist:@littlemissagrafina  @spidey-reids-2003 @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed  @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10 @justme--emily  @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}
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p-artsypants · 4 years ago
Text
Integrity- Chapter 8
Ao3 | FF.net
Monday morning rolled around with a cool, all encasing fog. The gray mist that settled in between buildings, blotting out sunlight, and casting a refreshing coolness on everything blanketed underneath it.
It was glum.
Ladybug had escorted Gabriel to the police last night, as they had planned. Though he was drunk, Gabriel was well behaved. This allowed Ladybug to convince the Police to stay quiet about his arrest. Of course, it was inevitable that the media would catch wind of it, and it would be all over the news. 
But she just wanted to have a few days to prepare to announce it herself, and to give Adrien some time with his mother. 
He hadn’t come home last night, not that she expected him too. He may be gone for the rest of the week. Maybe longer. She couldn’t blame him for staying away. 
She just missed him already.
“Hey Marinette,” Alya greeted warmly. “Where’s Sunshine? He’s gotta get rid of this fog!” 
“Yeah dude, where’s my dawg?” Said Nino. 
Marinette smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. How much truth could she spare? This was Rena Rouge and Carapace after all. Surely they were trustworthy. Would Adrien mind?
“Um…he’s with his mother.” 
Nino and Alya just stared at her, dawning horror creeping on their faces. 
“He’s dead?”
“No!” Marinette scrambled to explain. “No, no…We found his mother yesterday. Well, he found her a few days ago, but we couldn’t do anything about it until last night.” 
Alya blinked a few times. “Okay girl, you lost me. You often lose me, but this is like—a whole other dimension. Can ya back up a touch?”
“I’ll tell you guys everything after school, but you have to promise me not to tell anyone.” She leaned closer. “This is just as secret, or even more so, as your secret identities.” 
Alya rapidly blinked again. “Wh-what?! What are you—how do you—What!?”
“That’s all I’m saying for now.”
“You can’t just leave us there!” 
“That’s all that’s safe to say here. Just...just trust me. Okay?” 
Alya took a long breath. They’d been through this before. Her trust was constantly being tested by Marinette. The absences, the tardiness, the forgetful ‘oh I have to go water my hamster’ ness. “Girl...I did trust you. But...are you going to finally explain what’s going on?” 
“Yes. I’ll tell you everything. If you’ll just be patient with me.” 
Alya exhaled, her shoulders relaxing. “Okay. I think that’s worth it.” 
They travelled together upstairs and into the classroom, where several other students milled about quietly. It seemed they hadn’t recovered from the turmoil from last week. 
Faces turned to her, weak smiles in place. Sincere enough, but lacking luster. She didn’t really blame them. She felt like that too. 
After some time, Miss Bustier arrived, and settled everyone in their seats. 
And then there was a knock at the door. 
“Come in.” 
Miss Bustier invited in the devil, and the mother of the devil. 
Lila. Lila was here. 
“Hello, Madam Rossi, are you vouching for Lila’s tardiness?” 
“On the contrary,” the woman said coldly. “Lila won’t be attending your class anymore, or this school, for that matter. But before we leave, I wanted to make sure she apologized to those she wronged.”
My my, what an interesting turn of fate. Lila stood in front, arms crossed, and full of spite. 
“Where’s Mr. Agreste?” Madam Rossi asked. 
“He’s not here,” Marinette supplied. “He’s visiting family.” 
“Ha!” Said Lila. “That proves it! If he wasn’t guilty, he’d be here!” 
“Hush, Lila. I’ve heard enough from you.” Her mother spat. “You, what’s your name?” He looked at Marinette. 
“Uh, Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” 
“Marinette—first of all, I want to apologize to you and your mother. She called me with concerns and I blew her off. In fact, I didn’t know there were any problems until I received a court summons at my workplace. Not only was my daughter lying to me about her after school activities, but she lied about the school being closed to take an extended vacation!” 
There were scoffs of disgust from around the room. 
“Mama...” Lila whined. 
“I said be quiet, child. Your lying has gotten too far out of control and I’ve had enough of it. It’s time your friends knew the truth. And you’re going to tell them. Now.” 
Lila swallowed. “Um...I didn’t actually go with my mother abroad for several months. I was at home. I told her the principal was akumatized and the school was closed.” 
“Now, about Marinette?” 
Lila groaned. “Marinette was right. I didn’t bully her at all. I made all that stuff up...” 
“And regarding Adrien Agreste?” 
“Adrien...never touched me. I lied. I was mad because I was fired from Gabriel for harassing Adrien.” 
“Anything else you want to get off your chest?” 
“No.” 
“Well, that’s a shame.” Madam Rossi huffed. “What do you have to say to Marinette?” 
“...I’m sorry.” 
“For?” 
“For lying.” 
“Not good enough, Lila. Try again.”
Lila hissed, like apologizing was actually, physically painful. “I’m sorry for tattling on you to your mom. And I’m sorry for trying to get you expelled.” 
Marinette pushed her luck. “...and for turning my friends against me?” 
“AND for turning your friends against you.” 
Eh. Good enough. 
“Now, Marinette,” said Madam Rossi. “Lila must apologize to Adrien, but she’s being sent back to Italy right away. Will you record it and make sure he sees it?” 
“Of course, ma’am.” Marinette took out her phone and turned on the camera. “Ready when you are.” 
Madam Rossi nudged her daughter in the ribs. 
“Adrien...I’m sorry I lied about you touching me. I’m sorry I lied to get into modeling with you. And I’m sorry I kissed your cheek without permission...and I'm sorry I spied on you.” With a little shrug, that’s where she ended it. 
Marinette stopped recording and leveled a glare at Lila. “You’re not really sorry, are you? You wouldn’t think anything was wrong if your mom wasn’t here making you apologize.” 
Lila didn’t answer, but her dead-eyed glare spoke volumes. 
“You’re a psychopath.”
“Oh you think you’re so smug! Just because my lies caught up to me first! But you’re just as much as a liar as I am, aren’t you, little miss goody goody?” 
Maybe she was being petty. Maybe it was adrenaline. Or maybe she really didn’t like being called a liar. 
Either way, she held back just long enough to look in her purse. 
Tikki gave her a firm nod. 
Time to be selfish. 
“Tikki, Spots on.” 
In a whirl of pink, Ladybug sat in Marinette’s seat and the room went dead silent. 
Except for Alya, who was making some choked wheezing sounds. 
“Happy now, Lila?” Ladybug said calmly. “Yes, I lied, and flaked, and ditched my friends. I hated every minute of it, but I knew fighting akumas came first, and everything else came second. I couldn’t tell a single soul until Hawkmoth was defeated. Not even my partner.” She leveled her gaze on Lila. “But you? You just lie because you can. You have no plans, you just lie and then lie again when someone calls you out on them. You don’t care. You never cared. All you care about is yourself. That’s the reason you got caught. I chose to reveal my secret because it’s safe now.”
“Shut up!” Lila barked. Then she actually threw a punch at the hero of Paris. 
Naturally, Ladybug dodged it like she had been moving in slow motion. 
“You’re the worst! This whole time I thought there were two stuck up, nosy, holier-than-thou bitches in Paris. But now I see it’s only one. You don’t deserve your fame or your powers! I could have had everything! Popularity! Friends! Adrien! Fame! Even powers like Hawkmoth promised me! But you had to ruin it for me! You always ruin everything! I hate you! I hate you!!” 
“Alright, we’re done.” Said Madam Rossi. She wrapped her arms around Lila, as she continued to wriggle and scream. “I see now that Italy isn’t going to be a good idea either. We’ll find a nice, quiet...resort for you for a little while.” 
But Lila just continued her screaming and kicking. Her mother had to forcibly pull her from the room. 
The door shut with a slam, Lila’s tantrum muffled down the hall. 
And then, Ladybug stood there, keenly aware of the actions she had just made in front of all her classmates. Even Miss Bustier was slack jawed. 
“I expect all of you can keep a secret of this magnitude. It would be best if you never even saw me transform.” 
Still silence. But Marinette dropped her transformation and sat down. 
Alya was the only one able to find a voice. “Why now? What changed?” 
“It’s safe now.” Marinette explained. “Relatively speaking. I’m certain that there’s people out there who still want to hurt me. But if we all keep this to ourselves, I see no harm.” 
“What about Lila?” Asked Alya. 
“Well, she does have a track record for faultless honesty. Who wouldn’t believe her?” Marinette said sarcastically. 
“Safe?” Nino asked, finding his voice. “Safe how?”
It was the sweetest truth in the world. “Chat Noir and I defeated Hawkmoth.” 
The sentence was like electricity, jolting the room with excitement, cheers, and hugs. Students scrambled to hug her in gratitude. 
“How?! When?!” Barked Alya. “There was no akuma! How did this happen!?”
Miss Bustier sat at the edge of her desk, resigned that there would be no learning today, but she really didn’t mind. 
“Espionage.” Marinette said, matter-of-factly. “And to be honest, it was mostly Chat. We just officially arrested him last night.”
“Who was he? How did it happen?! I need details!” Alya nearly screamed and grabbed her by the collar and shook. 
“Alya, calm down.” Marinette laughed. “I’d love to tell you all the details, but…I haven’t told anyone else yet. I have to address the public and write a speech…but I don’t even know where to start…”
Miss Bustier clapped. “Marinette! I have an idea!” 
She looked to her teacher, skeptical. “Yes?”
“A writing assignment for the class. You give us the details, everyone will take notes, and we’ll help you write the speech! It would be an excellent exercise for writing from an interview.” 
Marinette paused, crossing her arms and looking forward towards Adrien’s seat. 
Again, the news about Gabriel was going to be public at some point. If she could get it out quickly before the other media beat her to it, she might be able to manipulate the story in her favor. As angry as she was with Gabriel, his motive was fine, and he showed…remorse? Maybe he could be redeemed and maybe Adrien could have his family back one day. 
“As long as everyone promises to not talk about it to anyone, I don’t mind sharing the details.” 
There was another cheer around the class as everyone gathered their phones and notebooks to take notes. 
Miss Bustier clarified for everyone, “If you’re recording Marinette, the video promptly gets deleted after the assignment is over. It does not get posted on any social media, or get sent to anyone. This is for Marinette’s safety, do you all understand?”
“Yes, Miss Bustier!” Called the class, unanimously. After the dreadful behavior with Lila, no one was eager to get on Marinette’s bad side again.
Marinette stood at the front of the room, recounting what had happened, with the smallest twist of having Chat Noir as a separate character. If someone did blab, Adrien’s identity would be safe. 
“Adrien’s the hero of our story.” She began. “Gabriel Agreste was arrested last night at 10:30, coming peacefully and quietly. On Thursday night, he confided in his son, that he was in fact, Hawkmoth, and that his assistant was Mayura. He disclosed his purpose was to save the life of his wife Emilie, who had fallen mysteriously ill. He was under the assumption that the only cure was using Chat’s and my Miraculous. It is unknown where he got this idea from. Adrien was skeptical enough to flag down Chat Noir as he was doing a late night patrol. He explained the situation to my partner. From there, they waited until Monsieur Agreste went to sleep, before stealing the Miraculous off of him. Chat then delivered the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous to me, and further explained the situation. After consulting my resources, we visited M. Agreste and told him it was likely we could still save his wife without the need for our Miraculous. He then willingly gave himself up and apologized. He has been taken into police custody.” 
“Excuse me, Ladybug,” Alya called out, just like in a real press conference. “What happened to Mayura? Is she in police custody as well?”
“I don’t know about that. The police are aware of her involvement, but she was fired by Gabriel earlier this week. She wasn’t with him when he was arrested.”
“Are you going to go after her?”
“No. She no longer has a Miraculous. This is not a job for us anymore.”
Someone else raised their hand, Nathaniel. “How much do you want us to elaborate on Adrien’s involvement?”
“I only have Adrien’s best interest at heart. While I know he’d rather not be mentioned at all, I think it’s extremely important for the media to know that he was not complicit in his father’s actions.” 
“Where is Adrien now?” Asked Chloe, more out of concern than for the assignment. 
“He is with his mother while she gets treated. I won’t disclose that information to the public.” Then she added as a side note, “but if you want to know, ask me later, Chloe.” 
Chloe just took a relieved sigh and nodded to her. It seemed all the previous animosity between her and Ladybug, or even Marinette, had faded with all this new information. 
“Where are the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous now?” Asked Kim.
“Someplace safe.” Marinette smiled. “There’s no fear of someone else getting a hold of them.” 
“Are Ladybug and Chat Noir retiring now?” Asked Rose, full of emotion.
“Ladybug will continue her patrols, and try to help around the city. I haven’t talked with Chat about what he wants to do.” 
Alya raised her hand again, her eyes shining with excitement. “Any chance of auxiliary heroes getting to join you every once in a while?”
Marinette shrugged. “Perhaps.” There was no reason for them to, but with Gabriel behind bars, there was no reason for them not to. “Any other questions?” 
The class was frantically scribbling down notes, but there were no more raised hands. 
“I have plenty of off the record questions!” Alya called. 
“I’ll answer those later,” Marinette asked. 
“Alright,” began Miss Bustier. “These speeches will be due…Wednesday? Does that work for you, Marinette?”
“That should be perfect.”
“Wonderful. Then I won’t be giving anymore literature homework until then, because I want everyone to focus on this. Please write at least one page, double spaced. But more is fine. Ladybug has the right to edit whichever one she picks.” She glanced at the clock. “Goodness, that was almost the whole hour! I’ll give you the rest of the hour to talk among yourselves.”
While stories don’t typically have a happy ending in real life, Marinette was happy to note that things were working out nicely. The fog remained the rest of the week as Adrien stayed away from Paris. Juleka, of all people, ended up writing the most articulate, emotional, and accurate speech out of the bunch, and Ladybug presented it at a press conference with the Mayor. 
Stories of all sorts of accuracies came out of it from the media, but conspiracies were loudly silenced, as Ladybug’s speech in full was available to everyone. Gabriel had yet to make any statements of his own, but his lack of urgency only lended itself to the official story. 
It was over.
Gabriel’s trial would come in time, and Ladybug and Chat Noir would both be expected to testify, but the fight against Hawkmoth was over. 
Despite revealing herself to her family and classmates, Marinette felt light. Unburdened, and guiltless. The raised grades were a bonus. 
There was just one thing missing.
Adrien.
It had been a week since he stepped into that portal with his mother. He hadn’t taken his phone with him, but she never received a message from his baton. Not even a confirmation that he made it safely. 
After several days of solid dependence and partnership, she missed him terribly.
Then finally, late one night, she awoke to a flash of light on her balcony. She was instantly awake, throwing open the door to investigate. 
Belle Noir stood there, alone, and looking exhausted. 
“Adrien?” She asked softly. 
“Miss me, My Lady?”
“Unbelievably.”
Adrien dismissed his transformation and dragged himself over to her room. 
“So what happened? How is she?”
“Still asleep.” He landed on her bed, and took off his shoes. “Not likely to wake up for a while still…but she looks better. They told me to go home, since being around her and watching was making me ill.”
“Are you alright?”
“Just need a shower and a good night’s rest. Can I sleep next to you? I really missed you.”
“I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.”
After showering and shaving, a nice clean Adrien flopped onto Marinette’s bed. He inhaled deeply. “Hmm, I missed this smell.” 
“Weirdo.”
“Smells like bread and cinnamon and pretty girl.” 
“Do you want to hear about all the trouble I got into while you were gone?”
“All of it…if I can stay awake.”
So Marinette told it all, starting on Monday morning with Lila, and leading all the way up to the speech, which she showed him on her phone. 
“You just transformed? In front of everyone?”
She shrugged. “Not my brightest move, but Lila was accusing me of lying too…I just wanted to get it out in the air. I don’t regret it.”
“Did you tell anyone who I am?”
“Nope. I thought about telling Alya and Nino, but your identity is yours to tell. Or to keep a secret. It’s totally up to you.” 
Adrien had his eyes half closed, the comfort of the bed and the warmth from his girlfriend relaxing him to sleep. “I have some ideas.”
“Care to share?”
“No. Too tired.”
“Okay kitty.” She giggled. Then she shuffled down to lay beside him, before he latched on and nuzzled her. “Hmmmmm My Lady.”
“Goodnight Kitty Cat.”
“Night. I love…”
“I love too.”
In the morning, Marinette woke up to an empty bed. For a moment, she worried that Adrien coming back last night had been a dream. But his suitcase was open and rifled through. 
Confused, she got up and got dressed, and then came down for breakfast. 
“Morning Miss Hero.” Sabine said fondly.
“Morning mama…did you see Adrien this morning?”
“I didn’t, but your father did. Said he got up really early to take care of some stuff.
“‘Stuff’ huh? Sounds vague.” 
“I don’t know. But he said he’ll meet you at school. So instead of interrogating me, you can go to class and find out for yourself.” 
“Oh I suppose!” Marinette said, dramatically. Then she took a seat at the table and started pouring herself some breakfast. 
“They’re talking about the Hawkmoth story again.” Sabine gestured to the muted TV. “Some people are calling for a reinstatement of the guillotine.”
Marinette scoffed. “Yeah, maybe if there had been any lasting damage, maybe. But as it stands, no one died, no collateral damage…maybe some trauma I guess.”
“You’re being awfully defensive of the man you’ve been fighting the last year.” 
Marinette shrugged. “I just…want Adrien to have his family back. I know Gabriel has to face punishment, and jail might even soften him up to be a better dad when he gets out. I just want him to be able to have his dad in his life…even if it’s just a little bit.”
“Even after all this, he doesn’t hate his father?”
“I couldn’t say.” 
The fog had lifted. The morning sunlight was warm and bright, the birds chirped, the flowers bloomed. Adrien was back in Paris, somewhere, and all was right with the word. 
Marinette almost skipped to school.
Half of her class awaited her by the steps, and when she came into view, they all started calling for her. “Marinette! Marinette!” 
“Carry your bag to class?”
“Carry you to class?”
“Guys guys,” she laughed. “I’m flattered, but you don’t need to keep pampering me. It was fun last week, but we’re cool now, okay?”
“We just wanted to let you know that we were sorry and we appreciate you!” Said Rose, enthusiastically.
“I understand. And I forgive you. The cards, and the back rubs, and the foot rubs, and the manicures…I got it. But I don’t want our friendship to revolve around you guys just worshipping me. And I especially don’t want to be treated like this because of who I am. Let’s just…all go for ice cream this weekend?”
“Fine, but I’m paying for your ice cream!”
“No! I want to pay!”
Marinette chuckled to herself and led the throng of followers into the school. Maybe…one more week of being spoiled wouldn’t hurt. Right?
“Have you heard anything from Adrien?” Nino asked, as he asked everyday. 
“Actually, I did! I’m fairly certain he’ll be in class today too!”
Nino pumped his fist. 
“What should we do to make him feel welcome?” Asked Rose. “We were pretty crappy to him last time we saw him. After all he’s been through…”
Marinette looked over the remorseful faces staring at her. They wanted to make things right. 
“I think apologies, hugs, and just being there for him will be enough. I think he’d appreciate affection, but not being treated like he’s fragile. He’s incredibly strong, you know.” 
They all nodded, but she could hear them conspiring with each other about cards and a cake. She wasn’t going to fight them on this. Adrien needed his friends, and sincere ones at that. 
Walking into the classroom, Marinette’s eye immediately fell on the very expensive handbag on her desk. Chloe sat at her own desk, admiring her nails. 
“Is that—?”
“A Hermes Birkin Togo Handbag with gold Hardware? Why yes, it is.” 
“Why is it on my desk?”
Chloe shrugged. “what, that old thing? I got it, but it doesn’t match my wardrobe, so I figured you would appreciate it.” 
“But…this is new this season! It hasn’t even been released yet!”
“Well, it’s old to me. Give it to your mom if you don’t want it. It’s no skin off my nose!” 
Marinette gave her a genuine smile. “Thank you Chloe, this means a lot to me. Especially after all that happened.” 
“Are you talking about my silly little tantrum? Puh-lease. Even I’m not immune to the allure of pretty jewelry. But it won’t happen again, I’m over combs.”
“Well, I’m crazy about this bag, so thank you.” 
Chloe’s mouth twitched before she said, “you’re welcome.”
Alya and Marinette spent the rest of the morning gushing over the bag, because regardless of who it came from, it was a nice bag. Miss Bustier came in and started the lesson.
It was then that Marinette realized Adrien still hadn’t shown up. 
“I thought you said he was coming today?” Whispered Nino.
“I thought he was. He doesn’t have his phone on him anymore either.”
A few minutes passed before a black blur whizzed by the window. It back tracked and Chat Noir landed on the ledge, knocking on the window. 
“Chat Noir?” Miss Bustier asked as Kim opened the window. 
“So sorry I’m late! I was packing up some of my mother’s belongings to take to her later.” He stalked across the room, with Adrien’s bag draped over his shoulder. Then he stopped at Marinette’s desk, before stooping to kiss her on the lips. “Good morning, My Lady. Sorry I left without saying anything. I woke up early and I didn’t want to bother you.” 
“It’s okay.”
“Claws in.” 
And then it all clicked. The class went ballistic. There was screaming, hugs, well-intended punches, and overall excitement. 
Miss Bustier rolled her eyes fondly. “Guess I’ll have to remove your absences too, to be fair.” 
“Oh, sorry. When Marinette told me she revealed her identity to the class, I knew I had to too, and even more dramatically.” 
“You’re such a goober.” Marinette teased fondly.
“But I’m your goober!”
70 notes · View notes
dalamjisung · 5 years ago
Text
give me a baby ❁ choi youngjae
word count: 6667
genre: hospital!au, fluff
pairing: OBGYN!youngjae x reporter!reader
description: in which your best friend is pregnant and kick-starts your romance with her doctor.
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“Come on, Minyoung-ie,” You mumble, petting her head as she cries hysterically. “Come on, stop crying, please. Auntie is sorry, but there’s nothing she can do.”
Bouncing your body to the rhythm of the song playing in the background, you do your best to calm little Minyoung down, already feeling the creeping sensation of failure in your gut. This is not true, though, and you know; it’s not your fault that the construction next door decided to pick up just as she was falling asleep. But somehow, you couldn’t help but feel as if you weren’t good at this thing– this taking care of children thing. You felt as if Minyoung, your own godchild, hated you. You weren’t her mother, why would she feel comfortable with you?
“Because I love you, too,” You whisper against her head, eyes prickling with tears. “I promise mom will come home soon, Minnie, just please be patient with me.”
You met Jihoon in your last year of high school, when he moved to your school after he got into some trouble with his old school. The rumor arrived with him, and on his second day, everyone knew about the new transfer that sent a guy to the hospital. But no one knew why. So you asked. You weren’t really an outsider, but you definitely weren’t popular; you had one or two friends and when you were with them, you didn’t care about anyone else. You were as weird as you wanted to be, as crazy as you felt, as carefree as you wished– they loved you anyways. It wasn’t really a surprised for them when you showed up at lunch with the new kid, laughing and joking with him. 
The friendship evolved quickly and although many assumed you two to be dating, Jihoon and you were never like that. College rolled around and what was already strong became stronger and you two were indestructible; as roommates in a nearby apartment you rented, Jihoon had been present for every single important occasion in your life, and you in his. Heartbreak, birthdays, loves. Everything. Eventually, when Jihoon found Haewon, you did feel a little left out; they’d go on dates, or spend the day with other couples, but you were happy nonetheless. He finally found someone deserving of his kind heart. 
After college, it feels as if years were as short as months and soon you are standing behind the lovely couple in the isle, wearing a beautiful dress and holding two wedding bands. You cry and they cry and you are pretty sure everyone cries, and then fast forward another year and beautiful Minyoung blesses your life. No one makes a huge deal out of asking you to be the godmother… it was expected to be so. As time passed, you because incredibly close to Haewon, and you found in her a best friend, a sister, and a confidant; you tell her all of your fears and desires, and in return, two years after her baby girl is born, she tells you she’s pregnant again.
“I want to confirm it, so I have an appointment with the OBGYN at the hospital,” She hurriedly tells you as you arrive to take care of Minyoung. “You got this. Bye.”
If only she could see you now, on the verge of tears, once again rejected by the one person you were sworn to forever protect. The couch looks incredibly inviting as your body starts hurting with the weight of the two-year-old, getting heavier and heavier until you finally notice she’s fallen asleep from tiring herself out. Just as you deposit her back on her crib, you hear the front door. 
“I’m home!” Haewon shouts and you freeze, afraid that the baby will wake up. Quickly leaving the room, you walk to the living room, shushing your friend as you go to her.
“For the love of god, don’t wake Minyoung up,” You beg, grabbing her hand. “I just got her to sleep.”
Haewon sighs. “She’s been a lot of work again, huh?”
“It’s not her,” You recite, having said this many, many times before. “I think it’s me. We know I’m a disaster with kids.”
“Don’t say that, she loves you,” Haewon smiles, loving that you try so hard for her child. “She’s just a baby. She doesn’t know better than ‘mom’ and ‘dad.’”
“Yeah, I guess,” You smile tightly. “So?”
“What?”
“How was the appointment?” Sitting on the kitchen stool, you anxiously wait for her response, but you only hear a sigh. “Haewon?”
“It was… a disaster,” She whispers and you hear the loud thud of her head hitting the fridge. “The doctor said that I’m pregnant.”
“That is amazing!” You exclaim. “Why is that a disaster?”
“That’s not a disaster,” She sniffles. “I am. There is something wrong– I don’t remember exactly what, right now– but there’s something wrong and he said that carrying this pregnancy out will be… hard.”
“Haewon–“
“I don’t know what to do,” Her sniffles turn into sobs and you are by her side instantly. “What do I tell Jihoon? He’s going to lose it, and he’ll come right back!”
“But is that so bad?” You ask. “Jihoon’s been working abroad for almost a month now…”
“The contract is for five months,” She mumbles. “And if we are having this baby– and by everything that is sacred, Y/N, I’m having this child, even if I die, I’m having this baby–“
“Yah!” You want to tell her. You really want to tell her, but you know now is not the right time. You know that there may never be the right time, and you made your peace with it; with the only secret you’ll probably forever keep from Jihoon and Haewon. They don’t need to know, you think. It’s been years. 
“So because we’re having this baby, we need the money,” She finished, not even paying attention to you. You’ve never seen Haewon this committed before, and you are scared; just as she said, she’d make sure that this baby lives, even if that means she might not. “So Jihoon will not know about this, Y/N. He can’t. Promise me you won’t tell him.”
You hesitate. 
“Y/N, please,” Haewon sobs. 
“He will know as soon as he sees my face,” You explain, and she knows you’re right. “On our next call he will know, Haewon. Jihoon is basically my brother– he knows when I’m lying!”
“Just don’t mention the baby!” Her hands grab your shoulder and you feel sick. “If he asks about me, say I’m tired. It’s not a lie– I’m fucking exhausted. If he asks about Minyoung, tell him she gave you a hard time again. Just skirt around it. Please.”
Sighing, you nod, hugging her closer to you. 
“On one condition,” And you feel her body tense up. “You come first. Your health comes first, Haewon. That’s my condition. At the first sign of self-neglect I swear to god I’m calling Jihoon back and–“
“Deal!” She exclaims. “Deal. No need to threaten me, you bitch.”
“Love you too,” You laugh. “When is the next consultation?”
“Tomorrow,” She sighs. “They want to run some tests and do another ultrasound, but you don’t have to come, it’s in the morning, so Minyoung will be at school.”
“I’m going with you,” You nod. “I’m going to all appointments, babe. Get ready to have me interrogating your doctor.”
“Oh, be my guest,” She winks. “He’s really handsome… who knows? Maybe you two click and bam! Instant love!”
“I am not sure how you live your life thinking that’s a real possibility,” You deadpan. “But sure. If it makes you happy, go ahead, think like that.”
“Okay Miss Forever Alone,” She jokes. “It’s not because your past relationships didn’t work that you won’t find love, Y/N. I want to see you happy!”
“I am happy!” You defend yourself. “I have you, Jihoon, Minyoung, and my job. I’m perfectly content.”
“There’s a difference,” Haewon chuckles, fondly looking at you. “In between ‘happy’ and ‘content.’ One day you’ll figure it out. I’m sure of it.”
                                                              ————————————
Said and done; you pick Haewon and Minyoung up, early enough to drop the little girl at the pre-school and even have a quick chat with her teacher, since she was one of your friends from college. After a quick coffee, you and Haewon say your goodbyes and drive to the hospital. You know she’s nervous because she is completely silent, but you are ready. In your purse is the notebook you carry everywhere, getting that habit from your Journalism professor back in the days, and in it, in between multiple political scandals notes, is a list of questions to ask the handsome doctor you heard so much about. 
“Hello again Ms. Lee,” One of the front desk nurses smile and Haewon beams in happiness, still giddy about being called ‘Ms. Lee.’ “Do you have another appointment today?”
“I do,” Your friend smiles and grabs your hand. “And I brought a friend to replace my husband.”
“Hi,” You say laughing. “I’m Y/N, the stand-in husband.”
The nurse laughs and stares at you for a few seconds before her eyes widen in recognition. “Oh! Aren’t you the KBS reporter?”
You nod, smiling politely. “Yes, ma’am, that’s me.”
“Ah, I admire you a lot,” The nurse says, cheeks blushing a bit. “You talk about things that are truly important… I think that’s amazing.”
You blush, still not used to the compliments. Honestly, people recognized you in the streets quite a lot, and they all seemed to say the same thing; you talk about things that are truly important. If they only knew the struggle and the fight that it is every time they try to give you a new assignment… it was always a fight in between what the public want and what the public need. You won every time, and it felt amazing to see that people recognized your efforts.
“Thank you so much,” You smile looking at your shoes, embarrassed but happy. “I’ll work hard to keep making you all proud.”
“Wah, you are so cool,” The nurse gushes over you and you and Haewon laugh. “After you are done, would you mind taking a picture with me?”
“Not at all,” You promise. “I’ll come back right after and we can get some coffee too, if you want.”
“That’s your second cup in the span of an hour,” Haewon nags, poking your side. “You promised you’d hold back on the coffee.”
“This is me holding back,” You say, looking at her innocently. “I’d be holding a cup right now if it weren’t for that promise…”
“Oh my god,” She mumbles to herself and pulls you by the hand to the end of a hallway. “Excuse me, we’re here to see Dr. Choi.”
“Your name, please?” The nurse smiles and types the information in her computer, all the while you looked around you. The waiting room was white, like the rest of the hospital, but in the end of the line of doors, you managed to see a bit of yellow, the kind that relaxes and excites at the same time; your favorite kind. 
“I’ll be right back,” You mutter to your friend and move down the hall from her, trying to see what was that room that grabbed your attention so strongly. You are not surprised to see a bunch of cribs lined up, babies wiggling and sleeping and smiling, and you smile too, allowing a melancholic feeling wash over you. 
“Are you looking for yours?”
To your right is a doctor– or, well, you assume he is a doctor, because of his white coat and stethoscope. Your body tenses up, and your smile is gone, as you process these bitter words said in the sweetest voice you’ve ever heard. 
“Ah, no, not really,” You say lowly. “Just… just exploring.”
“I see,” He smiles and for a second you wonder what made him so happy to smile like that– so bright that it feels like the sun is shining on your face. “I’m Youngjae. Choi Youngjae.”
“Nice to meet you, Youngjae,” You shake his hand, trying to offer at least a small smile back, but the nausea that takes over your body makes everything difficult. “I’m Y/N.”
Walking with him back to where you came from, he asks you if you are here for tests and you just point at Haewon, saying that because her husband couldn’t be here, you became the stand-in. 
“Oh, so you’re here with Ms. Lee,” Youngjae says and you notice how his smile falters a little. “I see…”
“Are you her doctor?” You ask, and things start to click in your mind; the handsome doctor just had to be Mr. Sunshine over here. He nods and you nod, too, and both of you can feel the tense atmosphere.
“Well,” You sigh, walking ahead of him. “I’m sorry in advance.”
“What for?” He laughs, looking confused.
You look back at him and you chuckle, seeing his head slightly tilted to the side, thinking that he looks like a puppy, looking ate you with those big eyes and bright smile. You just shake your head and take a step back as Haewon starts talking to him. 
Not love at first sight, you think as you follow them into his office. But he’s definitely handsome.
The next hour is filled with questions; will she need complete rest? What can we do to increase this pregnancy’s success rate? Will he be available at all times, any time? 
“Okay,” You nod, looking at your notes. “I guess that’s all…”
“Oh thank god,” Both Haewon and Youngjae sigh at the same time, reclining back in their own chairs. 
“This was the most intense consultation I’ve ever done for someone who’s only three months pregnant,” He jokes, looking at you with a glint in his eyes and a tired smile. “But what was I supposed to expect from our top reporter here, right?”
“Oh, you know her?” Haewon asks, and you know that voice– that sweet, unassuming voice of someone who is about to strike. 
“Who doesn’t?” Youngjae chuckles. “I watch her on TV all the time…”
“Ah,” Haewon looks at you. “That’s adorable, isn’t it, Y/N?”
“Yes,” You raise your brows at her, eyes calculating her next step. “Real cute.”
“Do you have any more questions?” He asks, looking at the papers in front of him in a failed attempt to hide his blushed cheeks.
“No, but Y/N might,” Haewon jokes and grabs your phone from your hand. “So why don’t you give her your number and she can call you if anything… comes up.”
Both you and the doctor stare at your friend, dumbfounded. 
“I can just call the hospit–“
“Technically, she’s not your client,” Haewon continues and you gasp, surprised with her discrepancy. “So it should be fine, right?”
Choi Youngjae snorts and before you can say anything, he is taking the phone and typing his information. 
“Your friend is right,” Youngjae says matter-of-factly. “You’re not my client, so it’s fine.”
“Goddammit, you two really are a couple of–“
“See you later, Dr. Choi!” Haewon waves and, once again, drags you away. You only smile because you can hear his laughter coming from his office. 
                                                             ————————————
For almost two months, you abuse of your power and text Youngjae all of your questions; cesarean or natural birth? What are the odds of both? Would lamaze classes help or would it stress the fetus? How risky is this pregnancy? And being the good doctor you learned him to be, he answers all of your questions expertly, with calm and composure. On the days you don’t have as many questions, Youngjae comes up with questions of his own, mundane and funny; things like what are you doing? or loved the news last night! Who knew, huh? Slowly, you start to feel Dr. Choi Youngjae sneak into your life, and you do absolutely nothing to stop it.
It was during one of your morning brainstorm of questions and research and memes that, answering to one of your inquiries, Youngjae invited you to his office.
Why don’t we set up an appointment today? I feel like I can better answer your questions in person.
That sounds good. My lunchtime is at 12, would that work for you?
Yes. We can meet at the hospital’s cafeteria; you can eat and question me at the same time lol
Oh, it’s okay! We can meet at your office.
I’m a doctor, Y/N… I’m not letting you skip lunch -_-
You laugh at the emoji because you can almost see him deadpan expression.
Okay then. 12 at the cafeteria.
See you then!
You arrive a little early just so you can find the cafeteria, and you catch yourself wondering, comparing these white walls with the other white walls you stared at before. You look at the lights and you have a blurry flash of them passing over you, voices screaming words that you know but don’t understand. Your lungs compress and you take a deep breath, having mastered the art of suppressing anxiety attacks. You’re okay, you think to yourself. It’s been years, Y/N. You’re okay.
“Hey, Ms. Reporter,” You hear behind you, and you know you’re fully okay once you turn around to face Youngjae. He really brightens the room…
“Hey Mr. Doctor,” You smile and he smiles back. You’ll probably never admit to Haewon that she was right, but goddammit she was right. He’s incredibly handsome and you know what it is once you see him and you feel your heart race a little.
“Lunch?” He says pointing at the cafeteria and you just nod, following him.
The food is not as bad as you assume it will be, and Youngjae looks pleased, so there’s that, too. You have to catch yourself once you start comparing this food with the food of the hospital you stayed at, not wanting to ruin the day when it barely began. 
“So,” Youngjae smiles shyly. “Questions?”
“What?” You mumble, still trying to snap out of it. “Oh. Oh yeah, questions…”
“I have one for you.”
“Shoot,” You say as you open your bag, hands moving the things inside in search for your notebook. 
“How do you know so much about this?” He asks unassumingly. “Do you have kids?”
His voice weavers once he notices you stopped moving. 
“W-what I mean is that you seem to have some–“
“Experience?” You whisper, head slowly raising to look him in the eyes. Youngjae nods, frowning as he notices your hands coming out of the bag empty, shaking as you place them on the table. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–“
“But you did,” Your voice is dry and soulless. “Anyways, I don’t. Have kids, that is.”
“Y/N…” He reaches out for your hand and you let him, craving any kinds of warmth. 
“I knew you’d figure out at some point,” You chuckle humorlessly.
“Does Ms. Lee know?” Youngjae mumbles still frowning and you just want to move on from this conversation. You want him to stop looking at you like that and go back illuminating the hospital with his smile. 
“No,” You shake your head, suddenly alarmed. “And you can’t tell her! She’ll blame herself and–“
“I won’t,” He promises, getting up from his chair and moving to the one next to you. “I won’t, I promise.”
“Thank you,” You sigh. “Thanks, Youngjae.”
He nods and you notice his hesitation, the weight of the tension heavy on him. His hands are tight around yours and you think you can live like this– you can live if he holds you this tight, or else, you might just crumble down. 
“You can ask,” You say, looking at him with sorrowful eyes. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“What happened?” He finally asks after a moment of silence. 
“I was young,” You shrug, looking down at both your hands. I can live. “And in love. And well… you know what happens when people are in love and it was unexpected, to say the least, but what can I do? I was in college, in love, and then pregnant… He also wasn’t ecstatic, but we promised each other we’d make it work. For him. Or her; we never found out the gender.”
You aren’t shaking anymore. Nor crying. You’ve trained yourself to not feel when thinking about it; Jihoon and Haewon could never find out. 
“And then one day I just… bled,” You say, closing your eyes with a heavy sigh. “One doctor told me it was because of my ‘high level of stress;’ another told me it was because of my job… one even went as far as to say I might never be able to–“
“No,” Youngjae shakes his head, pulling you closer. You could feel his breathing hitting your forehead as he enveloped you in a hug, petting you on the back. “There are many treatments for that. Who was that doctor? I’ll make sure they never practice again.”
“It’s okay,” You smile tightly. “We lost it. The baby. Fetus. Could’ve been a baby, but it was still a fetus. After that my ex and I just drifted apart and that was kind of it.”
“And you never told anyone?” You shake your head at the question. “Y/N… it’s been years and you kept that for yourself?”
“Jihoon and Haewon were still at their honeymoon phase,” You chuckle, pulling back to see Youngjae’s distraught face. “And I remember how they were on a special date, something Jihoon had been planning for a long time. I didn’t want to ruin it for them… but then the right time never came and I just gave up.”
“I’m sorry,” Youngjae mumbles, letting go of your hands and looking at his own, as if it had been his fault.
“Yah,” You chuckle, poking him with your elbow. “Sorry for what? You weren’t even a doctor then…”
He smiles a bit and you already feel yourself getting warmer, cheeks blushing slightly. “How do you know that?” He teases, and you let out a heavy breath, relieved that everything is okay with you two. “You don’t know how old I am.”
“Well, you know how old I am, and assuming your hitting on me I’m gonna go ahead and say you not much older…” You look at him, looking for any sign of a confirmation in his face, and he notices; Youngjae notices your eyes dancing around his face and he smiles brightly. 
“No need to assume,” He says a bit shy. “I am. Hitting on you. And not much older, too.”
“Oh thank god,” You joke. “I was afraid you’d be a perverted old man!”
Both of you hear someone laughing nearby and you only notice the four doctors looking at you and Youngjae once he flips them off, making you gasp. 
“I’m sorry about my friends,” He groans, getting up. “They are stupid.”
“And you are a perverted old man!” One of them shouts back, and you wonder if any of them heard your story. And you surprise yourself once you don’t really care; it is your story, and you’ll tell it to whomever, and whenever you want. 
“Shut up, Bam!” Youngjae laughs and you laugh with him, simply because his laughter made you giddy. “Did you come with your car?”
You nod. “Yeah, it’s parked out front.”
“Text me once you make it back to work?” He asks, following you outside until you are in front of your car.
“Yes, sir,” You say, saluting him.
“You did it wrong,” He jokes and salutes back the proper way. “See you later, cadet!”
“See you, captain!” You laugh and unlock your car.
Before you can get inside, though, Youngjae calls you back.
“Oh, wait up!” He exclaims, pulling you back by the elbow. His mouth is on your for just a split of a second and you freeze. “Forgot that. Have a good day!”
“Yah, Choi Youngjae!” You gasp once he jogs back to the hospital, his laughter making you smile like a fool. “Come back here and kiss me properly!”
“Next time!” He shouts from the hospital doors. Sending you a wink, he goes inside, and you can do nothing but drive away, feeling the lightest you’ve ever felt. 
                                                             ————————————
Haewon is now seven months, meaning two months passed since you last saw Youngjae. That’s how you are counting time, now, since between your job and your friend’s pregnancy, you’ve been busy and exhausted. Everyday is harder than the next; you’ve been sleeping with Haewon in her room and you’ve been awaken by her pained grunting multiple times. She’s been resting for months now, and she’s told Jihoon about the pregnancy, not wanting him to miss anything even if he can only be present by computer. She just failed to mention everything else; the risks, the pain, the danger. And as you promised, you didn’t mention it either. 
In between work and lunchtime you drop Minyoung at her grandmother’s for the night, and you go back home to check on your friend, even if she scolds you every time. Go check on Youngjae! Forget me for a few hours, will you? You know she’s well intentioned, but you don’t understand how she can ask that of you. 
“Shut up,” You blush, and his promise echoes in your mind. Next time. “We’ve been talking everyday, he can wait a little longer.”
“It’s been two fucking months, Y/N,” Haewon cries out as another contraction hits. If that’s how she chooses dot deal with the pain– by screaming at you,– then you are fine with it. “Go see him! Have sex! Live your life!”
You roll your eyes, switching the channel on the TV once again. You look at your watch and you still have half an hour until you have to go back to work. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Y/N!” She shouts. 
“I already said I would–“
You turn around in the couch to where Haewon is leaning, back against the wall and face tightened in pain. From her sweatpants, you see blood. And that’s when you move. Hands flying to your pocket, where your phone lays and your are typing the number as quickly as you can while simultaneously trying to carry your desperate friend to the couch.
“Hello?”
“Youngjae!” You cry out, probably startling him on the other side of the line. “Youngjae, she’s bleeding. Oh my god, she’s bleeding and I don’t know what to do, I’m just– Youngjae, please, please, I–“
“Call an ambulance,” He orders, voice firm and sure. “Y/N, you need to call an ambulance.”
“Okay,” You breath out, stretching your whole body to grab the house phone. “Okay, I’m calling.”
“Alright, I’ll see you at the hospital, okay?” He says and you hear shuffling on the other side of the phone. “I’ll be waiting for yo–“
“Don’t hang up!” You shout over Haewon’s cries. “Please Youngjae, don’t leave me alone, I can’t do this!”
On the other phone someone is asking questions and you answer them automatically, giving the the address and begging them to get there quickly. 
“Y/N, you’re doing great,” Youngjae says, and you can hear his keys dangling. “But I have to drive to the hospital so I will have to go. You can do this. I know you can.”
“Okay,” You sob. “Okay.”
“Alright,” He says and his voice is strong. “I’ll go. Love you.”
The line is off before you can say anything about it. 
Love you. 
Haewon screams as you run from next to her to open the door, hearing the sirens before they even knock on the door. 
Love you. 
You climb on the ambulance next to her, ignoring her pleas to not call Jihoon and telling him to come home on the next flight.
Love you. 
You see him by the door, wearing his scrubs and surrounded with nurses, and he’s the first one to reach Haewon, asking her question after question, and just like that he is gone, pushing the bed into the surgery ward. 
“Ma’am, you’re shaking,” One of the EMT says, guiding you to a nurse stationed in the front desk. She sits you down in a couch and asks for a doctor, trying to talk to you. 
“I think she’s in shock,” The nurse narrates once a doctor comes. 
“Excuse me, ma’am,” The doctor calls. “My name is Dr. Tuan; can you tell me your name?”
“Y/N,” You mumble, looking at him, eyes wide and unfocused. “Y/N Y/L/N.”
You see him nod, but you don’t care. You are suddenly hit with a pang in your head, the pain making you double over.
“Everything is wrong,” You mumble to yourself. “This is not supposed to happen, this is not supposed to happen, this–“
You continue muttering, pulling on your head a way to try and focus on your present situation– the space, the people, the time,– but you can’t help but be pulled back to when it was you; laying on that bed, bleeding, desperate and helpless. You cried, begging for someone help, but there was nothing they could do. There was nothing you could do.
“You need to save her,” You tell Dr. Tuan, even though he’s not the one you want to tell that. “You need to save Haewon and the baby.”
“I’ll make sure to tell Dr. Choi that,” Dr. Tuan nods and you nod too, assuming he’s one of Youngjae’s friends. “But right now, I need you to focus. You look like you’re about to set yourself off in a panic attack, so I need you to breath.”
You do as he says, and once you regain the little composure you had when coming in, Dr. Tuan frowns.
“Ma’am,” He says softly. “Are you alright?”
“Give me a baby,” You say matter-of-factly, voice strong for the first time in hours. “Tell Youngjae to give me a baby and I’ll be just fine.”
Dr. Tuan nods, and no one says anything about your strange choice of words. Everyone just waits.
                                                             ————————————
“Y/N,” You hear a familiar voice call. “Y/N, wake up!”
You blink, getting up from the chairs in the waiting room. “Jihoon.”
He looks at you, eyes wild and red, probably like yours. 
“I’m sorry,” Your lips tremble and you are sobbing again. “I’m so sorry, Jihoon-ah.”
“It’s not your fault,” He mumbles. “The doctors told me everything. She made you promise, didn’t she?”
You nod and he hugs you, holding you tightly to his body. “Thank you for taking care of her, Y/N.”
“But we’re still here,” You cry. “I failed again.”
“What? No,” Jihoon pulls back and looks at you quizzically. “You never failed, Y/N.”
“But I did!” You shout, and you are sure you look crazy right now, hair wild and eyes bloodshot. “I failed. I failed and now she’s going through the worst pain she’ll ever feel in her life!”
“I’m sure that’s not–“
“I would know,” You whisper, looking at him defeated. “I would know, Jihoon.”
And although the timing is bad, you feel as if a weight has been lifted from your shoulders.
“Y/N,” Jihoon calls, voice serious and scared. “What are you talking about?”
“This is not–“
You try to go back on your word, make an excuse, but nothing comes out. You two stand in silence, Jihoon looking at you as if calculating your next move; but then the doors open and Youngjae walks out, looking tired and worn out after hours of surgery. 
“Mr. Lee?” He says, looking at Jihoon, and just like that, everything is forgotten. Haewon is top priority.
“Yes,” Jihoon breathes out, grabbing your hand in nervousness, even though you stand behind him without looking up. You’re not brave enough to look Youngjae in the eyes. “How’s my wife? My kid?”
“Haewon is fine,” Youngjae says, a heavy sigh coming out of his mouth. “She lost a lot of blood but she is safe and stable. Your baby is at the NICU, but he’s also stable.”
“Why is he at the NICU?” Jihoon asks, stumbling on his words a little bit. 
“Because your baby was born prematurely, his lungs weren’t fully developed yet,” Youngjae explains slowly, making sure that Jihoon is understanding every and each words that comes out of his mouth, and just the sound of his voice makes your breathing slow down. “This is just a little help until he’s all developed and able to go home.”
“But he’s okay?” Jihoon lets go of you to run his hands through his hair, a nervous habit of his. “My son is alright?”
“Your son is perfectly fine,” You can practically hear the smile on his voice. “Just came into the world a little early, but overall okay. Congratulations, Mr. Lee.”
Jihoon cries out in happiness, turning around to hug you, and as you hug him back, you finally look at him, and he’s looking right at you. Youngjae has a smile as he sees you break down for what feels like the tenth time just this evening, and as soon as Jihoon pulls back, you run to him, ignoring his gasp of surprise as you hug him tightly.
“Thank you,” You mumble into his neck, and he laughs, hugging you back even though your best friend is probably staring with his mouth wide open in shock. “Thank you, Youngjae.”
“Hey,” He soothes you, hand running down your hair. “She’s alright. The baby’s alright. Everything is fine now; you did great, Y/N, you were so brave.”
You let go of him, and pull back a little bit, face still close to his. 
“Remember your promise?” You whisper, breath fanning his lips and he chuckles, the vibration going up your body. He nods, eyes fixated on yours, and face getting closer and closer. 
Love you.
“Love you, too,” You say and ignore Jihoon’s screams in background as you kiss Youngjae, mouth pushing against his, demanding and wanting and needing. You are very aware that you are kissing your friend’s doctor in front of the surgery ward with your best friend screaming in the back, but you don’t care. You can’t care, actually; not when Youngjae brings you closer as if you are all he needs. Better yet, all he wants. 
                                                             ————————————
It is almost a year later that you find yourself sitting down with Jihoon and Haewon, tense and nervous. Minyoung and Jinyoung are both at their grandparents and even though your friends are restless without their kids, they appreciate the timeout from the kids. You sit there quiet and fidgeting, not really sure how to start the talk you’ve been wanting to have for years, at least not until Youngjae comes back from the kitchen with four glasses of wine. 
“So,” Jihoon start, clearly uncomfortable. “What did you call us here for?”
Youngjae grabs your hand, and his thumb plays with the engagement ring on your left hand, and you think this is all the strength you need to finally tell your friends.
“When Haewon was giving birth to Jinyoung,” You start, putting your untouched wine glass on the center table. “You asked me what I meant when I said I would know what she’s going through. You asked me what I was talking about and… do you remember back in college, when Jaemin had to take me to the hospital because I had an accident?”
“Yeah,” Haewon nods, trying to remember everything about that day. “He called us to say you had an accident and had to spend the night at the hospital…”
“Yeah,” You say, voice heavy and gurgled with unshed tears. “That day I had a miscarriage. I had been pregnant for about a month, and I knew… only for a few days, but I knew and I was trying to gather enough courage to tell you guys, but then I just– it didn’t follow through.”
“W-what?” Jihoon mumbles and you look at your friend. You swear you never felt as guilty as you felt at that moment, watching your best friend, your family, cry because of you. “And you never told us?!”
“You were happy,” You shrug, crying with him. “I know it’s a lame excuse, but you were happy and there was nothing you could’ve done. I’m sorry, Jihoon. I’m sorry, Haewon. I just didn’t know what to do.”
“We could’ve helped you!” Jihoon gets up abruptly, but you are not scared. Not when he marches to you; not when he reaches for you, not when he cries, sobbing on your neck. Jihoon loves you endlessly and you love him right back. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“You didn’t know,” You mumble, wiggling in his a little too tight embrace. “So there is nothing to apologize for.”
“Y/N,” Haewon is crying too, but she waits until her husband lets you go to move towards you. “It must have been so hard, when you saw me like that…”
You shake your head, trying to tell her that it’s alright. “What matters is that you and Jinyoung are alright.”
“Yeah,” She lets out a laugh, letting you sit down next to your fiancee again. “Thank to a certain doctor, isn’t that right, Dr. Choi?”
Youngjae just laughs, and pulls you closer, kissing your forehead. “You did it, love.”
“I did it,” You say it back to him, and then you look at your friends, nervous again. “And I learned my lesson, so there is something else I want to tell you guys. You too, Youngjae.”
“What?” Youngjae asks, smiling innocently. 
You scoot over, getting closer to him, and looking him deep in the eyes.
“Yah, what is it?” He says, frowning even though his smile is unchanging. “I’m getting nervous…”
“I’m pregnant,” You say, smiling as you watch his face contort in surprise, smile getting wider if that’s even possible. 
“How far along?” He breaths out, hands grabbing his hair out of excitement. 
“Three months,” You smile and he’s on his feet, shouting in happiness. “You’re going to be a dad.”
“Oh my god, I love you so much,” He mumbles and kisses you deeply. “I love you I love you I love you!”
“Congratulations!” Jihoon hugs you. “I’ll be here for everything from now on.”
“Oh you bet you will,” You say nonchalantly. “As the godfather of this child, it’s nothing more than your duty to be here for all of it.”
And once again, Jihoon is crying. 
“If Jihoon is the godfather,” Youngjae asks once it’s just you two again, in the comfort of your shared apartment. “Can Jackson be the godmother?”
“Sure?” You say, a little uncertain of how that would work. 
Silence reigns for a while as you snuggle closer to Youngjae.
“Are you scared?” He whispers in your hair, hand lazily drawing shapes on your arm.
“Terrified,” You say honestly. “I don’t want to fuck this up, Youn–“
“Hey,” He pulls you closer, sitting you down on his lap. “It’s not your fault. It was a situation not a condition. You are healthy and amazing and our child will come to this world to loving parents and family. We got this, love. I’m right here with you, and I promised you, didn’t I?”
You frown. “Promised me what?”
“I promised I’d give you a baby,” He says and you instantly smile. 
“He told you,” You mumble and Youngjae nods.
“Mark called me mid surgery to tell me that,” Youngjae chuckles and pecks your lips. “He thought that motivate me.”
“And did it?” You ask. “Motivate you?”
“I never felt more motivated in my life,” He mumbles over your lips. “Just the thought of having a baby with you–“
“That’s not what I meant!” You gasp, laughing at his shamelessness.
“But that’s what I meant.”
And you if you weren’t already pregnant, after that night you’d be for sure. 
———————————
Hello lovelies! Here is the latest update with OBGYN Choi Youngjae! I have to say, this one might be my favorite one in the whole series! I love youngjae so much and he’s so sweet as a doctor... what do you all think? Let me know in the comments! Every like, reblog, and comment makes me happy to write :P love you all and stay safe <3
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isoisolated · 4 years ago
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I have ADHD and it's not fun
29/12 edit: coming back to this post, I just wanted to add that at the time of writing, my adhd was unmedicated. Thought this might be good thing to note. 
My friend Ondrej kept sending me articles and texts posts written by other adhd people (mostly adult males) that it finally pushed me to write my own, because even though I could relate to some minor and major parts, something always felt a bit of and also because ADHD is a condition that's been heavily ignored by medical professionals not only in adults, but especially in adult women, which is a group I sort of represent myself. 
I could talk about this for ages, my therapist frequently tells me that I have this gift of intense self-analysis and immense passion to get it all sorted out once for all. I guess it's another way of saying I'm so hyperaware of my own existence and my brain simply latches onto it and constantly tries to solve its own problems. 
If you do not care about my own personal history, just skip to second headline.
I was clueless for the first 20 years of my existence
Now, ADHD isn't the only thing that's been making me feel almost alien, I dare to say that my puberty years were mostly about developing and internalising bit of trauma and processes that do no good in later life. 
I love music. And I mean I truly endlessly unconditionally love music. Being a daughter of music composer, I was 6 when I first asked my dad to show me where to press record in Logic Pro and told him to leave me alone while I recorded my first song. It was called Autumn is here and it sounded like something made by 6 years old. 
I remember we were attending castings for TV shows or commercials and later I was told that it was me who initiated such trips and that I always wanted to be a part of such things. I don't remember initiating such things but I remember for sure that I was very shy and uncomfortable when I was supposed to show off. 
I remember I was supposed to take piano lessons. And I was so baffled that I had to follow the book and play what's in the book, instead of playing thing I wanted. I think I told my parents after few lessons that I do not like it and was dropped outta it. This became a pattern, if I recall correctly. 
But that's nothing out of ordinary, kids are harder to get focused and entertained. I remember two moments from elementary school where I was told by my classmates that I'm acting like I have ADHD and it got me real mad every time, because in my head ADHD looked like not paying attention in class, being body hyper and overall just annoying. 
I could find a proof that I made myself first to-do list when I was 14. Since 14 I felt like I need more self control and self regulation, that I need to fit myself more into ambitions I had and have and in order to do that, I started making to-do lists with ambiguous tasks such as “work more on music” and “work-out”. It was also in during my great isolation era, I had no real life friends but one that I was seeing occasionally, I wasn't going out, I came from school on Friday afternoon and left my room on Monday morning. I was making friends online since I was 11 and lived mostly online. 
At that time I also started figuring out what was wrong with me. Since ever I always felt a bit “off” compared to my peers, I always felt weird (and was told that thousand of times in my life), I always felt like I was thinking about things a bit differently and my humour was different and my hobbies were seen obscure by my classmates (even though they weren't obscure at all). I felt alone for most of my growing up and feelings of complete loneliness and detachment haunt me to this day, making me spiral. 
I thought I might suffer from bipolar disorder, because I had high energy episodes and my emotions were so intense. I was crying almost everyday for both external and internal reasons, my head sometimes felt like too much and I found temporary peace in self-help books and esotericism. 
I was around 17-18 when I realised all of this is bullshit and that no book can make me do things that I wanna do. I'd spent hours, days and months thinking about doing things, being crippled by this weird force that hold my body down, unable to do anything, no matter how much I wanted it. I'd beat myself up for it, thinking I was just so damn lazy and stupid and pretentious. I wanna be a popstar, a successful musician, I have to do all these things and if not, I'm gonna fail so much and my life will lose its meaning. 
When I was 17, I released my first EP and for some reason, it found some attention and success, if we might call it that. Suddenly I felt on the right path, I was seen as a musician and also very young one. Even though I still was sad almost every day or had intense sadness episodes that could last for a week, it felt right and I couldn't wait to finish high school and become a full time musician. 
I'd produce music in unplanned episodes of total focus, where I would sit and do things for hours straight, without eating. My most favorite songs were made during 6-8 hour sessions and it felt amazing. I couldn't bring myself to produce music if I hadn't the right vibe or idea for it. 
It was around that time this woman texted me, saying she wants to be my manager and that she really likes my music. It felt so unreal but here I am, with my own professional manager, on my way to be the most amazing music person.
I'd crush on people (and mostly boys and men) constantly, it was also very episodic, could last for days to month where I'd had nothing on my mind but them, drowned in daydreaming and just imagining things and also letting them know all of that. It was magical but it was fleeting. It still is. But it is the greatest inspiration, where I feel so much emotions it makes me see things and then I can transform them into music. 
But there was still something wrong with me, I was very emotional, still struggling with making my routines work, I'd come up with new plans and schedules every week just to fail them the day after. It was exhausting and I saw nothing alike in my world too, I was alone and my experience was just not enough will power. 
I could get mad so easily, I'd clench my fists and was so close to punching someone and when I hated someone I hated them with immense passion and spent hours just imagining myself confronting them. I was so mad all the time on background too and even slightest thing would put me in classic rage mode.
I have problems remembering dates and names, I'm bad at remembering people's faces, I'm bad at learning things by myself even though I have interest in them. I'm bad at making routine for myself and actually following it.
I finished high school and planned to go study abroad but it turned out it isn't what I want so I came back and started looking for a job. Around that time I met my now best friend and thanks to him I actually started thinking even harder what might be wrong with me, so I looked up ADHD. And didn't believe that at all. I wasn't like this, was I? 
Then, the summer came and I met my friend (and also a fan) while being out for a beer. We chatted, had a great time and then told me I kinda am like a person with ADD. I was confused because I didn't recall what that does mean, later I remembered it's another (and outdated) term for ADHD, but it's the “quiet type”, where the hype happens mostly inside and doesn't manifest outside that much. So I started researching once again, because I trusted him and it was that one push I needed.
It's been year since that moment and it took me months to accept that I might suffer from ADHD and to this day I still have feelings of impostor syndrome, making it all harder for myself just like that, to be more interesting for myself. I still yet have to accept this. 
I was transitioning into adulthood and yet had actual emotional breakdowns, I was crying and my heart was aching and I couldn't bring myself to do things I want, to learn more about music production, to learn how to sing better, to learn my favorite k-pop choreos, to work-out, to embody my own vision of who I want to be. With music, I am my own boss and it's the worst.
Covid-19 hit our country and here came the first lockdown. It pushed me over the edge and I felt like I was losing all of my friends, I felt those feelings of loneliness and weirdness again, I felt like nobody knows what's wrong because I don't have it as bad as others, I was hurting so much my body was shaking and twisting. I decided to try medication, even though I told my psychiatrist I don't want to, I just felt like I cannot be like this anymore, it's too much pain and no matter how much I try, I can't make it better, I can't make it work. 
I started taking Strattera and after month or two, I saw it working. A bit, I could focus better and bring myself to do things more and more frequently, and if I had these weird emotional meltdowns, they weren't as intense as before. This serves me as ultimate proof that I am not making this up, because if I were, the medication wouldn't work and make me feel better, right? 
So, what am I doing now? 
I'm still a huge mess and I cannot see myself in a better light. Even though I have job that I perform at at stable rate, even though I have just a little problem cooking for myself, even though I have no troubles falling asleep, even though I can enjoy things greatly when those high energy waves hit me. 
I'm tired of myself, I'm tired of myself not being able to do anything again. I ignore my manager because I already know I have nothing else to say than “I cannot bring myself to do things and you know that, I'm sorry for being a constant failure.” When people compliment me, I thank them but deep inside I don't accept it. 
I have unreleased and WIP songs I can see never being released, ever. When I listen to music from my favorite artists, I can also feel the pain from the fact that I'm not like them and that I probably won't ever be, because my brain sabotages me every damn time. 
From the very moment I wake up to the very moment I fall asleep, there's music playing in my head. I don't choose what's playing, sometimes it's song I don't even like and yet it's stuck on loop. I talk with my therapist in my head, I'm having weird flashbacks in my head to my memories, I'm having “you should do X right now” and “why aren't you doing Y” stuck on loop too. This all is happening at once, every moment I'm awake, even when I'm talking with people. It's exhausting. 
I'm bored most of the time, I have interesting books in my bookshelf and still cannot read them because I have to reread paragraphs in order to actually understand them. And even then, I find my mind wandering again. I have problems with long texts and long tutorials.
I get frustrated easily, my head is overflowing with ideas I can't act on. I'm living in weird worlds I made up for myself, and then reality hits me. 
I had my first depressive episode few months ago. I felt like nothing matters, that I don't matter, I felt nothing and emptiness, I crawled up in bed and was mindlessly watching youtube videos. I didn't want to eat or drink, I wanted to not exist at all. That episode passed but it was my first encounter with actual depressive state and I know I can slip into it more easily now, it simply developed along the way, after 21 years without acknowledging that I have problems and I struggle. 
People don't understand the struggle, when talking to them about my problems, it's like talking to an automated assistant, coming up with phrases like “Did you try yoga?” “everyone struggles sometime” “you cannot accomplish everything”. They say they wanna listen and help until they don't. 
I have a mental graveyard for ideas I won't ever finish, no matter how good they are, because my brain won't let me. Proper medication would help, therapy also helps but I can't talk myself out of actual executive dysfunction. 
ADHD is a neurodevelopmental disorder, our brains are literally underdeveloped in some areas and wired differently. Our emotions lack regulation normal people have and our motivation is fragile. This can't be changed with yoga, this cannot be solved by trying more. Not to even mention, capitalist society is especially damaging to neurodivergent people (and not only them, of course). 
While on this journey, I am still meeting more and more people having same struggles like me, finding people who understand you is the best thing to battle impostor syndrome. Sometimes I can't help them and sometimes they can't help me, but it's okay, because we know we understand each other and if I wanna complain and vent, we can do so without having to explain this condition over and over. 
And I hope that someone finds this relatable too, because as a woman I know my group isn't represented enough. We are not children, nor adult males, we need more attention and more support, from both healthcare system and each other. 
While doing this, I hope to get myself proper medication and continue doing what I love the most - music. I don't love anything else more than that. I hope to get rid of “all or nothing” mindset, I hope to be more consistent, I hope my music will reach its listeners and fans. I still have enough time, I think, even though my sense of time is neurologically altered. 
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Of Bites And Tough Times
Summary: Henry and his wife discuss what is to be done about their daughter’s behavior at school, but bring up topics that lay buried for too long.
Warnings: Depression/ language/ burnout/ couple’s argument/ (blink and you’ll miss) talk of divorce/ very little fluff/ loads of angst. If you notice anything that should be included in the warnings, please let me know.
Word count: 3k+
A/N: This was requested by my dear @constip8merm8 who wanted a story closer to the real world, that couldn’t be fluffy or smutty. I wasn’t pretty faithful to the theme (the daughter biting other children at school and they discuss how to deal with it) but she told me it was good, so here it is.
Gif by @henricavyll​
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Rose was the light of his life.
The day she arrived he was there.
Every rough night, when she was colicky, he insisted on holding her for as long as she needed the comfort.
He was there for the first tooth and the crying that came with it.
He was there for the times when she’d mumble “mama”, just to insist she said “papa”.
He managed to capture on film the first time she stood up, using a chubby fistful of Kal’s fur for support.
He dedicated the first eighteen months of her life to be there for her and his wife.
But time is a luxury in his job. If he spent much longer away from photo shoots and auditions, the spotlight would shift to a younger, better looking actor, and he wasn’t ready to give up acting just yet.
The following four months were full of airports, makeup artists, hair stylists, clicks from famous photographers and paparazzi alike.
He had grown too fond of the silence from that side of his life and the few phone calls they’d get from family and friends every week. Having to reacquaint himself with the constant chiming of his notifications wasn’t easy, and he found himself struggling with the change.
He didn’t commit to anything long term at first, but the idea was certainly on his mind warring with the delight of returning to the giggling toothy grin and bouncing curls with some frequency.
It had been three days since he returned from his most recent commitment abroad and Rose was still clingy - not that he’d ever complain.
Taking her to nursery school had become his job, per her decree, and on that Friday he decided to linger a bit after dropping her to chat with other parents.
The shrill scream pierced Henry’s ears but faded into wailing before his eyes could register where it had come from.
It had happened once before and his fears were confirmed when his daughter’s teary, bicolored eyes, already regretful, met his own.
Relief and gratitude for being there at that moment washed over him along with anger and dismay in the split second it took him to understand the situation.
Her teacher was leading her away from the other child by her upper arm, when he reached them.
It had been a topic of conversation with his wife, unfortunately leading to an argument.
“If I hadn’t been there, watching… She was about to bite the other kid. And when the teacher showed me a picture of the incident… I was mortified Henry. I wanted to dig a hole and hide.” The tears welling in her eyes as she recounted what had happened earlier only fueled an anger he tried to mitigate and keep out of his words.
“How bad was it?”
“It’s not a matter of how bad! It’s a matter of her repeating that behavior and dealing with adults trying to correct her in a way we wouldn’t. It’s also a matter of her not doing it anymore! Why is this happening? So many children adapt so well, why not her?”
Breathing deeply through his nostrils, he concentrated on biting back the opinion she disagreed with. This didn’t have to become a fight.
Going to the living room to pick up a tissue box, he focused on controlling his anger before bringing it back to the kitchen.
“Why don’t you say something?” she hissed. “Why don’t you throw the much anticipated ‘I told you so!’ in my face, huh?”
She managed to keep her voice down, so she wouldn’t wake the sleeping culprit, but it only added to the tension between them.
“You want me to? Cause you know I’m thinking it.” he replied quietly.
“I just want to get a bit of my life back Henry! I want to have a sense of self again! I want to have some time for myself!” tears she couldn’t hold anymore ran down her face as she spoke. “I feel like I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want my life anymore Henry.”
He offered her a tissue which she harshly took from his hand.
Her words broke him.
He was grateful that her head hung low in that moment, while blowing her nose. She didn’t see the battle he raged against the tears threatening to pour out of his eyes.
“We finally managed to get her to sleep in her bed. And you’re not here to deal with this every single day. You have the luxury of being with adults, dealing with adult things!” she continued. “I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation that didn’t revolve around nappies, toddler clothing stores or toy brands. I’m going crazy here!”
He could see her side of the issue. He understood how much she was hurting, but he couldn’t fully accept what she wanted.
“I talked to a friend of mine, a psychologist, earlier today.” he started.
She shook her head and waved her hands as if to say she didn’t understand where he was getting at and what that had to do with the subject being discussed at the moment.
He held his palm up towards her, asking her to let him finish, as he usually did when her patience was starting to run low during their arguments.
“He said children present this kind of behavior when they are put in situations or places where they don’t feel safe, or loved, or understood. Or when adults don’t have the patience to deal with them and expect them to behave and be quiet, like adults. That got me thinking…”
“What are you trying to say?” she asked quietly, narrowing her eyes.
He didn’t get to finish whatever he had in mind.
“It’s so easy for a psychologist, or even for you, to simply judge the situation from afar. It’s not like there are any other places nearer to our home, which would make it harder for me, and recapping in case you weren’t paying attention, that’s the opposite of the bloody goal!” she said through her teeth and started counting with her fingers. “It’s also not like we’re going to hire a nanny, because neither you or I want a stranger raising our child! And you’re asking me to put my life on hold for another three or four years.”
He nodded, hugging her when a sob stopped her from saying anything else.
“You’re not here, it’s just me and Rosie. I’m going crazy. I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t think I can do this. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I don’t know myself anymore Henry!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” he whispered into her hair, trying to be strong for her despite the burning in his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want you to feel stuck at home with her. I want you two to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
He ran his hands up and down her back in a soothing manner and pulled away, enough to cup her face and wipe the tears with his thumbs. From the way her eyes swept over his face, he knew he probably didn’t do a good job at hiding how much the whole thing hurt him.
“Let’s go to bed. We’re both too tired. I’ll take care of her in the morning, okay?” he suggested and she nodded her agreement before he finished talking. “I’ll make sure we don’t wake you and I hope you’ll get to sleep in.”
“With my luck,” she replied and sniffled, “I’ll probably wake up as soon as the bed gets cold.”
She didn’t wake up.
That morning was spent with half of his brain mulling over everything said the night before. His mind was racing in search for a solution they could compromise on as he helped Rose add blueberries to her yogurt, while he tied her curls in two pigtails and while he took her to the playgroup on the stroller because she didn’t want to walk.
After the long conversation that demanded the presence of the teacher, the school’s counselor and a representative for the administration because of the reoccurrence, he walked out of there with Rose’s sleeping breath fanning his neck and her little fist crumpling the front of his shirt.
Sending his wife a text explaining what had happened, he decided to spend the day out and about with his daughter. He definitely did not want to fight, and after hearing the school’s opinion on the matter, he was even more convinced that she’d have to meet him halfway.
Despite his detailed text message, when he entered the house after five pm, she was mad all the same.
He walked past her without any words, taking Rose to bed, removing her shoes, loosening her hair out of the ties and kissing her forehead.
Leaving the door slightly ajar he drew in a deep breath and went back down the stairs.
“Do you want to go first? Because when I start I really don’t want you to interrupt me.” he said to his wife as he sat on the couch opposite her.
He didn’t like the whole situation. He didn’t like that it brought so much division between them. He even hated the coffee table between them.
“Fine. Go.” she said quietly and crossed her arms.
“Do you hate me for going back to work? Do you want me to take full custody of Rose?”
She blanched at the implications of his words.
“No! What the fuck does that mean? I love her! I love you! I’m just extremely exhausted and that does not help, Henry!”
He nodded, losing steam. Spilling all he wanted to say would only add to the burden she felt she had to carry. After a deep sigh she continued.
“I think it’s quite unfair of you to want me to stay with her 24/7.”
And just like that, his anger flared again.
“You did say, before we married, that you were okay with being a mum, that you understood that these first years would demand more of you. I was sure that it was fine with you being a stay-at-home mum.” he leaned on his elbows, towards her, and shook his head after speaking.
Her mouth went slack with the customary silent ‘oh’, testifying to her deep indignation.
“Is that what this whole argument is about?” she asked quietly.
“Fuck, this is coming out all wrong!” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment and running a hand through his hair . “Listen, all I want is for you to be there for her, be it physically or emotionally, finding a place that’s more suitable. I really did not like the way the school handled it this morning, and I would very much like for Rose not to go back to a place where she feels unhappy enough to hurt other children!”
She fell silent. Her face screamed her desire to protest his words or something he’d said, but he was glad she didn’t add oil to the fire.
“I guess we’re all unhappy.” he finally said looking at the floor. “I think I’m going to take her and spend the weekend with my parents.”
“Without me?”
“Yes, without you. It will give you some time to rest, recharge. To do whatever you want or need to do without worrying about meals to prepare and nappies to change. Focus on things that make you happy, that would make this life more bearable for you.”
“Henry, look at me.”
He did, and the pain contorting her features prevented him from hiding his tears any longer.
“I just want what’s best for her.” he whispered around the lump in his throat.
“So do I. But I can’t guarantee that if I’m unhappy, Henry.” she replied between sobs. “Taking her away only makes me feel worse. Why don’t you just throw in my face that I’m a bad mum?”
There were so many words that he wished to say. So many words that he wanted to get off his chest.
He bit them back, crossing the living room and kneeling on the floor next to her on the armchair.
“You’re not a bad mum. You’re the best mum. You’re so caring, so patient, selfless and so, so strong. You go above and beyond for her. I see that. I see that you’re doing the best you can under so much strain. I love you so much!” her fingers were cold when he touched the hand lying on her knee, so he held both of her hands in his.
There was only sniffing and tears filling the quiet void that followed his words.
Warmer hands held his back when he decided to break that silence.
“Could you please make this sacrifice? For me? For us? All of us? I don’t want her to stop playing with other kids, she likes that. I just want you to make sure that the place where she’s playing is a place that nurtures her mentally.”
He paused examining her still tear-streaked face. It was probably a mirror of his own.
“I can get a driver to take her wherever you believe she’ll adapt best.” he pleaded.
He knew she’d hate the idea before her head started shaking minutely. But she said nothing against it.
“I believe it’s the closest we’ll come to an agreement.” she finally whispered after sniffling and wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. “I’ll start looking on Monday.”
“Thank you. And while you’re at it, maybe you could look into a place where she could go more than just a couple of days a week?” he said, getting up and planting a kiss on the crown of her head. “Have you eaten?”
“I think that’s an excellent idea.” she answered absentmindedly, and added,”I ate a granola bar, just before you arrived.”
“Want me to cook you something?” he asked, stopping halfway to the kitchen.
“Have you eaten?” she asked, her voice still far away.
“Yes. We had hamburgers.” he replied before adding with a halfhearted smile, “Well, she ate half of her hamburger, I ate mine and the other half. She inhaled the chips though.”
“Oh. Did she eat your chips too?”
“A fair amount. So, what do you feel like?”
“I’m not hungry.” she answered.
“Okay.” he said, sighing and making for the stairs once more. “If you need me, I’ll be packing her bag.”
The fifth step creaked under his feet before she spoke.
“Why can’t you?”
“‘Why can’t I’ what?” he asked, puzzlement clear in his tone.
“Why can’t you make that sacrifice?” she asked again, looking at nothing in particular.
“Are you asking me why I can’t stay at home?” the disbelief on his tone brought her eyes to his. She nodded.
“Why I can’t sacrifice my whole career, is that seriously what you want to know?” he continued, going back down the stairs and kneeling before her once more.
“Aren’t these first years of her development as important to you? Isn’t your presence just as necessary?” she asked quietly.
He was finally done with holding back tears. Letting his head hang low, he sobbed.
She let him cry, caressing his curls when he leaned his forehead on her knee.
“Of course it is.” he rasped between sobs. “But I don’t want to lose everything I worked so hard to achieve. Do you think I want to be away from her? From you both? Honestly? Do you think it is an ego thing?”
“Henry, I…” she started, but he interrupted her.
“I’m afraid. Is that what you want to hear? I’m fucking terrified there will be nothing for me if I go back to work years from now. And what terrifies me the most is the possibility of resenting you or Rosie.”
He shook his head and got up, wiping a hand over his face.
“Won’t you resent your career eventually for taking you away from her? From the both of us?” she asked, earnestly.
That gave him pause. He walked back to the couch on the other side of the room and let himself sink down on the leather.
She was right.
He was so focused on the life he could be missing out there, he hadn’t considered what would happen when he took on longer contracts.
Images of Rose’s first birthday flashed in his mind. It hurt imagining being on the other side of the world and missing her second, less than two months away.
The reality was harsh anyway.
“Why is what I do so different from other fathers who work eight or ten hours away, everyday? Or from those who work twelve-hour shifts? I just do that for fewer months.” he complained, reasoning more with himself than with her. “I could audition only for jobs that would keep me closer to home. Or work on only one big production per year.”
He paused, lifting his misty eyes to meet hers after almost boring a hole on the carpet.
“But if you already feel overwhelmed with my short trips, I can’t see how you wouldn’t hate me if I had to be on set for any longer periods of time.”
Taking a tissue from the box she had thankfully brought back from the kitchen, he blew his nose.
“I just need to feel like an adult again. Like I can be more than just a ‘mum’, confined to the limits of these walls and the walk to the nursery or the supermarket.” she paused. “I’m just so tired. So done. Why is that so hard for you to accept?”
“It isn’t.” She rolled her eyes in disbelief, but he insisted. “It really isn’t. I get it. Or, at least, I’m trying to.”
Nodding, she got up and sat next to him on the couch.
“We need help. I don’t want you to feel like this anymore.” he whispered, bringing her closer to his chest and wrapping her in his arms.
“Without bringing a stranger to our home?” she asked, her words muffled into his shirt. “I don’t see how.”
Henry sighed after several minutes in silence, expelling all the negative energy from his body, as he lay his cheek on the crown of her head.
“I will think about this some more during these days we’re away. I’ll talk to my parents as well if that’s okay with you.”
She nodded, humming her approval.
“I’ll do the same from here. I’ll text you if I come up with any good ideas.” she said.
“I’d prefer you to just relax and not worry, but that’s not going to happen, is it?” he asked, smiling.
“Nope.”
He could feel her smile and some of the tension leaving her.
“You know me better than that.” she added.
“I do.” he replied, chuckling, and after a moment added, “Will you talk to me before it gets this bad next time, after we find a solution and if you ever feel like that again, please?”
She pulled away from him slightly, enough to look him in the eyes, and nodded.
He kissed her forehead.
“I already walked Kal.” she said.
“That’s why he’s so quiet.” he replied. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat anything?”
“If I feel hungry, I’ll make a sandwich. Don’t worry.” she answered and let out a heavy sigh. “I just hope that all of this is going to be worth our while and that she’ll stop biting other children.”
“If she doesn’t, at least I know a psychologist.” he remarked.
He felt her soft laughter, and with a soft click of his tongue, he continued.
“You know what? You should start your relaxing right now. Forget the problems and go find yourself again. Just keep in mind that we love you. I love you very much and I’ll do my best to make things better from now on.”
“Thank you. I’m gonna take you up on that offer.” she said and planted a kiss on his lips. “If I fall asleep and don’t see you off, tell Rosie I love her. Be safe. I love you, too.”
🍔🍟🍔🍟🍔🍟🍔🍟🍔🍟🍔🍟🍔🍟🍔🍟
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starkatana · 5 years ago
Text
Want You Back
Song Inspo: Want You Back – 5SOS
I just started playing, Obey Me! And I love Mammon as a character. I don’t really know whats going on in the story since I’m not that far. This just popped into my head, and I couldn’t get it out, and I had to share!
I aged the MC up so everyone is more college-age/esque. IDK if it was meant to be high school, but we’re going to go the college route.
Story: You go back to the mortal world after the exchange program, the feelings that go with it, and how Mammon wants you back.
Mammon x Gender Neutral Reader
Note: You have two moms and 2 corgis
Outside the House of Lamentation:
Mammon POV:
“Fucking rain,” Mammon said, wiping off the back of his hand on his pants.
The other brothers shared concern looks amongst each other. You had just left Hell for your home in the mortal world.
No one said anything. Lucifer was the first to start heading inside. As he walked back towards the house, he stopped next to Mammon.
“It doesn’t rain in Hell.” And he continued his walk inside.
Mammon brought his face up and realized his mistake. Tearing rushing down his face as his brothers slowly walked past him one-by-one, not saying anything. He hung his head low and let the tears fall.
5 minutes ago:
MC POV:
The day has come, your last day at the House of Lamentation. You finished your transfer year at the Royal Academy of Diavolo with flying colors academically and with no shortage of mischief and drama. You were leaving with plenty of memories. It was bittersweet to bid your demon family good-bye.
Everyone is outside to see you off while you waited for the light portal to appear. The six brothers and yourself in reminiscent conversation, while Mammon stood off to the side. You didn’t blame him for distancing himself. You had just broken it off between the two of you a few weeks ago. You pretended not to let it bother you, hoping it’ll help you heal faster. But it was just like him to stand off to the side to pout.
“Hey, Mammon.” You call over to him. He quickly looks over, as hard as he was trying to pretend he’s uninterested, his answer was immediate when you called for him. Also, you decided not to overthink it, you two did have a pact made and spent the entire last year together. Yet this is THE Great Mammon you’re talking about, if he’s mad at you, you would know. He just wasn’t good at pretending like he didn’t care.
He raises an eyebrow at you.
“Don’t ever change.” You say with a smile.
His eyes narrow, and he gives you a smirk before quickly looking away.
Mammon POV:
Say something, idiot!
Mammon racked his brain as he searched for the right words to say anything to you. Not to make you stay. Not even for you to take him back. Just anything so you know what he’ll miss you, that he’ll try to get in contact with you. Anything, so it seemed like he cares. Cause even though you broke up with him, he still cared about you. Although your choice was stupid, there was no way he was going to give you up that easily. Everything that went through his mind just sounded insane. He already messed it up a few weeks ago when you did break up with him, and he couldn’t trust his brain to come up with anything better than "k."
That’s when the light portal appeared.
All the conversation at that moment stopped, and everyone looked up at the portal, almost as if no one was expecting it.
“Well,” Lucifer began, “This is good-bye.” He gives you one last hug, and Mammon felt angry. Being Greed, he never shared his things, not saying you were an item, but he was pouting because you were leaving.
“Bye, Lucy.” He watched as you hugged him back and slowly went around the group of brothers.
“Visit us soon.”
“We’ll try to see if we can have you back during your holiday season.”
“Miss you.”
Everyone's voice, talking over another doing final good-byes giving their last hugs, made Mammon dizzy. You weren’t dying, just going home. He knew you were going to be back for visits here and there. As if Lucifer couldn’t pull a few strings with Diavolo.
“Mammon.”
Your voice takes him out of his thoughts. He looks at you, eyes, and heart feeling hopeful.
You hold your hand out, “Thanks.”
He feels his heart drop. Seriously? That’s all you’re going to offer him after a year of nearly being together, granted the first month or two it took a while for him to adjust to having someone boss him around. Just pull them in for a hug. He tried to bargain with himself. Kiss them! Don’t cry! He bit his bottom lip and had to make a quick decision, “tsk.” He looks away, but takes your hand and gives it a small shake.
“Seriously?” Asmo cocked an eyebrow at the two. Satan elbows him in the gut.
“We’ll miss you -name-,” Lucifer said one last time. “Hopefully, we’ll be in touch soon.”
You smile and nod, “Alright, everyone. Make sure to take care of each other.” You put your backpack on and taking one last look at the seven of them, your gaze lingers on Mammon longer, but his eyes won’t meet yours. You smile, “I love you all.” And you walk out.
The light fades away, and it’s just the seven demon brothers left with heavy hearts and happy memories.
MC POV:
Stepping out of the light column, you jump in your seat. You’re in your mom’s car as she’s driving.
“Bad dream?”
You look over at your mom. It had felt so long since you last saw her. You smile at her and shake your head no. “Sorry, I dozed off.”
She chuckles, “Don’t worry about it; you’re adjusting to the time change.”
“Yeah…I guess you can say that.”
You lean against the car door and look out the window up at the sky. You are seeing the clear blue sky above you and the sun shining bright. Compared to Hell’s sky, it was always in a transition state of yellow to red or blue to purple. The sky had one large moon during the day and two large moons in the evening. Seeing the one sun and the bright blue sky felt foreign, but you were home.
Your mom pulled into the driveway, and you saw your mom standing outside the door with your two corgis.
“Welcome home, honey!” your other mom greeted you from the front door as you stepped out of the car.
You smile and wave, feeling as if you had never left as your corgis come up to love you.
She came out and hugged you. “How was your time abroad?”
You were confused, but when you went to answer, you felt the memories being added.
Something Diavolo told you about before you went home.
“After this year, when you go back to the mortal realm, you will retain your memories here, but you will also gain memories as if you were living in the human world.”
“So, I’m living two lives in the same year as my life?”
“I suppose so.” He gives you a sneaky smile, “Paperwork is just so much easier this way, and no one knows you’re missing.”
“Interesting…”
“Isn’t it? You’re living a full extra year without even needing to take an extra year!”
This is what he must’ve been talking about. You remembered your time in Paris outside of the Eiffel Tower. The smell of the French countryside and the small town you took a trip to — the wine from the vineyard and tasting you had with your friends. Late-night strolls on the cobblestone streets with Mammon. You snapped yourself out of your memories.
“It was fun.” You told your mom, feeling almost as if it was a lie.
“C’mon! Let’s bring your stuff inside, and you can tell us all about it.”
Later that evening, after dinner, you close yourself in your room to unpack and unwind after your “trip back.” You stop and think about all of your memories in Hell at the same time the ones in Paris appeared. As you tried to remember something from your time in Hell, something from Paris came up, and they began to meld together. Even though you were sure, you and Mammon had never gone to Paris. You chuckled, memories, so weak and fragile. Yet, it was all we had. Lucifer would find this conversation so fascinating. Beel would’ve loved your parent’s dinner. Levi would be so jealous that you can go to all the anime conventions now that you’re back. You knew Belphe would love to take a nap outside with your dogs in the sun. Asmo and Satan would appreciate the story of how your moms fought for their love. You began to tear up, man, you missed them all so much already, and it hadn’t even been a day. And…you remember how Mammon would barely look at you before you left.
Now came the waterworks, you squished your cheeks together, how Mammon would make you laugh and tell you to live in the moment, how he would comfort you when you were feeling down or missing home. Then you broke up with him. The tears wouldn’t stop. You pull out your D.D.D., it turned on and showed you all the messages you shared with the boys, your voicemails, photos, it was all still there.
You open up your “mortal” phone and looking at it. There were all “your pictures” and “fake” memories of you in France with your friends and classmates. You put your phone down and look back at your D.D.D. knowing full well it wasn’t going to work in the mortal world.
You go to your chat with Mammon and just try to send a message, you type out “hey.” Slowly one button at a time, as if the screen would just shut off or shatter with a touch. You hovered over the send button. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he’s so mad that he just ignores it or just says something cruel and blocks you? You made up scenarios, scared and anxious.
Yet, all of these things would only come true. If it even sends.
What did you have to lose? You had already broken up with him. Your good-byes were said. You sucked in a deep breath and pressed send. The message went through as usual, and you felt pleasantly surprised like a weight was taken off your chest, and the ball was now in Mammon’s court. Your celebration was short-lived because another screen appeared saying “Message not sent. Retry?” You give a sad chuckle, of course. You pressed no and lay back in your bed. Staring at the ceiling all too familiar as you did in Hell, this felt unfamiliar. “I wonder how you’re doing.”
Mammon POV:
Mammon felt his phone buzz in his pants pocket. His heart skipped a beat. He hoped it would be you. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and there’s nothing on the screen.
Phantom Phone. He narrows his eyes at the screen, hoping if he gave it an extra second that something would pop up. Nothing did. “I wasn’t expecting anything anyway.”
“Are you talking to your phone?” Beel blinked at him. Making Mammon feel as if he had finally lost his marbles.
Mammon, startled by Beel’s sudden appearance, just frowned at him, “Don’t you have a pantry to eat?”
“I do.” He shrugged. “I just saw you in here by yourself, thought to stop, and see how you’re doing.”
“Great.” He shoved his phone in his pocket and shrugs his shoulders, “I’m glad they're gone. Always making too much noise. Laughing too much…”
“Sounds like you miss them.”
“Me? The Great Mammon!” He laughed, “I don’t miss anyone. Least of all, a lowly human.”
“You two dated?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mammon shrugged his shoulders and walked away from the lounge room and Beel.
Unintentionally and habitually, Mammon’s feet took him to your room. He stood outside the closed door. He felt like a dingus showing up in front of your door again. It had been just a few weeks since you had broken up with him, but he still walked you to your room, hung out with you, and said good-night as friends. Now that you were gone, he was agitated that he was still doing this. He frowned as he reached for the doorknob and opened the door. The lights were off, the bed was made, and the room was clean. Your stuff was gone, and the only things that remained were the basics that the room came with. Yet, Mammon could still see your room. He could see the warm Christmas lights that lined your ceiling for after scary movie nights, your large fluffy quilt blanket he’d wrap himself in after a long day, and you’d pet his hair.  He could see the three different pairs of slippers you had in your room ready for use at all times, and he’d steal or use just to see you pout. It was all gone as if it was never here, just like you.
“Dammit.”
He turned around and quickly walked towards his room, ignoring everyone. Getting to his room, he slams the door shut and falls onto his bed. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He turned his head to the side, thinking he saw a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye.
He remembered the freckles on your back and how he’d trace them at night or count them to help him sleep. How you’d be the little spoon, and he’d snuggle his head in the crook of your neck. Sometimes when you were in a goofy mood, your neck would be ticklish, and he’d just always make you laugh. Your laugh was music to his ears. He loved making you laugh more than he loved being the one to do it.
He shook his head. “C’mon Mammon.” He turned over on his other side, not to look at your side of the bed. He forced himself into the middle to sleep. Trying to remember what it felt like to not have you around and who he was before you.
MC POV:
“What? You’re breaking up with me?”
You roll your eyes to hold back the tears, “I guess I am.”
“I’m Greed! You can’t just break up with me.”
“Mammon! I’m going back to the human world. You can’t come with me. My D.D.D. isn’t going to work. This isn’t going to work.”
“We made a pact.”
“And I’m letting you loose.”
“What?”
And with those words, there was a soft blue light between you two that broke the pact you made earlier that year. The tears began to fall now, this isn’t what you wanted, but it’s what felt fair. You couldn’t stay here, and he couldn’t live up there. This was the only thing you guys could do. Break up, say good-bye, and meet in another life?
You were warned not to fall in love with anyone, and you tried not to, but there was just something about this loveable idiot that you couldn’t resist his idiotic charm.
Mammon grabs his wrist, “I’m always going to want you back.”
“This isn’t fair!” you cry as you throw your arms around his waist in a hug, “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“Shh.” He rubs your back, “We’re going to be okay. We’ll make it work.”
“No.” You pull yourself away from him. “I’m sorry, Mammon. This is goodbye.”
The look in his eyes and on his face hurt you. It was all you could see. What could you say or do next? This was the only way for you both to move on. After all, a demon and a human don’t belong together.
“Earth to –name-!”
Your mom’s voice pulls you out of your daydream. You shake your head to help you come back to reality. You’re sitting at your kitchen table with one of your moms in front of you pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“Not awake yet? Do you need another cup?”
“Yeah.” You rub your eyes to help you wake up.
“Man, you’ve just been in a daze since you’ve been home. Feeling wanderlusty?” she teased.
“Yeah….you could say that.” You sigh, feeling your heavy heart.
“Now, tell me about France. What was your favorite thing you ate? What was your favorite thing to do? You meet any cute people?” Your mom winked at you.
Oh god, she knows.
Mammon POV:
“You’re not going to the human world.” Lucifer sighed matter-of-factly, not looking up from his paperwork, sounding less than interested in Mammon’s issues.
“To hell, I’m not going!” Mammon slammed his hands on Lucifer’s desk, “I’m going up there to see them, and there’s nothing you can say or do to stop me.”
Lucifer stops what he is doing, and Mammon felt a cold sweat go down his spine. Without putting the pen down, Lucifer looks up at Mammon, cocks an eyebrow at him, and asks, “Then why are you here?”
Mammon stands up straight, surprised that that was what his brother had to say. He was surprised with a slightly puzzled look. Is this a trap? More questions raced through his mind. Do I ask about the consequences? Should I just shut up and leave? Lucifer knows now. So, no harm, no foul? Mammon’s eyes shifted from Lucifer’s cold, bored stare and to the floor. What do I say?! What do I DO?!
Lucifer cracked Mammon, a devious smile. He laced his fingers together and gently placed his chin on them. “Now.” Lucifer began, taking Mammon out of his internal dilemma, “If nothing is stopping you. Why are you asking me?”
Mammon grew a big goofy grin, never one to hide his feelings or true intentions. “I’m leaving.”
Mammon turned his back to Lucifer to leave and made a quick mental note that moving forward. He’s just going to do things as they come to him and apologize for it later. If he even remembers to apologize after his lecture.
“Mammon.”
“What?” he turns around to look at his brother, still at his desk, now leaning back in his chair with an ever so small and genuine Lucifer smile. “Behave~.”
Mammon gave him a wink and a quick sailor’s salute. Without saying it, that was Lucifer’s blessing, and Mammon was GONE before Lucifer could change his mind.
MC POV:
You had only been home in the moral world for a week, and life felt “normal.” As in, no one was stalking you like prey, you could go to the store without a demon brother as protection, the days were bright, and the nights were dark. Everything was just normal. You adjusted back to your home life with your moms and corgis as if last year was just a dream. Your Hell memories and your fake memories became one that you weren’t even sure if they were even fake anymore. It was turning into an ordinary day in your regular life.
“Time to go on a walk, buddy?”
Ein, the corgi, barked, excited as he jumped at the door and wiggled his butt in anticipation of you to open it. You laugh. “Hold on, buddy.” You put the leash on his collar and his sister’s. As you opened the door, there was a car in your street. That’s when you saw him. His tan skin glowed under the warm summer sun. His white hair shined under the sun’s reflection, you could tell by his posture and demeanor with him leaning up against his car, arms crossed, and smirk on his face.
“Mammon…” you whisper. You lose your grip on their leash, too excited to see Mammon.
“Bark! Bark!” Ein runs out the door and straight for him.
“Ein!”
You run after him. Mammon catches him and gets down to give him some pets. You walk over to him. Pinch me. I’m dreaming.
“How are you, my majesty?” he asks, looking up at you.
“I just can’t believe you’re here.” You were breathless; he was here and was real. You took hold of Ein’s leash as his sister his behind you, “but did you have to be so flashy!” You gestured to his Aston Martin, “In the middle of my middle-class neighborhood!?”
He laughs, standing up, towering over you. He throws his arms up in defeat, followed by a shoulder shrug.
You shake your head and start wiping away your tears past your smile.
“Ah! Why are you crying?!”
You laugh, “I’m just happy.”
“Heh.” Mammon gives you his Mammon smirk, “C’mere.”
You stand up on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him, “You’re real.”
“I missed you.” He wrapped his arms around you and leaned his head on your shoulder, burying his face in your neck.
“It hasn’t even been a week.” You let out a light laugh.
“I just wanted you back.”
---
Thanks for reading! Now just imagine that after this, everyone comes up to the mortal world to visit and ruins Mammon’s alone time with you.
105 notes · View notes
pompadourpink · 5 years ago
Note
Hi River, You have me some advice earlier, and it really hurt at the time but I think it was helpful. Right now, I’m really jealous on one of my friends. She’s beautiful, parties most nights, has tons of friends, and is still doing pretty well GPA-wise in school. I have very few friends, am fairly pretty but not as pretty, work 20+ hours a week and am taking 20 credit hours at school (a full time student takes 12-15). How can I stop comparing myself and be happy? I’ve made so few friends I’m (1
considering studying abroad, largely so I have a chance to start over and hopefully make friends. I even joined a sorority and haven’t made pretty much any friends there. This girl is very popular in her sorority, and while she’s one of my closest friends I don’t even think I’m in top 10 for her.
*
Hello!
I think I know who you are. I’m sorry I hurt you, I did feel harsh at the time but I’ve been in your shoes and giving too much importance to stupid boys is a mistake I wish I hadn’t made!
The people from HS are mostly around you because you happen to be there, and once you’re out you will most likely stop hearing from them after a couple years. The popular ones rarely are for good reasons: if you’ve seen Friends, you’ll remember Monica having dinner with her former crush (who wouldn’t look at her because she was fat) and coming back home to tell Rachel that she had always wanted a date with that guy from school, and that tonight, she had had a date with that guy from school; because he never changed. He was still the same guy with the same social group, except now he was older and had a crappy job instead (which turns him into a loser), whereas she’d bettered herself, met wonderful people, got stronger, and had a great career.
That girl seems to have a pretty good life, but you don’t know what’s behind the curtains. Maybe her beauty is causing her trust issues, maybe she’s insecure, maybe home is a nightmare, etc. 
I’m an introvert, so going out all night is something you couldn’t pay me for. Being a party animal is not inherently a good thing (and messes with your liver, your eardrums, and your sleeping habits, which are extremely important).
In my experience, people who have ‘a lot of friends’ are actually pretty lonely, because they don’t have a deep relationship with them. People you get drunk with or text when you have a question about homework are acquaintances. Friends go grocery shopping for you when you’re sick, have met your parents, might even have their phone number; carry painkillers for your headaches, and take you in when you have a broken heart. 
Physical beauty and an apparently filled social life don’t mean much. I look up to those who know what they want and work hard for it, get back on their feet when they fall,  choose to be kind and generous when it’s much easier to be a selfish trashbag. Imagine a kid losing his parents in a crowd: would the people you’re jealous of reassure him and help finding his family, or look away because it’s not their problem?
Studying abroad will expand your mind, teach you a new way of life, another language, and change you for the better. That’s the best decision you could be making. You’re also working hard, taking more credits than others, trying to better yourself and grow. That’s way more than most people can say. 
I’d be ready to bet that you are that girl to someone else. 
Let me tell you a story.
When I was in high school, I was part of a small alternative group that didn’t blend in (emo, goth, queer, excentric, into bod mod, you name it). We kept to ourselves, thought people didn’t like us. I left in 2010 and moved away. In 2014, I was working on my master’s degree and part-time in a school (thus had gone a bit more traditional looks-wise), and decided to sell unused books to make money. Some girl who was following me answered my tweet, came to my house, and we started chatting. She was lacking self-confidence, desperately trying to find her place, have better grades, etc. Didn’t have a lot of friends, didn’t feel good about herself, like she wasn’t enough.
She mentioned a group of people who inspired her with she was in high school, people who made her realize that life was more than fear and anxiety. People she never approached, because she thought she was bland and they wouldn’t like her. Two of the girls had flaming red hair, wore black, were like sisters, and she wished she had that kind of relationship with someone, but also the guts to do whatever she wanted with her looks, regardless of what people thought. She pointed at the chin piercing she was wearing, a tribute to one of them.
I asked her the name of that high school.
Guess what?
Guess who has two thumbs, a chin piercing and dyed her hair in high school?
When I mentioned this story to my not-sister, whom I was still close to, she informed her family, in particular her youngest sister, as she was a high school student at that very school at the time. And that sister explained that, as it turns out, we made history. That people were still talking about us. They didn’t know us, didn’t know our names, hadn’t seen pictures. We all had left before they even got there. But, somehow, they knew about our weird little group of black sheep, thought it was great, and tried to reenact it.
And that is to this day my fucking coolest legacy.
You can start over any day, anytime. If someone looks cool, go to them, start a conversation (using their outfit, something you know they like, a common hobby, whatever works) - if they shoot you down, at least you know, and you won’t have regrets. Here’s a consensus: the more you grow, the more frustrated you get, realizing how many amazing opportunities you turned down because you were scared. You won’t regret trying things that didn’t work out, you will regret not daring, not trying things because what if, and never knowing how it would have worked out, because it was a one-time occasion.
When I was the age I’m guessing you are, I started running, went vegetarian, learned how to cook, switched to a menstrual cup, stopped smoking, became fluent in English, traveled, decluttered my life, got very interested in politics, and reconciled with my dad. I also made my fair share of mistakes: I dated horrible people, got very drunk one time and puked on my neighbours’ car (then quit drinking entirely), spent money I didn’t have on things I didn’t need, worked 80 hours a week and nearly destroyed myself, etc.
What’s important now is you. Check your priorities: what do you want to be? Who do you want to be? What do you want for your life? Do you want to see the world, to fall in love, to be fluent in five languages, to have your own company, to settle down somewhere in the mountains?
The time you’re spending now looking over the fence is time you will never get back. You’re worrying about friendship stats, dear god! Focus on your studies,  your health, better yourself, start planning for the future, find out what it is that you want out of life. Beauty comes with confidence (and age, I find: my bone structure changed when I was in my early twenties). Do things that scare you, have goals that seem unreachable, do your thing and have fun doing it. It will make you more attractive than you can imagine.
Love,
Mum
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geekgirles · 5 years ago
Text
Adrien Protection Squad
So, I as said the other day, I got inspired by @juhavs ‘s post and I decided to write a fic (currently a one-shot, maybe I’ll write more chapters with time) about the guys and Marinette teaming up to keep Adrien away and safe from Lila and her clingy tendencies. By the way, this fic has some ships and mention of ships because… Well, I’m a shipper first and a person second, I have no excuse other than that. But please, do respect the ships that appear and don’t throw hate at me for them, that’s all I ask for. Also, a huge thank you to my beta @ren-sauce!!
@teresarosiadeviluke2112 @tressa-rose @kamihime @souleateralicestein I think you guys wanted to read it, please enjoy ;)
Nino kept staring at the picture in his phone. He still didn’t understand what happened; the very same day the photo was sent, the girl appearing in it had assured him she felt no romantic feelings for his best friend, also in the image, and yet, there she was, taking a selfie of her kissing his cheek.
As for Adrien, he was smiling. But it was a hesitant smile, forced, as if he’d just found himself in a trap. No matter the circumstances, it felt wrong. And the worst part? Nino was pretty sure it’d been his fault. Like he shouldn’t have trusted Lila in the first place.
As he let his mind question everything that might’ve led to that, Kim, Ivan and Max were getting closer to him, chatting amicably until they noticed the DJ’s sullen expression.
“Dude”, Kim broke the silence, “what’s got you so down? You’re practically making a hole to your cell phone by looking so hard.” When Nino showed them the picture their eyes widened. “Wait, Adrien and Lila are a thing? Why doesn’t anybody ever tell us anything?!”
“No, Kim, they’re not. But I can’t help but feel this whole deal is my fault, dudes…” Nino lamented, shielding his face with his hands and sighing tiredly.
“What do you mean “your fault”?” asked Ivan.
And so, Nino told them everything. From the part when he found Lila walking to school looking sad about not being able to go with her mother abroad because she had to catch up on schoolwork, to the part he’d received a photo of her kissing Adrien after he’d set them up to help her with homework because she had sworn she wasn’t in love with the model. 
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think she lied to me!” Nino said.
“Now, now, let’s not accuse people of things we don’t know about.” Max defended, as he adjusted his glasses “It is highly unlikely of Lila to lie about something, especially when it comes to her feelings and grades. Besides, there’s always a logical explanation.”
“I don’t know, dude. Adrien does act like he prefers to be away from Lila for some reason.” The model’s best friend remembered, still not sure of what to think or do. “Just the other day, when Lila came, he eagerly took me aside to study for the exam we were taking that day.”
“I think we need a third-no wait, we’re already four-, a fifth person’s opinion. But who could know about what’s going on with Lila and Adrien, though?” The athlete of the group wondered.
“We could always go to the Liberty and ask Marinette.” suggested Ivan. “She said she’d meet Luka and I there today to prepare for Kitty Section’s next show, since Juleka and Rose had to run some errands.”
The boys exchanged a look. It was undeniable that Marinette was one of Adrien’s closest friends too, and she obviously cared a lot for him, in love with him or not, but she also didn’t think highly of Lila, so, perhaps, her opinion wouldn’t be the most objective one. 
As the guys pondered their options, Nino furrowed his brow. Marinette had exclusively told him and Alya she’d followed the both of them on Lila’s first day of school, claiming that event verified her suspicions of the girl being dishonest about her accomplishments. However, as crazy or wrong as it looked like when she first told them, now her words didn’t sound half as absurd as they did then.
While the others were arguing about which course of action to take, the DJ spoke up, “Guys, let’s go talk to Marinette.”
The young designer had, ironically, found herself an oasis of peace and calm in the chaotic boat belonging to the Couffaine family. Whilst she didn’t spend nearly as much of her time there as the members of the band did, she certainly enjoyed herself whenever she visited. Those visits allowed her to see the most passionate and creative side of her quietest classmates, and, if that wasn’t wonderfully touching enough, she could be a part of it by creating their outfits or recording their sessions. 
It was, in general, a nice, soothing environment she cherished dearly.
At that moment, she was spending some alone time with the blue-haired guitarist of the band, which made her heart beat a little faster and her cheeks feel a little hotter than usual. Marinette was sketching some of her latest ideas for the band’s next costumes, while she listened to Juleka’s brother playing a sweet tune with his guitar.
It was an odd experience, being alone with Luka. But in the good way. While the guitarist had a knack for making her lose her head, she wasn’t nearly as nervous nor stuttered half as much as she did around Adrien, making every single moment they spent together much more precious for her. Still, it was too soon to tell if she could move on from Adrien with him; on the one hand, the model seemed to be getting closer to Kagami every passing day, but on the other, he still found his way to her heart; be it a gentle smile, or a reassuring, well-meaning gesture. It didn’t matter, one of those and she was a goner.
As the pair of teenagers minded their own business, they were suddenly surrounded by the guys, startling them. Curiously enough, they all looked rather bashful, and even hesitant to even be there.
Leaving the weirdness of the scenery aside, Marinette greeted them nonetheless. “Um… Hi, guys! Did Ivan invite you all to come see the rehearsal?”
“Uh, no, actually.” Nino began, feeling nervous about the whole situation. Never mind that, though, they needed to know if his bro needed help or not. “We wanted to ask you which is your opinion of Lila and Adrien, Marinette.”
The baker’s daughter was taken aback. Did anything happen that she didn’t know of? 
Oh, no! Did Lila lie about me? Wait, even worse! Did she lie about her relationship with Adrien again!? Ugh, that brat!
The group of boys waited, anxious, except for Luka, who was just merely curious about the unexpected turn of events. Depending on Marinette’s answer they may have to come up with methods of protecting Adrien without being rude to the new girl, she likely didn’t deserve to be excluded. Right?
Finally, the designer spoke, mirth completely gone. “Whatever Lila’s told you about me, or her “relationship” with Adrien, is a lie. Don’t listen to her.”
That answer surprised everyone present; there surely had to be something going on for Marinette to reply like that before anything else!
“Marinette,” Kim tried to calm her down, “she hasn’t said anything about you or Adrien, but…”
“But?” Marinette arched an eyebrow.
“But, apparently, despite telling Nino she didn’t have a crush on Adrien, she sent a selfie where she was kissing him on the cheek. And Adrien… he doesn’t look particularly comfortable about it. What can you tell us about that?” Max completed for his friend.
If Marinette was suspicious before, now she was fuming. Kissing Adrien! On the cheek! And sending the picture! Without his permission! After telling Nino she didn’t see him as a potential boyfriend!? That… That was low, that was underhanded, that was vile, that-that was… Something Lila would do without batting an eyelash.
Despite all the scorn and rage she was feeling towards the brunette, Marinette managed to remain relatively calm. “The answer’s easy: Lila lied about not liking Adrien.” She said as she watched her friends’ eyes widen and their jaws slightly drop.
The boys exchanged nervous glances, the noirette had been a lot more blunt than they’d expected, even the blue-haired musician was slightly taken aback. Max, however, despite being the most rational person present, insisted on giving the Italian girl the benefit of the doubt. Probably because she’d promised him she’d take him with her to see the particle accelerator. 
“Marinette, we understand if, for whatever reason, you dislike Lila. But you shouldn’t accuse her of deceiving Nino so easily, perhaps, she kissed Adrien as a way of saying “thank you”, we don’t know if that’s just an Italian custom we do not share. 
“Not to mention, if you’re saying she lied about something like that, you are lowkey implying she has been dishonest about everything else. Which is highly unlikely because we’ve seen Chloé doing far more impressive things thanks to her father’s connections, so maybe- Marinette, did you just throw a napkin at my face?”
“Yup” she replied as nonchalantly as possible. “Why? Did it hurt you?”
“Of course not!” The young genius replied, obviously offended. “I am aware I’m not the most physically adept specimen there is, but do you really take me for such a weakling?”
“I don’t know, ask Lila. She’s the one who “saved” you from the napkin I’d thrown at her.”
Then, everyone present but Marinette and Luka froze. They’d all seen that interaction between the two girls, except for Ivan, but Mylène’d told him. It was true, Lila said she only caught the ball with her sprained wrist because she’d learned it could’ve hurt him.
But the evidence was clear as daylight now, Marinette hadn’t even directed the ball at Max, her objective always being the new girl; the napkin the designer did throw at him a few seconds back had only bounced off the moment it hit his glasses, he wore glasses, and, if that wasn’t already prove enough, Lila only complained about her wrist after Marinette had called her out on her acting.
Meaning…
“She lied about her sprained wrist just so she could get her food without even doing the minimal effort!” The group’s athlete snapped.
“How devious of her!” Max continued. “To use someone’s good will to her advantage like that! And to think I let her play us like a fiddle… All the facts were there!”
“But this means she’s also been lying to the girls too!” Ivan commented, clearly concerned about his girlfriend being lied to. Mylène was such a sweet, wonderful girl, she didn’t deserve such treatment, no one did.
As his friends kept trying to process the new information, Nino went back to the conversation Marinette had had with his girlfriend and him mere moments before the aforementioned incident took place, Marinette’s story replaying in his mind.
“So…” The DJ started “You’ve actually known about this since you followed her?”
“Wait, you actually followed her?” This time, it was Luka who’d asked, having remained quiet for the entire conversation.
Somehow, it wasn’t a question, more like a statement. But, deep down, the girl knew she’d have to fess up about everything if the boys were going to try and protect the boy she loved from that brat’s claws. Well, not everything. She still couldn’t tell them about her secret identity. Especially since everyone but Ivan were superheroes too.
So, mustering as much courage as possible, she nodded
“Yeah, listen guys, I’m not proud of what I did, but I don’t regret it either.” She began to explain, as best yet vaguely as possible. “I have to admit I followed them twice on Lila’s first day. My reasons definitely changed from one time to the other, but you must know, at the end of the day, it was worth it; thanks to that, I figured out what kind of person Lila Rossi truly is.
“The first time, I… I was actually jealous of how close she’d gotten with Adrien and I- I just panicked! But, guys, please believe me; deep down, I knew there was something off about her. So, I got inside the library with them. At first, it was just small talk, until Lila spotted a drawing of what looked like an ancient Ladybug in a book Adrien took out from his bag. The moment he showed the slightest interest in the superheroine her entire demeanor changed: she got closer to him, said something about girls not needing costumes to be amazing or whatever and, only then did she mention her “friendship” with Ladybug. 
“And listen carefully, because this was the first sign of Lila being far from angelic as she lets on, after they’d agreed on meeting at the park, Adrien’s bag with all its contents fell to the floor. From where I was, I could see how Lila used her foot to hide Adrien’s book-the one with the superheroes-behind her. The girl was a liar and a thief! That’s when my reason to follow her changed, I just had to know why she needed his book for. 
“So, that’s what I did. On her way to the park she stopped by a jewelry store and bought a necklace. Once in the park, she took the book out and put on the necklace, but the moment she saw Adrien approaching, that brat threw the book into the trash can!” Marinette could definitely feel Max’s horror at that particular scene, what kind of idiot doesn’t know books should be treated with respect?!
“What happened next?” Nino asked, concerned and appalled by the dudette’s story.
“Then, instead of talking about her friendship with Ladybug…” Marinette could feel her veins boil at the memory. “She started bad-mouthing her, saying she wasn’t that great of a hero, only to make herself look better in front of Adrien.”
“But that is nonsense!” Max exclaimed, comprehending Lila’s train of thought was proving itself to be a far bigger challenge than he’d previously predicted. “Being Ladybug’s friend was the source of her popularity, why putting her down? That’s just too contradictory to not appear suspicious.”
“Because she claimed to be the descendant of a superhero herself; Volpina.” As time went by, the baker’s daughter was growing visibly more tired of the Italian girl’s falsehoods.
“But… doesn’t she need a miraculous to, at least, make that claim believable?” Kim arched an eyebrow, missing the point to the girl’s lie completely.
“Oh, she had something similar.” The noirette explained. “She used the necklace to convince Adrien she was the current…” She was going to both dread and enjoy saying this to Nino’s face, knowing he’d be the most irritated one by the Volpina issue. “Fox miraculous holder.”
Soon enough, as the only girl present predicted, Nino’s expression changed from concerned to infuriated. So Lila had tried to fool his best friend by impersonating his girlfriend’s secret identity!? Oh, she was going down…
“Anyways, I got confirmation about her friendship with Ladybug being nothing but another fraud the moment the heroine herself appeared and called her out on her bullshit.” She finished. It felt so right to finally tell somebody about it!
“But blatantly lying to people like that for a person’s own gain is just despicable!” Max remarked.
“Yeah, dude! She’s been faking injuries and diseases to get things from us, injuries and diseases, man! What kind of person does that?!” The young swimmer roared, outraged.
“Also… didn’t Adrien almost got homeschooled again because he’d taken and lost something that belonged to his father the next day to that?” The gentle giant of the class pointed out. “She almost got the boy she supposedly likes life ruined!”
While the boys were, once again, trying to process Lila’s true colours, Marinette felt both inspired enough and so sick of the brunette’s selfish actions that she felt it was finally time to talk about one of the darkest moments of her life. If her experience gave Nino, Ivan, Max and Kim another reason to keep Adrien away from Lila’s manipulative ways, all the more reason to share.
“What do you expect from someone who threatens to isolate those who know she’s nothing but a liar when no one’s looking?”
Once again, everybody present froze, only this time, the temperature of the ship seemed to drop. Confessing about that horrible experience had been a huge leap of faith for the noirette, the only person besides her or Little Miss Show-Off who knew of that being Tikki, the little kwami being capable of doing only so much since she herself couldn’t reveal what took place in the washrooms without jeopardising her chosen’s secret identity.
The mere memory of it all made the girl sick, how someone other than Hawk Moth could have so little respect for others or feel absolutely no remorse for their misdeeds was beyond her. Even Chloé had people she cared about, in her own way… No matter what, the feeling of incompetence she felt when she couldn’t find a way to expose Lila or, simply, wipe that smug look from her face, clung desperately to the young superheroine whenever she was feeling at her lowest. She just hoped none of the guys noticed her shaking. 
But one of them did.
“She threatened you?!”
The bloodcurdling hiss had come from no other than Luka, who, instead of his usual calm and relaxed expression, now wore a mask of pure rage and contempt, which made him look even angrier than the time Bob Roth and XY stole their music and costumes from Kitty Section. The young designer actually feared he might attract akumas.
“Yeah…” She sighed, not really feeling like sharing that particular anecdote but knowing she should anyways. “When she came back to school, after I threw the napkin at her in an attempt to prove she was lying about her wrist, which only resulted in me turning into the bad guy, she followed me to the bathroom and tried to lie her way into winning me over.” She could already feel the tears forming in her eyes, but she went on. “However, I made it very clear then that I didn’t buy a single thing that came from her mouth, which she took as a declaration of war and swore she’d make me lose all my friends if I didn’t shut up and play her game. I’d never felt so helpless in my entire life!”
At that point, tears were running freely down her face, making her even more miserable than by retelling that conversation and making the boys uncomfortable but feeling  terribly sorry for what their dudette had gone through unbeknownst to anyone.
Despite that, Luka was the one aching the most.
He looked at Marinette. If she was involved in the new student’s scheme, he would be there for her. Because, just like Adrien deserved someone who’d help him make his feelings known, so did she. There were many reasons why Marinette was special; during the time Luka had spent with her, he’d found out she was the perfect blend between endearing and badass. While being shy, clumsy and even awkward; she was also quick-witted, brave and determined. Her very own superheroine.
When it came to Adrien, the guitarist knew he was the object of her affections. Nevertheless, his own emotions wouldn’t get in the way of giving someone in need a helping hand. Never. Moreover, although it was true his crush was infatuated with the model, if their “double date” at the ice rink was anything to go by, she’d demonstrated she was the blond’s friend first and she wanted nothing but for him to be happy. 
Yes, that was Marinette. Clear and sincere like the most beautiful melody. And he, as a boy who cared deeply for her, wouldn’t be less.
As the blue-eyed teenager tried to calm down her cries, she felt comforting arms wrapping around her. Wait a minute, she recognised those arms, strong and firm, yet gentle and caring. Sure enough, she turned her head and found Luka’s aqua eyes staring back at hers.
“Marinette,” The blue haired boy started. “I think I speak for all of us when I say you shouldn’t have had to endure all that on your own, and that… we’re deeply sorry you did.” He took a deep breath that caused the pigtailed girl to wonder about the importance of what was about to be said. “I promise, just like we’re going to prevent Adrien from getting hurt or manipulated by her, we’re going to do the same for you. Am I right, boys?”
There was a chorus of agreements and Marinette couldn’t feel any more relieved. They listened to her! And they wanted to be there for her in her times of need, too! She was so happy she could begin to cry all over again. But instead, she wiped away her tears and beamed at them.
“Thank you, guys. Really, it means a lot.” She smiled at her friends. “But I myself don’t need a protection squad, I know better than to be around Lila. What I want, though, is that you stand by me every time she does manage to hurt me or make me look like the bad guy. Even if it’s in the shadows, I want to feel supported.”
“You got it!” Promised Nino.
“Yeah, it’s so unfair that you’ve got to go through this alone, man. You can count on us!” Kim gave her a thumbs up.
“Now that we are all aware of what Lila is truly capable of, she will have to step up her game if she wants to play us like a fiddle ever again.” Concluded Max.
“Even if we have to find a way to make the girls more wary of her, there’s no way we’ll let her hurt you or Adrien, Mari.” Ivan assured her.
“And… you’ll have to be crazy to think I’d let someone like her toy with my friends like that, Ma-ma-ma-Marimanette.” Luka teased, making her blush.
For the first time in months, everything felt right again. As if there’d been a dark cloud darkening her day that finally disappeared and allowed her to enjoy the sun once more. Still, there was one other issue they had to face. The group’s drummer beat her to it, though.
“So… How do we protect Adrien from Lila?”
It was a good question. The brunette had a dozen tricks up her sleeve to get whatever she desired from people, be it her usual lies or more elaborate schemes, she always found a solution to get her way with things.
“Well, I think we obviously should-”
“Don’t even think about it, Marinette.” Max interrupted her. “Even if your intentions at exposing Lila are well-meaning, she’s managed to make you look like a jealous, insecure girl who has no right nor reason to dislike her at every attempt you’ve made.” The boy genius explained, adjusting his glasses again. “And given she still has the girls to back her up, being publicly cold or aggressive to her would do us more harm than good.”
They all looked at each other. The video game enthusiast had a point: straightforwardly confronting the Italian was a bad idea. 
“Then, what about if we just call Adrien over for help or something like that whenever she starts to invade his personal space instead?” The eldest of the Couffaine siblings suggested. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t seen the way the brunette clung to the blond at whatever chance she’d get. It felt so wrong and it was so sickening to watch, more so given the boy’s look of discomfort. He failed to comprehend how on Earth anyone but Marinette had never noticed the girl’s wicked actions before.
“That… could actually work!” The DJ said. “But what could we possibly ask the dude about without putting ourselves at her level and lying?”
“We could always ask him about his schedule. Whether his free time to hang out with him, something we don’t get to do very often, or what he’s supposed to do at his daily appointments. I’m sure, with time, we could get some real time with him he’d reserved himself where he could explain to us some doubts from previous times! That’d make it less weird.” The baker girl knew that schedule she had with all her friends’ appointments and activities would come in handy someday!
“That’s a great idea! But… what are we going to do with the girls if they start asking questions? We can’t just lie to them…” Ivan asked. Of the whole squad, he and Nino were the ones who’d have the hardest time hiding anything from their girlfriends; Ivan because he was a terrible liar, and Nino because… Well, nobody could really hide a secret from the school’s most stubborn journalist.
“We’ll just tell them the truth, from their point of view; we’re trying to be more involved in Adrien’s life. Since that’s what we’ll ask him, technically, it is not a lie.” Luka answered. Marinette was pleasantly surprised, for someone who barely spent time with Adrien, he was proving himself to be a very important part of the plan. 
“Ok, now that we have a plan, we need to make some points clear. Marinette,” The DJ addressed the designer, who wasn’t sure why she was the first point that had to be dealt with. “I think it’s best if you stay out of the plan at the beginning. Lila could use that against us, saying you’re taking advantage of the situation to spend time with Adrien while she can’t.”
As much as it saddened her to admit it, Nino had a point. If people thought she had jealousy issues, that was because they’d never seen Lila’s. It wouldn’t be wise to give the girl more reasons to isolate her.
“Very well.” She agreed.
“And… I think I speak for all of us when I say I’m sorry.” Her best friend’s boyfriend apologised, looking rather ashamed. “Had we listened to you sooner none of this would’ve happened, dude. You even went as far as to warn Alya and me and we still wouldn’t believe you. And it was that what led you to being targeted by Lila, for which I truly am sorry. Do you think you could ever forgive us, dudette?”
Marinette was touched, that was an understatement. Nino had finally seen the truth and apologised for not listening to her sooner, just like all the boys’ faces showed just by looking at them. And now… Now they were willing to be there for her, to stand by her, to help her keep Adrien away from harm; that was everything she’d ever wanted, really.
“I forgive you guys. Now, come on! We have a liar to stop!”
The “Adrien Protection Squad” was a go.
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donttellpeterparker · 5 years ago
Text
Euro Trip Part 4
Summary: A trip of a lifetime right? Going abroad with your friends and the guy you were head over heels for... how could anything possibly go wrong?
Requested: Yes
Word Count: 3.4k+
Warning(s)?: FFH Based, Please don't read if you haven't seen FFH
Taglist: @editsbyjenny, @campcampie, @peter-parkerdeservedbetter, @jackiehollanderr, @lukesbabylon, @fangeekkk, @kaylaisafangirl, @pfctparker, @mutuallynotmutual
masterlist (x) request (x)
——————————————————
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Euro Trip
I woke up with my head at an angle. I yawned softly and wiggles a little, enjoying the warmth the right side of my body was receiving.
''Come on guys, we're here'' Mr Harris came over and softly shook my shoulder. I lifted my head from the comfy position and smiled up at him. I rubbed my eyes with my left hand then attempted to move my right. I felt a heave warmth wrapped around my hand as my eyes glanced down, my fingers were still intertwined with Peter's. I look up to notice Peter wide awake, already looking at me. I blushed and slowly removed my hand from his, grabbing my stuff and beginning to stand up. He follows suit and grabs the rest of his stuff, his smile never leaving his face when he thinks about how long you had been lying on his shoulder, softly snoring and even drooling slightly for.
We all hop off the bus and grab our things from the compartments underneath.
''You looked quite cozy'' My best friend comments, grabbing her suitcase after me. I bit my lip and smile, ignoring her comment.
''Peter didn't stop smiling the entire time, he even starred at you while you were sleeping, it was creepy'' The blush soon came back once I heard her words. He was looking at me? Why would he do that? Unless...
''It's not that creepy'' I reply, following everyone else as we walk up towards a Fancy building. The streets were filling up with people in costumes, playing music on their speakers as they walked down the road.
''It's pretty creepy, he was looking at you like he was in love with you'' I turned to her and softly smiled, even though I knew she was lying it was still a pleasant thought, Peter liking me, Me liking Peter. I could feel my heart best faster just thinking about it.
''Ugh whatever, I'm going inside before I puke from all this'' My best friend exaggerates before picking up her suit case and walked inside. I follow behind but continue smiling to myself.
''Wow, this place is so classy'' Jenny speaks up from beside Ned, hand in hand. I look around in Awe, taking in the beautiful artworks, the grand piano and massive chandeliers lighting up the spacious room.
''Yeah, so why are we here?'' One of our classmates spoke up, glancing around the room as well. I couldn't help but to agree with him, there was no way the school could afford this.
''Speak for yourself, I'm home'' I rolled my eyes at Flash's statement and followed everyone else over to the reception desk.
''Now everyone get settled in, get some rest because tonight there's a big surprise, the annual carnival of light!'' Mr Harris spoke, gesturing to outside the huge window. I catch eyes with Peter and smile before looking over as well. We could see the fireworks and hear the music from here!
''Hello?'' I heard Peter mumble before he swiftly took off, chatting away on the phone. My eyebrows furrow in confusion, not getting why he keeps walking away during this trip. The feeling in my gut grew with worry, starting to piece everything together.
''Uh, yes ma'am'' Instinctively I moved closer towards Peter, Ned doing the same but going to stand by his side. I heard them whisper to each other for a few moments before looking back at the group. I quickly divert my eyes to pretend I was still admiring the hotel, okay let's be honest, I was.
''Ned?'' Jenny calls out.
''Yeah babe'' Ned signals back, walking back towards her. He greets her with a kiss on the cheek and a warm smile, it kinda hurt to watch. In all honesty, I wished I had someone to share moments like these with, in fact, this whole vacation. Its been a whirlwind of emotions but it would have been great to experience them with someone by my side.
''Hey'' Peter voiced from beside me. I just turn to him and smile as the teachers start handing out fancy room keys to everyone. Everyone was surprised to find out we all had our separate room. However, I was dreading spending the night alone. After the events that have occurred over the past few days, being alone was the last thing you wanted.
''Kinda cool we all get a room to ourselves'' I commented, not really knowing what else to do or say. It had almost felt like something had changed between us, maybe I was just letting what my best friend said to me get to me but, something felt different.
''Your room is right across from mine, that's cool'' Peter shows me his room key which has the numbers 203 on them whereas mine had 204. All I did again was nod, still stuck in my own head. What the hell was Peter Parker hiding?
Peter couldn't be anymore embarrassed with himself. That's cool? seriously? who says that? And especially when pointing out that their rooms are close together. That's something a pervert would do. Oh god, what is she thinks he's coming on to her, or perhaps hinting at something?
''Parker?'' Peter quickly turned away from the fireplace and looked Nick Fury in the eye, now being brought back to reality.
''Are we boring you?'' Peter quickly shook his head, now glancing towards the ground at his feet.
''You're not boring him, he's just thinking about hoe you kidnapped him'' Mysterio replies to Fury, eyeing him slightly.
''He had obstacles, I removed them'' Fury explained, staring down Mysterio.
''They still won't evacuate the city'' Agent Hill informs the group causing Fury to groan to himself.
''Idiots''
''So what's the plan, Parker?'' Fury asks, making sure Peter knew what to do.
''I will be in the Cathedral Tower, keeping watch for the fire monster, and then when that shows up I'll radio you guys and then Mr Beck and I-'' Peter recites back, making sure he had all the info before Mr Beck cuts him off.
''My name is Mysterio'' Mr Beck says, smiling a little at the end.
''That's fine, Mysterio and I w-we will... '' Peter begins awed at being able to call him Mysterio before losing his train of thought.
''Peter, listen to me, the best hope you have? You're only hope, is to stop it here now, no matter what the cost'' Mysterio said seriously, his gaze locking onto Peter's.
''Lure it away from civilians if you can, but most importantly, keep it away from metal. If it gets too big, it will be able to draw power from the earths core and after that, there's no way to stop it'' Peter couldn't help but to think of his friends, Ned... you. Hell even Flash was in danger by just being here.
''Hey man, my friends are here, and I can't help but to think that we are putting them in danger-''
''You're worried about us hurting your friends? You called a drone strike on your own school tour bus. Stark gave you a multi billion dollar A.I technical intelligence system, and the first thing you do with it? is go blow up your friends. It's clear to me that you will not be ready for this!'' Fury grows angry with the teenager, huffing at the end in disappointment.
Peter couldn't help but to look down again, crossing his arms over his chest as he grows sad with Fury's words. He's right, and that's the part that really hurt Peter.
~*~*~*~*
Peter leaving once again unnerved me. He was always disappearing all over the shot and I just couldn't keep up anymore. I needed to get to the bottom of this, whenever there's trouble he's never there and then there's the lying, the sneaking around and the weird behaviour, like he is constantly on edge. I had a hunch but... no it couldn't be right. It was almost impossible. But it would explain almost everything.
''Hey, some girls, guys and I are going to head on up to our rooms and play some truth and dare, wanna join?'' I turn to my best friend and smile but decide to shake my head. Too much was on my mind at the moment, the last thing I wanted to do was to get distracted.
''No it's okay, and besides, since when do you break school rules?'' She knew it as against the rules to have guys in the room with girls. She shrugged her shoulder nonchalantly and smiled innocently back.
''Since we almost died, like, twice while on vacation'' The words struck me more than they should have. I nodded in response but remained silent, letting her walk past me and off with the others. I decided to walk down the lobby and back towards the main entrance where the artwork and piano were. It was nice and peaceful inside now, despite the carnival that was just beginning to take place outside.
Noticing no one was in site I made my way over to the grand piano and sat down. It was beautifully decorated, with gold lining and wooden polish on top, it was too beautiful for words. After gazing adoringly at the masterpiece for a while I began to pluck a few chords, hoping some inspiration would come to me for what to play. Soon an idea popped into my head and I began t hum the melody as my fingers danced across the keys.
Peter was not too far away, sittting on top of the Cathedral that was directly across from the hotel you all were staying at. He admired from a distance, watching.
''Fury asked me to come up here and see how you were doing. He, he just felt bad for snapping at you.'' Peter takes his eyes off of the girl playing the piano and glances up at Mysterio with a distant look.
''Really?'' Peter asks, not really believing him. The way Fury was with him earlier, he'd happily guess he was anything but.
''You guys do have sarcasm on this earth, right?'' Peter laughs softly to himself and glances down, sneaking one more look to the beautiful girl before back up at Mysterio.
''How are you feeling?'' he felt horrible, he felt like his whole world was crushing down on him, he was struggling to even catch his breath. He glances back but hold his gaze, Mysterio following his look as well to notice.
''Uhh, well, I didn't think I was going to have to save the world this summer...'' Peter starts, his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes were slowly glistening with un-shed tears, the stress almost becoming too much for him to bare.
But there you were, still playing the piano, tilting your head to the side which he thought you did to concentrate better. He had heard you play once before at school, he swear he hadn't heard anything like it in his entire life.
''I know that makes me sound like a jerk I just... I had this plan with this girl...'' He smiles softly to himself at the thought of you.
''That I really like and... now it's all ruined'' Peter shrugged his shoulders as if it was no big deal. Peter knew deep down that it probably was never going to happen anyways, he wasn't the type of guy good things happened too.
''You're not a jerk for wanting a normal life, kid. It's a hard path, see things, you do things, make choices. People look up to you and then, even if you win a battle sometimes they die. I like you, Peter, you're a good kid''
''There's a part of me that wants me to tell you to just, turn around and run away from here and all this... and then there's another part of me that knows we're about to fight... and what's at stake... and I'm glad you're here''
''Me too'' Peter softly smiles, nodding along with Mysterio.
''But, you're worried about your friends'' Mysterio looks over at you, playing still, as Peter does the same.
''Yeah... It just always feels like I'm putting them in danger'' Peter sighs.
''Look, just... get her inside and keep them in a safe place for just a few hours and it'll be alright'' Mysterio says, looking at Peter and back towards the girl.
''It's really nice, to have somebody to talk to about superhero stuff, you know?''
''Anytime, and hey, if we survive this you'll have all summer to kill Brad'' Both Mysterio and Parker just looked at each other and softly chuckled to themselves.
~*~*~*~*
''Good news, we're going to the Opera!'' Mr Harris seemed all too pleased with this. Everyone else who was gathered in the lobby definitely wasn't. After playing the piano for half an hour, Both teachers rallied up the students, getting angry with a few for breaking rules and pulling them out here into the spacious lobby.
Of course, everyone was 'Um'ing and 'Ahh'ing about the whole ordeal.
''What about the carnival?'' I was the first to raise my hand and ask.
''Well this is upgrade living, guys'' I wanted to so badly roll my eyes.
''Come on, the tour company just gave us these tickets, for free! Do you have any idea how much Opera tickets cost?'' That was highly suspicious and I was sure all the other students where thinking the same thing.
''No, because none of us have ever wanted to go to the Opera, ever'' I hated to say it but I agreed with Flash on this one. Wow, the world has been going crazy lately.
''Umm, well I think this is going to be culturally nurturing for us?'' Ned's statement sounded more like a question, as if he was unsure of it himself. I looked at him and narrowed my eyes knowing something was off. It was quite easy to tell when he was lying.
''Thank you, Ned, Everyone, this is going to be, maybe, the best four hours of our trip!'' Mr Harris happily says.
''Four hours!?'' Everyone chorused together in utterly disbelief.
''Guys, I think it's going to be really fun, seriously'' Ned speaks again.
''You hate Opera'' I spoke up, alerting everyone, including Ned.
''I don't hate it per say, I just haven't quite experienced one to it's fullest potential'' I scrunch my nose in disgust but lean back in my chair regardless. There was no way of getting out this hideous adventure unfortunately.
~*~*~*~*
''I bet now you're all happy that I made you pack a nice outfit'' Mr Harris calls out from in front of the group, adjusting his tie with excitement.
''Yeah because I'd rather go to a four hour Opera instead of the biggest party in the world'' Flash needed to stop being right, it was just proving that the world really was spinning out of control.
''Again, don't look at me'' at least one of the teachers was sensible. I walked up beside Peter who seemed to fidget every few seconds. I could even see a small bead of sweet collecting on his forehead. It wasn't even hot out either. All I did was glance to him in confusion as he just smiles back, ignoring the voice in his earpiece as he kept on walking up beside you with Brad glaring you both from behind.
''Okay here... beat the rush'' My eyes scanned the chairs, it was empty.
''The rush out'' I snickered but covered it up quickly when Mr Harris turned to face me with a look. I recomposed myself and looked over at Peter who was smiling himself.
''Lucky for us, we got the best seats in the house!'' Mr Harris says back, bring up the programs to us.
''Hey, I'll save you a seat'' Brad speaks up in a hushed voice to me. I smile hesitantly but stand still, glancing around the place.
''You look really pretty'' You're heart warmed at the compliment, a lot more than it should have.
''And therefore I have value?'' I was being sarcastic, I was hoping he picked up on that. I become sarcastic when I'm nervous.
''No, no t-that's not what I meant at all...'' Peter fumbled over his words.
''I'm messing with you'' I softly laugh hoping he would too. He does.
''You look pretty too'' You look pretty too? what kind of compliment was that to a guy? I wanted to literally hide in a corner, gosh that was embarrassing.
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(credit:@spideychelle)
''Thank you'' We both smile at each other for a few moments, my hands beginning to clam up along with my breath hitching in my throat. He was standing so close to me, I didn't think he knew the impact it had on me. I licked my lips once or twice, my eyes drifting to his then back up. His eyes stared at mine with the same boyish smile on his face, lighting up the whole room. I could instinctively feel myself leaning forwards a little bit, my eyes still on his.
''Oh my gosh, Opera glasses, so cute!'' I jump back slightly and both Peter and I turn to face Ned and Jenny not too far behind us.
''So cute'' Ned replies, seeming not so interested as she was. He was a good boyfriend.
''Wanna go in on a pair?'' I ask nervously, clutching my jacket in front of my torso. Peter, however, looks at me with the same smile that has me weak at the knees then frowns.
''You mean like sit next to each other?'' I nod and smile, hoping the idea didn't disgust him too much.
''Yeah'' I said reassuringly, more to myself rather than him.
''No'' Peter speaks, looking slightly away from me and off into the distance.
''Okay, no... you don't want to sit next to me or you just don't want the glasses...?'' My throat was closing up at the end. Peter holds the side of his head and glances down to the ground. The embarrassment was all over my face, my cheeks blushing a bright red. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and tried to recompose myself. Of course he didn't see you like that Y/N, you would be foolish to even try.
''I didn't mean that I.. uhh.. if you go ahead I'll go grab us a pair'' I regain my soft smile and nod.
''I'll save you a seat next to me because...so... I'll be up there'' I pointed down towards the seats and just nodded my head one more time before heading off. I screwed my eyes shut as soon as I turned around, fisting my hands by my side out of how embarrassing that whole encounter was.
''No, I'm coming, I'm coming'' Peter quickly talks into his ear piece, ducking his head slightly to whisper.
''Hey I gotta go, could you just tell Y/N that I'm sick or something?'' Peter pleads with Ned, desperation in his eyes. He didn't want you to hate him for this but deep down he knew that you might.
''O-okay, be careful and Peter, what ever you do, please steer the monster away from the Opera house''
''Yeah Ned I know'' Peter looked at his best friend weirdly.
''Okay'' Ned says looking down briefly with a sad smile, not wanting to see his best friend get hurt.
''Alright I gotta go'' Peter runs up past Ned and towards the exit. He quickly catches the side of the door and pauses for a moment, glancing back to Ned and Jenny then soon towards you. He watched with sad eyes as Brad got up, glanced his way and flips him the bird smirking, moving over to sit next to you.
''Parker, you better be on your way'' Fury's voice stops Peter in his tracks, his glare soon leaving his face.
''Coming'' Peter huffs before leaving.
I turn to look over my shoulder to see Peter no where in sight like Ned had said. I knew he was lying about Peter being sick. I hated the awful feeling I was getting in my stomach and gut. Why couldn't he have the balls to just reject me instead of making his friend do it for him?
And to disappear yet again? It was clear to me that my feelings for him were never going to be reciprocated. It didn't matter that we were on vacation, it didn't matter that we had known each other for a long time, none of it mattered anymore because it was obvious. Peter Parker was never going to like me back and there was nothing I could do about it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Here's part 4! I left a bittersweet ending to this part I'm sorry! But we'll have some more action and drama unfold in part 5 so stay tuned lovelies! Lemme know what you think xo
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nashvilletonihon · 6 years ago
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To Stay Or Not To Stay...That Is The Million Dollar Question.
I’m currently sitting at my desk in the Kumihama teacher’s room. It’s Finals Week here so everyone is buzzing around and it sounds like a busy hive of bees. The students already look broken, defeated, tired. It’s been a long couple of weeks for me so I can only imagine what it’s been like for them.
I’m honestly not sure where October and November went. I remember being glad that September was over the minute it became October 1st and then suddenly I was celebrating Halloween with my ESS Club students and then it was November 1st. Now it’s 1 day away from my birthday (which I haven’t even thought about) and then it will be December 1st. 
What. Is. Happening??? 
When I first arrived here I thought time had literally stopped. I was stuck in an endless loop of being unhappy, lonely and sad I was drowning in my own misery. Fast forward to now. November 29th. In two short months I will have to give the JET Program and my contracting schools an answer to the question of whether or not I would like to re-contract. If I say yes, my schools will then have to decide whether or not they want to extend my contract for another year. If they do, I’d be working for them again during another trip around the sun. If they don’t...well, the decision to stay or go will have been made for me.
I’ve talked to my mom and a few close friends about my decision to potentially live in Japan for another year or to move back to the States. My mother encouraged me to make a Pros and Cons list. (Something I’ve always done when faced with major, life-changing decisions.) It’s currently taped to the back of my bedroom door and at the moment, both sides are neck and neck. Neither the Pros nor the Cons have advanced past the other. Hurray for me right? How does a list like that help when they’re dead even?! 
I think about what my life would be like in both scenarios. If I stay for another year I can continue to work toward my (absolutely insane) goal of eventually taking the JLPT N2. It’s an incredibly difficult test for non-native speakers that requires A LOT of work to pass. One of my friends and fellow JET’s is getting ready to take it this Sunday. She studied Japanese for four years in college AND studied abroad here and even she’s worried passing it. I wonder if I could accomplish my goal in another year and a half. If I worked my a** off, I bet I could. I at least want to take and pass the N3. (Which I’m pretty sure I can do.) That being said, if I pass the N2 I could get a job as a translator or interpreter which is something I would really enjoy doing. I could translate anime or manga or work for the government or tourism board in cities like Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, Seattle, etc... Living in Japan for another year would allow me to continue to be exposed to native speakers and Japanese every single day. The minute I move back to America I no longer have that luxury. Even though I’ve only been here for 4 months my comprehension and understanding has grown exponentially. I would be jeopardizing all of the hard work I’ve put in up ‘til now. 
A major Con of continuing to live in Japan is being away from my family and friends for another year. I video chat with my momma every single day and it always pains me to have to talk to her through a phone screen. I miss being able to hop in my car and drive the 2 1/2 hours to Indiana to see her whenever I wanted. Now we constantly have to coordinate when we both have free time to talk. Being 15 hours ahead of her in the States (thaaaaanks Daylight Savings) makes things difficult, but we manage. I miss her hugs. I also struggle a lot with the fact that I am losing out on valuable time with my grandparents. I know they won’t be around forever and the guilt associated with being over here while they continue grow older is more than I can put into words. I know my family is proud of me for following my dreams but that doesn’t make being over here any easier.
Another Con (or Pro depending on how you look at it) is that I have ZERO job prospects moving back to America. Absolutely nothing. In theory I could pick up over hire work in theatre at TPAC, Nash Rep, Studio Tenn or advertise myself as a costume designer (a position I have long had a love/hate relationship with) but to be completely honest, none of that sounds very appealing right now. I’m tired of living paycheck to paycheck and constantly being worried about if I’ll be able to afford rent (we all know how ridiculous it is to live in Nashville now) or make my car payment. Yeah, yeah I know. ‘’That’s what being involved in the arts is all about! You have to suffer for it!’’ Whoever thought that was a good excuse for people to live a stressful, poor lifestyle just so they can follow their passion can shove it. It’s ridiculous we even have to do that in the first place. Yes, I want to act. Yes, it’s my everything. Yes, it’s what I am good at. But I don’t want to constantly have to struggle when I could work toward a job that I can make good money doing while ALSO acting. Is that me selling out to have a secure day job and moonlight as an actor? Maybe. I’ll be 29 on Friday. If I stay another year in Japan I’ll turn 30 here. It’s hard to believe I’m so close to being out of my twenties already. While I feel the proverbial clock ticking when it comes to the stereotypical “old actress” trope, I have to remind myself that most well-known actors didn’t even get started until their mid-30′s. I’ve got time. And being bilingual will look really cool on my resumé.
So what’s another Pro about continuing to live in Japan? Saving more money, yo. Being here for another year means more savings in the bank. It’s a pretty simple concept that would allow me to not freak out about finances when I finally move back to the States. As someone who had an incredible amount of financial stability when I lived in Los Angeles to being left with nothing after I moved to Nashville, financial stability is now incredibly important to me. (I can hear my father slow clapping from 11,000 miles away.) I’m not one for caring about money (never have been) but if I could keep adding to the savings account while also working toward a career that would help me in the long run, I’ll take that option time and time again.
Another Pro I often think about is how many more people can come to visit Japan while I’m here. My Mom, sister (Elizabeth) and friends Taylor and Erica are all coming out to visit me in the months of February and March. If I’m here for another year, even MORE people can come on out to see what this crazy magical country is all about. I think that’s pretty dang cool and am 100% encouraging everyone I know to start looking at flights now. I mean, you’ve got a personal tour guide AND a place to stay!!! What more could you need/want?! 
All in all I have quite a few Pros and Cons on the list. Some of the Cons are dependent on whether or not I can somehow change them into Pros. One example would be the immense distaste I have for my base school. I am there every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Out of those three days I might be fortunate enough to attend (not teach, mind you) 2 classes, possibly 3. Classes are 50 minutes each if we don’t have a special shortened schedule. So out of 3, 8 hour work days, I am maybe seeing the inside of a classroom for less than 3 hours each week. Compare that to my visit school where I am there on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I have 3 or 4 and sometimes 5 classes a day. I am waaaaay happier at my visit school. I found out that I can talk to my scheduling supervisors to potentially get my schedule switched so that my visit school becomes my base school and my base school becomes my visit school. This would drastically improve my outlook on the situation as a whole. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the other teachers at my base school (even though I don’t really talk to many of them and vice versa) and they’re all incredibly nice people. I just seem to click better with the teachers at my visit school.
Throughout all of the anxiety, worrying, stressing out and continual ‘’Should I or shouldn’t I’s’’, I have to keep telling myself that ultimately, it’s my decision and mine alone. Will it affect the people close to me? Oh, without a doubt. I know my family will hate to have me away for another year. I run the risk of being forgotten in the Nashville theatre and losing another year of shows. I already feel like my career was just beginning to take off and the desire to follow through with that is one of the strongest pulls back home yet. And then again...I have this intense desire to learn Japanese. REALLY learn it. I want to communicate with my friends, co-workers and the people who have helped to make the adjustment to life in Japan a little bit easier. I want to help Americans visit Japan and not be scared to do so because of the language barrier. Trust me when I say that the the people here are more scared to use English than you are to use Japanese.
I have a lot to think about over the next 2 months, but if I’m being completely honest (and I try to be on here), I am about 90% sure I will stay for another year. I don’t think my work in Japan is done yet. I think I can help more students, engage more cultural exchanges, help the current JTE’s teach their classes more efficiently and help infuse fun ways of learning into the mundane textbook lessons. I want to start a pen-pal exchange with the girls in my English Speaking Society Club with students from my aunt’s high school in Indiana. There is so much I want to do...and 8 more months just isn’t enough time to do it all.
Before I end this, it’s important to me that I thank the countless people, both family members and friends, who have listened to my doubts, fears, concerns and indecision about all of this over the past month. Your unwavering support and constant encouragement mean so much to me. I honestly wouldn’t still be here without your love and kindness. I am truly, truly grateful to have each and every one of you in my life, both here and abroad. Y’all the real MVP’s. 
I’m sorry there aren’t any photos in this post. I’m heading to Kyoto City tomorrow for a Skills Conference and will be there all weekend. I’m going sightseeing and Christmas shopping and will be taking lots of photos so I will have plenty to write about come next week. On that note I will wrap this up and say goodbye for now. I keep telling myself I’ll be better at updating and posting and I swear I will start now. Thanks for always being patient with me!!
じゃあまた (See you!)
- レイチェル (Rachel)
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upthenorthmountain · 7 years ago
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Second Chances
It’s Charis’s birthday! And this feels a little like cheating, because most of this was written already, I just reformatted it and added an extra bit and here it is. I originally sent this to Charis in pieces, last summer, and I hope she likes it just as much now it’s a proper story.
Rated T for a small amount of Language
Second Chances
The receptionist barely glanced at him before waving him into a seat. Kristoff put his briefcase on his knees and tried not to drum his fingers on it. He didn't even, especially, need this job; the one he had was fine, but this would be a step up. It was worth a punt, anyway. After a few minutes the door into the main office opened and a woman came through with a clipboard. She didn't look up, but rummaged in the papers while keeping the door open with her foot. "Hang on," she said, "Just a sec - okay. Kristoff Bjorgman!"
Then she did a double-take so extreme it was almost comical, let the door slam behind her, and looked up. Kristoff stood and met her eye. "Hi," he said. "Anna."
-----
He’d recognised her as soon as she opened the door. It had been so long, but she was still the same. Same long red hair trying to escape the clip holding it up. Same big blue eyes that showed her every emotion. Same petite figure, though now it was more mature, more womanly.
For a moment they both just stared. Then Anna shook herself and said "Oh my goodness, Kristoff! I didn't read the names before I came through, I'm just bringing people through, I'm not doing the interviewing or anything, Karen would do it but she's poorly - gosh, it's been so long! How are you?" "I'm good, I'm really good. It's great to see you." Another long moment, then Anna shook herself again. "Well, we'd better go in - sorry - I'm not trying to make you late - oh, fudge -" now she realised that the door had shut behind her and was fishing an ID card on a lanyard out of the front of her blouse. "This way," she said once she'd managed to get the door open. "Follow meeee - and through here. OK. Paul," she said to the man in the office, who was now standing with hand extended. "This is Kristoff Bjorgman, Kris this is Paul Bunce, the IT Director. OK!" She beamed at them, then remembered she was supposed to leave, and backed out, hissing "Good luck!" at Kristoff as she went.
-----
Anna Rendell. He hadn't even known she was in the country, though there was no reason why she wouldn't have been. Fancy running into her today, and on the way into a job interview; life was weird. It must be - could it be ten years? Yes, almost. Anna Rendell. Fuck.
He'd been nineteen. He'd left school with no real plan in mind, and ended up doing various jobs until he'd gone back to college at twenty. That summer he'd been a gardener at the posh girls’ school just outside town, and spent most of it mowing lawns and trimming hedges.
The place had been mostly deserted over the summer; it was a boarding school but most of the girls were at home for the long holiday. A few remained, however, and one of them was Anna, who had recently turned eighteen and was staying at the school until she left for university abroad in the autumn.
He'd noticed her before, always with a crowd of friends, and in her uniform she'd looked younger. Come the end of term she switched to jeans or a sundress, her hair down, and with no one else to talk to she chatted to all the staff and helped with any job going. No one at the school seemed to care where she went or what time she got back.
One long hot afternoon, while he was attempting to tame the edges of the nature garden behind the science labs, she brought him a cold drink and sat with him in the shade as he drank it. He remembers the heat, the bees buzzing in the wildflowers, the way each one of her toenails was painted a different colour (‘I couldn't decide,’ she said lazily when he pointed it out).
He'd wanted to kiss her but he hadn't dared, then after she left he'd spent the rest of the afternoon kicking himself for not making a move. But when he got back to the gardeners’ shed to put away his tools, he found her waiting for him.
Memory was a funny thing. When he looked back at it, that summer was just sunshine, Anna's smile and the taste of her lips, listening to her talk while she made daisy chains, the scent of cut grass. If there was rain he's forgotten it, let it fade to a drum on the roof of his car, parked in the lane behind the school. Distant thunder as he kissed her goodnight outside her dormitory, lingering in the dusk. But summer doesn't last forever.
-----
The problem with having a magical summer romance at eighteen was that it was impossible not to hold it up as the standard against which all future men should be judged. Over the years it had become a running joke with Anna’s friends - “Kristoff would never treat me like this.” “Kristoff would never do that.” Part of her had almost forgotten that he was a real person, a grown man out in the world living his life.
He probably had all sorts of bad qualities and annoying habits that just hadn't had time to make themselves known. Anna herself felt like a completely different person to the girl she'd been then, carefree and young and falling in love for the first time. She had Harry now, anyway. He was the most important thing.
Kristoff would never have cheated on her, though. He would never have slept with her then stopped answering her texts, or so she told herself. He would certainly have never broken up with her at the sight of a positive pregnancy test. Maybe she needed him, as that fantasy of the perfect man, while all the others let her down.
But of all the places she'd expected to run into him now she was back in town, in a suit interviewing for the systems analyst position was not one of them. She'd sneaked a look at his CV once she was back at her desk; he'd gone back to college, his work history since then was exemplary. He’d done well for himself, and that made her happy. That was how she explained her happiness, anyway.
-----
Afterwards Kristoff couldn't even remember how the interview went, though he didn't think he stuffed it up too much. The interviewer was pleasant, Kristoff managed to answer all the questions, then he was ushered out and back through reception. He didn't see Anna on the way out.
There was one thing he was glad rarely came up in job interviews - his biggest regret. “I never had sex with Anna Rendell” wasn’t exactly interview-friendly, but it was the honest answer. He hadn’t, and all the reasons he’d had at the time now seemed ridiculous. Maybe then it would all have ended up differently. Maybe then, his last memory of her would be a sweet, happy one, rather than the mess it had turned into. Or maybe not.
The job as gardener didn't pay much but it came with the use of a tiny cottage on the edge of the grounds. In early September, two days before Anna was to leave for her expensive private university in Paris, she had turned up on his doorstep at 9pm and persuaded him to go out with her to sit on the hill and watch the stars come out.
He’d known the date of her departure for weeks. They hadn’t talked about it. What good would it do? Nothing could be changed. When she wasn’t there, Kristoff would tell himself it was just a bit of fun, anyway, nothing serious, that he’d miss her for a little while and then he’d get over it. When she was there, he tried not to think about it at all.
So he’d gone with Anna, up to their favourite place on the hill - only a few minutes away, but outside the school grounds and well away from where anyone might come walking. Anna had a blanket, which she laid out so they could sit and talk, or rather sit and kiss.
When did the stars come out? He didn’t know, because all he was looking at was Anna, all he was thinking about was her lips on his, the scent of the skin behind her ear, the softness of her skin. She pulled him down to lie next to her, and pressed up against him, and ran her hands over his neck and shoulders.
And then she had produced a condom out of her bag, and told him she was ready and she wanted him to be her first. And he’d refused.
-----
He was angry with her, he knows that now. He was angry with her for leaving, but he knew he shouldn’t be, so he felt guilty, and that made him angrier. He couldn’t ask her not to go. He couldn’t go with her. All he could do was lose her.
And maybe he felt that he was being the mature one, the sensible one. Noble. What rubbish. Or, maybe he was scared of not being able to give her the magical night she wanted, though even if it had been awkward and fumbling it would still have been better than what actually happened.
Anna hadn’t believed his refusal at first. She’d been puzzled, then she’d been annoyed, then finally she’d been upset. And he hadn’t known what to say, what he could say, because the only words he could think of were don’t go and he couldn’t say that, he had no right to say that.
She’d cried, and she’d left, and he hadn't sought her out before she'd left the country, mainly out of embarrassment. Two days of cowardice had led to ten years of regrets.
-----
hi Kristoff! I'm sorry if this is super creepy but I got your number from your CV, I hope you don't mind and please don't tell my boss, I just wondered if you wanted to get a coffee or something some time just to catch up??
That would be great. :) at the weekend?
10am Saturday ok? Meet me outside the Costa on the high st x
-----
Anna arrived a couple of minutes after Kristoff did. She was pushing a pushchair with a little blond toddler in it, and when she said “Hi!” her expression was defensive.
“Hi,” Kristoff said. “It’s good to see you. Who’s your friend?”
“This is my little boy. Harry. He’s nearly two. Is it okay if we go for a walk down to the swings instead of getting coffee? He’s having one of those days where he doesn’t like to sit still.”
“I wonder where he gets that from. No problem.”
They set off towards the park. Harry started trying to undo the straps on the pushchair, then saying “Mumma. Mumma. Mumma,” over and over with increasing volume.
“He wants to get out,” Anna said. “He likes to walk but he’s pretty slow.”
“Are we in a hurry?”
“I guess not.” Anna knelt down by the pushchair and unclipped the little boy; he popped straight out of his seat and started striding confidently off into the distance.
“Before you ask,” Anna said once Harry had been retrieved, “his dad’s not around. He’s never met him, actually. He dumped me when I said I was keeping the baby.”
“Wow. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. We’re fine just us, aren’t we, H?” She squeezed Harry’s hand and he looked up at her and grinned.
“How long have you been back in Arundel?” Kristoff asked her.
“A couple of months. I stayed in France a couple of years after I graduated, then moved to London for a job, then after I broke up with Harry’s dad I moved in with my sister for a bit, she’s in London. She’s a lawyer. Then, I don’t know. Arundel still felt like home, you know? I liked growing up here, I wanted Harry to have that. So I got the HR job. It’s only a couple of days a week but I thought I could cope with that, I hadn’t worked since before his nibs was born.”
“I’m surprised we haven’t run into each other before now.”
“Why, do you hang around the Children’s Centre much? I hope not,” Anna said, and laughed. “Oh,” she said. “I haven’t asked about you, how rude! Are you married, do you have any children?”
“No and no. I’m single. Had a couple of girlfriends, didn’t work out.”
“I’m sorry. What made you go into IT?”
They’d reached the park. Kristoff couldn’t remember exactly where the playground was, but Harry clearly knew, and pulled his mother along by one hand, while she tried to steer the pushchair with the other. Kristoff helped her with the gate.
“After you left,” he said, “I couldn’t stick working at the school any more. I don’t know. So I quit and ended up temping in an office, and I found out I was good with the computers, so the next September I went back to college. And here I am.”
“Good for you.”
Kristoff shrugged. “Had to get a proper job some time.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t get the systems analyst job.”
“I didn’t?”
“No, I - oh, fudge. No. Sorry. They didn’t tell people yet.” She sighed. “I am terrible at working in HR.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t think I would, where I am is fine. Just thought I’d give it a go.”
“I’m glad you did,” Anna said, smiling at him.
They reached the playground and Anna parked the pushchair just off the path.
“You know,” she said as she watched Harry scramble up the steps of the little slide, “We never actually broke up, did we? I realised that. So I’m sorry, but I did cheat on you a bit in Paris. And after that.”
She said it quite calmly, even cheerfully.
“To be fair,” Kristoff said, “I haven’t been completely faithful, either.”
Anna laughed. “I’m glad, that would have been pretty lonely. Actually, come to think of it, did we ever get together? Like, officially, have the boyfriend/girlfriend talk?”
“I think we just started kissing a lot.”
“Yeah, that’s how I remember it. Oh, no, wait, darling -”
She caught Harry by the hood of his coat just as he reached the gate through to the duck pond, which had been left ajar. “We’ll feed the ducks another day, okay? Do you want to go on the swings?”
“Swings!”
“Okay, poppet, come on,” and she bore him off.
“I’m sorry,” she said once Harry was safely trapped in the baby swing kicking his little legs, “for springing him on you like that. I just, didn’t know how to say it.”
“It’s fine, Anna.”
“And I’d’ve had to bring him anyway, of course.”
“Neither of us has been frozen for ten years. I own more than one suit and a briefcase, you’re a mum, life has kept happening because that’s what life does.”
“True.” She gave the swing another big push and Harry squealed.
“And I’m the one who should be sorry,” Kristoff said.
“What for?”
“For - back then. How it all ended.”
Anna shrugged. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
“Can I ask a question?”
“Sure.”
“Where, at a private girls’ school in the middle of nowhere, did you get a condom?”
Anna laughed. “The school nurse gave me some. When she saw me hanging around with you. She said, you’re eighteen and I can’t stop you doing what you like but if you get pregnant it’ll look bad for the school. And I was glad because it was something I was worrying about but I didn’t think I could ask her. Not that it mattered in the end.”
“You know,” Kristoff said, “I thought I was being so mature and respectful, turning you down, but I wasn’t. I was being a massive fu- flipping idiot. I have spent YEARS kicking myself over it.”
Anna looked him up and down. “So when did you?” she said.
“When did I what?”
“You know. Lose the old V-plates.”
“Oh - second year of college. I had a girlfriend who was studying to be a teacher.”
“How wholesome.”
“I guess.”
Anna pushed the swing. “I’m admiring how you’re not asking me,” she said.
“Maybe I was just assuming it was some sophisticated Frenchman -”
Anna laughed again. “No, actually. Another foreign student. American. American guys are so forward, you know? It can be a bit - disarming. Anyway, then he broke up with me, so.” She hesitated. “I’d rather it had been you,” she said.
“Same.”
They stood in silence for a moment, Anna giving the swing a half-hearted push every now and again. Then she looked at him and said, “God, this is so weird just to be standing here talking to you! As if you were, like, a real person.”
Kristoff had to laugh at that, even though he knew exactly what she meant. “Look at us,” he said, “Both real people who have spent ten years having lives and experiences.”
“I know, right? So weird. Were you in love with me?” she added, idly.
“Oh, hopelessly.”
“That’s what I thought.” She grinned at him.
Kristoff took a deep breath. “Are you seeing anyone? At the moment?”
“I have been single,” Anna said calmly, “Ever since Mr Anna-I-Don’t-Think-I’m-Ready-For-This took to his heels, never to be seen again.”
“Never?”
“Nope. When I moved I wrote to him, to let him know where we were, but I didn’t get a reply. Maybe he’d moved, I don’t know. And obviously I wrote when Harry was born, but he didn’t reply to that, either. Well, maybe it’s better he stay away altogether, I don’t know.”
Harry had got bored with swinging and was trying to climb out of the seat while it was still in motion. Anna stopped it and he clung to her as she lifted him out.
“I’ve never understood men like that,” Kristoff said. Anna shrugged. She tried to put Harry down but he wrapped his arms around her neck and kissed her on the cheek. “Mummy loves you,” she told him, kissing the top of his head, “And Mummy’s going to bring you up to respect women! Yes she is!”
“Anyway,” she said, turning back to Kristoff, “Weren’t you about to ask me out?”
“I - yes? Is that bad?”
Anna tilted her head to one side, moving Harry to her hip. “As long as you’re not just trying to make up for - past regrets.”
“No, of course not. Look, I know we’ve both changed a lot since then, but -”
“But?”
“- you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And I didn’t think I’d get a second chance to tell you even that much.”
Anna bit her lip over a smile. “You never used to say things like that.”
“Just used to think them, then.”
She looked away, still trying not to smile, and put down her squirming son. “Alright. Yes. Okay. Oh, no, wait -” and she was chasing after Harry across the park.
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aplaceforthesoul · 6 years ago
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Anonymous submitted:
19f hi there, this is gonna be a bit of a mess but i’d really like to vent a little if that’s okay :’)
so i’m going into my third year of college at a school about 4 hours away from home, and i enjoy it there a lot. my friends are wonderful and even though i’m really busy with classes and working, i have a lot of fun there. and i love being home for the summer and hanging out with my family, but this summer has had me feeling really depressed and not in a good headspace for school to start. being home just makes me feel so useless. i’m still learning to drive so i can’t really go anywhere without having my parents/friends drive me, i couldn’t find a job this summer, and i’ve been alone for most of every day. at first being able to relax and spend time alone was amazing, but it’s gotten to be so bad lately. i’ve just kind of fallen into this rut of feeling unable to do anything, even things i enjoy like writing and drawing, and that just makes me even guiltier for not using my free time wisely like i told myself i was going to.
i feel even worse when i look at everything my friends have done this summer. a bunch of them went abroad, some of them got jobs, and a lot of them went on vacations and hung out with friends almost all the time. my family and i don’t really have much money so i’ve never been on a trip or vacation, and obviously i would never fault my parents for that. but it’s getting to the point where they won’t even let me go to a concert with a friend out of “protectiveness,” (so obviously, even if we could afford it, they would never let me study abroad) and i understand why, but i feel like i’m losing my mind. i’m an adult now but i don’t feel like it. it’s like i never get to do anything or go anywhere and all my friends are having such amazing experiences and going out and living their lives while i’m always left behind, and that just makes it even worse. it’s like i’m not good at living my own life, or i’m too scared or lazy to try, and i don’t know how to fix it. i just feel so useless and childish and sad all the time, and i know that feeling will fade once i get back to school and start feeling more independent again, but it really is making me doubt whether i’ll ever feel in power of my own life after school, if that makes sense.
sorry this got a little long and existential and deep haha, this is just something that’s been bothering me for a while and i haven’t really talked to anyone about it before now. any advice/insight is super appreciated :’)
I’ve been in situations where I’ve had extended time off from university or work, and I can say with certainty, that there’s definitely such a thing as “too much free time”. I’m someone who’s pretty introverted, love spending time by myself? but even with me, there gets to a point where I need to stop being alone and change my environment and connect more with people again. so I feel you friend, I do ):
is there any room between now and when school starts to see some friends, keep busy? or maybe take a walk into your local area, visit the community centre, see if there’s any activities happening for young people that you could join? anything all to get you back into the swing of being more social and connected to the community and environment around you (:
you’ll definitely feel in power and in control of your own life soon, promise. I mean I’m 25 now, I was 23 last yr when I made the decision to move to the other side of the world by myself?! if you go back in time to my 19 yr old self, she would have had noooo idea that she would have been living it up solo in london haha. I had no clue that my life would be as it is now, I would never have thought that I had this much freedom and independence and confidence in myself to do that. and like lots of peoples lives work out that way! none of us can see into the future, none of us know what’s around the corner.
the only constant in life (ironically) is change, if there’s one thing I know? it’s that things don’t stay the same forever. life might feel a little stagnant for you right now and it’s hard having that patience to wait it out? but promise, things do change, new and different opportunities will open themselves up to you.
so for the time being? definitely avoid social media (only going to make you feel worse), get yourself out a bit more and be social where you can, chat to friends and offer to hang out if that’s possible, get more involved in the community, maybe even volunteer at a local charity shop? whatever is available (: 
I think you’re right in saying that this current feeling will fade a bit when you go back to school, but you can still fight for more control and independence when you’re at school! if you ever want to travel and feel that study abroad could be a good way to do it, then go for it! you are an adult now, you’re free to make your own choices and decisions. your parents can support you or not? but they couldn’t literally stop you from going, it’s not like you need them to sign consent forms anymore. your parents control /protectiveness over you, will only stop when you stop it. standing up to them isn’t disrespecting them, it’s gently letting them know that they need to accept that you’re an adult now who’s free to make her own life choices. take care xxx
- tash
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