#gonna be considering doing an inbox call of some sort later I think... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tundrainafrica · 4 years ago

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Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (15/17)

Summary: “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” And Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Note: Feedback is very much appreciated!

Link: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

“Belated happy birthday.” That first greeting was underwhelming in the deafening silence.

The room had been strangely quiet and it had been that way since he first entered, a far cry from the air during their past sessions. Shela should have waved one hand as he closed the door behind him. Even before he got to the seat, she should have been throwing multiple questions in succession.

What else did you get written?

Anything happening in school?

How’s Hange?

Oddly enough, Shela had only followed him with her eyes as he entered the room. The silence had felt like something pounding in his ears and her gaze had become something worth trifling his own consciousness with.

To top it all off, it had ended so anticlimactically with one greeting that Levi was left utterly confused as he sat on the chair in front of her.

What do you want her to do? Levi found himself asking silently as he matched Shela’s stare with his own.

Her blue eyes though were still warm, her eyes wide with what could have been curiosity. Levi started to suspect that it had all been a figment of his imagination that only a while ago they were watching and observing. Even as he settled on his seat, he sensed there were still questions up in the air that Levi could have grasped if he reached hard enough.

“Is that why you called me here? A free birthday session?” Levi asked.

“I just thought it was a good first greeting.” Shela’s voice was casual, innocent, and almost annoying.

Something wanted to burst out from inside him. That excuse of a greeting had only done the bare minimum to help it. In fact, it had done worse. It poked at him, whispering to him to figure out for himself what the hell that something was..

He was in no mood for a guessing game though. And he hadn’t been for the past few weeks. “Then why did you call me?” He asked. It had been a tall order to match her gaze, to come up with the right answers to questions she hadn’t even asked yet.

Shela shrugged. “I just wanted to check on my favorite patient.”

“I haven’t been your patient in a while.”

“We had scheduled sessions. You just didn’t go to them.”

“I was busy…. Besides, don’t you have anything better to do than chase one patient?”

Shela raised one eyebrow. “Don’t you have anything better to do than to come here? You had a choice to answer that message and believe me, you’re free to leave if you want to Levi.” She gestured her hands towards the door in one long exaggerated movement.

One movement that only served to sink Levi deeper into the sofa chair. In those few seconds as Levi leaned back, he saw once again the gradual shift in her gaze from something innocent to something cold and observing, and it was as if she was studying some sort of a specimen. And he was the specimen.

He was certain that was the exact same gaze he felt as he went through the door. But it wasn’t at all unfamiliar. Those had been the eyes she gave after all when she had asked the precise questions that broke the icebergs inside him into chunks instead of winnowing through the hard surface.

Why did that gaze in particular have him tense up at that exact moment? Levi didn’t have to wait too long for an answer though.

“You haven't written in a while,” she said.

“I deleted it.”

Shela didn’t look too surprised though. “Why?” She asked.

“It just seemed like a useless thing to do.”

“Why would you say it was useless?

“I was wasting a lot of time with it.” “So you did continue writing after our last meeting.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Just a guess… You only deleted the file a few weeks ago so it must mean you were thinking about it.”

Levi’s eyes widened and soon, he was starting to rack his brain for an explanation. “I don’t remember sharing you the file…”

“Hange told me what happened.”

“So you asked her about me?”

Shela shook her head. “No Levi, she approached me. She was worried about you.”

Hange. Levi found himself taking a glance at his phone in the silence that followed, the third message from the top of his inbox. Last touched weeks before.

He had decided to spend the holidays and his birthday back home. He liked to tell himself that he had only done that because with his hectic student-athlete schedule the past few years, he never had the chance to spend more than three days worth of holidays back home. When at home though, all he had done was lock himself in his bedroom for days on end.

Levi couldn’t convince himself for long. He had only gone home to avoid Hange, to avoid any reminder of the past few months and to avoid the almost nagging regret at having deleted the file.

With the file gone, he had felt like something was missing, painfully missing.

“And I’m concerned about what’s going on between you two,” Shela said.

“You’re paid to be concerned.”

“Oh? So you think I only became a therapist to get paid? Believe me Levi if I didn’t care I wouldn’t have called you here today. I could have gotten another patient and have been paid this extra hour.”

“Then why are you here? Why did you ask me to come here?” Levi felt stinging behind his eyes and a knot in his throat as he spoke up. A part of him actually contemplated leaving at that moment, yet it had been brushed away so quickly by something else, an odd feeling of desperation. He wanted something from her. Hell, he wanted something but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was.

“I told you, I was worried and I wanted to make sense of this with you,” Shela answered. The answer had been underwhelming to say the least especially with the way she narrowed her eyes at him.

And if Levi hadn’t been so desperate for any sort of closure, for that particular reaction he so looked for, maybe he would have just stood up and left.

Shela wasn’t done though. “Are those memories trapping you?”

Memories? Since when had it been about memories? “What memories?”

“Memories of Commander Hange. Captain Levi,” she said confidently, as if they were her memories to begin with. She spoke in such a way that she could have even been talking about real people. Very real people.

Such confidence, such forcefulness and her attempt to shoehorn all that into his reality sent a sudden sting through his chest. If Commander Hange was real, that meant she really died, that meant she really burned alive up there in the sky.

Levi would have preferred that image to have just been a figment of his imagination. “They’re stories.”

“Yet for a while you wanted to believe they were memories right? So what happened in between Levi? What did I miss?”

“I realized… They weren’t real…”

Shela let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re still trying to deny it huh? You’ve always been difficult to crack…” She cleared her throat. “So, Hange told me, the commander died. Then you deleted the file and now you don’t wanna talk about it right?”

Levi didn’t reply.

Shela continued to speak, seeming unfazed. “Here is something I noticed about you. When you injured your knee, your first instinct had been to insist you’re okay then soon you shut up and find something else to cling to--- writing. When writing started to hurt, suddenly you decide to delete the document then tell me everything’s fine. What are you gonna do now? You’re gonna find a new hobby?”

Academics, jumping. He thought to himself. Levi had spent the past few days isolated in his room back home, finishing his own thesis and following the jumping tournaments of his own teammates. As if there was much else to do anyway.

Shela rested her chin on her hands and stared straight ahead. Her eyes seemed to focus on something behind him, as if the answers were found beyond the wide window behind him. “I started to think to myself… Why did Hange’s death of all things hurt you enough to cause that same grief? I read your story, you could have mourned Erwin’s death, you could have mourned your Petra's death, mourned Isabel or Farlan’s death. Why Hange’s? Why did she push you to the edge enough to delete the file?”

“It built up,” Levi answered. That was the most natural explanation right? Or at least the most natural he could think of.

Shela nodded, seeming satisfied with the answer. “Let’s move on to the next question then. Do you think that Hange’s death was any special? If there was something that made it the tipping point in the first place?”

“Can’t a tipping point be something small?”

Shela shook her head. “Tipping points can be small I agree but remember, when you told me you weren’t going to write anymore? It was as if you knew what would be happening next. You looked terrified.”

Somewhere along the way, the remnants of Shela’s gentle facade had completely fallen, replaced by something stone cold, yet confident and almost mocking. Levi was starting to get a little more irritated at such assumptions. Regardless of whether they were true or not.

“So tell me Levi, what makes Hange so special? What made Captain Levi so hesitant to write the next part? Then what made this Levi here want to delete it soon after writing it?”

Levi only had to look behind him, at the sky just outside the window to articulate it for himself. It was surprisingly easy to grasp. It was a simple feeling after all that never left. “It hurt,” he admitted. He could have said more but he had found himself at a loss for words a second later as he imagined the rumbling before him and that one silhouette that disappeared into the blue.

“And if you’re that invested in Hange’s death. I’m sure Erwin’s death, your special squad’s death, should have hurt as much right?”

“They hurt too,” Levi added. He started to become a little more aware of himself. They hurt too but as much as Hange’s death? Not enough for sure to even have him consider deleting the file.

“Then why didn’t you delete the file if they hurt? From what I could tell Captain Levi was inseparable from Erwin.”

Levi let his eyes fall to the empty coffee table in front of him, searching for something worth a distraction among the pockmarks of the wood. Shela’s eyes were getting sharper by the second.

“I’ll ease you into my theory slowly and feel free to tell me if I’m wrong...you and Hange were inseparable right?”

Captain Levi and squad leader Hange Zoe. They were from different teams but they did hang out a lot together. With that quick recall, Levi nodded.

“And you lost a lot of people in your life… So I started to wonder, if Captain Levi spent so much time keeping his distance, being aloof, completely aware that the everyone could end up dead, why did he cling to Hange?”

“Captain Levi cared about a lot of people.”

“I wasn’t denying that Levi. I was asking you, why did he cling to Hange? Why were they inseparable? Attraction? Mutual Support? Love? All three at once?”

The last three words had been things Levi found himself musing over as she continued to talk. But then, he couldn’t figure out for himself the answer. “We couldn’t fall in love. There was a war.” Those words had come out on their own. He only realized seconds later that it didn't answer the question.

Shela gave him a cat-like grin. “We? Huh?”

Levi cleared his throat. “They---,” he corrected.

“Okay, you’re beating around the bush a little too much. I’ll tell you my theory and if you don’t make the effort to figure it out for yourself, this will be my assumption. You didn't think she’d die. You didn’t expect her to die so you took her for granted. Am I wrong, Captain Levi?”

“Took her for granted…” Levi almost spat out those words as he said it. “You can’t just assume that…”

“By take for granted, I meant ‘I can get past pain, death, loss, as long as she’s there’ and for what? You just assumed she was immortal didn’t you? That she couldn't die, since she's always been there. And so the moment she died, suddenly grief hit you like a bus.” She straightened herself up on the seat. “Maybe you thought you would have died first?” Shela pressed.

“I was dying in the woods. I thought she’d be the one to survive the whole time.”

“But you know, it’s not uncommon for people to be this way. To have this person there and just assume that person's immortal, or to think ‘as long as this person is here’ I’ll be okay. It’s only natural that humans find hope in the living. For example,a lot of parents do that too with their own kids and that’s why parents losing their kids are one of the most devastating cases of grief I’ve encountered…” She trailed off. “But I digress, There’s one question about you I’ve been exploring for a while and I’ve always wanted to ask. You might not know the answer yourself but it’s worth a try.” Shela paused and looked at him expectantly.

Even when he sat on her chair, frozen by her cold stare, he still managed to force a nod.

“Why do you remember? Why is Captain Levi forcing his own memories to live on? Unless he had some unresolved feelings right?”

Attraction? Mutual Support? Love? You took her for granted.

Even when moving, Levi let those words, those suggestions run free in his mind. The feeling, the ache in his chest, the weight on his shoulders and the knot at his throat that only evolved into some tremble in his lips. It was everything at once, Levi was sure.

Maybe, I took her for granted. Maybe I should have stopped her. Levi thought to himself. But he wasn’t going to say it out loud yet.

“And something tells me you don’t regret much Captain Levi Ackerman,” Shela said. The gentleness in her face was back. “But maybe if you allowed yourself to regret back then, maybe all these feelings of regret, grief… They wouldn’t have bundled up now, you wouldn’t be hurting like this. You didn't let yourself experience grief and loss… You didn’t let yourself regret even in your deathbed. Now, everything just comes pouring out in your next life because you just let it build up inside you?” She had phrased it as a question but as Shela enunciated those words, Levi couldn’t help but see deep thought in them, as if she had discerned and answered the question for herself already.

“How can you assume that?” Levi challenged. It was a weak attempt, at that point he was starting to get more and more convinced. It had just been a matter of reality pulling him away from an almost ethereal concept.

Soon, he did grasp it, the thing he had been looking for, that one feeling he had been desiring since the start of the conversation.

It manifested first as a knowing smile. And before Levi could respond, grip on to some decent comeback to her long winded tirade, he found himself hesitating, focusing instead on how his shoulders dropped and how the wind was knocked out of himself slowly and the quick movement as he shifted his weight to his hands pressed on the sofa.

“I’m not assuming how you feel. I’m laying out some information, coming up with a theory and leaving it in the air for you to decide whether it’s true or not.” She didn’t continue from there. Instead she dropped her clipboard on the table and walked towards one of the bookshelves, pulling out a blue binder.

“What if it's too detailed to pass up as a reasonable theory?” Levi managed to say. He found himself counting the lines on the wooden table in front of him. In a daze, he had been too distracted to reorganize for himself, Shela’s theory. And he started to even doubt his own ability to respond.

“I’ve been seeing other patients, I think I’ve encountered enough to make some fair guesses. Besides, I told you I’ve been studying reincarnation for a while.” She dropped the blue binder in front of him on the table. “But you still think it’s too detailed to be believable huh? What if I told you I experienced it too? That's why I know the details."

Levi could only stare at the blue binder. He only got so far as to hover his hand over it before he hesitated. He looked up at her, following her as she sat back on the chair in front of him.

“What are you waiting for?” She asked.

“Should I open this?”

“I wouldn’t have put it there if I didn’t want you to read it Levi,” She was looking at him expectantly as if she was excited for him to see what was inside.

Levi started to wonder why he even hesitated. Regardless, he still went at it slowly. The plastic cover on the binder was warm to the touch and for a second or so, he allowed himself to pinch at it, see where the plastic would give into the pressure.

Maybe he had been on that for a second longer than he should have. He was still hesitating. He was still nervous.

“What are you scared of? It’s a binder,” Shela said.

“What’s inside?”

“It’s my research on reincarnation.”

“For your PhD?”

Shela paused for a second before answering. “I created two pieces of writing for my PhD, something stomachable by the scientific body and something just for myself,” Shela explained. “Because I honestly don’t think anyone would have believed it either if I was telling them I was seeing very clear visions of a past life.”

Do you really believe these were memories from a past life? Levi muttered. For a second, he had wondered if he had said it loud enough for her to hear. But when he opened the binder, he quickly realized he didn’t need an answer.

The title of the work was generic, easily forgettable. But the subtitle underneath and the author’s name spoke to him in ways Levi couldn’t fully comprehend just yet. Comprehension came quickly after running his eyes over the title then the subtitle underneath

He read her name out loud. Her first name settled at the back of his mouth and he couldn’t be too sure if he had pronounced it correctly. But when he said it a second time, the name rolled off his tongue too easily, as if it was all too familiar. His mind had just taken a split second longer to process it.

From my past life? Levi thought to himself. At that point, he couldn’t be too sure. It had seemed like too distant of a memory. He never had to use her name with her after all. He only remembered her having taught him to pronounce it eons ago.

Her last name next to it was all too familiar, yet surprising. And Levi had little to no problem, saying it for himself, even when still recovering from that small bout of surprise.

“Ackerman’s my maiden name,” she explained. “And I’m sure you saw it already, my first name is a little old fashioned.” She didn’t seem so self conscious though, as if she was aware that many lives ago, she had been teaching him to say it back when it had been just the both of them in the underground city.

Levi said her whole name out loud again. As soon as he looked back up at her, putting name to face, he found himself transported back to that small room, running his hand over her curly black hair and locking gazes with those piercing cold blue eyes. Then, they were his only source of comfort, his sanctuary.

And he never did figure out if he said it right back then in the underground city. Just to make sure though, he read it aloud in front of her again, willing himself to say it clearly and firmly.

“Written by: Kuchel Ackerman.”

***

Bookends. That’s how it seemed at least. Levi had two pages written out by that night.

He had his earliest childhood memories up there, everything as visceral as possible from the sights, to the scents, to her touch. With not too much context though, his earliest memories stuck to him as comforting sensations more than anything. Within an hour of writing, he gave up and concluded that he never did remember much of it.

Right under those early childhood sensations, articulated to the best of his capabilities, were memories after Kuchel’s death, training to fight in the underground. Then, written below that were narrations on life after the war, his remaining years on a wheelchair, travelling around Marley, joining the peace ambassadors on occasional trips.

There was no transition between them, nothing more glaring than paragraph breaks.

They were two sections with little to no connection to each other. But Levi at least knew for himself, that in-between would have been those long winded narrations on his life in the survey corps and his life during the war against Marley.

For some reason, he wasn’t too bothered about the missing parts though. As if he had already accepted for himself that he made the decision to delete it.

Finishing what he started. That’s what it felt like and that’s all there was to it. Reading Shela’s own work after all had him somehow accepting that they were memories more than dreams.

Something that had to be immortalized somewhere/ The acceptance though that the grief, the loss and the pain were memories not dreams was slow going. The dreams had been painful, realizing they were someone’s reality, only aggravated it.

Kuchel’s words echoed in his head. The last questions she said before they separated that day. Back then, she had escorted him to the door of her office and they had stood there for a few minutes before parting ways.

Can you let it go?

I don’t even know what I’m trying to let go of. For all he knew, something died in him back in that day in Odiha. Consequently, there were emotions he couldn’t even access, as if part of life had ended for him in that single moment.

You can’t access or comprehend those emotions because you didn’t let yourself feel it. You didn't ride through it.

And she had pointed it out then. Captain Levi had never been the most emotional person because he had never allowed himself to feel.

That’s your homework. Ride through the pain, the loss, the grief, the regret. And when the time is right, you’ll be able to let it go. I know you will.

Opening the laptop wasn’t easy. Staring at the blank document sheet and deciding for himself the first words to say took ages longer than what he would have liked.

As soon as he had decided for himself that he was going to write though, everything came out so seamlessly. He only had to hover his hands over the keyboard, feel for the right keys, for them to start moving on their own. It turned out writing with little regard for grammar and punctuation or for unwelcome emotional reactions, was oddly liberating.

He had started off with bullet points but soon enough the sentences were too long and the bullet points were rendered useless. Eventually, he scrapped the bullet points altogether.

“There was a peace treaty,” Levi said aloud as he typed it out. “Armin and the others, they became peace ambassadors…”

“And Mikasa…” Levi trailed off as he remembered. She was back in Paradis, back in their old town of Shiganshina where Eren’s head was laid to rest. He thought back to Mikasa and for a second he almost felt guilty for even questioning her decision to stay with Eren. “If this was how it felt for you, I wouldn’t be surprised why you’d be hesitant to leave him,” Levi said, he leaned back on his chair, stretched out his good leg and stared blankly at the ceiling above him.

The pain was similar, he was sure. He had seen flashes of visiting an empty grave as he wrote. The white ceiling above him and the contrast it provided made those dark memories all the more vivid.

The face he had been longing to see though, as he stared at the grave then, was just a phone call away. And before he even noticed it himself, he had reached for the phone next to his laptop, turning it screen up.

He had no one else to call so her number and their message thread was still one of the first on his inbox. Even if he hadn’t opened it in weeks.

Of course, it would. Hange had sent messages multiple times the past few weeks..

December 23 8:15 AM

I heard you went home.

December 25 12:01 AM

Happy Birthday! :D

January 1 12:00 AM

Happy New Year! Wishing you a bright new year and a speedy recovery

January 3 6:21 AM

Wanna talk when you get back?

January 5 2:23 AM

Hey, I’m sorry about everything. I should have been more sensitive to your needs. Even if you don’t wanna meet after this, it’s fine. I had a great time working with you and I’ll remember these past few months :D. I’m just sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.

Just assure me please. Did you get to talk to someone? I hope you did. I was just concerned. But it doesn’t matter too much now. As long as you’re okay.

Levi didn’t scroll up past those last few messages. The rest had been paragraphs worth of apologies even he didn’t want to ponder.

Besides, there were more important things to him then, like finding the right words to say as a response to that latest message.

He sensed closure there. Yet, he wasn’t ready for closure. His mind was scrambling for some way to reopen the conversation then.

It was late at night though. Levi was exhausted and impatient. He was sure if he sent something and slept it off, he should wake up to a message the next morning.

So the message he sent then had been automatic, typical. It didn’t require too much thought to compose.

January 9 11:17 PM

Hey, when are you free to talk?

He decided then, he could leave it to his future self to come up with another response in the morning.

***

Levi’s sleep was light, light enough that the quick ping of his phone was more than enough to wake him up. He was awake enough to reach for his phone on the side table, pull it under the blankets with him and open his messaging application.

It wasn’t Hange who had messaged.

“Coach?” Levi muttered as he sat up in bed.

Sorry if this is pretty last minute. Mikasa agreed to meet at the track today this afternoon around 3-3:30. You think you could make it?

Levi typed a short text accepting the invite and sent it out.

He pulled at the curtains of his window. The sun was out already. He stared back at his phone at the upper right of the screen.

9:23 AM.

He was oddly disappointed. Other plans meant he didn’t have to think about the ignored message at the top of his inbox. He had sent the message at eleven last night. It had been almost twelve hours since then.

Was she taking a really long slumber? Or was she just ignoring him?

Nothing much to do until three so Levi opened his laptop and worked on his own thesis. Working on something as utterly boring and monotonous as a school requirement though didn’t make time run faster.

Levi was sure he had gone through at least fifty articles of doping cases among professional athletes. When he looked back at the clock though, he saw only two hours had passed.

He ordered lunch. Time went notably faster when he was just scrolling through his social media, yet excruciatingly slower still than what he was used to. And the main culprit? Hange’s online status and her activity on social media.

Hange was still liking photos which meant one thing: She was ignoring messages.

He went down to pick up his delivery from the dorm lobby and on the way up, he took a detour. All the way to Hange’s room on the other side of the building, a five minute walk for most people. For Levi it could have been ten minutes or it could have been ages. He still had that awkward gait which made the journey all the more frustrating.

The hallways were quiet but it wasn’t unexpected. School didn’t start for another two weeks. Hange’s room was along the quiet hallway and Hange had always been loud. So the stark contrast had been unsettling to say the least.

What do you expect her to do? Run down the halls screaming your name? He thought to himself. For some reason, that was what he was expecting and that was what he would’ve liked.

He took advantage of that silence. He padded lightly through the hallway, attempting to segregate the sounds of the creak of the floorboard with whatever he sounds he could make out from the rooms.

Nothing much. All silence. Of course it would be silent though, that wasn’t Hange’s room yet.

Her room was towards the end of the hall, the third to the last door to the right. Eventually he got tired of keeping his footsteps and his awkward gait light and he found himself scurrying--- at least to the best of his own injured abilities--- towards the door.

He willed himself not to make a sound. He wasn’t sure though if he had been the sneakiest.

He was still quiet enough at least to hear something. He had to press his ear to the door to hear it clearly, the rhythmic clacking of the keyboard, the sound of books hitting the desk and a loud yawn that had been very much Hange’s.

The loud yawn in particular sent a twinge up his spine and an ache in his chest and Levi had to swallow hard to get his bearings. He missed her.

He knocked on the door once. Then twice to make sure she heard it. Then he waited five long seconds for any response.

There was no response. He slapped the door. Still no answer.

Within a few seconds more, he started to get self conscious. She didn’t reply to his messages while being glaringly online. She was blatantly ignoring his knocks on the door. Did she actually want to see him?

And Levi was starting to notice the growling of his stomach. It was enough of a reminder that he hadn’t even had breakfast that morning.

A little disheartened, he made the journey back to his room.

***

The coldest point of winter was coming. Levi would have noticed it by just looking at the calendar. It had been a while since he stood outside long enough to let the cold sink deep under his skin.

And he was only reminded of such weather patterns when he stepped on to the open air track which was understandably empty. Two in the afternoon shouldn’t be too cold but that day in particular had Levi shivering, his teeth chattering in such an unfamiliar way.

That would have been expected. He didn’t spend much time outdoors anymore, Maybe that had explained that sudden, unfamiliar susceptibility to the cold. He could never be too sure though.

He scanned the field for any sign of Mikasa or his coach. What first caught his eye then had been the horizontal bar, set up where it always was. He hadn't returned to the field since his injuryand seeing the bar like it always had been, sent a wave of nostalgia and longing through him.

For a while, he was fixated and for a few seconds more, he vacillated between sitting on the bleachers or walking to the middle of the track where it was set up. Alone in the field though with nothing much else to do though, he opted to pass the time reminiscing

The bar was set high enough for Levi to have to reach up but still low enough for him to be able to grip it hard. It was cold to the touch. It was a fair distance away from him and it hovered over him, masquerading as something almost unattainable.

But maybe it was unattainable. Levi found himself strangely sad at the distance, still unable to fathom that only a few months ago, that bar had been a very easy height to clear.

“Hey… Your coach said you’d be here.”

Levi quickly turned towards the voice.

Mikasa stood before him in joggers and a sweatshirt. Her hair clipped back, red blotches on her cheek. Levi only had to listen to her breaths and notice the way she curled her lips as she took steady breaths to conclude that she had been running.

“Coach is training you now? In the middle of winter?”

She shook her head. “No, I wanted to try out your track for myself. He left the club room and the equipment room open and told me to just try it out while he goes out to check on your team.”

“What made you change your mind?”

She avoided his gaze. “To be honest I’m still not completely sure about this yet. Your coach knows I’m not. But I thought I’d try it out, get to know your school more.”

“It’s a good choice,” Levi said.

For a second, the two were silent. Levi chose that moment to look back up at the bar in front of him but he could see from his peripherals, Mikasa still hadn’t looked away from him. So he waited.

She spoke up eventually. “Hey, about what happened at the diner… I’m sorry about that. I know I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I heard about your injury a while back, even before we met. Even if I don’t like jumping that much either, I think it would have hurt too…”

I’m fine. That had been his first instinct and he had opened his mouth ready to say it.

That’s your homework. Ride through the grief, the loss, the pain. Kuchel’s voice tore into his train of thought.

Will that actually help? He had been riding through that grief last night as he wrote, he had let it wash over him then. If he had been a little more introspective, he would have realized although it did hurt, it wasn’t a heavy, crushing type of hurt. It was a pain that still allowed him motions.

It granted him enough control to still function as a person. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not.” But it was still hard to admit. “It takes time,” Levi added as he looked back up at the horizontal bar and behind it the clear blue sky. The color blue was bright, warm yet melancholic.

Mikasa didn’t reply. Her stare though seemed more focused. When Levi looked at her, made eye contact, comprehension washed over him. He knew she understood. And he caught that comprehension quickly like some contagion.

He spoke up again. “Eren means a lot to you huh?”

“We grew up together, lived along the same street. We went to the same school since kinder. And since we were young, he'd get agitated a lot, pick a lot of fights and I always had to look out for him.” Mikasa put one hand behind her neck and craned her neck to look up at the sky. “I almost hesitated to even try jumping since I wouldn’t be able to protect him as much anymore…”

“Why did you start jumping then?”

“After I got scouted in sophomore year, Eren convinced me to try it. He was the one who wanted me to widen my world.”

“And he talked to you again about this?”

“He and Armin did. They told me to consider this.”

“Then it should be an easy decision.”

Mikasa smiled. “I know it’s supposed to be an easy decision. But how I feel about Eren doesn’t make it easy.. I’ve known Eren my whole life and don’t get me wrong, I’ve never lost him but... Somehow, I can imagine how it would feel like to lose him. So I don’t wanna let go.”

“But losing people, losing things that are precious to us is a fact of life. We’re gonna deal with it anyway. Besides, you’re not losing him, he’ll make college in a year or so.”

“He won’t make Paradis University.”

“You’ll have him on the weekends.”

“But will I be able to handle that set up?” Mikasa met his gaze again. She never lost Eren or so that was what she said.

Will I be able to handle it? Yet why was Levi seeing grief in her eyes? Why did such a strong wave of comprehension hit him almost violently in that moment where their eyes met?

Empathy? It was an easy answer to pick up for himself. But maybe it ran deeper than that, because suddenly, Levi was aware of the ground under him, the cold air caressing him, the loud rustle of leaves. He was feeling everything at once. And with it, he felt the twinge in his stomach, the pang in his chest, the knot in his throat.

The grief never left. The loss never left. And the pain gripped him tightly then. Letting himself feel it had left him with a strange bout of confidence, and a wave of liberation that seemed to stick and when Levi spoke up again, he wondered if he was speaking for himself or for her.

“You won’t know if you can handle it until you ride through it yourself.”

Mikasa seemed convinced.

His coach had arrived a few minutes after the conversation, incessantly apologizing about the traffic. The usual pleasant exchange followed.

“How are you?”

“Slowly learning to walk again, focusing on academics.,” Levi answered. “How’s the team?” They were preparing for nationals. He didn’t need an answer. There were still things his coach knew though which couldn’t be researched and he was still invested in any response his coach could give.

“They’re preparing for nationals, training in the indoor gym.” The indoor gym a few minute car ride from their campus. Levi had been training there every winter and it was easy to picture the drills they were probably doing then.

It soon evolved into some unnecessary athlete propaganda which Levi surmised was to entice MIkasa.

“The scouts for the national team have been watching Elijah closely. He’ll probably be getting an invitation soon after nationals are over,” he said, soon after the pleasantries had died out into an awkward silence. Greg turned to Levi. “They were asking about you too. You’d have gotten the invite. No one’s forgotten about you.”

Was that for Mikasa? Or for him? Soon, Levi started to ask. Was that supposed to cheer him up? Levi couldn’t gauge intention though and he found himself looking away as he started to feel the beginnings of a loss of control.

Mikasa may have sensed it. Or at least sensed that moment as a good time to speak up. “Could you tell me more about your athletics program? Levi told me a lot about his experience here and I think I might just be interested.”

The digression and the exchange that followed was quicker and more enthusiastic than something Levi would have easily caught on to. Suddenly Greg was shifting between enthusiasm and relief. And it evolved to some offer to tour her of the school. Then some mentions about dinner.

Levi though was making excuses. The campus was too wide for him to walk through injured. It was getting a little too cold. And with the peak of winter nearing, it might just even get dark in the next hour or so. His main reason for staying wasn’t among those though.

He had been sneaking glances at the bar and at the blue sky behind it. While the field was empty, while the school was lifeless and while the bar and the equipment was set up in front of him, he realized he might just have some unfinished business on the field.

“You guys go ahead. I’ll fix up the equipment here.”

“You sure?” Greg asked as he looked pointedly at Levi’s knee.

“It’s the least I can do. Besides, it won’t be too heavy after I disassemble it.” Or at least it wasn’t so heavy when Levi had carried it before. He turned to Mikasa. “Go ahead, enjoy the day,” Levi said, nodding his head reassuringly.

It didn’t take them much convincing. Greg was too excited and Mikasa started to seem eager as well to see the school.

And Levi wanted them to leave. Alone in the empty field with the equipment all set up, brought forth within him some unwanted feelings yet feelings which Levi wanted to process for himself one last time.

That’s your homework. Ride through the pain, the loss, the grief, the regret.

He was riding through it already and he was at least trying to find hope in that dreadful journey that left him almost desolate. Along the way, as he started to process the emotions, he fixated on the view of the bar, and maybe just a flicker of someone flying through the blue sky behind him. He soon stumbled upon one conclusion, one conclusion that Kuchel had suggested yet he had never really thought too much for himself until that moment.

At that moment, Levi let the emotions speak for him.

Regret is an emotion. Even if you say you don’t regret, even if you come out as the type not to regret, for sure you’ve regretted things right? It was a feeling you willingly chose to brush away. Kuchel had said then, as they had gone through her case study.

Levi had done his part to brush it away, to find something else to entertain him and to only hope that the emotions leave. But they never left. The aches that came with the view in front of him only proved it to him even before, and in that moment, it continued to prove it to him much faster and in more numerous ways than he could count.

So how do I stop feeling this?

You don’t. You can’t control how you feel. You can only control how you process it. The emotions leave when they want.

But when the time is right, you’ll be able to let it go...Before you know it, you’ll find closure.

Around that time, she had mentioned the word 'closure'. But closure had always been a vague word. It manifested as something different for everyone else. Levi soon realized as he started to move, it was a word that could never actually be contained to a black ink on white paper, or to spoken word.

For Levi, it had manifested at something he only sensed as something hazy. He thought he had control of his body then but along the way, it had felt like his body had assessed it for himself, the circumstances that he could only take advantage of at that moment.

He was alone in an empty field, the empty field he hadn’t visited in ages. The equipment was all set up for him. And if he closed his eyes then, allow himself to ignore the biting cold wind, the bare trees. If he just focused on the bar and the blue sky behind him, he could pretend it was summer again and before that, spring, and before that the last summer… Every single season—hell—every single day he had spent jumping over the bars.

His body was moving on its own, as if it understood the concept of closure before he did. He made his way to the clubroom.

I never did clean up after the injury. Levi thought to himself. His spare clothes, his spare pair of shoes and his face towel were all still in the locker, as they had been every time before. It was surprising, he had assumed someone would have cleaned it up.

He didn’t think too much of it though. There were other things he was raring to do. At that moment, he was just grateful nobody had half a mind to remind him, or he probably wouldn’t have been able to go through with his plans.

Levi put on his shoes, his right then his left. He changed to jogging pants and to the sweatshirt left in his locker. And for a second he did some test movements with it.

It was baggier than what he would have wanted, but he wasn’t in a competition, Levi could be as lenient as he wanted about it.

Beggars can’t be choosers. Levi thought to himself as he rolled up the jogger on his left leg and stared at the braced knee underneath. He could walk, he was sure. Yet just imagining himself removing the brace, left an unsettling feeling inside him.

He ended up pondering it for a while, a while longer than he was aware of. Soon enough, he decided on wearing it on the way back to the track, to just give his knee time to prepare.

On the way back, he passed by the equipment storage and he found himself thinking a lot harder about it. He looked back to the equipment in the field. Mikasa had mentioned setting it up. She had set up the pad underneath, but it had been an incomplete set up. Or so that was what Levi recalled.

There’s supposed to be a pad on top. Levi recalled. He opened the storage room to see the weather cover and the top pad, strewn on the side.

Lugging both the weather cover and the top pad would take two trips. Levi approximated. But did he have the time for two trips?

His coach was unpredictable. And just the idea of them coming back to catch him attempting such, was something Levi didn’t want to imagine then. So he folded up the weather cover and dragged the mat behind him, ignoring the uncomfortable twinge in his knee.

“Hey, you need help?”

Levi hadn’t expected anyone to be there. And of all people, Armin? “What are you doing here?”

“Mikasa told me she’s going out to dinner with your coach so she asked me to pick up her things from the club room…” Armin started. “I was here on campus already so…”

Levi softened his gaze, only realizing when Armin had trailed off quickly, avoiding his stare that he had probably been glaring. “You’re meeting Hange?” He asked, willing his voice to mellow.

“She’s been busy with thesis and I offered to help her out… So I’m picking up the stuff and will be meeting her soon after,” he explained. “But I arrived a bit early and I have some extra time." He offered his hand out to help.

Armin was extra hands. Extra hands meant time could go faster. And for sure, he could get Armin to hide his next set of plans.

“So, why are you bringing this to the field?” He asked, as they walked along the dirt path to the field.

Levi shrugged. “I guess I wanna try jumping one more time before I leave it for good.”

“But…”

Levi didn’t have to look at him to know what he wanted to suggest. “You’re thinking about my injury huh? It’ll be fine. I just wanna get a few jumps in.”

“It might be better to wait a few months?” Armin suggested.

“The team is training outside. The field is empty. The equipment is all set up and I’m graduating soon. When else but now?” Levi asked. Thinking back to it soon after he asked though, he could have waited a few months, maybe go back to school to just try it out one last time. But as they turned the corner and as the field opened up before him, Levi only had to look once again at the pale blue sky that stretched endlessly behind the field to be reminded, it ran deeper than that.

“You can wait a few months… I’m sure your coach---” Armin started, as if he had read his mind.

“When else, but now?” Levi pressed. The sky was starting to make its slow transition to purple, then. Orange and bright red were the next colors beyond that. And Levi started to see some of the steam, the colossal titans that marched forward slowly but surely. That one flicker in the sky though, caught his attention. She was concealed behind steam, and flashes of orange and bright red.

How much time did he have?

Armin took a deep breath. “This might sound weird. I’m probably the last person you wanna get advice from… I’m younger than you… and we just met… But Hange probably just rubbed off on me but you know, I guess I’m worried. I heard about your injury months ago, before we even met, Mikasa told me… It was in the rumor mill of the high jump community.”

So what?

“It must have been devastating huh? To lose something like that... Something that has been a constant in your life for five years even ten years…”

Devastating. Was that the right word?

“You must have regretted a lot…”

Did I let myself regret it? He willed himself not to regret then. It was a conscious decision to let the emotions flow free. Soon he had to admit— albeit uncomfortably— he regretted it.

“Then I thought of Mikasa. I actually talked to her about this, about Eren. And you know I was able to convince her that there is a life beyond Eren.”

“So let me predict, you wanna say there’s life beyond jumping?” Life beyond Hange?

Armin nodded. “I know it sounds generic. You probably heard it a million times before but… That was what Hange told us when you left…”

Levi didn’t have to listen to Armin quote it to hear it in her voice.

But… You understand, don’t you? Everyone you meet will be parted from you one day. I know it’s difficult to accept. It’s hard to stay sane, living like that. It’s painful. So painful. I know that.

But even so… We need to move forward…

Armin continued. “Move forward… because the world was wider than Eren. And I guess in your case, the world is wider than jumping. Now that I think about it, maybe you and Mikasa were facing similar things.”

It’s hard to stay sane, living like that. It’s painful. So painful. But we need to keep moving forward.

“Keep moving forward… But that’s what I did,” Levi said.

“But when Mikasa brought up the injury, I noticed it and i saw it still hurt you a lot— I’m sorry if I’m just making wild guesses here. I might be wrong.”

“What else did Hange say?” Levi asked. “After ‘keep moving forward?”

It was easy for Levi to imagine her saying that.

There is liberation in riding the pain through, accepting it will happen and just believing you can get past it.

There is liberation in everything. It’s just a matter of believing that happiness will come again.

“I reflected on it too, with Mikasa…” Armin added as they settled on the lowermost bleachers, closest to the bar. “And I thought of something… What if, the reason it’s so painful is because a part of us dies when we lose something. If Mikasa decides to leave Eren, part of her will die, the part of her that clung to him, her childhood, being with him everyday. They might just fade into distant memories the moment she decides to go to university. But there’s a life beyond him. And exchange for whatever part dies with her, her world widens..."

Levi nodded, glancing subtly at the view of the horizontal bar, the sky was shifting to a bright red behind it.

“Something inside her will be reborn. Maybe like reincarnation? There’s our college life waiting after high school, then our work life after that our family life, then retirement then maybe even other lives after that… Maybe even after we die... There's another life waiting for us.”

Levi shrugged. “You might be right,” he said. There was nothing much else to say. He stood up again and approached the landing pad, dragging that extra pad behind him.

“That’s it. After jumping, after whatever we’re doing now, we’re gonna graduate, move on to our next life. Then we just trust that things will get better, we encounter new things, new people to keep us going. We’ll find something else to keep us going.”

Then an old part of us dies and we’re reincarnated as a new person. That was the last sentence, Levi remembered Armin saying, or so that was the message he remembered.

He couldn’t be too sure about Armin’s exact words. Armin didn’t follow behind him either and his voice started to fade into the background.

Even before Armin’s words could whittle into nothing though, the orange sky started to scream at him, the horizontal bar, only nearer, started to goad him in. “That’s why I wanna enter that new life with no regrets,” Levi said.

Eventually Armin gave up.

Or Levi might just have gotten better at ignoring protests. He got better at creating that world, that consisted of just him, the field, the horizontal bar and the sky. The sky that was still a bright orange, the last flash of light before night blankets it. He didn’t have much time.

So Levi gave up on putting the pad on top. He gave up on the weather cover. He unwrapped his brace and threw it towards the side of the field..

Just one jump. The inhibitor within him promised. It sent a buckle through his knee and a light twinge of pain. It could have been stronger than a twinge, but Levi refused to feel it..

There’s just one thing I need to do for myself and I’ll close this part of my life for good.

Captain Levi never regretted. Or so that was what he had willed himself to do before. But everybody would regret even at least once in their life. Levi was part of that everyone and he had kept his own regret mum inside him. It festered into a wound, then to a scab and eventually it grew to shackles that kept him from moving freely, from moving on.

Ride the pain, the loss, the grief.

So he let the shackles do their work, he let the weight slow him down as he walked towards the starting line.

For a few seconds more, he found himself having to catch his breath as the sun made its way down from the horizon. It glowed a bright red, and along the way it released flashes of orange and yellow.

Soon enough, it was just him and the sky. Then him, the sky and someone else.

“Commander Hange Zoe,” he muttered quietly, yet still loud enough to hear it himself. That word, that name, only made that flicker up in the sky a little more lucid.

The silhouette that flew up in the mountains. The silhouette that flew past the buildings and up at the colossal titans.

That silhouette that burned into nothing up in the sky.

The rustle of the leaves, the biting cold and the distant footsteps though still threatened to pull him out of that world he created for himself. With the sun starting to disappear before the horizon, before the bright red--- the flames--- burned through the flicker. Before the flicker fell to the ground and burned out, Levi knew he would have to move.

Why don’t you want to jump? Levi asked himself. His knees were still buckling. The footsteps were still moving. He could get caught soon if he didn’t do it then.

When else will I be able to do this? Levi pressed, an attempt to push his body forward. His body was starting to disobey, or at least the scabbed knee, his joints, the remnants of bruises in his neck from each painful fall that led up to his injury. The biting cold and the pain at his throat from breathing the dry winter air made him even doubt his ability to run.

Certainly, he was in no shape to jump. But he wasn’t giving up just yet.

Eventually, he did find the right question, the one that had him recalling, then feeling everything at once. And it got his body moving.

Why did you start jumping?

I had dreams. I dreamt I could fly and when I jumped, there was this sense of nostalgia…

Letting himself name the emotions for what they were, he soon realized, the comfort that came with jumping wasn’t borne of nostalgia. It was borne of regret.

Captain Levi had one regret which he never entertained. One regret that ran so deep it could never be summarized with a single question.

Should I have stopped her?

Should I have run after her?

Should I have fought with her?

Back then, he never did go after her. so he never found answers. But in that split second flying feet up in the air with just the view of the blue sky above him, he always found hints to it.

So he continued to jump, higher and higher.

You won’t find the answer, no matter how high you jump. Something inside him nagged.

But I wanna leave this part of my life with no regrets. “I wanted to save you,” Levi said. It was only himself who could have spoken or heard him. So maybe he had said it a little louder, he couldn’t tell.

The flicker in the sky started to burn and like the many times he had envisioned that scene, he expected it to fall over soon. He was certain of that.

I should have tried to save you.

Trying never guaranteed success. But trying always had that special ability of just cushioning a fall, protecting against the impact of regret that followed.

And maybe that was the right thing to do. That alone had been enough to send a burst of energy through him, to bring back the muscle memory that got him succeeding at each height, winning competition after competition.

He wanted to fly. So he ran, like he had done many times before. He let his steps bounce, ignoring the pain in his knee.

The horizontal bar was nothing but a convenient silhouette, a guide towards his actual goal.

If I tried to save you, would things have ended up different?

Commander Hange Zoe was the source of energy that got him bouncing on that knee. It got him ignoring that white flashes of pain that followed. She was up there in the sky, fighting the colossal titans and Levi was determined to fly after her.

He positioned himself to jump in that split second, like he had done many times before. As his body turned to his side though, he saw another Hange Zoe.

She wasn’t a flicker nor a silhouette though She was clearly there, chestnut brown hair, bright eyes, like she had been in every single one of the competitions. He needed a split second more to process her. He was pressed for time though so he opted to look straight ahead, to focus on the jump.

“Levi!”

Levi was already up in the air when he heard her call out, when reality gripped at him and attempted to pull him back. Suspended up in the air, floating, it had been easier to pull away.

That was his last jump, his last attempt to save Commander Hange Zoe and he would see it through

There were things though people can will with all their minds, yet their body would still choose to disobey. If the body hadn’t been such a limiting factor, maybe everyone would have been an Olympic athlete.

Levi only had that crushing lesson on reality, hit him hard when he landed painfully on pad, the bar underneath him.

The flicker that he could have sworn was Hange faded into the sky. Or maybe it had fallen over too quickly, in the few moments it took Levi to blink.

The sky shifted into a deep blue. It would shift to a darker blue, then soon, the sky would be painted black. It took the flicker in the sky that had been Hange and soon it would be taking his surroundings with it.

Right after taking her? He would have wanted to ask. He had learned it before already, reality was cruel. There was no use bargaining with it.

It was starting to get cold. The heat in that moment as he made the jump and the heat of the fiery death he had witnessed, waged war with the winter chill that was starting to eat at him too.

Too many discomforts to process at once and in that second, Levi was almost grateful for the desolation, the disappointment that was also nagging at him then.

So he gave it some traction and soon, some place in reality. “I’m sorry, I can’t fly anymore,” he whispered. Those words should have been between him and whatever flicker had disappeared in the sky.

There had been an intruder though and Levi was slow to notice it. “Levi! What were you thinking?” she asked.

Gentle hands ran through him. Familiar hands pressed at his knees, at his arms. “Just thought I’d try it one last time.” Levi answered as he turned to the voice.

Hange’s face softened as they made eye contact. “Levi… you know the momentum comes from the run… With your injury, you wouldn’t have been able to even jump heights less than two meters..”

“I wanted to. Just one last time.”

Her hazel eyes were on him again, and they could have been glistening, illuminated by the already dim light as the winter sun shone with its last few rays.

“You don’t need to...” She helped him into a sitting position and Levi followed suit, surprised out how his body was still obeying him

Need to what? He hoped to seek clarity in the seconds that followed. Shaken for sure by those bursts of movement, the pain that came and the pain he had expected to come, he found himself unable to speak.

But it turned out, he didn't need to. He couldn't speak so Hange spoke for him. “If you don’t want me to, I won't leave you,” she said.

A minute ago, it had been hot. A few seconds ago it had been chilly. When she wrapped her arms around him though, the war between hot and cold ended with a comfortable compromise. Her tight embrace was lukewarm. “I’m right here… And I'll be right here for as long as you want me to be."

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 4 years ago

Note

I hope you don't mind me bombarding your inbox with requests, but how about some Bdubs and Etho? Maybe some Shade-E-E's new employee training?

Thank u so much for this <3 I strayed slightly off prompt but I know you won’t mind :)

Also you are SO welcome to bombard my inbox with requests any time :D

...

One afternoon, Etho is checking his profits at Shade-E-E’s like normal when he hears the door slide open. Glancing over, he spots Bdubs walking into the room, looking rather grumpy.

“Hey, Bdubs,” Etho says cheerily. “How’s it going?”

“I got stung by a bee and nearly killed by endermites,” Bdubs replies bluntly. “Why couldn’t you have sent me to do free glass instead?”

“Because everyone already has enough free glass. What people need right now is a lovely gardening service.”

“But you always say there’s no such thing as “enough” free glass,” says Bdubs innocently.

Etho considers this for a moment. “That’s true, I do say that. Okay, why don’t you take out some free glass next. But first, have you had your break?”

“Not yet.”

“Do that now, then. You can take out some free glass after that.”

Bdubs beams. “Thanks, boss.”

“No problem.”

Relieved that his friend has stopped calling him his “delivery boy”, Bdubs heads over to the back of the shop and sits down on the chair.

Less than a minute later, a message comes up on their communicators.

Docm77 was slain by Tactical Tickle

Etho snickers. “You put endermites in Doc’s base?”

“Yup.” Bdubs grins, clearly pleased with himself. “His name was in the Refer A Friend chest so I spawned them in his bedroom.”

“I’m so proud of you, buddy. Anyway, I’m just gonna step into my office for a sec to count profits. Call me if you need me.”

“Will do.”

Bdubs relaxes in his chair in the shop on his own, proud of the work he’s doing. He’s being paid to bamboozle people AND he gets to spend more time with his best friend. To him, it’s a win-win situation.

A few minutes after Etho leaves, the door slides open again and Doc himself storms into the room. Bdubs jumps up from his chair, a nervous expression on his face, and pushes out both his hands, stopping Doc from coming any closer.

“H-Hey Doc!” he says nervously. “L-Let’s just talk about this…!”

“You put those stupid endermites in my bedroom!” Doc thunders. “After they killed me, I was trying to pick up my stuff and a creeper blew up the redstone I’d been working on all day! This is all your fault!”

Bdubs’s heart skips a beat. He’s known Doc for years; he knows his friend is going to kill him, or at the very least hurt him.

“Doc, I’m sorry, I-!”

He breaks off with a cry as Doc lashes out.

But instead of the punch to the face he’s expecting, he feels himself get pushed backwards, causing him to trip over his foot and tumble to the floor. When he looks up, he finds Etho standing in front of him, facing off against Doc, sword in hand.

“Doc, I need you to leave.” Etho sounds steady and stern, but Bdubs has known him for long enough that he can detect a slight hint of pain in his voice.

“Your employee caused me a death AND-!”

“Listen, I run this business,” Etho interrupts. “The buck stops with me. And I’m sorry about what happened, but there’s no call for violence. Please leave until you calm down, and THEN we can talk about it. But you don’t get to come into my place of business and assault one of my employees. Now LEAVE.”

Doc’s narrowed eyes flicker from Etho to Bdubs, who gulps. He isn’t sure if Etho can beat Doc in a fight if it comes down to it.

But thankfully, after a moment, Doc backs down and leaves.

Dropping his sword, Etho turns to Bdubs and offers him his hand, but Bdubs freezes as he takes in his best friend’s face. “Oh my god, Etho…!”

The skin around Etho’s right eye is bruised and swollen, and his eye is red and half-closed as a result. He gives a thin smile. “It’s okay, don’t worry.”

Bdubs hesitantly lets Etho help him up. He winces as he gazes at his best friend’s swollen eye. “I’m so sorry, Etho…!”

Etho shakes his head firmly, gingerly touching his eye. “It’s not your fault, Bdubs. Are you okay?”

“Me?! I’m fine. Are you sure you are?”

Etho hesitates, wrestling with whether to tell his best friend the truth or not.

Finally, he says, “I can’t see.”

Bdubs stares at him. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve always had vision problems in my left eye. And now I can’t see properly out of my right eye either.” His voice shakes, finally betraying his fear. “I can’t even see you properly and you’re right in front of me. All I can see of you is a fuzzy outline.”

“Oh, man…” Bdubs hesitates, grimacing sympathetically. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

Etho shakes his head. “No no, I can do it myself. You can take the rest of the day off if you like. I’ll be in my office.”

Bdubs watches his friend very slowly walk towards the entrance to his office, almost bumping into one of the chests as he did. “Okay, okay, hang on a sec. Wait. Stop moving.”

Etho pauses as Bdubs comes up next to him and lifts Etho’s arm over his shoulder. “Come here, I’ll get you down to your office.”

“R-Really? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, cuz without me, you’re definitely gonna fall down the ladder and break your neck.”

Bdubs guides Etho to the entrance to his office and then down the ladder, constantly talking to his best friend to make sure he doesn’t miss a step or a handhold. When they get to the bottom, Bdubs leads his friend to the sofa set up in the corner and lies him down.

“Here, I’ve got an ice pack.” Bdubs takes out a piece of ice from his inventory and wraps it in his headband, before pressing it gently against Etho’s eye.

Etho lets out a quiet hiss, before relaxing as the pain is relieved. “Ahh. I’m so glad Doc decided not to fight me, cuz he would definitely have kicked my ass. I can only just hold my own against him with ONE working eye.”

Bdubs watches him awkwardly. “So...um… How long have you had vision impairment in your eye?”

“Left or right?”

“You know exactly which one I mean.”

Etho clears his throat. “Since I got the scar.”

“I see…” Bdubs hesitates, wondering whether to ask further. “How… um… How did it happen?”

“I’m sorry, Bdubs, but that’s not a story I’m ready to tell yet.”

Bdubs sits back, nodding. “Yeah, I thought not. Don’t worry, I totally understand. But if you ever want to talk about it, or anything else for that matter, I’m always ready to listen.”

Etho gives his best friend a grateful smile. “Thanks, Bdubs. I appreciate that.”

“Hey, I should be the one thanking you,” Bdubs responds. “You saved me from a nasty punch.”

“Bosses always protect their employees.”

Bdubs scoffs. “Uh huh, yeah.”

“Well…” Etho chuckles. “While that IS the truth, I honestly didn’t even have to think about it. The instinct to protect you got burned into my code years ago.”

“Ah…” Bdubs pauses, trying not to show his friend how emotional that one sentence has made him. “Well, uh… Th-Thanks. That means a lot. Anyway, you… you’d better rest your eye for a bit. I’ll keep sorting through the subscriptions upstairs; call me if you need me.”

“You don’t have to do that,” says Etho softly. “I don’t mind if you call it a day and head home.”

Bdubs shakes his head. “No way, I’ve got work to do. Besides, if I leave now, you’ll eventually get hungry and go looking for food on your own and inevitably get your ass kicked by that ladder.”

Etho can’t help a laugh. “Your opinion of me is incredible.”

“My opinion of you is extremely high. I just know you’re enough of a derp to try climbing up a twenty-block ladder half-blind and we both know how that’s gonna go.”

“Okay, yeah, I can’t really argue with that.” Etho smiles. “Thanks, Bdubs.”

Bdubs pauses at the ladder and looks back at his best friend. Etho is always so strong and capable, even if he can be a bit of a moron at times. But this incident has reminded Bdubs that everyone has weaknesses, and that’s okay. He’ll always be there for Etho and Etho will always be there for him, no matter what.

So he smiles. “Thank you too.”

#hermitcraft #bdoubleo100 #bdubs #etho #ethoslab #shade-e-e’s #Vaunna writes

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twdmusicboxmystery · 3 years ago

Text

Beth’s Memory Loss Arc, Part 1

Okay, gonna take a crack at this. I started thinking about this because I have an Ask in my inbox about what we think will happen with all the memory loss stuff. (I was totally going to post it at the beginning of this theory, but I somehow accidentally deleted it. Sorry Nonny. But this is me answering it in long form. ;D)

Meanwhile, my fellow theorists and I had talked the idea of Beth having memory loss recently. I started just going through it in my head—how to lay it out, etc.—and it started sparking other thoughts.

Okay, so I started thinking about all the “remember” or “memory” stuff around Beth. We have a lot of indications, mostly through dialogue, of there being a memory arc for Beth. There’s the “I forgot about you” from Inmates,

them asking if she remembered her name at Grady, etc.

But the one I sort of homed in on was one someone mentioned a few days ago from the fight in Still. In talking (yelling) to Daryl about Sophia, she said, “I remember.” I kept thinking about that, going back to it, etc. Something about it was bugging me, but I didn’t immediately know what.

So instead, I first focused on what my fellow theorists and I talked about from the 10x21 template. Remember that in that episode, Carol chases a rat around the kitchen. We have a theory that Carol chasing rat = Carol “chasing” Beth and memory loss might play into that.

I’ve said a lot of this before, I think Daryl will probably hear something of Rick and come to believe he’s alive, but no one else will hear it. He’ll announce that he’s going to find Rick and Carol will go with him. Not because she believes Rick is alive, but because much like the beginning of FM, she’s worried about his mental state and him losing his reality again. (This will especially be true if by then, Leah has been shown to be a hallucination, or that Daryl is remembering his interactions with her incorrectly.)

So, Daryl and Carol hop on the bike and they go. At some point, Carol will want to leave. I haven’t worked out exactly why, yet. Originally, I thought maybe it would that Zeke will have had his fake out and she’ll find out he’s alive, but based on the ep 21 template, I actually don’t think she’ll know that, yet. She and Jerry talk about wishing Zeke were there with them, so I think at this point, she’ll still think Zeke has died.

Whatever the reason, she’ll want to go to some other place, but she’ll want Daryl to come with her. I think it will be a lot like their final meeting in FM with her begging him to come “back” with her and him saying, “nope. Look, you aren’t going to lose me. I just got stuff to do.” In this case, it’ll be “nope. I’m looking for Rick. Later, Carol.”

And they’ll separate, which is what Divergent was all about and a major foreshadow of.

So then, wherever Carol goes, she’ll run into Beth (Rat). We think that maybe the reason for Carol chasing Rat around is because she’ll be chasing Beth around, because Beth has no memory, or only shotty memory, of her. As I talked about in the Charleston template, Beth will be busy trying to get her own people back and probably won’t give Carol the time of day. (It also occurs to me that if Beth STARTS to remember things, she may run from them, simply out of fear of what she’ll find out. But that’s the novelist in me coming out.)

But what I really want to focus on is what happens at the end of ep 21. Remember how I kept harping on how Carol and Jerry’s reaction to Rat scurrying between them was weird? Yeah, I maintain that. I get that people can be frightened of rats and such. If they were going for that with Jerry, I would have rather seen him jump up in the air and squeal. Just cuz it would have been funnier. But his reaction didn’t say frightened to me. More like…in awe. He actually said, “Is that…?”

And Carol said, “Yeah.” And she seemed full of joy and awe as well.

Is that…what? A rat? Um…duh? Their reactions just make no sense to me. Jerry says that almost as though he recognizes the rat. As though it’s a celebrity rat he’s seeing at Sundance or something.

My point is, I think it’s purposeful and it’s functioning as a foreshadow and a template for what’s to come. I think Rat escaping represents Beth getting her memory back.

So, maybe it’ll be something like Carol doing everything she can—telling her stories, reminding her of places, conversations, people, telling her Maggie still lives, etc.—to get Beth to remember, but, at least as far as she knows, it’s not working, and Beth is still “hiding” from her. The thing about Rat is that after trying all night to chase him out, once Carol accepted things and stopped trying so hard, the rat got out on its own. I’m wondering if that represents that after all that, Beth will just sort of remember on her own. The memory will come back.

Let me interject something about Zeke, because it’s another possible interpretation here. I said I didn’t think Carol would know about Zeke being alive yet, and that’s mostly because of the convo her and Jerry have at the end. They specifically talk about missing Ezekiel and wishing he were there with them. That tells me that when we see the events this foreshadows, they will believe he’s dead, or at least missing.

So, their strange reaction to the rat COULD represent Zeke showing up alive as well. Jerry saying, “is that…?” with wonder and joy could point to that. But does it? Meh. I don’t know. I don’t think Rat represents Zeke for most of this episode. So I think it’s more likely to be Beth. But I would LOVE it if Zeke returned just as Beth got her memory back, and we had a two-fer. I don’t know that the writers would be quite that generous, but we can hope, right?

To take it a step further (into the “what changed your mind” template), I think that at some point after that, Carol will “call” Daryl to tell him about Beth. Probably on a radio or walkie, which will fulfill a lot of the symbolism we’ve seen around that. This, I think, is what their final meeting in Find Me foreshadows. That he just won’t believe her. Maybe he’ll think she’s being cruel because she wants him to stop looking for what she considers a phantom of Rick. He’ll refuse.

But notice that in FM, when he suddenly changes his mind, he doesn’t go to Carol. He goes back to Leah, and it’s to a different place than where Carol is. I was also thinking about the fact that the rat leaves Carol. It’s not like they made friends and she took it as a pet, and it hung out in the house with her. It takes off on its own. So, I think even though Beth and Carol will find each other, they’ll separate again after that. But maybe Carol knows where Beth is and when she talks to Daryl, she tells him to go find Beth. Hence, in FM, when he suddenly “changes his mind,” he goes to where he thinks Leah will be.

The point is, once Beth gets her memory back, it’ll just be a matter of time before she and Daryl reunite. (Yea!)

But then there’s that pesky “I remember” from Still, right? I DEFINITELY have some stuff to say about what that one might mean. But I’ll talk about that tomorrow. Stay tuned.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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littlespoonevan · 4 years ago

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okay this took me forever bc i could not for the life of me think of a tattoo to cover up ian’s that was actually like. nice but also relevant to monica (bc despite my feelings about her i don’t want to take that sentiment away). i’m happy with the one i chose though so hopefully you like it too <33

(quick reminder: i’m not accepting anymore prompts at the moment while i work on the ones in my inbox <3)

Ian is standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom brushing his hair back out of his face with a comb when he hears the water cut off in the shower. A moment later he’s on the receiving end of a damp side hug as Mickey winds the hand not holding up his towel around Ian’s waist to balance himself while he leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Mm hey,” Mickey greets warmly and Ian pauses in his ministrations to smile at him in the mirror.

Dropping his comb, he turns and settles his hands on Mickey’s shoulders, absently massaging the divot of space beneath Mickey’s collarbones with his thumbs. “Hey. You doin’ anything today?”

He knows Mickey has the day off and days off for Mickey – especially rare weekday ones – usually result in him not surfacing from bed until at least 11:00 before he has a late breakfast and parks himself on the couch for the rest of the day. But today he’s already up and showered and it’s not even 10am. The way Mickey ducks his head when he asks the question also suggests he does have something on.

Which is a little weird – if only because Ian also has the day off since he’s changing rotation from days to nights this week.

“I, uh, I’ve got an appointment in a couple hours,” Mickey says evasively and Ian frowns.

Mickey only ever talks like this when his dad’s involved and Ian will shoot Terry himself if he’s after getting Mickey caught up in his shit again. “What kind of appointment?” he asks, not sure if he really wants to hear the answer.

Mickey must be able to tell where Ian’s mind goes though because he looks up and rolls his eyes. “A real appointment, dumbass,” he says. “At a tattoo parlour.”

Ian instantly feels himself relax and lets go of Mickey to put his comb back in the medicine cabinet next to his morning meds. “You getting a new tattoo?”

Mickey doesn’t answer right away and when he does the words are mumbled at a barely audible volume. “Fixing one actually.”

Ian pauses, turning around to face Mickey again. Mickey’s busying himself with tightening the towel around his waist, pointedly not looking in Ian’s direction. Ian takes the time to let his eyes drop to the tattoo sitting on Mickey’s chest before he steps forward again, brushing his fingers over Mickey’s forearm and coaxing his arms away from his torso. “Mick.”

Mickey looks up at him, letting Ian pull his arms around his waist and releasing a sigh that comes out more resigned than bashful. “Guess I figured since you’re stickin’ around I should probably make it look the way it’s supposed to.”

Ian smiles even though his heart squeezes a little painfully in his chest. He hates that he ever made Mickey doubt the fact he would stay. He reaches up, running the fingers of his left hand over his name. He does it on purpose so Mickey will see the wedding ring and remember. This is forever now. “Can I come with you?” he asks, looking up from Mickey’s chest to meet his gaze.

“Why?” Mickey says, shrugging like he doesn’t care but Ian can tell he probably does. “The guy said it shouldn’t take that long.”

“Well, if we’re in a fixing tattoos kinda mood maybe I should do something about the one on my back.”

Mickey’s face twists into a familiar grimace at the mention of the obnoxious boobs on Ian’s shoulder before going slack with surprise. “You’re gonna cover it up?”

It’s Ian’s turn to shrug. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I mean, I know Monica’d probably find it hilarious but it’s ugly as shit.”

Mickey snorts at that, a sort of no arguments from me, pal!

“And I’ve finally got enough money put away to afford to get something big enough to cover it. I could call and see if they can fit me in too?”

Mickey considers him for a moment before his mouth ticks up at the corners and his hands squeeze Ian’s hips. “Guess we got a date, Gallagher.”

They’re led into separate rooms when they get there. Mickey had already had a consultation but Ian hadn’t, not to mention the fact Ian’s is a significantly longer job than Mickey’s. He likes the idea he came up with though.

He’d started thinking about cover ups almost from the minute he’d gotten the tattoo but not only had it been too expensive, he’d also had no fucking idea what to get. He still wants it to be something for her because no matter how fucked up things got and no matter what she’s done, he still misses her. But as time passed the more he’d started to think maybe he wanted it to mean a little more than that too.

In the end he’d settled on something that he thought fit for both of them.

He’s had a general picture of what he’s wanted for a while now and when he shows it to the tattoo artist – Benny, his nametag says – he sketches a couple of his own mock-ups for Ian to choose from. It’s gonna take a couple of hours so he texts Mickey while Benny is prepping his shoulder and tells him he doesn’t need to hang around for him if he doesn’t want to.

Mickey texts him back a succinct, “Whatever, Gallagher,” and that’s the end of that until Mickey texts him again approximately forty-five minutes later, saying, “I’m gonna go get lunch, want me to bring you back something?”

Ian buries his smile against his arm where he’s got it braced in front of him in the chair and tries to remain completely still as he texts back.

Ian: My usual. Thank you <3

Mickey: Whatever

Mickey: <3

Mickey takes his time, obviously choosing to eat his own lunch at the mall and kill some time so Ian’ll be almost done by the time he comes back to the tattoo parlour. Ian hears the bell jangle above the door in the main room about five minutes before Benny finally sits back and says, “Okay, you’re all set.”

Ian relaxes in the chair before he remembers he hasn’t seen it yet. He extricates himself from the awkward position he’d been in for the past few hours and makes his way to mirror in the corner of the room, turning around and craning his neck. He catches sight of the corner of it before Benny appears next to him with a handheld mirror so he can get a better look.

It’s perfect.

Sure enough, Mickey’s waiting for him when he comes onto the main shop floor, lunch in hand, and Ian flashes him an affectionate smile before he goes up to the counter to pay.

Other than Mickey asking him again what he got and Ian telling him he’ll show him when they get home they don’t talk about their tattoos on the way home. Not that Ian can really think of much else – he’d been so anxious about covering up his own tattoo, he’d forgotten why they’d even come here in the first place. What Mickey did.

It’s a lot to process – the level of devotion that tattoo shows.

It’d felt like someone had taken a knife to Ian’s own chest when he’d first seen it. Like a giant declaration of all the ways Ian had fucked Mickey up. Now though, now Ian feels it for what it is. Unconditional love.

By some unspoken agreement they both head straight up the stairs when they get back to the house, following each other into the bedroom and closing the door behind them. When they’re stood face to face beside the bed Ian finally opens his mouth to speak.

“You first,” he requests quietly, the moment feeling oddly intimate as Mickey glances down, shrugging off his jacket before reaching for his t-shirt.

Ian watches with rapt attention as he pulls his shirt over his head, eyes zeroing in on Mickey’s chest as soon as he lets his arms fall back to his sides again. There’s tape over it but Ian can still see it clear as day. He lets out a breath and steps closer, fingers hovering above the letters. The extra “l” fits in seamlessly and other than the “h” being a little on the small side in order to make it fit, you’d never know it wasn’t there in the first place.

Ian looks up to find Mickey staring off to the side, a faint splotch of colour on his cheeks, and Ian bites down on a smile, carefully turning Mickey’s chin back towards him. “I love you,” he says softly, darting in to steal a kiss. It’s enough to make Mickey relax and lean into him, which is all Ian had wanted really.

“Alright, your turn,” Mickey says when he pulls back. “Enough with the secrecy bullshit.”

Ian huffs a laugh but obligingly steps back and pulls on the hem of his t-shirt. Once he gets it over his head he tosses it on the bed and turns around, feeling oddly nervous for Mickey’s reaction.

Mickey doesn’t say anything right away but after a beat Ian feels the gentle pressure of Mickey’s fingertips right around the outline of the tape and he knows what Mickey sees. A compass with a rope intricately woven around it.

“I wanted something for Monica but I wanted it to be for me too,” Ian explains, unprompted. He turns to face Mickey again and finds him watching him carefully, like he’s trying to work something out.

“I felt really fucking lost for a long time after everything that happened,” he continues quietly. It’s hard to look Mickey in the eye but he forces himself to anyway. “And I know I kinda have a habit of running away from my problems but…I always want to come home. To my family. To you.”

Mickey’s throat bobs at the last part, hands twitching for a moment at his sides before they reach up to land on Ian’s shoulders. “What’s it got to do with your mom?”

Ian gives him a half-hearted smile. “I looked it up; Monica means advisor.” He lets out bemused laugh, shaking his head. “She’s- She didn’t give me good advice,” he says seriously because if nothing else he wants to remind Mickey that he knows Monica played some role in their relationship ending all those years ago. “I know that now but- she did show me what I didn’t want my life to become.”

Mickey nods, expression softening like he understands.

“And…she was lost too,” Ian adds, blowing out a breath. “I don’t think she ever had anyone like you to remind her she had something worth coming back to.”

Mickey stares at him for a moment, a myriad of expressions flickering across his face before he cups Ian’s cheek. “She could’ve come back for you,” he says solemnly and Ian smiles, covering Mickey’s hand with his own.

“I know,” he murmurs. “We were never enough to make her stay though.” Ian presses his forehead against Mickey’s. “You make me want to stay.”

Mickey doesn’t say anything to that, just draws him into a kiss filled with surety and love. Ian wraps his arms around him and kisses back, pouring everything he has into it. Because really, in a lot of ways, Mickey should probably be the one with the compass tattoo considering all the times he’s managed to make his way back to Ian right when he’d needed him.

But he likes it. The past couple of years he feels like he’s found himself again. And in doing that he found Mickey again.

And he’s never, ever letting him go.

#gallavich #ian x mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless #my fics #sorry if this is bad i'm a lil rusty at the moment #also if they seem more overly touchy than normal it's bc i've been watching too much schitt's creek lmao

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bruh-haikyuu · 5 years ago

Note

Hello! May I request a sfw scenario where Asahi has to unexpectedly share a bed with his crush for the first time? Thank you so much!

A/N: God I read like 5 shoujo manga and a doujin to fuel myself for this. I hope you enjoy, anon!

contretemps. | azumane asahi

word count: 1758

warnings: none

(n.) an unexpected and unfortunate occurrence

Asahi wanted to bash his head against the wall. Committing seppuku just won’t cut for it—he wanted to make sure he died from the inside out, writhing in all sorts of pain.

It was super embarrassing.

It was his fault that you two had to miss the shinkansen back to Miyagi. He just had to leave his ticket in the restaurant. And you just had to help him run back to the place to retrieve it.

“Don’t worry about it, Azumane-san. It’s my duty as the class rep to help you, after all,” you had told him repeatedly, a smile gracing your features.

It wasn’t very assuring. In fact, it didn’t help Asahi calm down at all. You could’ve been in the train with everyone else by now, asleep and with all your other friends. But here you were on the phone with your homeroom teacher, explaining the situation to her in a calm demeanor that made Asahi’s forehead bead with sweat.

How could you be so calm? You were two high school students stuck in Osaka, a long way away from home. And one of you looked like a criminal who was about to pull some kind of weapon out of his pocket and shoot everyone dead.

Asahi really just wanted to vanish.

It did help a bit to think that at least he was stuck with you. If it had been Hattori-san or Aoi instead, Asahi would have to live the rest of his life in eternal shame. He considered himself lucky, but you probably felt unfortunate with him around…

Asahi glanced at you a tenth time from where he was waiting, your ears still pressed to the receptionist’s phone, in deep conversation with your teachers.

You seemed much more reliable than he did. More mature. More responsible. Geez, were you two really the same age?

“Azumane-san?”

Asahi looked up to see you smiling at him at close proximity. “A-ah, L/N-san. You’re done?”

“Yeah. I called the teachers and my parents. All our overnight expenses will be covered by the school but the ticket for the train tomorrow will be on us. Did you inform your family yet?”

“Y-yeah…”

“You got scolded too, huh?”

Asahi’s bit the insides of his cheek, the voice of his mother’s nagging echoing in his head. “…Yeah.”

And you laughed. Laughed a bubbly laugh that made butterflies erupt from the furthest pit of Asahi’s stomach. He sighed, he was never going to survive a night with you.

“Sorry again for putting you through this. I really am the worst person you could’ve gotten stuck with…”

“That’s alright. I’m class rep, right? I gotta take care of my classmates!”

God, your smile was perfect. “What about the lodgings? Did we manage to get a room?”

He saw you flinch, a light pink dusting your cheeks. “Well… I did manage to get the last room they had, but…”

When your lips formed the last words of your sentence, Asahi felt the entire world fall apart, build itself back together, rinse and repeat. This was straight out of his younger cousins’ mangas. But he seemed so far off from a shoujo protagonist. So, so far.

“And so, we’ll be sharing a single bed room. Is that alright with you?”

His heart was beating out of his chest. Someone had to pick it up before it exploded like an anticipating time bomb, but Asahi was way too stunned to breathe. Exploding heart to hell, everything about the situation screamed Asahi, you pervert! He really wished he had held onto his ticket tighter.

“I-I was the one who caused this entire mishap, so… I should be the one asking that to you.”

“I don’t mind,” you shrugged.

“I see… then please, allow me to accommodate the sofa in our room tonight.”

You furrowed your brows indignantly.

“No, no, no! I’ll sleep on the sofa, you can have the bed, Azumane-san.”

“I insist. This entire thing was my fault.”

“Geez, I’m the class rep. For me, it’s my classmates first.”

“If you keep saying that about yourself, it’ll come back to bite you in the end… is what my grandmother told me.”

“Like I said, I’m taking the sofa!”

“No, I am!”

It was exhausting, but Asahi would rather eat cement than make you sleep on a rock-hard couch. Your endless exchange went on for a while until—

“E-excuse me?” you turned around to see the petite receptionist flash you an awkward smile.

“Please refrain from making a ruckus in the lobby.”

The both of you bowed with speed, effectively knocking your heads together, causing a few giggles to erupt amongst the hotel guests.

Man, Asahi thought, this is the worst.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

In the end, Asahi had won against you in the sofa argument, virtually prompting to have the single bed all to yourself. It was the first time that night that Asahi had felt victorious.

Daichi was already spamming his inbox with a three message-long lecture—Asahi supposed there wasn’t any way that he could join volleyball practice tomorrow with the current circumstances. A scolding from his parents, the teachers, the principal when he gets back and most likely your parents too. He kind of deserved it.

But the entire time, you didn’t looked annoyed at all. In fact, you completely indulged in the situation. His experience with his friends being that if this had occurred to them instead of you, he’d be left out on the balcony to be eaten by crows. Curiosity flooded him to the brim—you were certainly an interesting person.

Hanging the hotel towel on the railings in the bathroom, you returned to the central space where Asahi was already adjusting to a comfortable position on the leather sofa. With your hair down, droplets of water crowning your head, you looked like an entirely different person but yet you still had the same halo of an angel around you.

Asahi thanked Jesus and Buddha for this opportunity.

“Good night, Azumane-san.”

“Right. G’night, L/N-san.”

Just like that it was lights off.

He wished he could’ve gotten a better image of you looking so relaxed; it might’ve been his last time after all. The both of you were already in your third year and it was only a few months until you’d be in different places, doing God knows what… Asahi felt an oncoming headache from the thought.

Cutting through the images in his head, a flash of white suddenly illuminated the sheer curtains separating the room from the windows. Not even a few moments later, a boom rattled outside, followed by a high-pitched squeak coming from under the sheets of the single bed.

You were shaking.

Shaking so hard that the bed looked like it was trembling with you. Asahi couldn’t see you under the covers of the velvety duvet, but it didn’t take much effort for him to know that your eyes were screwed tightly in attempt to block out the spark.

Lightning struck again and this time, you whimpered loudly.

“L/N-san?! Are you alright?” against his own bodily will, Asahi jumped to the side of the bed, immediately crouching on the floor to observe you at eye’s level.

You answered with a brisk whine, slightly muffled by the harsh onslaught of rain knocking at the walls.

“L/N-san… you’re afraid of it, aren’t you?” his mouth was moving on its own, saying things he knew he shouldn’t be saying so casually. “You’re afraid of lightning.”

The stare you gave him was incredulous. Wide-eyed and astonished but all the same, it reflected the eyes of someone who understood your apprehension. Silence lingered in the air as the rain reached its crescendo. Breaking it, you spoke.

“My older sister would usually be there to hold me during a storm. It’s childish, I know. But it’s just so terrifying for me—the sounds and the lights… I don’t like it. I hate it so much.”

You looked so vulnerable in the frame of shadows. So small and afraid, someone Asahi would take a bullet for just to stop their tears.

“D-do you want me to hold you?”

Asahi did a double take. What was he, possessed?! You were going to see him as a pervert now. He wanted to vomit at the thought of you avoiding him for the rest of his life. Sure, he could live with being miles away from you, but the notion of being miles away from you because he had let some words slip out of his mouth was insanely out of proportion.

“Would you, Azumane-san?” Now, you were possessed?!

Fear still flitted in your eyes, but now, there was a glint of hope in them. A hope that Asahi would die to reach for.

“Huh? A-are you sure that—”

“Please.”

Air filled his lungs, making his chest rise. Asahi didn’t blink once as he nodded in silence; he didn’t want to miss out on a single second of this opportunity. Not a chance.

You scooted over on the bed, making space for him to slide next to you under the sheets. Having his large body occupy most of the mattress as compared to your smaller figure, Asahi blushed in the loom of the dark. All the blood rushing to his face even made the next flash of light outside the window go unnoticed.

“Azumane-san!” you hid your face in his arm, your own arms flying to grab ahold of him.

Was this illicit activity? You were both underaged and most definitely not in the right relationship for things like this to occur. It seemed so wrong. If anyone caught you in this compromising situation, Asahi would shoot himself dead, no doubt about it. But for now, he just wanted to make up for all the trouble he gave you that night, even if it cost him his dignity.

Fingers gently combing through your locks, the pads of his fingers just slightly kissed your scalp. It was a mere act, but it had so much effect on you. Your jagged breathing slowed and you were able to slacken your iron grip on him. It was just like your sister but in a way, Asahi was worlds different.

Rain pelting down endlessly, you pressed your face harder into the cotton shirt that divided you from his skin. “Sorry, Azumane-san… and thank you.”

“Y-yeah… s’alright…”

A stray yawn escaping your throat, you sighed into his embrace. “Sleepy… gonna go to sleep… night… Azumane…-san…”

Just like that, Asahi had to fight back a squeal when you finally surrendered to slumber.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenario #azumane asahi #azumane asahi x reader #azumane asahi imagine #azumane asahi scenario #karasuno x reader #sfw #asahi x reader #azumane x reader #bruh haikyuu writing

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springday-aus · 4 years ago

Text

BTS’s Namjoon: Plus Two || part one

—

Fic Piece Written by: Admin Grandma of @springday-aus

Moodboard Link: Created By Admin Grandpa

Character Pairing: Y/N and BTS’s Kim Namjoon (RM)

Other Characters: BTS [Hoseok, Taehyung, Yoongi (barista!yoongi), Seokjin - others are mentioned briefly], Hyerin (EXID), Suho (EXO OT12), Moonbyul (Mamamoo), Eric Nam, Tiffany (SNSD), Irene (Red Velvet), and Jackson (GOT7) - along with their respective group members, who are involved as planners, partakers, and guests

Genre: romance, comedy, officer worker!Namjoon, wedding date!au, friends to lovers!au

Type: series [two parts]

part one || part two

Word Count: approx. 21.6k

Plot Summary: getting older is never easy, especially with all the weddings Namjoon has been attending. Fortunately for him, a run in with an old friend of his, i.e. you, makes all these weddings a bit more bearable.

⤷ Alternatively: you and Namjoon keep running into each other, ultimately becoming unofficial wedding dates. Once it’s official, a couple of things start to change... such as the old flame that Namjoon thought he put out.

→ Inspired by: the movie called Plus One—hence the creation of Plus Two!

Warnings: lots of drinking involved and cursing

A/N: this accidentally became a slow burn fic, considering that I stretched out Namjoon’s pining to 21k words.

October 25th, 2019

Friday, 10AM

Lee Corporations

—

The clicks of computer keyboards fill the dead silence of the office floor. Everyone’s buried in their own paperwork and files, concerned about finishing their workload before the work day is over. Namjoon sits in his cubicle, reorganizing his spreadsheets and double checking the numbers. It’s taking longer than he originally wanted, but then again, computer games are designed for distractions. He checks his watch. It’s only been two hours and he’s already bored. Sure, he’s got enough work, but does he really want to do it?

No, not really.

He rubs his eyes, which he inwardly hopes might wake him up from this nightmare. Curse him for being practical and choosing to be a business major. Had he chosen a different path, he might have turned out happier—at least, he has a stable paycheck. By the end of the day, that’s all that really matters in this lifetime.

A chime from his phone interrupts his thoughts on his extinctial crisis. He grabs his phone from his desk counter, as he stands up from his seat. Might as well grab another cup of coffee. He heads to the break room and immediately navigates himself into the corner, where the coffee maker rests. After plugging it in, he unlocks his phone and clicks on the latest notification—an email sent to his personal inbox.

You’re invited to celebrate the union of Seo Hyerin and Yoon Jae Jung!

Date: November 16th

Time: 11:15am for the ceremony, 8pm for the reception

Location: Crossroads Cathedral and Sweet Dreams Event Hall

Please RSVP at XXX-XXX-XXXX or respond to the email! We hope to see you there!

Huh, he hadn’t heard from Hyerin for a while—last thing he remembered was that she was enjoying her job as a translator and she was in a wonderful relationship, which is now blossoming into marriage.

Good for her.

He doesn’t mean for it to sound as sarcastic as it does. It is good for her. As one of her close friends (close enough to get her wedding invitation at least), he’s glad she’s able to find someone who wants to share her life with.

But it’s also a reminder that Namjoon hasn’t managed to do the same. He shuts his eyes and lets out a long sigh. It’s going to be really sad that he’s going to be there without a date of some sort, while others are most likely going to be there with dates. It’ll be nice to catch up with some of his old friends, but it’s also going to be a pain to have all those pity looks and the ‘don’t worry, you’ll find someone soon’ speeches.

By the time he realizes he’s lost himself within his thoughts once again, the coffee is reheated and his phone screen has turned black. He moves his mug and slowly pours the dark liquid in. Namjoon’s ringtone breaks the silence. The image of Hoseok’s dog, Micky, flashes on his screen with the words, Dancing King.

“What’s up, man?” Namjoon asks, as he pours a packet of sugar into his cup.

“Hey! How’s my favorite businessman?”

“Hoseok, I’m the only businessman you know.”

“No! Wonsik is also a businessman.”

“He’s a CEO of his own music company—while there is business associated, he’s still deemed as a musician in my book.”

There’s a bit of silence and Namjoon can practically see Hoseok’s lips pulling back in disappointment.��

“Same difference,” Hoseok says through the line. “Anyways, did you see the invitation yet?”

“Yeah, I saw it,” Namjoon says. “I just can’t believe Hyerin is already getting married.”

“I know. It’s almost like we’re adults or something.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes from Hoseok’s sarcastic comment, even though he can’t see it. “Are you bringing anyone?”

“It’s too soon to see, but I might try to find a date—it’s just another wedding.” There’s a pause, with some muffled shuffling. “If not though, would you do the honor of being my date?”

“You know, I might just take you up on that offer.”

“Bet,” Hoseok says. “Well, the others are starting to come back from break. I’ll talk to you later?”

“You know where I’ll be.”

“Only from 9 to 5.” There’s another laugh from him through the phone. “Alright, bye!”

“Bye.”

He sets his phone down, staring mindlessly into his coffee as he waits for the sugar to dissolve.

Well, on the bright side, he has a date to the wedding now. That one task marked off the list.

November 16th, 2019

Saturday, 9PM

Hyerin’s Reception

Sweet Dreams Event Hall

—

“I’ve known Hyerin for such a long time,” Hani says. “And I have seen so many sides of her. Even today, she continues to reveal new sides of her that are surprising to everyone. She’s smart; she’s classy; she’s fun-loving and she’s cute. Sure, everyone here might know her as the crazy one in this group. But that craziness is part of her charm—which I’m sure Jae Jung has experienced at least once or twice by now.”

The crowd laughs, as Hani tips her glass towards the couple. She gives another dazzling smile to them and continues. “Nevertheless, that craziness is what’s going to make life more entertaining for you. Some may say marriage doesn’t last, but I know you two will make it work. As one of Hyerin’s closest friends, I wish you two nothing more than a lifetime of happiness from one another. Congratulations, Hyerin and Jae Jung.”

There’s a light applause as Hani, the maid of honor, finishes her speech, which is followed by the taps of the guests’ champagne glasses. Hoseok and Namjoon’s glasses make a clink against the other, before they respectively clink their glasses with the other guests at their table.

“Cheers.”

After taking a sip, Namjoon turns his attention back to his plate, which is cleared of food.

“Hey,” he says with a nudge to Hoseok. “When did they say they were gonna cut the cake?”

“I think they’re gonna cut it after a couple more courses.”

“I’m so full.” Namjoon lightly pats his stomach. “I knew there was gonna be a lot of food, but I didn’t know it was going to be this much.”

Hoseok lets out a laugh. “Hyerin’s got a bottomless pit for a stomach—you should have known she was going to have a lot of food.”

Namjoon laughs with him. “Oh my God. How could I forget the buffet incident?”

Their conversation is interrupted by some feedback from the speakers. The crowd’s attention is turned back to the main table, where Hyerin stands with the microphone in hand and her new husband, Jae Jung, is trying to fix the veil that was caught on the back of her dress.

“Hello everyone! Thank you so much for coming and joining us for this evening. Also, if we could give another hand to Hani for helping me arrange the whole thing—she really is the best. This night has been the most incredible.” There’s some more applause and, at the end of the main table, Hani stands once more with a smile and bows to the guest tables.

Hyerin continues to talk once it dies down. “Um, we’re still coming around to the tables to properly greet and thank everyone for their support and gifts. The cake will be cut soon, but we still have two more courses left. Also, the bar remains open, if any adults need some more alcohol.” There’s a light laugh—Hoseok and Namjoon exchange looks of agreement to hit the bar after the meal.

“And after the cake is cut, everyone is welcome to the dance floor.” She hands the mic to Jae Jung.

“Hyerin and I will have our first dance and, after that, the party can officially start.” A guy in the back shouts a ‘woo’ and there’s scattered laughter. “Anyways, thank you again for coming in support of Hyerin and I. We hope you have a good time tonight.”

There’s more applause and the couple resume to make their rounds to each table. The informal conversations begin once again as the guests wait for the next course to be served. Namjoon turns his attention back to Hoseok, who’s already engaged in conversation with a couple of people at the table.

“So, how do you know the couple?” Minhyuk asks.

“Ah, Hyerin and I went to the same dance academy,” Hoseok says. “We’ve been friends for, like, 10 years now. We all still talk so…” He gives a light shrug with an eased smile.

Minhyuk looks over at Namjoon unexpectedly, who freezes for a bit from the eye contact, before answering. “Oh, I met Hyerin through Hoseok actually,” he says. “We had a couple of classes together and were in a couple of study groups together in college and…” He pauses. “Here we are. How do you know her?”

“I was friends with her back in high school,” Minhyuk says. “A lot of people thought we were dating, so it’s a whole inside joke between us—especially since I got invited to her wedding.”

“That’s funny,” Namjoon says. “But, wow. You kept in contact after high school?”

“Yeah, thanks to the creation of cell phones and, as you already know.” He pauses. “Hyerin is very sociable, so it’d be hard to not keep contact.”

“Speaking of which,” Hoseok says. “There’s a lot of people here. Their guest list is huge.”

“I have a feeling there’s more of Hyerin’s friends than Jae Jung,” Namjoon says with a small laugh.

“I’d place my bet on that,” Minhyuk says. His attention is diverted towards the servers that were coming out to serve the fifth course, making more conversation with the others at the table.

“That’s a safe bet,” Hoseok says to Namjoon. “I’ve seen nearly everyone from dance camp.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Hoseok takes another look around. “I saw Hyemi as we were coming in and Sanghyuk is just a couple of tables away.” He pokes his head up, sitting up straighter to get a more clear look around. “I should catch up with him in a bit.”

“Maybe you two can meet on the dance floor,” Namjoon says with a laugh. “That’d be an interesting scene.”

“Well, there is an open bar.”

Namjoon can only give Hoseok a warning look, to which he gets a mischievous one in return. He can only sigh in response, but he can’t help to chuckle. He’s known Hoseok for so long that he knows he can’t stop one of his shenanigans.

He resumes his attention back to his plate, where a small scoop of brightly colored sorbet sits in a little bowl.

“It’s cute,” Hoseok says. “We get ice cream before the cake.” He does a little dance with his shoulders, beaming with his pearly whites.

“First of all,” Namjoon says. “I think you’ve had enough sugar. I’m afraid of what’ll happen once the alcohol starts to take effect as well. Secondly, it’s sorbet and it’s supposed to refresh your palate.”

“Ah, Namjoon,” Hyerin says. “Smart as always.” The entire table centers their focus on the newlyweds, who’ve approached them from behind. Light cheers erupt from the other guests and Namjoon gives her a big, toothy grin.

“I was just wondering when you two were gonna get to our table,” Il Woo says from across the table.

Hyerin laughs. “I’m trying my best to get to all the tables, but, in hindsight, we do have too many friends.”

“To be honest,” Jae Jung says. “We had to cut down the list, like, twice.”

“Finding a venue to fit everyone was easier than cutting down the list. Who knew?” Hyerin makes a face, which Hoseok responds to with one of his. The two start to go around the table, individually catching up with others and filling the guest’s glasses as they chat—eventually getting to Hoseok and Namjoon.

“Are you two finally dating?” Hyerin teases.

“As much as I like Hoseok,” Namjoon says. “Seokjin is more of my type.” He looks over at Hoseok, who pouts.

Hoseok turns away with bitterness. “That’s fine, I like Yoongi better anyways.”

“It’s nice to see that you two haven’t changed,” Hyerin says. “Thank you for coming—the both of you.”

“It’s no problem,” Hoseok says. “We’re your friends.”

“We’re here to support you.” Namjoon says.

“You two are just as sweet as I remember,” she says with a bright smile. She taps her glass with theirs. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

Hoseok and Namjoon take their respective sips, while Hyerin drowns hers down.

“Damn,” Hoseok says. “Your tolerance hasn’t changed since college.”

“We’ll see with how tonight goes,” Hyerin says. “I think the others’ have lowered, so watch out when they all head to the bar.”

“You mean like now?” Namjoon asks.

“What?”

Namjoon points a finger towards the wall where glass shelves hold many colorful bottles of wine, liquor, and juices to mix with the alcohol. A bartender mixes the drinks to the best of her abilities to fill the four glasses set on the counter. Hyerin’s bridesmaids lean on the countertop, shouting “shots” repeatedly.

“Oh dear God,” Hyerin says. She shuffles with her dress, grabbing as much of it as she can, and attempts to run over towards them. “Y’all!! Couldn’t you have waited until the elders left!?! Wait for me!”

Jae Jung hurriedly follows after her. “Honey! Be careful with the dress, you could trip!”

After they ran off, Hoseok and Namjoon could no longer hold in their laughter.

“That’s one way to exit a conversation,” Namjoon says with another sip of his champagne. “They really haven’t changed since college.” He lets out another laugh. “Who else do you think is here?”

“Honestly, knowing Hyerin,” Hoseok says. “I have no clue.”

They get back to their plates and converse with the others at the table. Hyerin has made many friends after graduating, Namjoon notes. Then again, she’s always been very friendly with others, which is how Namjoon was able to easily get along with her.

As the conversations go, the last course, along with the cake, is served and the dance floor is officially open. Once 10pm hit, Hyerin and Jae Jung led their first dance. Everyone slowly started to join in and then the songs were transitioning to a faster pace, in which the elderly started to take their leave. Good timing too because the alcohol started to set in and no one had any resistance left.

Hoseok has officially abandoned Namjoon to steal the leftover party favors on empty tables (at this point, he’s openly stealing rather than sneaking them into his pockets). Namjoon remains at the, now, empty table and empty plate—observing the other guests who have made a home for themselves on the dance floor.

Hyojin’s alcohol tolerance is officially met as she twerks on the dance floor. Hyerin and Hoseok’s dance friends, Hyemi and Sanghyuk, have officially engaged in a full-fledged dance battle. Meanwhile, one of the bridesmaids, Solji, has another, Junghwa, on one arm to pull her away from any physical object she could flirt with (to which Namjoon has been a victim) and, in the other arm, she holds a svedka bottle that’s already half empty. In another corner, from Namjoon’s table, Minhyuk has helped himself to the rest of the uncut cake with a serving spoon.

Amidst the chaos, Namjoon stays at the table, taking in the atmosphere with the disco lights and fast-paced radio hip-hop songs. He nods along with the music, mouthing along with the lyrics. As much as he would love to join the others, he knows he would most likely break something of his, or someone else’s.

He checks his watch and glances around, wondering as to how far Hoseok had gotten with the party favors. Just as he was about to start his search, Rihanna’s Umbrella starts to play and that’s when he hears Hoseok before he can see him.

“BITCH! THIS IS MY JAM!”

Namjoon has to close his eyes from embarrassment of being his date, but then something saves him.

“BITCH, ME TOO. MOVE!”

“HANNA AND (Y/N) IN THE BUILDING, EH EH EH.”

Well, nevermind.

The crowd parts like the red sea, allowing Hoseok and two familiar looking figures to meet in the middle—each person nodding along to the melody and waving their arms in the air. As if it was a karaoke meet, everyone sings aloud, along to the music.

“You have my heart. And we’ll never be worlds apart. Maybe in magazines… but you’ll still be my star…”

Namjoon smiles at the sight. Hoseok and Hanna are doing their own thing, ignoring the little bags that fall out from Hoseok’s pockets that were, technically, stolen from the other tables. You blend into the crowd, swaying to the melody with Hani on one arm.

“Because~ When the sun shines, we shine together. Told you I’ll be here forever. Said I’ll always be your friend. Took an oath, Imma stick it out to the end. Now that it's raining more than ever, know that we’ll have each other. You can stand under my umbrella… You can stand under my umbrella, ella, ella, eh, eh, eh…”

Namjoon makes eye contact with you. Your eyes widen, surprised from seeing him. With your free arm, you wave him over—to which he can only shake his head, passing up the opportunity of embarrassing himself in front of his old college friends.

You pull yourself away from the crowd and head towards his direction, eventually taking the empty seat next to him. Without a word, you reach over and grab a champagne glass from the other side, drowning it down in one shot.

“Ahh,” you breathe out. You point to his glass and the remaining alcohol that glistens from the disco lights. Without another word, Namjoon hands it over to you. He can only watch, as you drown down that glass as well.

“Well,” he says. “It’s nice to see you too, (Y/N).”

“Sorry,” you say. “That glass looked too appealing.”

He lets out another light laugh with a shake of his head. “Seriously though, it’s nice to see you.”

You hum. “How long has it been? Couple of years?”

“Yeah, it’s been a bit of time,” Namjoon says. “Glad to see you haven’t changed too much.”

“Glad to see you haven’t either.” You pause, looking back at his, now empty, glass. “Still have a low tolerance?”

“You already know the answer to that, so why bother asking?”

“Just ‘cause it’s fun to hear you admit you’re a little baby when it comes to drinking.”

“Ugh, this is just because you were able to build a tolerance from all that bar hopping.”

“We both did that bar hop.” You scan him with a glint in your eyes. “Something clearly went something wrong.”

You both laugh. With another nudge towards him, you speak up again. “How’ve you been? Still working at the office?”

“Yeah, I’m officially a manager.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“You still making music?”

“Every now and then,” he says. “Whenever I get the time, I do.”

You let out a little laugh, grabbing another glass of champagne. “I remember all those tracks you made. Shame that your mixtape never released.”

“Oh my God.” Namjoon has to close his eyes. “Please never bring that up again.”

“Why not? They were great.” You take a sip of the glass. “I still have your Soundcloud page bookmarked.”

Namjoon rubs his face with his face becoming more and more flushed, but he can’t hide his growing smile. “Oh my God, (Y/N).”

You give him another teasing one in return. “Remember when you used to try to promote yourself on the quad—”

“Oh my God, (Y/N)—”

You let out another laugh from his red face. Namjoon shuffles his feet and his eyes dart around, trying to find a drink for his, suddenly, dry throat. As if you read his mind, you tip your glass towards him—offering him the rest of your drink. He takes it and takes a small sip, clearing his throat afterwards.

“Anyways,” Namjoon says. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old.” You pause. “You act like you didn’t like my Instagram post two nights ago. You also DM me memes, dude.”

“Yeah, but that’s different from actually talking to you and catching up.” Namjoon rests a hand on his chest, in mock-hurt. “I’ve been sending those since college and you still don’t appreciate them?”

You roll your eyes but it’s with no malice. “For your information, more is not less. Less is less.”

“Is this your way of telling me to lessen the meme content in our messaging?”

“Yes.”

“Damn, that’s harsh.”

You let out another laugh as he pouts in his seat. “Sorry, Joonie.”

Your conversation is interrupted, as Hyemi shouts your name from across the room. “(Y/N)! I’M PUTTING ON BRITTNEY, BITCH.”

“AYY!” You immediately get up from your seat, dancing your way over back to the dance floor. As Hyemi pulls you away, you look back towards Namjoon and give him a little finger wave. “I’ll see you sometime, okay?”

He smiles back with a small nod, just quick enough for you to see, before you get pulled into the crowd once again.

December 3nd, 2019

Tuesday, 6PM

Shoreside Condos

—

Another chime comes from Namjoon’s email. He continuously types, re-organizing and triple checking the calculations of his spreadsheets.

He sits on the couch with multiple sheets of paper which lay on the unoccupied space of the table and couch, in some type of clean mess. In the background, his flat screen plays a film from some movie channel that he stopped paying attention to a while ago. His only company, Rapmon, lays on the carpet near Namjoon’s feet—practically blending himself into the white, soft texture. The keyboard clicks continue for a couple more minutes, before he decides to check his email.

Hello Mr. Kim,

How are you this evening? I am sending this email to let you know there are some adjustments that need to be made to the reports. Below, I have some attachments for you to check.

Please let me know once they are completed. Have a good evening. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.

Sincerely,

Bang Sihyuk

Head Manager of the Big Hit Management Team

Lee Corporations

Namjoon lets out a sigh. Guess it’s more work for him. Jokes on Bang though—he didn’t give him a deadline. Loopholes are a wonderful thing.

He shuffles with the papers on the table, trying to find the remote. Once it’s spotted, he lowers the volume. He looks at the overall mess, ultimately deciding it’s better to clean it up, somewhat. As he pushes some of them back into their manila folders, he hears a whine.

With a scratch behind Rapmon’s ears, Namjoon gives him a little kiss. “You hungry, baby?” Namjoon gives a small smile, as Rapmon pants. “I’ll get some food for my good boy.”

He lifts himself from the sofa, already abandoning his clean-up attempt. Rapmon bounces alongside with him and they head into the kitchen area. Opening one of the lower cabinets, he easily pulls out the dog food and puts it into the doggy bowl.

Leaning on the countertop, he looks down adoringly at his pupper. “I should probably get something to eat too.” He pats his stomach. “It’s been empty.”

He pushes himself off and shuffles over to the refrigerator. However, a white card, decorated with lace, catches his attention. He sighs, plucking the card off the refrigerator magnet.

Join us for the union of Minyoung and Junmyeon!

January 11th, 2020 @ 5PM

Location: Sowon Temple

—

Black tie dress.

Reception to follow!

See you there!

Namjoon lets out another sigh, but from the migraine that formed. He’s gonna have to text Taehyung—maybe they can go wedding gift shopping together. Considering how much Taehyung spends, Namjoon is sure to balance out that…. Taehyung-ness.

He grabs out his phone, sliding it open to his messages.

Namjoon: yo, did you get a present for Junmyeon yet?

The reply is nearly instant and comes all at once.

Tata: oh shit

Tata: i forgot

Tata: shall we go shopping soon ?

Namjoon: you read my mind

Tata: it’s like we’re soulmates

Tata: :)

Namjoon: …. okay

Tata: i love you :*

Namjoon: and you have now made it weird

Namjoon: but ily too

Tata: i’m screenshotting this for the groupchat

Namjoon: and goodbye

He shakes his head, silently laughing at Taehyung’s responses. He’ll make those plans later, once he’s got some more time. It’ll be fun to spend some more time with Tae. It’s been a couple of weeks since they’d hung out. While their time at the ice rink was fun, they spent more time struggling than skating together (well, at least Taehyung was the one struggling).

But, right now, he’s got more work dumped on him. And he’s hungry.

Rapmon looks up at him as Namjoon looks down at him. “Don’t look at me like that.” Namjoon opens the fridge without breaking eye contact. “This is for me. You got your bowl, buddy.”

January 11th, 2020

Saturday, 7PM

Junmyeon’s Reception

Enchanted Evenings Restaurant

—

“Although I am the oldest of our group,” Minseok says. “Junmyeon has taken care of me ever since I became friends with him. I’m sure that everyone in this room, who knows Junmyeon, knows that he has this thing where he cares more for others rather than himself. He’s the mother figure that everyone wants in their lives and we were lucky enough to have him as ours. But now, he’ll finally have someone to care for him this time around, for the rest of his life.”

He turns to the main table and raises his glass. “I would like to dedicate this toast to Mi Young, on behalf of the exo boys. Thank you for putting up with all of us.” The crowd chuckles. “ And congratulations to the both of you, for finding someone who will faithfully look after you no matter what. Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

Everyone respectfully clicks their glasses together, taking a sip and going back to their meals and their own little conversations. Namjoon looks up from his glass, seeing Taehyung across the table—chatting away with the other guests. Tae fits well with the others, despite looking out of place in his patterned suit (“It’s Gucci. I have taste,” Taehyung said, when he was picking up Namjoon).

Namjoon glances to the right… where you are seated. You happily drown your glass down, letting out an exhale from the refresher.

You turn to him. “Do you think I’m allowed to drink more?” you ask.

“(Y/N),” Namjoon says. “I think it’s better for everyone if you didn’t drink more.”

You pout.

Namjoon tries not to stare.

“You, my friend,” you say with a point of your finger, poking his chest. “Need to loosen up.” You shake your empty glass at him. “What better way than with alcohol?”

“Have you become an alcoholic? Is that what this is?”

“Haha, oh so funny as always, Joonie.”

“You know I try,” he says with a grin.

He sets down the glass, turning his attention back to his plate—on it lies a pile of chopped lobster topped with little scraps of gold, which is paired with fresh caviar and foie gras sauce on the side. Everything looks so good that it practically glistens in the chandelier light coming from above the table.

While there are many guests, the venue is actually very spacious. Each table has a good amount of space that the chairs don’t bump into one another when pushed out. And yet, there’s still a large amount of space dedicated to a multicolored dance floor (which has Baekhyun and Jongin written all over it, Namjoon notes).

Even without the tables, anyone could tell it’s decorated tastefully. Above each table, there’s various lights that provide a nice atmosphere for the guests. The ceiling itself is painted plain white, but if anyone looks close enough there’s little specks of gold that shine against the light. In contrast to the ceiling, the walls were covered with wallpaper. The wallpaper is also white with gold accents, but there are also pearls that popped out of the walls—quite literally popped out. The kids who came with their parents have been feeling up the wall for the past hour or two.

Namjoon knew the wedding would be boujee, since it is Junmyeon’s, but he’d almost forgotten about how loaded Junmyeon’s family actually is.

“Who knew my most expensive meal would come from a wedding?” Go Eun says, from your other side. You let out a laugh. “It’s the Kim family, what more did you expect?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “Maybe something corny.”

“Honey, we’re past corny when we walked through those balloon arches.”

Go Eun blinks, slowly nodding along as she comes to the realization. “Ah, I guess I never got over the whole senior-junior view I had of him in school.”

“He’s got that vibe; he seems like a chill mentor.”

“But realistically speaking,” Namjoon pitches in. “We know that’s far from the truth.”

“Considering how he dances to any Sistar song like (Y/N) to Hit Me Baby One More Time,” Go Eun pauses. “I think all of the guests here know that.”

“Damn,” you say. “You really had to attack me like that, huh?”

She gives you an innocent smile that feels not-so-innocent. “Hyerin’s reception videos circulated. What else was I supposed to do with their information?”

You give her a teasing one in return, before returning to your plate once more.

There’s a moment of silence at the table as everyone is starting to dive into their meals, except for the silverware that taps the plates and bowls. As the plates start to get cleared, the chatter picks up once more—especially as the newlywed couple makes their way around with Junmyeon holding the train of Minyoung’s dress. Taehyung stirs up the commotion as he sees them making their way over.

“Here comes the lucky couple!”

From the sudden, informal announcement, everyone cheers with their glasses—both empty and full—for the newlyweds.

Junmyeon tucks a strand of Minyoung’s hair back with one hand and, with the other, he holds a glass filled with champagne that’s already lost its bubbles. “Thank you for coming, everyone. We really appreciate your presence here.”

“It’s no problem,” Namjoon says. “We’re glad to be here.”

“We hope you like our presents!” Taehyung practically yells. “If you don’t, then deal with it because we lost the receipts.” He gives them one of his boxy smiles.

Everyone gives a light-hearted laugh at Junmyeon’s face.

“Is everyone okay?” Minyoung asks. She stands behind you and Namjoon, laying a hand on your shoulder. “Is the food good?”

“Minyoung, this one plate is about the equivalent of my first year tuition,” Yeri says, looking at her. “The food is more than just good.”

“Don’t worry,” you say, giving Minyoung’s hand a pat. “Everything is great.”

She lets out an exhale. “I was just a bit concerned because Junmyeon decided the meals without me.”

“Honey,” Junmyeon says. “The meals turned out great. (Y/N) agrees.” He turns to the rest of the table. “You guys are going to love the dessert.”

“What’s for dessert?” Yunho asks, from one side of the table.

“It’s a Golden Opulence Sundae,” Junmyeon says with a beam.

“It’s got edible diamonds and a sugar forged orchid,” Namjoon whispers to you. “It was super trendy a couple of years ago, but it doesn’t mean the price went down.”

Your eyes widen. “Goddamn,” you mouth to him.

“Yeah, he went a bit overboard,” Namjoon says.

Junmyeon pouts at Namjoon’s words and Minyoung pinches his cheek. Minho makes a gagging noise and Yunho has to hit him to get him to stop.

“Anyways,” Minyoung says, pouring another glass for you and Namjoon. “Let’s enjoy the evening with a drink—cheers.”

“Cheers.”

Around the table, everyone respectively tap their glasses against one another—Namjoon with you and Minho, you with Namjoon and Go Eun.

“We would love to stay, but we need to get to the other guests,” Junmyeon says.

“But,” Minyoung says. “Stay as long as you would like. Desert is coming and the cake will be cut soon after. So, please enjoy yourselves—at the table, on the dance floor, the pool out back—”

“There’s a pool?” Heechul asks from the other side of the table.

“Yeah, the doors will officially be open after thirty minutes or so,” Minyoung says. “Anyways, mingle and have fun. We’ll be around.”

“Enjoy yourselves, okay?” Junmyeon says with another smile. With his hand on her lower back, he guides her towards the other table behind yours.

“They’re so cute,” you say with a pout. “I’m glad to see Minyoung with someone good for her.”

“Same,” Namjoon says. “I haven’t seen Junmyeon this happy since…” He tries to think.

“Since Sehun paid that one time for dinner?”

Namjoon’s eyes light up. “Yeah!” He takes another sip of his glass. “I almost forgot about that.”

“I couldn’t,” you say. “You don’t ever forget it if Sehun pulls out his wallet for you.”

“Yeah, he only pulls out his wallet for Vivi,” Namjoon notes. “Big mood though.”

You laugh.

Everyone gets back to their plates, which now has the dessert and the reception goes on. The conversation flows, between all the guests—at their assigned tables, along with the other tables. Siwon visited Namjoon’s table on many occasions, just because of Yunho and Minho’s seats. Although, Namjoon will admit that their conversations are very impressive (many topics related around politics and social injustices in modern society, which was very impressive to be honest).

The time continues to pass, but it’s hard to tell with all the conversation going on. While Namjoon is more introverted, he has been very engaged in many conversations with others—especially with you. It had only been about a year or two since you two had actually talked, caught up and all that good stuff.

You two originally met in college, in one of your classes together—after all, the study group that suffers together, stays together. While Namjoon majored in business, you had actually studied what you wanted. Your drive and extrovertedness balanced with Namjoon’s realism and introvertedness, which created, what you believe to be, an iconic duo on campus (at least with your friends).

While it is inevitable for people to lose touch after college, you were easily able to keep the connections. With the help of social media, you reached out and managed to keep contact with your close knit group of friends—including Namjoon and many others from college (and probably high school).

Unfortunately for Namjoon, this also means reminders of the uni days—both good and bad (as previously mentioned: the mixtape promos on the quad)...

“Expensive Girl was a fucking bop and you know it,” you say, scooping another spoonful of your ice cream. “What did you do with all of those CDs anyways?”

Namjoon groans, wiping his face as if it’ll get rid of the embarrassment from the olden days. “Honestly, they’re probably in a box somewhere and collecting dust.”

“Come on,” you say. “You have to admit that those songs were actually really impressive.” You smile at him. “You were really creative. What happened?”

He sighs, setting down his, now empty, wine glass. “Nothing happened, (Y/N).” He pauses. “Real life just got into the way and… next thing I knew, I stopped making songs.”

The look in your eyes softens. “Namjoon, you’re one of the most creative people I know,” you say. You lay a hand on his that rests on the table.

His eyes land on yours. You continue. “You should do what you enjoy, while balancing out the realistic picture.” Your other hand pokes his chest once more. “You, of all people, should know that. Remember what happened sophomore year?”

Ah, sophomore year. From what Namjoon remembers, you originally came into college undecided. It wasn’t until the beginning of sophomore year that you figured out what you wanted to do. (“Seeing you so driven about your music makes me more driven towards what I want to do,” you said to him. “Even if I suffer to the destination, my happiness afterwards is the most important to me and my future.”)

Namjoon sighs once more, but it’s more of frustration towards himself rather than exhaustion. He can only say one thing. “Being an adult is hard.”

You laugh at his statement—your hand unmoving from his, another thing Namjoon tries not to focus on, but he can’t because of the warmth of your hand. Yes, while the two of you are friends, if he said he never had non-platonic feelings for you would definitely be a lie.

The tap of the mic interrupts his thoughts and the conversations start to simmer down once more. In the front, Junmyeon and Minyoung stand side by side. Minyoung is in a different wedding dress but it’s been shortened and paired with some white flats. Junmyeon’s jacket has been removed and his tie is loosened.

“Hello?” Minyoung says. “Can everyone hear me?” Her smile grows, as she meets everyone’s eyes and nods. “While people have been able to enter the pool area, it’s officially been thirty minutes since dessert was served.”

“With that,” Junmyeon says. “The pool is officially open, along with the dance floor. We’re allowing song requests, along with karaoke mics. So, go wild.”

“YEAH!” Chanyeol, Baekhyun and Jongdae simultaneously shout.

Junmyeon immediately retracts his statement. “Not too wild!” Despite that warning, everyone knows it’s already too late.

Jongin, Taemin, and Ten are the first ones to enter the dance floor as the music starts. Everyone easily joins in to circle around them and chaos starts to ensue, making space for the elderly to start to leave. As the other guests start to migrate towards the colorful tiles on the dance floor, the younger ones are more on the antisocial side—Yeri joins the table with Mark, Renjun, and her other university friends that were invited as well (considering that most of them can’t legally drink). Meanwhile, Yunho, Minho and Siwon continue their political conversations in another corner as their glasses are consistently refilled by the servers.

At some point, Sehun simply puts on his sunglasses and holds a bright yellow floatie in one arm (“Sehun, we’re indoors,” Luhan says. “Your point?” he retorts). He walks past your table, saying something about how he needed the hot tub and a bottle of bubbly after this chaotic week—although, the nearly empty strawberry flavored vodka in his hand said a lot more about his lack of current sobriety.

Meanwhile, you were long gone to the dance floor, being pulled in by Yuri and Hyoyeon. Go Eun was right; something just flips when Hit Me Baby One More Time plays. Namjoon remains at the table, watching the others continuously mingle and dance, as he engages in conversation with Jaebum and Taehyung.

“You two came together?” Jaebum asks.

“Yeah,” Taehyung says. “We went shopping together for Suho’s gift and he had no choice because he can’t drive,” Taehyung jabs a thumb towards Namjoon, who’s jaw drops.

The audacity.

“I suddenly miss Hoseok as my date,” Namjoon says.

“It’s nice you all kept in touch,” Jaebum says, ignoring Namjoon’s pettiness. “It’s hard to do that nowadays.”

“It really is,” Namjoon responds.

Jaebum and Taehyung nod alongside him in response. At this moment, Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Jongdae are walking past them with black buckets to which splashes could be heard with each movement.

“Hey guys!” Taehyung calls.

Baekhyun turns towards the table and the three make their way to Namjoon and them. “Hey, Tae! Long time no see,” he says. “Nice to see you two again, thanks for coming,” Baekhyun says to Namjoon and Jaebum. “Did anyone wanna come to the pool?”

Namjoon and Jaebum shake their heads. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” Namjoon says.

“Same,” Jaebum says. “I forgot about it.”

“Okay, good,” Chanyeol says. “Because you won’t want to swim in it later.”

“What?” Jaebum asks.

“We’re dying it pink,” Jongdae says. Their eyebrows raise in curiosity, but no one dares to ask. “Although, I think Kyungsoo has been catching on.” Jongdae’s eyes dart around, trying to catch sight of the short, but frightening man.

“I’m sorry,” Jaebum says. “Not to be that guy, but, where’s your wife?”

“She passed on the wedding invitation, so she’s at home with our daughter,” Jongdae says. His head tilts to the side and his eyes narrow. “Why?”

“Just trying to understand why you left the house without your impulse control,” Jaebum responds with a smile.

Jongdae pouts, but it’s ignored.

“Wanna join?” Baekhyun asks. He has an innocent smile on, but his eyes are full of mischievousness.

“I'll pass,” Namjon says with a raised hand. “But thanks for the offer.”

“Same,” Jaebum says. “I don’t plan on messing with Kyungsoo.”

“I’ll go with,” Taehyung says. “It’ll be interesting to see how all of this’ll unfold.”

He waves the other two goodbye and points to Namjoon. “Text me if you want to leave early, but I’ll be at the pool, okay?”

Namjoon nods. “Please be careful.”

“Always!”

Jaebum waits until they’re an earshot away. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Namjoon can only shrug. “But can you stop them?”

“You got a point there.”

From the other side of the venue, there’s a crash, followed by a splash, coming from the pool area and a yell louder than the music (which could only be Kyungsoo).

“YOU BRATS!”

“Well,” Namjoon says. “They lasted longer than I thought.”

Jaebum checks his watch. “Two minutes?”

“Exactly.”

No one is really sure of what happened with the dye (except for those who were actually in the pool). But it’s hard to concentrate on that when, out of the pool area, Jinki and Kibum emerge from the door with pool noodles, attacking one another with them with unnatural, pink frosted tips. Kyuhyun and Johnny are attempting to separate them, but are seemingly failing to do so. Jinki’s pool noodle hits Johnny, knocking him into a vase—luckily, he manages to catch it before it falls.

… That is until Ten knocks into him as he shakes his ass along to Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie.

“Oof,” Jaebum says. “That’s… that’s rough, bro.”

“Hopefully, no one notices?”

“Hopefully.”

Another server comes around, silently filling their glasses once more.

“Thank you.”

They clink their glasses together in a silent toast and take a sip. Jaebum sighs, leaning back to his (well, your) seat. He takes another glance at the dance floor, spotting Heechul and Momo dancing their asses off. You would think that as dates they would be dancing together, but it looks more like they’re competing. Eventually, he spots you with some of the others.

“I’m surprised you didn’t come here with (Y/N),” he says.

Namjoon’s eyebrows raise. “What? What’d you mean?”

“I just mean..” He pauses. “It’s not bad that you two are friends,” he starts. “But, I was betting you two would be together… or, at least, in college.”

Namjoon doesn’t know what to say, but Jaebum continues. “You two just had a lot of chemistry, and still do!” He pauses. “Not a lot of people can say that.”

He nods. “Yeah, you’re right.” Namjoon looks out, easily spotting you from the crowd. It’s hard not to notice you as you twirl and dance around with some other guests—especially since someone managed to get you into a duck floatie.

“I think it’s (Y/N) though,” he continues to say. “(Y/N)’s just sociable and… that outgoingness just makes people surround (Y/N).”

“Is that what led you to (Y/N)?”

From Jaebum’s question, Namjoon’s lips automatically pursed. “I-I guess it is.”

Before Jaebum could say anything else, Give It To Me by Sistar starts to play and there’s a shout.

“YES!”

Before anyone could stop him, Junmyeon shimmies his way past the guests and towards the center—loudly singing along and doing all the dance moves.

Without either one of the boys noticing, Minyoung stands behind them with another champagne flute that’s half empty.

“Why hello, Mrs. Kim,” Jaebum says, looking rather cheeky.

“Hello boys.”

“So, Mrs. Kim,” Namjoon says. “What are you going to do about that?” he asks, pointing to the monstrosity that’s happening underneath the multi-colored disco ball.

“Uh, I don’t know,” she says. She swirls her glass and drowns it down. “Because I suddenly don’t know him anymore.”

They laugh.

“Well, that’s your husband now,” Namjoon says. “That’s all on you.” With those words, he tilts his glass towards his mouth, emptying it out once more for the night.

January 27th, 2020

Monday, 8AM

The Roasted Bean

—

The sound of chatter and the smell of coffee fill the air as Namjoon steps into the familiar coffee shop. While some of his fellow co-workers sit at separate tables, typing away on their laptops and drinking from their espresso cups, they all collectively ignore his presence—too preoccupied with their own matters. His body automatically places himself in line; his head poking up every once in a while to get a glance of Yoongi behind the counter.

Since it is early and they are located in the business district of the city, Namjoon expected for the line to be fairly long. As the time continues to pass, Namjoon quietly hums along to the songs that play on the morning radio, occasionally nodding along with the beat. He gets closer and closer, eventually giving a smile at the frowning barista.

“How are you doing that?” Yoongi asks. “It’s, like, dawn.”

“It’s eight in the morning,” Namjoon points out. “Not exactly dawn.”

He brushes the comment off. “You’re here earlier than usual. What happened to 9 to 5, Dolly Parton?”

“Nothing really,” he says with a shrug. “I just have some extra work to do and I should be able to leave an hour earlier.”

Yoongi makes a face with nothing short of disgust. “I still don’t understand how you’re able to just go to work like that.”

“You’re at work though.”

“Okay, but here, I get free coffee.”

“Isn’t that stealing?”

“Not if I mess up,” he says with a wink. “Speaking of messing up orders, how can I mess up yours?”

“The usual is fine,” Namjoon says. “Thanks, Yoongi.” He gets a grunt in response, so he takes that as his cue to head over to the side where the stirrers, creamers, and sugar lay. As he absentmindedly fiddles with the sugar packets, he goes back to humming along with the songs.

A tap on his shoulder interrupts his thoughts. A familiar grin greets him.

“I thought that was you,” you say.

His smile mirrors yours. “Hey, (Y/N). I almost didn’t recognize you in the daylight.”

“And I almost didn’t recognize you without alcohol in my system.”

Namjoon laughs. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re asking me what I’m doing in a coffee shop?”

He gives you a look. “You know what I mean.”

You let out a laugh of your own. “Well, I just was visiting my friend, who works down the street, and I heard this place has the best coffee.”

His eyebrows raise. “Well, consider me pleasantly surprised.”

“Thanks?” You let out another laugh, smiling as you move yourself towards him, along with the sugars and creamers.

You both end up fiddling with the little packets, nodding along to the music together silently. Namjoon glances towards you, eventually nudging you to get your attention again. You hum in response.

“You still prefer the french vanilla creamer?”

“Yes, sir,” you say. You pluck it from his hands with a twinkling look in your eyes.

He glances over again, catching your eye. He lets out an awkward chuckle. “What?”

“Nothing,” you sing. “I just can’t believe you still remembered that.”

“Considering how we spent most of our college years over-caffeinated,” he says. “It’s safe to say I remember it.”

“Over-caffeinated?” You think for a moment. “Sounds about right.” You pause for a moment. “Oh!”

Namjoon slightly jumps from your random shout, which you do apologize for.

“Sorry.” You put a hand on his arm with a not-so-innocent smile. “I just remembered: are you going to Moonbyul’s wedding?”

He thinks. It had been a while since he received the invitation, but he definitely remembers getting it. “Yeah,” he says, after a moment. “Yeah, Jin and I are planning on going together.”

“Still can’t drive?” you ask with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes.

“You know what,” he says. “I can’t and there’s no problem with me not having a license.”

“I didn’t say there was.” You sniffle your laughter, as he pouts.

“Don’t license-shame me.”

“Not a thing, Joonie.”

Before he can reply, he’s interrupted by Yoongi, who calls for him.

“Namjoon!”

You give him another smile, before heading back to the line. “I have to get back in the line. I’ll see ya. Thanks for the creamer.”

Before he heads back to the main counter, he gives you a little nod.

He tries to ignore Yoongi’s cheeky grin. “Don’t say anything.”

“Okay,” Yoongi says. “I’ll ask instead. Who was that and why do you look all slap-happy?”

Ah, semantics. They were going to get him some day. Namjoon sighs. “That was (Y/N).”

“From college (Y/N)?”

“College (Y/N).”

“Ahhhh.” He smirks.

“Can you not?” Namjoon groans.

“Didn’t you tell me you used to have a crush on (Y/N)?”

“Can we not?”

“Not what?”

“Elaborate.”

“Oh, okay. So,” Yoongi starts. “From your exact words: (Y/N) is technically your first love, but you never confessed out of fear—of both ruining your friendship and also rejection, which is only natural. You thought you had a chance at graduation, where you knew the ties could or could not be severed. And yet…. you still didn’t confess and, now that you’ve run into your old flame…” His eyebrows raise in question. “How are things, ‘Joonie’?”

Namjoon’s eyes narrow at him in speculation. “You remembered those details rather vividly.”

Yoongi shrugs. “My therapist says I have good listening skills.”

“You really have an answer for everything,” Namjoon mutters.

“And yet, I’m the one who’s a high school dropout.”

For once, Namjoon blanks, before deciding to change the subject. “I thought you said my order is ready.”

“It is.” Yoongi sets the large cup onto the counter and gives a bright smile that is filled with sarcasm. “Bone apple tea.”

“Thanks?”

“It’s lingo,” he says. “Keep up with the times, man. You’re younger than me.”

Namjoon groans, but he can’t suppress his grin. “Have fun with the morning rush. I’ll see you later, man.”

“See ya.”

On his way out, he gives you another wave goodbye, to which you wave back.

As he officially leaves the cafe shop, he makes his way back to the office. While his mornings are rather shitty, Yoongi does tend to make them brighter—but seeing you, on top of that, might have given him more energy than the coffee does.

February 14th, 2020

Friday, 8:30PM

Moonbyul’s Reception

Celebration Ceremonies Wedding Hall

—

“I think we can all agree that Moonbyul has a stronger image,” Hyejin says. “Despite the more masculine stereotype she’s categorized in, Moonbyul is a very loving, sweet, and tender person.” She pauses. “Although, Heewon probably already knows this.”

She turns to the rest of the guests. “People say that love is supposed to make you feel nervous—your heart will pound and the anxiety will make you sweat. But, I think, love means sharing yourself with another person and you’re willing to work together to build that life with one another. Byul is someone you can share anything with—she makes everything feel more comfortable. Rather than making you nervous, she makes you feel at ease.”

She pauses. “Heewon, you’re very lucky to have someone so dedicated and hardworking by your side. And, while I may not have known you for very long, I know you’ll take great care of her. Congrats to the MoonWon couple and may your marriage be blessed for all eternity.”

Light applause is given throughout the room and Hyejin makes her way back to her seat at the main table, with the other bridesmaids and immediate family members of the two brides.

Light conversations begin once again at each of the guest tables—Moonbyul and Heewon remain seated at their table, having greeted the guests earlier as they entered the reception hall. In the background, classical music plays softly (although, live music will continue to play after the cake has been cut).

It’s been calm so far, but who knows what will happen once the bar’s open.

Namjoon takes another sip from his water glass, listening as Seokjin rambles on about the perfect ramen. Next to Jin, there’s Hani and Yura, who look half confused and half-amazed at how much he knew about food. On the other side of Namjoon, Junghwan and Myungsoo are eating away at their plates, practically cleaning them with their utensils as they scrape the food off (despite that, Namjoon swears he heard both of them ask if doggy bags were doing to be given out).

“There’s this cute little shop that Namjoon and I used to go to all the time. Remember, Namjoon? It had that seafood theme with the cute decorations?”

Namjoon’s head turns from his name being mentioned. “Yeah?” He blinks, recalling the cute fish tanks they had along the wall. Granted, the restaurant also sold sushi and he always felt guilty whenever he ordered the sashimi platters. “We should go back there sometime. They really do have the best ramen there. You should give it a shot, if you get the chance.”

“I’m always up for food,” Hani says. “I’ll take the girls with me someday since you’re giving it such high praise.”

“Well,” Namjoon says. “Maybe when Hyerin gets back from her honeymoon.”

“Very true.”

“It does sound like a cute date spot,” Yura adds. “Maybe I’ll get lucky enough to find someone to go with here.”

“Ooh,” Seokjin says. “I’ll share the address with the newlyweds too. They can go on cute dates together!” Seokjin turns back to Namjoon with a pout. “We don’t go on any dates anymore.”

“I’m busy at work, you know this.”

“You can still try to make time like you do with Jimin, at least.”

“I didn’t know you were dating,” Hani says, glancing between them. “Have you been together long?”

Namjoon nearly chokes on his food from the laugh that escapes his throat.

“We’re not dating,” Seokjin answers. “Namjoon’s got his eye on someone else.” Namjoon gives him a questionable look, which he ignores. “As a little birdie has told me.”

Damn Yoongi and his big mouth.

At that moment, there’s some microphone feedback coming from the front.

“Hello?” Yongsun and Jaehwan stand on the stage and Yongsun carefully taps the microphone in her hand. “Hello, everyone. Can you all hear me?”

“Yes!”

She smiles. “Well, I hope you’re all having a good time. We're just about to cut the cake, but, before that, Jaehwan and I have prepared a duet for the new couple for their first dance! I hope you all enjoy it and another congratulations to our brides.”

Jaehwan gives a thumbs up to the DJ in the corner, who gives another in return and starts to play a soft melody. The lights dim and, from Namjoon’s line of vision, he sees Moonbyul stand, bowing to her wife with a hand out to invite her to the dance floor. The two make their way to the middle and slowly start to sway together. Others start to join in too, listening to the soothing music provided by Yongsun and Jaehwan.

Namjoon nods along to the song, along with the many others who stayed at their tables. He takes a glance around, spotting some of the other guests and that’s when he sees you with Wheein and Eric. An automatic grin appears on his face as he sees you. The three of you are holding hands and slowly swaying to the beat with bright, proud smiles as you all look at the lovely couple.

He glances to the side, only to see Seokjin with a smug face. He feels the heat creeping back up his neck and towards his cheeks. Namjoon clears his throat, shifting in his seat from his friend’s eyes. “What?”

“I think you know what.”

“No, I don’t.” He clears his throat once more, feeling it dry up. “Stop staring at me like that.”

“Staring at you like what?”

“Like what?” Seokjin tilts his head in a mocking manner.

Namjoon sighs as he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “You know what I mean.”

“No,” he says in a singsong tone with a higher pitch. “I don’t~” He gives another look to Namjoon, speaking up again, back in his normal tone. “That’s what you sound like right now. You can’t lie to me and you know it.”

Namjoon lets out another sigh. He does know it; he really can’t lie, especially to one of his best friends. Because of this though, he’s going to be teased endlessly. “Do you remember (Y/N)?”

“Of course I do,” he says. “How could I ever forget the person you pined over for the entirety of college and afterwards?”

“Can you please not mention that part?”

“How could I not, though?” Seokjin tilts his head with a little smile that’s nothing short of mischievous. “You never confessed too, so that just added onto the secondhand frustration I had whenever you two were together.”

“Oh my God,” he mutters. “I’m just gonna stop talking altogether.”

“No, no, no,” Seokjin whines. “Please continue, I’ll be quiet.”

“Okay,” Namjoon says with a sigh. “I may… or may not, have ran into (Y/N) a couple of times at some other weddings and the coffee shop—”

“Which is where I got my info—”

He gives him a look, which shuts him up.

“Sorry,” he says. “Proceed.”

“(Y/N) is also here—”

Seokjin squeals, clapping his hands together—unable to contain his excitement. “Where? Where? Where?”

“(Y/N)’s with Eric and Wheein right now.”

“So? Go join them; talk to them, chat ‘em up.”

“Dude, you’re a great hype man,” Namjoon says. “But, not that great. (Y/N) seems busy, I shouldn’t interfere with that.”

“What you lack, my friend, is the confidence.” He pauses. “Do you need some of mine? Because I’d be happy to rub some onto you.”

“No, thank—” Even though Namjoon (halfway) rejected him, Seokjin is already rubbing his hands onto Namjoon’s face and, at that, with a bright smile as he smushes his best friend’s face.

After a couple of seconds, Seokjin pats Namjoon’s face, admiring his ‘work’ for a second. “There. You are set.” He gives Namjoon a little push. “Now go.”

“Now?”

“Of course now; they’re starting to cut the cake and (Y/N)’s gonna be alone.” He makes a shoo-ing motion with his hands. While Namjoon would rather let his anxiety take over, Seokjin’s got a point. Yongsun and Jaehwan have finished their duet; Moonbyul and Heewon have already moved on to cutting the cake, which have taken most of the guests’ attention—even Hani and Yura have moved themselves towards the front (granted, anything with food will draw them in). Better now than never.

Namjoon stands up, straightening out his shirt and tightening his tie. Seokjin gives a thumbs-up and a pat on the butt, before Namjoon sets off towards your table.

He takes long strides with, little to some, confidence. By the time he gets near your table, he stops behind you and lightly taps your shoulder.

You turn around, greeting him with a bright grin. “I knew you’d be around somewhere!”

“You were looking for me?” He tries not to look too shocked.

“Considering how you said you were going to be here… Yeah, I kind of was.” You turn back to Eric and Wheein. “Scootch over, y’all. Namjoon’s got a seat next to me.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Eric says. “We’ll be out of your hair in a second.”

“We’re gonna go get some cake and then we’re gonna go to the bouquet toss too,” Wheein says. “I also have to stop Hyerin from running into the kitchen to get more of the food. Don’t worry though, we’ll be back.”

They both get up, waving you both goodbye, and catch up with the rest of the crowd.

Meanwhile, you turn back to Namjoon. “So, what brought you over?” You lean your chin on your hand. “Was it my sparkling aura you felt the presence of?”

He laughs, responding with a teasing tone of his own. “What else could it have been otherwise?” He shifts in his seat. “Are you having fun?”

“You know me, Joonie,” you say with a laugh of your own. “I’ll find a way to have fun.” You eye him. “Are you having fun? Or are you planning on being anti-social again?”

“Again?” His eyebrows raise. “How dare you. I am an introvert, not anti-social. I came to you this time.”

“Uh-huh,” you say with crossed arms. “This time being the key phrase. Don’t you have other friends?”

“I have other friends.” He pouts. “I came here with Seokjin.”

You gasp. “I haven’t seen him in so long. I need to catch up with him; I miss him.” You poke your head around towards the dance floor, waving to Seokjin—who is currently doing his infamous traffic dance underneath the disco lights.

“Wow. Really feeling the love here, (Y/N).”

You turn back to him with a teasing smile and poke your finger into his dimple that he doesn’t even bother to try to swat away. “I’ve missed you too, Joonie.”

He quickly takes your hand off his face, hoping you didn’t feel the heat that rises to his face.

“We can make plans too,” you say with a nudge. “You know, instead of meeting at all these weddings.”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “That’d be a lot easier.”

“Give me your phone.”

Namjoon reaches into his pocket, easily pulling out his phone and hands it over to you. He lets you tap around on it, until he realizes something. “Wait, what are you doing? I have your number.”

“I’m checking your schedule,” you say. “Makes things easier to plan.” You look up from the screen. “Especially since you’re an important businessman.”

He closes his eyes, in an attempt not to laugh at the ridiculous statement, but the grin on his face gives his emotions away.

You scroll through his calendar, before landing on a date. “I’m free for lunch on Wednesday.” You dangle the phone in front of him. “Think you can make some time for me?”

“(Y/N), I can always make time for you.” He really hopes that didn’t sound as desperate as it did.

However, he doesn’t think you care—as he spots the large grin on your face.

“Great,” you say. “It’s a date.”

Namjoon is unable to say anything, as he’s sabotaged by his own friend.

Seokjin dances his way over, pulling him onto the dance floor. “Need to borrow him, thanks! I’ll catch up with you later, (Y/N)!” He gives a light push to Namjoon, who’s trying to keep up with Seokjin’s dance moves. “How’d it go?”

“We set a date?” He tries to collect his thoughts, but he’s having issues with processing it. “I think?”

“See what happens when you have a little confidence?” He interrupts before Namjoon can answer. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh my God,” he mutters with disbelief. Sometimes, he really can’t believe the amount of confidence that this one man has.

“Now keep dancing, that’s how we’re gonna make our way closest to the bouquet. I’m catching that and no one can stop me.”

“Seokjin, why are you like this?”

“Oh hush, you love me.” Seokjin does a little body wave to skim past the other guests. “Y’all better watch out ‘cause the king is coming!”

February 19th, 2020

Wednesday, 12:30PM

Emerby Eateries

—

Namjoon’s fingers tap against the table, checking his watch for the time once again. He takes another sip of from his water glass, oddly feeling the anxiety hit. Does this count as a date? You did say it was a date, but… is this really a date?

Before he can linger too long on the thought, the seat in front of him is taken—by you. You’re slightly out of breath and, from the sight of your hair being slightly out of place, he can assume you did a small run on your way here before you were any more late than you already were.

“You’re late,” he says with a singsong tone. He picks up the menu, pretending to glance over the options. “You really haven’t changed since college.”

“Tsk, tsk, Joonie.” You brush off his statement with a wave of your hand. “You’re just too punctual. I was just a couple of minutes late.”

“More like ten minutes late.”

“Potato, potato.” You grab your menu, glancing through the appetizers. “Time’s an illusion anyways.”

He tries to stop his laughter, but one look at you and he breaks his fake anger.

“Did you order anything without me?” you ask.

“Of course not,” he says. “I figured you would want to share anyways, so you can decide on what you want.”

“And jack the bill up? I’m not that type of person.”

“Stand down,” he says. “Not what I meant.”

You chuckle. “I’m just pulling your leg. But, seriously, is there anything you’ve set your heart on ordering?”

“Well, the sandwiches look good.” His tongue clicks as he contemplates on his order. “I usually get those whenever I’m here, so I’ll probably get one. Do you know what you want?”

“Not really, I’ve been stuck on the appetizers. Did you want to split one?” You set your menu down, but your eyes don’t leave it. “They got fried pickles and I kind of want to try them. They also have those cheese balls that those mukbang youtubers eat.” You look up at him. “I kind of want to try those, not gonna lie.”

He smiles at the way your eyes sparkle at the thought. “I’m not stopping you, you know.”

“I know, but will you eat it with me? I’ll even pay for them.”

“Damn, (Y/N),” he says with a hand on his chest. “That’s how I know your love is real.”

You let out another laugh at his words and Namjoon couldn’t help but admire how carefree you look. While the two of you were a chaotic duo, the chaos was more drawn out from your side—not really chaos, it was more of your impulsiveness. But, it doesn’t mean he didn’t enjoy those memories with you. In fact, he cherishes them the most from his college memories.

He still can’t believe he let you convince him of breaking into the campus gym’s pool. There was also that time when you two were drunk and you told him you wanted to try rock climbing—at the end of the night, you took an hour to climb up to his top bunk, declared success, and passed out once your head hit his pillow. You also broke into a classroom with him, to explain your theories on how birds work for the bourgeoisie (while the theories were insane, he had to admit you had a really convincing argument, which was probably due to all those essays you had to write).

“Do you know what you would like?”

The server’s question makes him snap out of his thoughts. He looks at you expectantly and you do him the solid by answering first.

“We’re gonna need some more time for the entrees, but could I get a couple of appetizers first?”

“Of course, whenever you’re ready.”

“Okay, so we’re going to start with the fried cheese balls with some fire sauce on the side, along with some fries.”

“Anything to drink?”

“I’m good with water.” You look to Namjoon.

“Uh, me too. Water’s fine.”

You both thank your server before she leaves and turn back your menus when she’s out of sight. There’s a moment of silence as you both deliberate on what to get. Namjoon’s already figured he would just get what he usually does a while ago; his menu is shut and left on the side as he waits for you to figure out what you want. He can only shake his head; you’re still just as indecisive as before.

Light pop music plays in the background and his fingers tap along with the beat. He moves his focus to the window where people continue to pass by on the busy city street. It’s lunchtime, so he expected the foot traffic to pick up a bit (and it did)—which was why he wanted to go a bit earlier. After another moment, he turns back to you, only to see you already looking at him.

“Having fun?” you ask with a quirk of your lip.

“Always.” He leans back in his chair. “You figured out what you want?”

“Yeah, it took a bit but I figured it out.”

When the server comes over again, the appetizers are served and you both order the entrees. You and Namjoon split the appetizers, nearly finishing them until the entrees were ready. Between all this time, you two actually catch up. It’s more than just the casual conversations you’ve had at those weddings—you’re both taking more time to listen to one another (in a more sober conversation) and actually talk about the things you didn’t manage to get to. Next thing you knew, it’s already been nearly an hour.

“Can you believe that we’re actually adults living in this capitalistic society?” You set your glass down. “We’re doing things like paying for bills.”

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s called responsibilities.” He lets out another laugh at the face you make from his word choice.

“Ugh, that’s disgusting. Don’t make me choke.” You take another sip of your water. “You know one way of knowing there’s the transition from childhood to adulthood is attending more funerals than weddings.”

“It seems more like the opposite for us, don’t you think?”

“Oh my God,” you groan. “You’re so right though. The amount of weddings I’ve been attending…” You shake your head, as if to convince yourself the number is lower than it actually is. “It’s kind of ridiculous. Don’t get me wrong, I love all of my friends, but Jesus Christ, it’s like they all had a pact to get married around the same time and decided to leave me out.”

Namjoon sighs, playing with the leftover sauce on the side. “I’ve been to, like, five last year and I’m pretty sure it’s going to keep coming.”

“I really feel you, Joonie. I really do. I have a couple more I have to go to later.” You let out a sigh. “Curse me for being so friendly with others.”

“Haha, this is what you get for being popular.”

“I am not popular; I just happen to be a bit more extroverted than you.”

“More like a lot,” he says. “You definitely used to be a popular kid in high school.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. What’s wrong with a couple more friends?”

“No, no, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s a compliment: people enjoy your company and that’s how you managed to keep the ties you still have…” He pauses. “Like me.”

You give him another teasing smile. “Glad to know you enjoy my company.”

“It’d be awkward if I didn’t, considering I decided to have lunch with you.”

“Oh, yeah, by the way, how long are your lunch breaks?”

“Since I’ve moved up to management, I get more time, so about an hour or so—give or take.”

Your eyebrows raise. “Wow, look at you.”

He tries to suppress the blush from the look you give him.

“And despite all of this,” you continue to say. “You still don’t have your license?”

“Why are you bringing this up again?” He groans.

“It came up organically when I was with Seokjin,” you say. “You know... After he managed to steal the bouquet from Sunmi’s hands.”

“So,” he says with a glint in his eye. “You did talk to Seokjin that night?”

“Yeah, I did. Found out a little bit about what you’ve been doing after college.”

“So you talked about me?”

For the first time today, the blush starts to creep up your face. Namjoon raises an eyebrow at the sight; for once, he seems to have the upper hand. You clear your throat, before taking another sip of your near-empty glass.

“Don’t try to change the subject,” you say. “You still don’t have your license.”

“I-I just never had the time and the office is close to my apartment…” He tries to find the words (excuses, if he’s really being honest). “All of my friends have their licenses, so I don’t see the appeal of getting one.”

“So, what I’m hearing is, you have a uncommitted chauffeurs.”

“Oh my God, (Y/N),” he says with a laugh. “I don’t have that much money yet.”

“Yet. That’s the word to focus on.”

You both laugh again.

“Well, I would love to be your chauffeur anytime,” you say with another grin. “That is if you pay me for gas money.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says. “Thank you for the offer though.”

“It’s no problem.” You let out a sigh, but it’s more relaxed than tired. “I’m serious though. If you need a ride, you can always ask.”

“I know, I know,” he says. He swirls his glass, trying to distract himself before he lets out his next words. “I know I can count on you anytime.”

The sparkle in your eyes returns and Namjoon has to stop his heart from skipping a beat at the sight.

March 10th, 2020

Tuesday, 4PM

Shoreside Condos

—

Hey! Just a friendly reminder to RSVP to our wedding!

We’d love for all of you to join!

See you then!

- Anna Young and Eric Nam

Namjoon squints at the email and its neat, curly font. If he didn’t have Eric’s email saved, he definitely would have thought it was some type of subscription he signed up for and completely forgot about from the words alone.

He makes a mental note to dry-clean his fancy suit before the time comes. Although, realistically speaking, he has more than enough time to do so. He can probably (and most likely will) procrastinate on it.

As he tries to make the mental arrangements, in the background, the television plays on another generic movie channel that doesn’t play anything remotely worth paying attention to (he might make an exception for The Hunger Games though). Rapmon sits on the couch, next to Namjoon, with his front paws and head laying on Namjoon’s legs. One hand pets Rapmon softly and the other hand hovers over his laptop’s keypad as he quickly RSVP’s for the wedding and reception.

Namjoon easily fills it out with one hand, humming along as he taps the individual keys. However, he realizes that there is a problem after submitting the form: he has no ride. From what he can recall, the others probably aren’t going, considering these were two separate friend groups—so there’s no point in asking anyone for a possible ride. Then again, he could always get an uber or carpool with someone else.

He sucks in a breath, praying someone he knew would be on the guest list. Going back to his email, he looks over those who were sent the same email.

While he is acquainted with over half of the people, there isn’t anyone close enough he could ask. Jackson’s most definitely going with his long-time partner and there is no way Namjoon wants to be between the two of them. On the other hand, Amber is probably going with a group of people and he’s not really up for a conversation with a bunch of people he’s unfamiliar with. On top of all that, Eric is very sociable, so there are bound to be guests from all sorts of places (considering the unknown names from the email).

Although....there is another option.

He quickly picks up his phone, scrolling through his contact list. His finger stops as he hovers over your contact. He taps on it, but can’t find the courage to hit any button. The contact photo of you, smiling with a bundle of puppies (from that time you wanted to pet a bunch of puppies at Petco), is what his eyes linger on the most.

While the rational side of his mind knows you would be ecstatic to go to Eric’s wedding with him, the irrational side tells him that he shouldn’t bother you. What if you think he’s just using you for rides? Are you just going to drop him off? Should he invite you as a date? But, most of all, what if you just flat out reject him?

Rapmon senses his master is upset and tilts his head up at Namjoon as his paws start to pat him—at least, his leg—to make him feel better. Namjoon can only smile, patting his head in response as a silent thanks for the attempt to comfort him. However, because of that…

“No!”

One of Rapmon’s paws hits the call button and Namjoon can feel ten years of his life being shaved off as the tone starts to ring.

“Ahhh!!!”

Out of panic, he drops the phone quicker than a hot potato. Luckily for him, it lands on the soft carpet below. He looks to Rapmon, who looks around, panting—without a care in the world, as if nothing was wrong.

But right now, everything is wrong.

Before Namjoon could even pick up the phone, nevertheless hang up, the ringing tone stops and there’s a soft response.

“Hello?”

He stumbles around, trying to grab the phone, but hitting the coffee table with his foot and falling on his ass. “Oh shi—”

“... Hello?”

“Sorry!” he shouts aloud. He quickly puts himself together, sitting back on the couch and leans down to grab his phone. He clears his throat, before speaking. “Hello?”

“Hey, Joonie.” He can hear your grin over the phone. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing much..” He lets a small exhale, trying to calm himself from the embarrassing situation. “Um, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing really?” He hears some clutter as you are shifting the phone on your shoulder. “I’m just at home. You know, doing this and that.”

“Oh, oh. Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you—”

“Namjoon, you can never bother me,” you say. “What’s up though? Not that I mind you calling me a bit out of the blue.”

He opens his mouth, unable to really find the words. “So, uhm… This is kind of stupid.”

“More stupid than you cutting that onion?”

“That was one time.” His eyes close, trying to repress his laughter and the embarrassing memory. “Let it go!”

There’s a laugh on the other side of the line; your laugh is infectious, causing Namjoon to burst into a laughing fit as well.

“Um, okay,” he says. He lets out a sigh. “This is, like, way earlier than I originally intended.”

“Come on, Joonie. Spit it out; it’s just me.”

That’s the problem though: it’s you. But he can’t say that without it sounding weird. His lips twist to try to find the right words. “Do you remember Eric?”

“You mean the guy I met at Moonbyul’s wedding?”

“Yeah, him.”

“Yeah, I remember him. Why?”

“Well, he invited me to his wedding…”

“Oh, good for him.”

“Yeah.. but I was wondering…” Maybe he shouldn’t ask, but he does anyways. “If you could give me a ride?”

You let out a small laugh. “Of course I can give you a ride.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, when is it?”

“It’s in April, which is, like, a month away, but—”

“Considering how I can’t even plan the next day, I’m sure I’ll be able to give you a ride, like, a month later.”

“Well,” he says. He can feel his shoulders tense a bit. “It doesn’t just have to be a ride…” His fingers absentmindedly toy with a decorative button on his couch. “Did you… did you want to be my plus one?”

There’s a bit of silence and Namjoon can only swallow, feeling all the moisture in his mouth.

“... It depends.”

“On what?”

Your response is a bit softer from the original teasing tone you had before. “It depends if you really want me there.”

He relaxes, easily leaning back onto the couch. “Of course I want you there, consider it a trade deal.”

“A trade deal?”

“I get a ride and you get free food?”

You hum a bit into the phone. “I like that preposition, but could I refer to this as a favor?”

“Considering that it is a favor,” he says. “Sure—I owe you one.”

“I’m gonna hold onto that against you then.”

“I’m completely fine with that, (Y/N).”

“Okay, just keep in touch and text me the details when you get the time.”

Before you can hang up, he speaks up once more. “Hey, (Y/N)?”

There’s a bit more shuffling, but it stops. “Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“It’s no problem, Joonie. You can count on me anytime.”

He smiles into the phone for the nth time and looks down at his feet, feeling the blush return. “I know.” He pauses. “I’ll-I’ll text you.”

“You better, Joonie. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

“Bye!”

His phone screen turns black for a second, before returning back to your smiling contact image. His grin grows and he slumps back further into the couch, practically beaming once his body is bully molded with the couch. He turns back to his fluffy boy and plays with his fur, giving him thorough pets. “Such a good boy. I shall retrieve you a treat soon.”

Rapmon barks happily at his spot, continuing to pant as he moves his eyes on the television screen.

Meanwhile, Namjoon gets back to his spreadsheets, minimizing his personal email tab. He manages to do his tasks much happier now that he’s got something to look forward to.

April 3rd, 2020

Friday, 7:30PM

Eric’s Reception

Bright Rings Event Venue

—

“Anyone who knows Eric,” Eddie says. “Knows that he’s very easy-going. He’s able to get along with anyone, which is how he’s able to meet so many people and make so many friends. So, when I first introduced Eric to Anna, I thought this was nothing more than another just friends situation. Little did I know was that I would be standing here… as the best man for their wedding.”

He moves himself closer to the main table, where the bride and groom are seated. “As Eric’s brother—and manager—I did not think that he would be married before me.” The crowd laughs light-heartedly. “Don’t worry, I’m not bitter about it. I’m glad Eric has found someone who’s willing to spend their life with him, especially after getting to know him.” He lets out a small laugh as Eric pouts from his seat.

“Anyways, Anna—” He raises his glass. “This toast is for you. Consider this your official welcome to the Nam family.”

The guests click their glasses with the others, exchanging pleasantries along the way. Namjoon comfortably smiles at you, and vice versa, before drowning a mouthful of the bubbly champagne that you two had previously cheered with. The chatter picks up once again as Eddie sits down next to his date at the main table with the newlyweds. Everyone resumes their conversations, slowly building up to, nearly, maximum volume. Birds of a feather flock together—Eric’s loud personality attracts many other eccentric personalities.

Namjoon takes a look around, taking note of the other guests. There’s a wide variety of people; while some are from college, from what he could recall, most of them are unfamiliar faces and unrecognizable place settings. Although, he should thank Eric for his place setting—many of those at this table are faces he does know.

Jackson and his long-time girlfriend and recently engaged fiance, Hua Yi, were seated (luckily) on Namjoon’s left side and you were placed to his right. On your right, you sat next to Amy Lee and Amber—who were like Eric’s non-biological sisters. You were making easy conversation with the other guests, both familiar and non, as per usual. Maybe it’s due to your presence, but Namjoon has been able to easily converse with others as well.

Jaehyung, another close friend of Eric’s, is currently at the front of the stage to provide entertainment with his guitar. He sings a sweet melody, contributing to the light atmosphere—above all the chatter and light conversation happening.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to play the guitar,” you say, leaning closer to him. “Maybe I should’ve joined the band kids in high school to pick up a little something.”

“Well, I did band…. kind of.” His face contorts, remembering the piano lessons he was forced to participate in due to the school’s curriculum. “But, trust me when I say that it did nothing for me.”

Your eyebrows raise. “Nothing?” You lean in closer, with an elbow propped on your knee. “You almost became one of those famous soundcloud rappers. I think you should give yourself some more credit.”

“Yeah, well, I can only play chopsticks,” he says. “So, were those four years really worth it?”

“Is anything from high school really worth it though?”

You both chuckle as the old memories from high school started to occupy your minds. To think that Namjoon had really spent four years, not knowing what the hell he was doing—only to study for four more years to survive life and work a stable job with a stable paycheck... Time really does just fly.

“Oh my God,” he says. “High school was awful.”

“College was fun though.” You let out a relaxed sigh as you lean back and your eyes nearly sparkle from the fond memories you’d made way-back-when. “That’s the time period anyone would go back to.”

“I would prefer the experience without the debt though.”

“Thank God for scholarships.” You give him a little nudge. “Am I right, Mr. 148-IQ?”

Namjoon rolls his eyes at your words in a playful manner.

Before he can respond back, microphone feedback plays through the speakers, causing most to wince at the sound. Eric and Anna have entered the stage area, nearly blocking Jae—who simply waves at the crowd with his head poking out from behind the couple.

“Hello?” Eric says. “Can everyone hear me okay?”

There’s a collective murmur and he speaks up once more. “Okay, we’re good. Before anything, let’s give another round of applause for Jae!”

There’s a light round of applause for Jaehyung, who gives a big smile and wave. Eric continues to speak after it dies down a bit. “Thank you all for coming once again. We both really appreciate that you took the time to be here for us.”

“Right now, we’re going to have our first dance,” Anna says. “So, we’re gonna slow things down with the musical accompaniment of our very own Ailee!”

Next to you, Amy raises from her seat and makes her way to the stage. You, along with Namjoon, clap for her—cheering her on as she walks towards center stage. She chats a bit with Jaehyung as the two of them start to set up. After a bit, she does a bit of harmony with Jaehyung and, shortly after, the sweet, soft melody of the guitar starts to play.

Anna guides Eric towards the middle of the dance floor, who’s got a grin the size of the entree plates; she places his hands on her waist and hers on his shoulders, leaning into him as the song continues to play. Other guests slowly join them as well, including Jackson and Hua Yi.

In a couple of minutes, you and Namjoon are the only ones left at the table. You two continue to chat for the time being, even as the music changes and time continues to go by. The other guests come and go by your table (even Mark came by, but the thumbs-up he gives Namjoon made him quite flustered); some had left a bit sooner because of prior engagements they had arranged for the next day.

By this point, it’s past three hours—the cake has already been cut and the bar is officially open for the rest of the evening. The loud personalities had just gotten louder as the night got longer.

Yongsun’s alcohol tolerance has been hit as she swings on the stipper pole with a plate of cake in her hands. On the other hand, as the songs started to get more upbeat, Amy abandoned her post at the stage and headed towards the bar—where she’s been doing her own personal wine tasting (and karaoke session). Amber had briefly joined her, before deciding to lead an impromptu concert that may or may not have resulted with her currently crowd-surfing. Jackson is with Peniel… doing whatever they usually do (although, Namjoon definitely recalls Peniel holding very tightly onto a Naked smoothie bottle; something about getting naked at the reception).

The chaos goes on, even with the two of you in your own little bubble. The only difference though… is the alcohol intake as the time had passed. Considering how many glasses you had drowned, along with the ones Amy kept recommending to you and the ones brought by other servers, Namjoon is starting to remember how good your tolerance is. Despite that, you are definitely starting to feel it hit hard all at once. Meanwhile, he’s suffering silently from a mere three glasses.

You drown another glass of your white wine. “Ahh.” You lean back in your chair with closed eyes. “My guy, I definitely cannot drive for a while.”

A giggle spills from his lips as the alcohol starts to flow throughout his system. “I can’t drive at all.”

You laugh along with him; his giddiness is contagious. “Are you drunk?”

“Nope.” He pops the p, giving you a wide beam that showcases his perfect, shiny teeth.

You raise your eyebrows, but don’t say anything. You can’t focus on anything from seeing how red his face is. You can’t resist yourself and lightly tug on his ears—which are also a similar shade—to pull him a bit closer to you. “Joonie, you’re so cute when you’re drunk.”

He feels the blood rush more into his cheeks, but he can’t help his smile growing from the compliment. Even as you’re squishing his cheeks together, he doesn’t pull away from your touch.

“AYO!”

Both of your heads turn towards the stage. Anna’s clearly had her fill of alcohol too. Her hair is in loose curls from the tight updo she previously had. She currently stands on the stage, the mic in one hand and her bouquet in the other; her wedding dress was already ripped—but it looks as if it was chopped with some basic kitchen knife—to a shorter length.

“It’s time for the flower toss!” She waves it around, dangling it in front of the crowd. “Anyone who wants this can come and get it!”

A small group of people start to push their way towards the front as Anna turns her back towards them.

You divert your attention back to the man in your hands. “I’m gonna go.”

“Will you be back?”

“Very soon.” You look dead serious. “Swearies.”

He nods his head (to the best of his ability, considering his face is literally in your hands) and watches on as you head towards the crowd, easily fitting in with the others. He leans his chin into his palm, watching you engage with a bunch of people, who are literal strangers to you. It’s amazing how you can easily and naturally insert yourself into a group of people. He knows he probably looks like some type of idiot, but, right now, you are the only thing that matters.

Back at the stage, Anna counts, leaning back little by little with a swing of her hands. “3! 2!”

Just as she tosses the flowers over her head, Mike yells. “Yeet!”

“Mine!” Peniel calls.

But Matthew gets there first.

“Interception, bitch!”

He knocks the bouquet from its original path. It was almost like a high school basketball match from the way it happened.

Next thing you know, a couple of grown ass men were starting a brawl over an overpriced floral arrangement. Jamie interferes the two, squeezing herself in between the two idiots and easily whacking them, effectively getting them to stop.

“Not the tiddies!”

“Shut the fuck up!” she yells. “This isn’t about you!” With each word, she uses the flowers to hit each of them.

While everyone’s distracted, Jackson rips the flowers from Jamie’s hands. He makes his way over to Hua Yi, easily getting down on one knee. Before he says anything, Hua Yi rips the flowers out of his hands and yells. “We’re already engaged, you idiot!” There’s no harm in it, considering how wide her grin is and the blush that’s apparent on her cheeks.

Eric, eventually, takes over the stage once more—his tie loose and tossed carelessly over his shoulder. Despite it being his wedding, he looks like he’s seen some stuff happen. He stands next to Anna with the mic, which he definitely had to pry out of her hands, and simply sighs as he watches the chaos. “This is cancelled; y’all are banned—I’m calling the police.”

Of course, everyone ignores his empty threat and continues to brawl over the flowers.

Namjoon’s attention is taken away from the scene, as you move past the chaos, and head back towards him. You arrive back with a pout, immediately slouching back in your seat. He rests his chin on the table, inching closer to you with eyes that sparkle like an anime character.

“I didn’t get it,” you whine.

He pouts with you, feeling your pain. “I’m sorry.”

You let out a sigh and proceed to take another shot. A drop spills from your lips, trailing down your neck and Namjoon’s eyes unconsciously follow it.

“Joonie,” you say.

His eyes go back to yours. “Yes.”

“I need ice cream.”

“Ice cream?” His eyebrows furrowed together in concentration and thought. “They only have cake.”

“Then we need to go to the ice cream, Joonie.”

His eyes widen in a comedic size reeling you’re correct. He snaps his fingers, lifting himself from the table, and pointing directly at you. “You are a genius.”

“I fucking know, bro.” You pause as you realize your predicament. “I can’t drive.”

“Neither can I.”

“Not like that,” you say. “I’ve had like…. more than five glasses.”

“Really?” His mouth gaps open. “I lost count after the tenth one.”

“Ten?!” You gasp. “Did I really drink that much?”

“I don’t know, (Y/N). I said I lost count.”

You blink at him, slowly coming to the realization of how much alcohol was actually in your system. “Oh my God.” Your pout returns. “But I want ice cream now.”

He hums, rocking a bit in his chair, like an old man out on the front porch, to find some way out of the complication. His eyes finally met yours. “I think I have a solution.”

Friday, 11:45PM

After Eric’s Reception

Midnight Munchies

—

Your giggle overlaps with the sound of the bell that rings as you two walk into the late-night dessert shop. The workers greet you cheerfully, which you both respond back to. You are looking at the glass that showcases all the different flavors, whereas Namjoon tries to read the menu to the best of his ability—but his squinting shows how bad his vision is at the moment.

Back at Bright Rings, after some common sense had slowly started to come back, you both searched up ice cream places nearby. Luckily, Namjoon found a place that served ice cream at this hour and it was close enough to walk to—resulting in an improvised, evening stroll which was just the two of you laughing at dumb jokes along the way (he may or may not have used some of Seokjin’s dad jokes along the way).

Due to the lesser amount of drinks in his system, he sobered up a bit… On the other hand, yours still remained. But nothing can’t be fixed with a little bit of ice cream (at least, that’s what you said).

“Do you know what you would like?”

Your attention has been turned to the server behind the counter. “Uh, not me.” Scooting closer to Namjoon, you give him a nudge. “Joonie, do you know what you want?”

“I’m not sure,” he says with a slight frown. “What’d you think I should get?”

You let out a small hum as you think, before pointing to the fruit flavors in the middle. “You like fruit flavored ice cream, and you definitely need to try something new, so I say you should get the melon.”

“Okay,” he says with a nod. “I trust you.” He turns to the worker. “Can I please get a scoop of the melon ice cream?”

“Would you like any toppings?”

“Uhh.” He turns to you. “Should I?”

“If you want some, then get some.”

He hesitates a bit. “Strawberries?”

The worker raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Turning back towards the counter, he answers. “Yes.”

He receives his ice cream, waiting as you order yours and pays when you’re done—despite your protests. You two thank the staff and add some change into the tip jar, before heading out to go back to the venue to sober up a bit more.

For a bit, you two are enjoying your ice cream in silence as you walk side by side. You both walk for about a block—his footsteps match yours and yours matches his.

You’re the one who speaks up first. “Thank you for the ice cream.”

“It’s just ice cream, (Y/N),” he says.

“Still,” you start to say. “Considering I practically pushed you into inviting me out—”

“You didn’t push me. I wanted to invite you.”

You look to him, simply giving him a small smile. “Thank you.”

The two of you continue your walk back to the venue, but you abruptly stop and tug on Namjoon’s sleeve.

“What’s up?”

You point to an open park and, with another hand, you lightly shake his arm like an excited child. “Let’s go in there.”

He smiles at the sight. “Okay, let’s go.”

Your eyes gleam at him and you’re practically wiggling with excitement, before you sprint over towards the park gates like a child.

He shakes his head with a chuckle as he follows behind you. By the time he’s caught up with you, you’re already settled underneath a nearby tree with a view of the lake. He heads towards you in long strides and silently seats himself next to you.

You’ve already finished your ice cream—its remains left on the side. Namjoon manages to finish his, which isn’t hard considering how it’s half melted and less cold. White noise plays as you two sit back and relax. There’s a couple of bikers, dog walkers, and other couples that occupy the public space. But, for most of the time, it’s just the two of you in silence.

It’s broken once you let out a loud breath and fall back onto the grass. You shift a bit, trying to make yourself comfortable, and tap the empty space behind him. “Come on, Joonie. It’s just me.”

“Okay, okay,” he says. “Just give me a sec.”

He leans back, feeling the prickly grass brush against his neck, and rests his hands behind his head. You frown from the distance, easily pulling his arm and resting your head on it, scooting closer to him.

His breath gets caught in his throat from your proximity, but he doesn’t move away—almost in a near frozen state as you continue to lean on him. Right now, all he hopes is that you can’t hear how hard his heart is anxiously beating in his chest.

Instead, he tries to focus on the clear evening sky. It would have been nice for the stars to be out, but this is just as fine (although, the view can be done without all the red helicopter lights that pass by).

You let out a sigh, feeling a lot more sober compared to before. “Time is weird, huh?”

“What’d you mean?”

“It’s just—” You pause. “One moment, we’re just college students messing around and now we’re adults, doing things like jobs and going to the post office or something.”

He chuckles. “The post office?”

“Ugh.” You lightly hit him to get him to stop laughing. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh of his own. “I get it. It’s just… we’re grown ups—”

“Ew, please don’t say that.”

He chuckles again. “Look at us though. Could you have even imagined telling your younger self that the most eventful thing you’ve done this week is go to a wedding?”

“Weddings can be fun,” you try to defend. “There’s free food and good music.”

“Good music?”

“Better music than all those cringey ass middle school mixers.”

“You’re right about that,” he says. “I think I’ll die if I hear another remix of a top 40 hit song again.”

“You know which remix I hated the most?”

“Which one?”

“Love You Like A Love Song club remix.”

He lets out a hearty laugh from your answer. “I didn’t know that was a remix.”

“It is and it’s absolutely terrible. They did Selena so dirty.”

“Did they now?”

“Absolutely, Joonie. It’s a fucking monstrosity.”

You look dead serious, which is probably what makes him laugh even harder than before. His laugh dies down to a chuckle. There’s another moment of silence afterwards, the two of you focusing your attention on the calm atmosphere from the silence of the park and the calm waters that lightly splash from a safe distance.

The silence is interrupted as your phone goes off. Namjoon watches as you simply take the phone that was placed next to you. The light of the phone shines against your features briefly before you turn it back off.

You make eye contact with him and he has to turn away, clearing his throat from being caught. “What’s up?” he asks.

“Nothing really,” you say. “I just got a reminder for another wedding I have to go to.” You wave your phone, despite the blank, black scene. “I have to RSVP later… at some point.”

He hums, understanding the situation. Suddenly, you sit up as you shake him lightly, causing him to sit up as well.

“What?” he asks with apprehension.

There’s a glint in your eyes that Namjoon is unsure as to whether or not he likes.

“Remember that favor you owe me?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna come to my friend’s wedding with me?”

He leans back with a hand on the grass, contemplating whether or not he should. Would this count as a date? Nevertheless, an unofficial third date?

He does owe you a favor too…

So, it makes sense for him to accompany you to return the favor.

He finally looks to you, whose head is tilted towards him in curiosity with a smile that shines brighter than the sun and eyes that sparkle more than any star in the sky.

“Come on, Joonie. It’ll be fun.”

“Count me in,” he says. “Consider it a favor being repaid.”

Your smile turns into a beam before you settle back onto the grass with your eyes closed. “Let’s stay here a little longer.” You sigh. “I’m going to keep you for a bit, before I have to share you again.”

He lets out a sigh of his own, but you don’t hear it.

He’s already yours for the taking.

April 18th, 2020

Saturday, 9PM

Tiffany’s Reception

Rosey Pink Palace

—

“I’ve known Tiffany for over ten years,” Jessica says. “I’ve lived with her, worked with her, and that meant learning a lot about her, as a person and a professional. She’s someone who finds the balance between idealistic and realistic. She has been looking forward to finding her Prince Charming and now she gets to have her fairytale ending. I have never seen Tiffany as happy as I’ve seen her with Kaun Yin.” She pauses, looking at the two. “So, let’s raise a glass to congratulate the Pink Princess for finding her Prince Charming.”

The other guests give a light round of applause for Jessica, who gives another wave and smile—before she takes back her seat at the main table. Conversation is sparked once again amongst the guests.

At your table, Namjoon makes small talk with some of the others at the table (mainly those who he’d previously met at Junmyeon’s wedding). Despite the fact that this is your friend’s wedding, which is filled with literal strangers and acquaintances, he’s managed to mingle fairly well without your guidance. But that’s also the reason why he’s been dragged into a conversation with another table—i.e., the table behind him.

“Tiffany and I went out for ice cream once and she basically shamed me for not getting sprinkles,” Evan says. “I’m betting her cake is going to be the most colorful thing in the venue.”

“The pinks aren’t colorful enough for you?” Nichkhun asks with a teasing smile.

Namjoon lets out a laugh. “It’s called the Pink Palace, what other color did you—could you have expected?”

“I thought maybe Kuan Yin would convince her to other colors,” Evan says. He lets out a sigh, swirling his wine glass. “I blame my optimism.”

“If you know anything about Tiffany,” Nichkhun says. “Then you would know that no one could convince her out of something once her mind is set.”

“How long have you known her?” Namjoon asks. “I bet it’s been some time now.”

The handsome man ponders for a bit. “Probably about half a decade now,” he says. “Another one of my friends knew her and… we’ve been friends ever since.”

“That’s a long time,” Evan says. “I’ve only known her for a couple of years. She helped me out with some of my Youtube videos.” He sips on his glass. “She did a makeover for me once.” He turns to Namjoon. “How long have you known her?”

“Oh, I’m just a….” He tries to think of the word. Technically, he’s a date, so he should say date…. right? Something inside stops him from saying so though. “I’m just a plus one.”

“Oh?” Nichkhun says with a tilt of his head. “Of who?”

At that moment, you take back your seat next to Namjoon. You easily settle back in, giving him a smile, before noticing the other two. “Sorry, there was a line at the bathroom. Did I interrupt something?”

“Not really,” Evan says. He points to Namjoon. “Is he with you?”

“Yeah,” you say with a smile. “He’s my date.”

He nearly chokes on his water at your words, but your smile just grows when you look at him. Before he can respond, the conversations come to a bit of a pause as the newlywed wife gets up from her spot, stealing the crowd’s attention.

Tiffany makes her way up the main stage with a bedazzled, pink microphone in one hand and her dress in the other; Kuan Yin follows behind her with a hand holding the rest of her train, making sure she doesn’t trip on her way up the stairs.

“Hello?” She taps on the microphone to double check. “Everyone, thank you so much for coming. We’re so glad you were able to make it. Let’s give one more round of applause for the maid of honor!”

There’s another round of applause for Jessica and, once it dies down, Kuan Yin speaks into the microphone that remains in Tiffany’s hands. “She’s done a lot for us this past month and we’d like to thank her again for her hard work.”

“Right now, we’re preparing for the cake cutting!” she says with a giggle. “Our wonderful servers are getting the cake ready and it will soon be out!”

More light applause breaks the silence once more and, in a second, the two servers emerge from the kitchen with a rolling cart.

On top of the cart is a three-tiered cake, various shades of pink are dotted around and smeared to look like a sophisticated art palette. Edible, at least what Namjoon thinks, glitter is decorated along the side and sparkles in the light. White frosting is decorated on the edges and sprinkles top them off.

Well, Evan was right about one thing; it is colorful.

You lean over towards Namjoon. “I’m betting there’s glitter inside the cake too.”

“I’m willing to get into that bet too,” Nichkhun says.

Namjoon and Evan laugh.

On the other hand, Tiffany and Kuan Yin are already cutting the cake and passing it to the servers, who are immediately placing it on trays to serve to the other guests. You let out a little cheer once yours arrives. Next to you, Bora takes pictures of the slice that sits on her plate, showing them to both you and Na Eun, who’s sitting at her other side.

“I’m glad she got the red velvet,” Bora says.

“Yeah, it fits the aesthetic,” Na Eun replies. “And it definitely screams Tiffany.”

You pick at yours a bit, splitting the cake to see the rest of the batter. “I totally called it. I knew there was gonna be glitter inside!”

Namjoon just shakes his head, before grabbing a hold of his fork and diving into his dessert.

As the cake is cut and distributed, the conversation builds up again and the sugar has started to hit. Your plate is cleared, but Namjoon can’t get past all the sprinkles (which is why they’ve been abandoned on the side of his plate and you took that chance to poke some fun out of him).

In the midst of all the chatter, the newlyweds return back to the stage, along with Jessica, after the cake-cutting—with Taeyeon behind them, who has begun to set up the stage.

“I would just like to thank all the guests, once more, who are here to support Tiffany and Kuan Yin,” Jessica says. “Right now, we have Taeyeon, another bridesmaid, who will be singing the song to their first dance!”

Another round of light applause is given as Taeyeon gives a smile and wave. Meanwhile, Tiffany and Kuan Yin have arrived in the middle of the dance floor, looking at one another with so much love. Namjoon couldn’t help but be a bit envious.

“Congratulations once more to the happy couple,” Taeyeon says. “This song is for you—I hope your happiness will carry on for the rest of your lives.”

The guitarist starts to strum to a soft melody and Taeyon’s soothing voice starts to move throughout the venue. Other guests start to make their way to the dance floor as well, joining the slow dance. Namjoon moves his head along to the calm tune, swaying to it with his eyes closed.

He hears your chair move and he peaks an eye open, only to see you standing with a hand out to him.

“Would you like to join me for a dance?”

“I thought we agreed I should never be dancing,” he jokes.

You pout, putting your hand down. “We’ve been to so many weddings and haven’t danced once.” You put your hand out once more, wiggling your fingers underneath his chin. “Is little Joonie afraid?”

“We both know I’m not the best dancer.”

Your pout deepens and you take your hand away again. He has to stop himself from leaning back to your touch.

“That’s your insecurity talking,” you say. “Besides you don’t know until you try.”

He lets out a sigh, hiding a smile, and wordlessly puts out his hand for you. “Okay, (Y/N). I trust you. Please lead the way.”

Your pout turns back to a smile, easily grabbing his hand and leading him towards the bright tiles where the other guests are dancing.

Taking the initiative, as per usual, you put his hands on your waist and lightly place your hands on his shoulders. He hopes you don’t notice how shaky his hands are, or how much more sweaty his palms have gotten. His heart pounds even harder in his chest from the close proximity.

He let out an exhale, trying to keep it under his breath to avoid hitting your face with his glittery cake breath. Despite being friends for the longest time, Namjoon can’t remember a time he’d been this close to you. There had been a couple of times when you would drunkenly cling to him or the time you asked for a piggyback ride… But he’s never seen you like this upclose.

Under the sparkling lights, he can make out your features. Your eyes shine with excitement and anticipation, but he can’t tell from what. The way the slope of your nose dips is pretty, he notes—he’s never noticed. Your lips… they practically mock him.

He can feel his throat feeling dry again. Where are the champagne flutes when he needs them?

Even as he tries to avoid eye contact, your eyes don’t leave his face. A teasing smile appears when you take notice of his darkening cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” you jib. “You’re doing good. Are you focusing all of your brain cells into your dancing?”

He rolls his eyes at you, but it’s without malice. “Haha,” he says. “You know I didn’t have that many to begin with.”

“You have 148 IQ.”

“Let it go, (Y/N).” He sighs. “Let it go.”

This time you roll your eyes at him, giving him a light shove. “You’re literally so smart. You need to embrace that more.”

“Don’t get too cocky on my behalf,” he says. “I think I got burnt out by the time we graduated.”

“Everyone gets burnt out,” you say. “Whether it’s emotionally, physically… Life has a way of doing that to you.” You lean a bit closer, settling your hands on the back of his neck. “What you choose to afterwards is how you decide its impact on you.”

He straightens up a bit, but doesn’t necessarily move away from you, putting himself in a more comfortable position. “You don’t ever seem burnt out,” he says. “I wish I had that endless energy. I might actually be able to do something productive with my life.”

“Hey,” you say. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Downplaying your abilities.” You let out a sigh. “You did it, not even, two minutes ago. You haven’t even stepped on my foot; you’re going just fine.”

He feels the heat on the back of his neck, hoping you don’t say anything about it. “Not yet, at least. Have you forgotten that tango class I accidentally registered for?”

You grin from the memory. “Considering that we were able to grow closer from it and it was required, not accidental… I have not.” You tilt your head at him. “But did you forget?”

“Forget what?”

“How much you improved by the time the semester ended.”

“I don’t know, (Y/N),” he says. “I didn’t get worse and that was all I was aiming for.”

“Sure, you weren’t perfect, but you were pretty good by the end of it. Admit that, at least.”

“Fine, I was pretty good at it.” He looks directly at you. “Satisfied?”

“Not really, but I’ll take it.”

The two of you sway for a bit, listening to the music and enjoying each other’s company. At some point, you lean against him with closed eyes. He smiles to himself, subconsciously pulling you closer and breathing in the faint scent of your shampoo. Letting out another sigh, he can’t help but think of himself that he could get used to you in his arms.

April 28th, 2020

Tuesday, 4PM

The Roasted Bean

—

“Do you want to come to China with me?”

You choke on your tea. “Shit,” you manage to cough out with.

Namjoon scrambles to pass you the napkins and can only look at you with concern as you continue to cough. He waits for you patiently, expecting this kind of response from you.

When you had agreed to meet up with him for coffee, Namjoon said to himself he was going to plan what he would say to you… cut to the day of and he had planned nothing except, well, that.

Damn, procrastination really doesn’t stop.

“I’m sorry,” you say. You dab the corners of your mouth, trying to wipe off the remains of the tea that spilled from your lips. Your hands settle on the table as you look at him incredulously. “Did I hear that correctly?”

“In hindsight, maybe I should have provided some context.”

“A little would have been nice,” you say with a slight shrug.

He lets out a sigh, shifting in his seat. “I’m going to Jackson’s wedding,” he says. “... which is located in Hong Kong. I made the reservation awhile back, so I took a couple of vacation days to go to it and join them in the festivities. I even got Jungkook to dogsit RapMon, but, then again, that could easily go downhill. But, I thought, you know, since we’re, like, wedding buddies, you might want to go with me?”

“Wedding buddies?” you ask with a raise of your eyebrow. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.” You take another sip of your tea.

“It’ll be fun?” he says with an awkward smile. “Besides, you know Jackson.”

“I’ve met him a couple of times, yeah.” You take another sip from your cup. “I obviously wasn’t close enough to get an invite, but I know him.” You try to think, as if you were pondering the pros and cons. “I do know some people who were going to be in the wedding too.”

“You do?” He shouldn’t be surprised, but couldn’t help the curiosity.

“Yeah, there’s Mark. There’s also Jinyoung and Youngji.”

“Even if you didn’t know anyone,” he says. “It’s not like you won’t make new friends.”

You give him a shy, but proud smile in return. “I do adapt well.” Your eyebrows round from a realization. “Wait.” You give him a confused look. “You were originally planning on going to China…. by yourself?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks with a slight pout. “Is it a bad idea?”

“No,” you say. “Rather the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“How do I say it?” you mutter, more to yourself than aloud. “I guess—it might just be because I know what you’re like.”

“... Elaborate.”

“It’s not supposed to be a bad thing. It’s just that—I say this with affection, okay?” You clear your throat a little and lean back into your seat. “You don’t really leave your comfort zone, which isn’t a bad thing—it’s just a bit surprising that you are willing to leave the comforts of your home.” He doesn’t get the chance to respond; you continue to talk. “But, another thing I know is you’re fierce loyal, so it’s not necessarily that surprising. Even then, it’s a good surprise because this might be good for you.”

There’s a brief pause as he thinks to himself, absentmindedly swirling the remains of his coffee from his glass. You’re right (with both of your points). It’s not that he’s offended, or mad. It’s just that… you’re right. That’s it.

He knows he’s more of an introvert, which isn’t a bad thing—he just takes a bit longer to adjust to new surroundings and unfamiliar people. He’s very self-aware of it rather than self-conscious about it. To be honest, he really didn’t think things through all the way; he couldn’t say no to Jackson, especially considering how close they are with one another. The thought of brushing up on his Chinese also crossed his mind momentarily, but this trip is really more about supporting Jackson and Hua Yi.

“Namjoon?”

He freezes, snapping out of his thoughts. “Sorry, I just, like, spaced out.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just lost in thought.” He clears his throat. “What were you saying?”

“Nothing of that much importance, but—” You pause. “I just think this would be good for you, you know? You’d get some time off from work, get together with your friends, explore a new place, etc.”

“It’s just a week or so,” he says. “It’s not much, but… it’s something.”

“Yeah, but you never know.”

He hums, agreeing with you, as he taps his fingers lightly against the table. The tapping stops. “Wait, you never answered my question.”

“Wait, what was the question?”

He chuckles. “Did you want to accompany me to Jackson’s wedding in China?”

“Well,” you drag out, fiddling with your napkin. “I would need to see all the details, figure out a couple of things, but, overall…” You practically beam at him. “I’d love to.”

May 13th, 2020

Wednesday, 9AM

East Asian Airlines

Incheon International Airport

—

You nearly elbow him as you try to settle into your seat. Your neck pillow barely hangs on your shoulders, as you reach over to adjust the incline and decline with one hand and manage your downloaded playlist on your phone with the other.

“Whoa,” Namjoon says, trying to escape from your flailing arms. “You know this isn’t an overnight flight, right?”

You let out an exasperated exhale that’s far more dramatic than it needed to be. “Joonie, comfort is always a priority.”

“I didn’t say anything was wrong with comfort,” he started to say. “I’m just saying it’s a bit much for a four hour flight that you’re 100% going to fall asleep on.”

Your jaw drops. “The audacity.”

“Am I wrong?”

Your jaw promptly closes at his words, your lips twisting to the side. “No,” you mutter.

He lets out a laugh, patting your head as some type of reconciliation—messing it up a bit. “Sorry, I only speak the truth.”

You grumble in your seat once more, playfully glaring at him with a petty look in your eyes. Without breaking eye contact, you lightly slap his hand away and start to fix the mess he created on your head. “Says the man who told Taehyung he looked handsome after his home haircut, but okay. Pop off.”

His eyes narrow at your sarcasm, but he doesn’t say another word.

While you fiddle with the light and air conditioning functions above, he plucks out an airline magazine from the seat in front of him—in an attempt to ignore the numbness of his long legs due to the small, cramped area he’s been provided.

Curse this capitalistic society and the stupid economy seats.

He flips open a page, glancing through. Most of the pages are promotions for products that no one really needs. There’s also an absurd amount of pillows that they were insisting to be sold. Who needs a pillow that can work as a lap-desk? Or a bendable neck pillow that can be twisted into a hugging pillow? There’s also a pillow that can be folded into a miniature pillow. These are all awful, he thinks.

As he inwardly questions and critiques each product, he fails to notice that you’ve finished settling in, tugging on his jacket to get his attention.

“What’s up?” he asks without looking up. “Finally settled?”

“Say all you want, Joonie, but when I’m napping like a champ, you’ll be restless in your spot like a chump.”

He stifles his laughter, raising his eyebrows from your words, flipping through the pages without actually looking through them. “Okay, (Y/N). Whatever you say.” In his peripheral vision, he can see you pouting from his lack of reaction.

You lean back in your seat, taking another deep breath. “You know, I think this is the first time we’re traveling together, isn’t it?”

“I think it is.” He looks at you. “This is our first trip together.”

“Well, first overseas trip.”

“First overseas trip,” he says with a hum. “You think there’ll be more?”

You smirk. “Only if this one is a success. But, for now, we’re just wedding buddies.”

“Wedding buddies?” He lays a hand on his heart in mock hurt. “We’ve known each other for years and this is what our relationship has come to?”

“You defined it first,” you say with a poke of his chest. “If anyone is to blame, it’s you.”

His lips are pulled back—half frustrated at himself and half disappointed. Before he can retort, the bell has been rung and the attendant’s voice comes on over the intercom.

“All passengers, please take your seats as we are taking off at 9AM sharp.”

Another bell rings and the seatbelt image flashes on. The attendants go around, checking the seatbelts and others begin to start the safety procedures. Namjoon tries to remember it all, but eventually finds himself accidentally tuning out the information. Sensing his panic, you remind him that it’s also in the same pocket he’d been grabbing magazines out of.

After a little while, the plane starts to ascend. Both you and Namjoon wordlessly look out the window, taking in the view as the buildings get smaller and smaller. Once the captain had announced that passengers are now allowed to roam about the cabin (with reason, of course), you lean back in your seat and plop in your other headphone.

“Wake me up when we’re descending?” you ask.

He nods, letting you play your music and close your eyes. About twenty minutes pass and you’re already asleep, But, your neck pillow is still barely hanging on your shoulders. He manages to adjust it comfortably for you, without waking you up—he’d call that a victory for his clumsy ass.

To pass some time, he goes through some more magazines, eventually getting bored of them. He should’ve downloaded a playlist or something; granted, you did nag him a bit to do so at the terminal gate because you didn’t want him being bored on the plane.

As usual, you were right.

He looks over at you once more, before deciding that he should nap too.

If he’s being honest, he was too nervous last night to get any sleep at the thought of spending, nearly, an entire week with you… in an unfamiliar country. He really didn’t think these things through. On one hand, it’s normal to invite long-time friends on trips and go to events together, platonically. On the other hand, he technically had feelings for you. But, he also thought those feelings had died down… until he actually started to talk to you again.

Deep down, he knows the feelings never really died but that’s a conversation he’s not ready to engage in. But, he’s also aware that he’s stupid and lacked the brain cells to even think of the possible cons that would come when he invited you to an overseas wedding...

Sleep, Namjoon thinks. Sleep is great for avoiding problems like these.

He lets out a long sigh, settling into his seat with a close of his eyes.

Yes, sleep is the best solution.

...

Ding. “Passengers, you will need to return to your seats soon as we are close to our destination.” Ding.

As Namjoon starts to regain consciousness, the light from his window that shines on his face stirs him awake. He lets out a sigh, lifting his head from yours as he rubs his eyes. You remain asleep on his shoulder with your headphones still intact, but your neck pillow sits uselessly in your lap.

He’s suddenly awake and aware of your current position. He unconsciously clears his throat, instantly feeling thirsty, causing you to shift a bit closer to him.

The intercom comes on once more. “Once again, passengers, if you could please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts, we’re going to begin to descend soon.”

From the announcement, he lightly shakes you. “(Y/N),” he whispers.

When it doesn’t work, he shakes you a bit harder. “(Y/N).”

You let out a groan from being awoken. “Ten more minutes.”

He shakes you again with a bit of a laugh. “You don’t have ten minutes.”

“Give me ten minutes then.”

“No, wake up.”

“No.”

“(Y/N),” he whines. “Wake up.”

You let out another groan, reluctantly opening your eyes—immediately shutting them from the bright lights of the afternoon sky. “Are we there yet?”

“Nearly,” he says. “Why did you think I woke you up?”

“To torture me?”

“I wouldn’t do that to my precious wedding buddy.”

“Damn,” you say. “Your sass levels are up.”

He laughs in response.

Your conversation is interrupted as the bell rings once again, the attendant’s voice filling the air.

“All passengers, we are descending to our destination.”

You let a small squeal of excitement from the official announcement, leaning out towards the window to take in the new sights. He can’t help but smile at your childlike wonder, moving himself out of the way for you to take in the scenery as the clouds start to part.

“We apologize that there will be a bit of turbulence, so if you may all please fasten your seatbelts for your safety. Once again, we are starting our descent—passengers, we welcome you to Hong Kong. Thank you for choosing to fly with East Asian Airlines. We hope you’ve had a wonderful trip.”

A/N: Thank you for reading the first part of Plus Two! Please do not ask about updates—you can check the upcoming page to check on the status of the second half!

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davidmann95 · 5 years ago

Note

Hey David? Why is ours such a cruel and merciless God?

mirrorfalls said: (If you don't know what I'm talking about, your inbox should be filling up with more specific deets riiiiight about now.)

cheerfullynihilistic said: THE SNYDER CUT

Anonymous said: You don’t seem to think Superman’s public rep will take another beating from the Snyder Cut coming out. Honestly I thought you’d be way more upset than you seemed on Twitter.

Anonymous said: So uhh, against all thoughts and logic the Snyder cut is being released? Maybe as a mini series? Thoughts?

Anonymous said: SNYDER CUT!

Bullies. Jocks. Guys angrily asking if we know who their father is. Assorted dudebro nerd-oppressors of America:

You have failed us. You have failed us so hard. What else do we even keep you around for if not to head this shit off at the pass? Shame on you.

Okay, so seriously: I’m actually gonna put most bitching and moaning under a cut, because I know firsthand there are as many as several non-slavering maniacs out there who dug Man of Steel and Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice and who are simply and entirely reasonably excited that they’re getting this movie after all. I don’t feel like throwing a wall of text at them shitting all over this, so I’ll lead off with I think some fairly even-handed commentary on the real-world circumstances here, rambling speculation regarding the production, and some cautious optimism about the actual movie/s. THEN I’ll get to what I imagine most of you are here to see.

So totally in a vacuum: this is a cool, good thing. I’m the notorious theatrical Justice League-liker, but at best it was a compromised product due to the original creator - who like it or not clearly had an incredibly ambitious personal vision for these characters and their world - suffering a horrific tragedy forcing him off the project, and leaving his final stamp on blockbuster culture and a world he’d devoted years of his life to a flop with his name on it when he couldn’t even truly call it his own anymore. At worst, said tragedy was taken advantage of by suits to ditch him in the home stretch so as to try and shove out something ostensibly more marketable. But now because of a...very loyal fanbase, the man’s getting the opportunity and resources to rise like a phoenix and see at least some of his vision through in a huge way. That’s pretty remarkable.

Not in a vacuum this is fucking horrifying. I’ve already seen folks poo-poohing the reflexive fears that this will ‘set a precedent’, and they were right enough that I deleted my initial tweet on the subject because I didn’t think I could express my own opinion with any nuance in the space of 280 characters. Yeah, nerd whining definitely shaped Rise of Skywalker (another movie I enjoyed in spite of the circumstances of its creation). Hell, Sonic the Hedgehog crunched its CGI team prior to unceremoniously firing them to redesign his model thanks to outcry. That’s already a market force, and just to be clear upfront, if we can’t agree the predominant mode of operation for #ReleaseTheSnyderCut has been a toxic nerd harassment campaign when they spammed posts memorializing deceased actors and chased Diane Nelson off Twitter, we’re not gonna be able to have this conversation. And director’s cuts are you may have noticed also already a thing. But this isn’t changing direction on a project that’s already going to exist no matter what, this is turning back 3 years later on a commercial flop and dumping tens of millions of dollars into it, explicitly in response to that harassment campaign. It’s not *actually* going back and, say, remaking The Last Jedi, but by god to the naked eye it’s gonna be as good as for plenty of fanboys, and probably to some shortsighted execs as well. This is a new thing, and in this context it is a very, very bad one. Hopefully one that won’t amount to anything.

As for the movie itself: what the hell is this thing going to end up being? I assume with this sort of cashola being pumped into it we’re not getting any slapdash greenscreen or storyboarded sequences, but four hours? Is it really just going to be an expanded and revised version of what we saw in theaters, or is this including content that would have been in the originally planned Justice Leagues 2 and 3? My understanding is that those were already compressed into a single Justice League 2 before plans collapsed altogether, were they maybe filming side-by-side and this’ll be the whole shebang? If not is Snyder going to hedge his bets and end this on a clean note, or keep it ending on a cliffhanger in hopes HBO will throw another $250 million his way to keep going? Does DC want to keep going? Would they give into fan pressure on releasing after all what was widely publicized as the first film of a duology or trilogy with dangling threads if they weren’t going to be at least watching the numbers to see the feasibility of returning to this in a bigger way? Not that I think WB execs would piss into Snyder’s mouth if he were dying of thirst at this point if he simply asked to be able to do Justice League 2, but if he floated that if they instead just give him a liiiiiiiitle more money he can finally deliver unto them their very own Avengers - one that they can work on even during quarantine since it’s mostly just VFX work left - and hey if it works out he’s got a sequel or two cued up and ready to go? Maybe they look at their scattered plans and say the hell with it and end up giving this a theatrical release and sequel with Snyder holding the reigns again if this ends up a killer app; stranger things have happened, if not many, and somehow this is already happening in the first place after all. Alternatively, if this succeeds, could they go “thanks and good on ya, totally do another, but it’s gonna be an HBO exclusive so you’re only getting a hundred million, figure it out”? Would Ben Affleck return? How much reshooting will he be willing to commit to even for this? And most importantly, since this is potentially going to be serialized as six ‘episodes’, will We Got This Covered count this as another ‘win’ since their bullshit rumor mill algorithm spit out “Justice League HBO TV show” recently?

As for the project itself: I ain’t subscribing to HBOMax for this bad boy, but once it becomes more widely available I can’t claim I won’t probably watch it. It’s basically a new movie about the Justice League, and if there’s anything I WOULD wanna see Zack Snyder do in the DCU, it’s the movie finally moving past pseudo-realism (aside from some of those dopey costumes) and leaning all the way into godlike superbeings bludgeoning each other through continents. I absolutely wanna see his aesthetic take on the Green Lantern Corps, and New Genesis, and time travel, and all the other weird promises of where his movies were going to go climaxing in a ridiculous super-war across all spacetime. It’s the same reason J.G. Jones was an exciting choice for Final Crisis before he had to leave, seeing a guy known for his work in an ultra-real grungy superhero style starting there and building up to seeing his version of absolutely wild cosmic spectacle. And no, to respond to one of the initial asks, I’m not worried about the impact on Superman. Everyone seems to have accepted this is its own distinct thing whether they like it or not, I think him getting to complete his ‘arc’ will quiet down many of the folks who like to yell at every other version as retro nonsense since now they’ll be able to be smug about having had the best take rather than pining for a lost finale, and I’m not interested in further Superman movies at the moment anyway with Superman & Lois in the pipe (which I was originally paranoid would be endangered by this when rumors first started floating, but if it’s been brewing since November then if they wanted to strike that down to ‘make room’ according to their Byzantine ever-shifting rules, they would have by now). Far as I’m concerned, as long as the other DC movies get to keep doing what they’re doing during and past this - even Pattinson in his corner, however that works - then totally let Snyder work out all his Wagnerian superhero bullshit for another flick or two. If nothing else, maybe we’ll learn what the hell that diagram up there is supposed to mean. And a plea I want to clarify upfront is wholeheartedly sincere: we’re already down the rabbit hole, so let Snyder to literally whatever he wants with his non-theatrically released Justice League. Zero input or veto power from outside parties. If he wants Flash to hang dong or Superman to say fuck or Batman to learn he’s Steppenwolf’s secret dad or Cyborg to learn he needs to eat babies to fuel his machine parts, let him go for it. Whole point is this is now his thing for people who want his thing.

Okay, beneath the cut the filter comes off, so go ahead if that’s your jam.

Hahahahahahaha this is gonna be such a fuckin’ shitshow you guys, Jesus Christ.

They’re giving the dude who did BvS and wants to make an Ayn Rand adaptation someday $30 million to take another crack at this monstrosity! 30 goddamn million smackaroos for four fucking hours of by many accounts roughly the same basic movie, except now presumably with what little coherency, fun, and clean character work the theatrical cut managed to pull off excised in return for weighty staring, ponderous pseudo-philosophical musings, hackneyed symbolism, aimless mythology teasing, and Steppenwolf I understand being decapitated by Wonder Woman at the end rather than taken back to Apokolips. I didn’t even spoiler mark that shit because don’t you dare pretend you care about the fate of Steppenwolf. I won’t have it.

I used to wonder if I was indeed missing the forest for the trees with these movies, that I was so inflexible in my personal image of these characters - even though I appreciate plenty of alternate takes on them and even some stories that bend or break what I consider their ‘rules’, just not these - that I was incapable of grasping or appreciating these films on their own merits as works of art using those archetypes in wildly different ways; even I could see there were good moments and interesting ideas on display despite seemingly failing to come together. No matter how much I personally deconstructed how and why it wasn’t working, I couldn’t do it to my own satisfaction to the point of stamping out that niggling little worry with how many folks whose opinions I respect love ‘em. Until I finally remembered that the Cadmus arc of Justice League Unlimited is totally the same basic story as BvS, centrally driven by an even worse take on Superman, and that’s still one of the best superhero stories of all time. These just stink by any merits, and while I think Justice League absolutely has the potential to be the most *entertaining* of the bunch, it’s not going to magically become *good* in the eleventh hour. Not to lift up Joss Whedon of all people as some kind of savior, I’m on the record that my love for Justice League as-is is some kind of inexplicable alchemical accident, but I promise that there is not going to be one single addition to this movie that’s going to make up for the removal of “Just save one person”.

Also I’m already not looking forward to dudes tweeting “whoa, he’s splitting it up into a serialized narrative, reflective of the sequential nature of the characters’ primitive native pictorial medium! Or mayhap in ode to the pulp film adventure serials which inspired those in turn! Even the Justice League children’s cartoon for dumb babies, which was itself...made up of episodes! That’s three references in the structure of the thing alone! The man’s operating on an entirely different level!” “God, isn’t it amazing how much better he understands the source material than you”, they shall say, about a man who I understand just very confidently referred to Doomsday in his livestream as having destroyed Krypton in the comics. Again, don’t you say they won’t, just the other day I saw folks tweeting they just realized that since Jor-El wears armor over his bodysuit that technically means Superman’s whole costume is underwear which means Snyder’s totally honoring that without putting him in ugly dumb red panties so checkmate, dorks.

(Okay, in fairness, I know Snyder was saying that’s his take on what happened to the moon in the past of the movies and maybe I only misheard that he thought that also happened in the comics, and it’s trivial information anyway. Still sucks though, that seeming out-of-nowhere Jax-Ur shoutout was like the one thing I liked about that otherwise interminable Krypton sequence. And why is there a second Doomsday? You did Death of Superman already!)

And further SPOILER thoughts below on the reported plots of 2 and 3:

It’s also an amazing, perfect sort of narrative synchronicity that the hypocrisy of Man of Steel in presenting Superman as a savior would (will?) be matched by the movies also rejecting that promise long-term. In there, Jor-El’s musings on the capacity of every living thing being capable of good, the closest the film has to a singular moral statement, are proven wrong when Zod has to be put down like a mad dog, and rather than the one who’ll bring us into the sun, Kal-El’s presence draws ruin from beyond the stars to our world. And again in BvS with Doomsday. And again in Justice League 1-3, where in spite of claims by Snydercutters that it’s okay for Superman to be a really lousy take on Superman because it’s totally supposed to take several movies after putting on the costume and calling himself Superman, including his own death and resurrection, for him to really, like, become Superman, man, he remains a liability to the end. His death lures in Steppenwolf, the Kryponian matrix in his genes is Darkseid’s goal, he becomes the villain of the first act of Justice League 3 - possibly of his own free will depending on which version you’ve heard about - and at the final showdown, it’s Batman who sacrifices himself to stop Darkseid and save the world and inspire the rise of superheroism, because Batman, you see, rules, whereas Superman, stay with me here, drools. A letdown given BvS was just about the one major story of the last 30 years to unambiguously conclude Superman is better than Batman, but not a shocker. None of what I understand goes down in these - iconography from the likes of Fourth World, Crisis on Infinite Earths, Death and Return of Superman, Rock of Ages, Final Crisis, and Injustice reused but stripped of all context and thematic weight that gives it meaning (even Injustice is built on the premise of having a ‘good’ Superman to contrast the dictator); Lois being the ‘key’ because of her connections to two men, one she married and one she bears; time travel that even by the very generous suspension of disbelief applied to it in a genre like this operates by two obviously completely different sets of rules in its only two uses, and is then used to write the entire second movie of the trilogy out of continuity in the first act of the third, making one and a half of these movies pointless - is shocking. It’s just more empty notions and unfulfilled promises offered up to a fanbase staking everything on the idea that all the tampering, all the wild swings, all the meandering, it’s all building UP to something, not possibly just a dude who doesn’t understand these characters but wanting to look very clever with them before building up to one more rad punch-up. So yes, make these movies. Let what can be gleaned from them as worthwhile be revealed, leave the rest of it up for examination to be judged as it deserves and let it, finally. Finally. Be done.

#Justice League #Snyder Cut #Zack Snyder #DCEU #Worlds of DC #Superman #Man of Steel #Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice #Superman & Lois #DCTV #Analysis #Opinion

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ahgasescenarios · 5 years ago

Text

Corrupting the Innocent Pt. 5 (final)- Dong Sicheng

Word count: 2.2k

Genre: fluff/smut

Plot summary: In which (Y/N) decides to “help” innocent exchange student Sicheng win over his crush. Except she has ulterior motives and Sicheng is too clueless to notice.

a/n: hi loves!! I hope you enjoyed this last part and the series more generally, I honestly worked so hard on this one. I hope you’re all staying safe and don’t be shy to pop in my inbox with requests or just to chat, I’d love to talk to you guys xx

You lay in bed for what seemed like an eternity, ignoring the pleading cries of your stomach or your body aching for movement. Is this what heartbreak felt like? Why did people go through with relationships if it always ended like this? You kept picturing scenarios of Sicheng and you, daydreaming of what could’ve been and it did nothing to improve your state. What was it that had made you care? You blinked back a tear before it sunk in that this wasn’t you, you didn’t mope around waiting for life to happen.

If you want things done right, you have to do them yourself.

That was one of the only things you had learned from your adoptive parents, that and how not to raise your own children if you ever had any. You freshened yourself up, masking your dark circles and damaged skin with some makeup.

A friendly face was just what you needed, you thought as you looked over at Rosé and a few other friends sitting across from you at the same café Sicheng had taken you to what seemed like forever ago.

“Any luck with Jaehyun?” You directed at Rosé.

“No, turns out Johnny is more my type and we’ve got ourselves an arrangement so, it’s a win-win.” She smiled; you had noticed this new glow about her- perhaps he was as good of a fuck as you had heard? Nevertheless, you were happy for her. She looked good, happy. It was a good look on her.

You made small talk until your drinks arrived and you melted in the comfort of a warm mug of coffee, it did wonders to your soul. You felt eerily out of touch with reality, present but not really. You felt out of place, out of sorts and it was so foreign, so weird. Just as you recollected the last exchange you had with Sicheng, your eyes landed on a side profile you knew all too well. He was with his friends as well, at the other end of the café.

You were staring, and eventually, he was too. It proved suddenly quite difficult to breathe when his eyes met yours and you retreated to the bathroom to regain your composure. These feelings were all so new, so foreign that you honestly didn’t know how to handle any of them. It felt as though they were all lurking over your shoulder, a second away from crashing over you. You’d never felt like this about someone and yet you’d been doing this backward, breaking up before you were even together. One look in the mirror told you you were far from being okay, but you took a deep breath and any trace of Sicheng was long gone by the time you got back. It was for the best, you guessed.

You chose to prioritize sleep and homework for the remainder of the semester albeit there were only a few weeks left in the term. It proved to be a difficult task as the sheer volume of your notes mocked you, you’d never get everything done in time. You almost agreed with them but giving up sleep proved successful as you handed in all papers on time and completed exams okay enough.

Occasionally, you’d bump into Sicheng in the hall, but he’d avoid your gaze and be on his way. You didn’t allow it to put a damper on your mood. Funny enough, you hadn’t felt the need to seek out someone new after him, it wouldn’t be the same and the idea didn’t ignite anything in you as it once had. Besides, your partner in crime had somewhat settled, why couldn’t you do the same?

Some of us are getting drinks to celebrate end of term, you in?

Your eyes looked over Rosé’s text over and over again, debating whether this was a good idea or not. You ended up giving in to the devil on your shoulder beckoning you to “have some fun!”. It was just a few drinks with friends, what was the harm in that?

Once you saw what you were working with, you gasped. Your skin begged for a skincare routine; one you had discarded after everything that had happened. It only took an hour and what felt like two inches of makeup to make you look, and feel, decent-looking. You went back to that section of your closet and pulled out a relatively slutty dress (if there was such a thing). Now you were ready.

On your first drink, you bantered with your friends. You were all exhilarated to have some freedom once again, no longer chained to the boulder that was university. The second drink had you starting a game of truth or dare.

“Rosé, truth or dare?”

“Hmmm, truth.” She always went for truth.

“Is Johnny THAT big?” The curious girl licked her lips in anticipation and Rosé chuckled, as though recalling a funny anecdote.

“Oh, yes sweetie. But that D is mine.”

A few turns later, you were the one under spotlights.

“(Y/N), truth or dare?” Jennie was the one asking the question, part of Rosé’s close circle of friends.

“You know what, dare,” Jennie smirked, an agenda of her own.

“I dare you to call Sicheng, right now.”

You nearly choked on your drink.

“I’m gonna need a few more drinks first.”

“Promise?” She inquired and you reluctantly nodded, “Fine, then I dare you to down the rest of your drink.”

That you could do. You prayed Jennie would forget about her initial dare, but you were out of luck. A few shots later, here you were, dialing Sicheng’s number. You hadn’t planned what you were going to say, but you were too drunk to even care now. Besides, what did it matter?

“Hello?” A voice thick with sleep answered back. Oops, you hadn’t considered the time.

“Hiiii.”

“(Y/N), why are you calling me?”

“Because,” you pouted “I miss you. And I’m sorry.”

“You’re drunk.” Deep sigh.

“But I mean it, Sicheng. I really really like you and I know I ruined everything, but I just wanted you to know that.”

“Where are you?”

“Take care Sicheng, I’m sorry I’m such a shitty person. I wish I wasn’t. Bye.” You hung up after a few attempts, the buttons on your phone blurring before your eyes. The girls giggled and applauded your courage. Only Rosé looked back at you with a concerned look on her face.

“Wake up.” You opened your eyes, excruciating pain in your entire body. Oh god, you had fallen asleep on the sidewalk. When had you ever gone outside to begin with? Desperately trying to piece together the how and the when, you were clueless as to whom the voice belonged to.

“Come on, I’m taking you home.” Wait, you knew that voice.

“Sicheng, what-“

He shushed you, motioning for you to hop on his back so he could carry you home. You complied; this was probably the last time you’d get to touch him, might as well make the most of it. You couldn’t believe this would be the last image he’d have of you, what a joke.

It hadn’t been hard for him to track you down, there were only a few bars the uni students visited and lucky for him, you had been at the first one he had burst into. Why he had gone looking for you in the first place, he didn’t know. Maybe it was that seeing you had reminded him of your times together and as furious as he was with you, he knew you. And he knew why you would think that sex was your only gateway to love. Maybe that was why he was now sitting your bed, braiding your hair to keep it from getting in the way in case you were a puke-until-I-pass-out kind of drunk.

“Wait- can you stay?” You looked up at him with pleading eyes. How could he resist? You looked so desperate and sweet, for him. He opened the covers for you, and you snuggled up against him, reveling in the feeling of his warm body against yours. He laid there, unsure of what to do and ended up falling asleep too.

You opened your eyes groggily, your head felt like it had construction workers doing their harshest work up there. You had taken one too many shots the night prior, that much you could tell. Only then did you feel warmth from the other side of the bed, and in fact, you were met with the sight of a sleeping Sicheng. You laid there in shock for as long as it took Sicheng to wake up and face your bemused visage.

“Morning.” He half-smiled. He had slept like a baby, ironically the last few months had been ridden with insomnia up until now.

“You’re still here.”

“I am.”

“Why?” Your voice gave away your shock.

“Well, you did ask me to.” He paused, sitting up. “And I figured you had punished yourself enough. What you did was horribly wrong, (Y/N), but I feel like I know you enough to understand why you felt that was the only way you could do things.” You gulped.

“And honestly, I missed you and I just want to start over.” He stretched his long limbs lazily.

“I’d love that.” You smiled from ear to ear.

“On one condition.” He pointed an accusing finger in your direction, and you tensed in your seat. “There’s still one thing you haven’t taught me yet.”

He took hold of your hand and placed it on his morning wood. Your eyes widened. Oh, that’s what he meant.

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me wait longer, (Y/N), I’ve wanted to fuck you ever since I laid eyes on you.” The foulness of the words spewing out of Sicheng’s mouth only aroused you further and you were quick to do something about it.

You rid him of his boxers and licked your lips at the sight of his shaft. You kissed his tip, trailed your tongue down to his base, earning a hiss from above. Once you had him thrusting up in your mouth begging for more, you decided it was enough teasing. This time.

“Sit up.” He obeyed your command.

You took off your panties and crawled back to him. He looked so handsome, exposed for you like this and with as much carnal desire as you. It was a sight you’d vow to keep engraved in your mind forever. He brought you in for a kiss, his eyes glowing with awe of your naked form. You motioned to sit on his dick but you were interrupted mid-way.

“Wait- I want to do something for you too.”

This piqued your interest and you guided his fingers along your folds and he experimentally brought them in and out, awaiting further instructions. Your moans proved to be more than enough as he maintained a steady rhythm, holding back a confident smirk.

“Fuck, (Y/N), look at you. Such a moaning mess for me.”

Oh, and he was a talker, that you could get used to. He kept this up for a little while, until:

“I don’t mean to rush anything, but can I fuck you now?”

You chuckled, even now he was such a gentleman asking for permission. You squirmed out of his touch and quickly sunk down on his dick, giving yourself a second to adjust to his size. His hands found your ass and he made it clear he wanted you to move. And you did, slowly at first until Sicheng grew tired of your pace and flipped you over so he was on top.

“Don’t be a tease.” His only justification.

You hadn’t taken him for a dom, but then again you had been wrong about a lot of things. For his first time, he was exceeding expectations. He connected your lips in another heated kiss silencing another one of your moans and kept up his relentless pace. Your hand reached down to massage your clit and you were surprised to see him take over for you, his thumb doing wonders to your bundle of nerves as he explored your body. Your soft voice bellowing requests every so often had him becoming an expert in no time. Before long, you were moaning out his name, clenching around his shaft as you chased your high. Sicheng hissed at the feeling, your walls tightening around him nearly sending him over the edge. A panicked expression took over his features.

“Where do I-“

You pointed to your stomach and he moaned again, releasing his hot load all over your naked body. You got cleaned up as he rode out his orgasm, dazed by the pleasure by the time you came back. Your fingers played with Sicheng’s hair lovingly, now cuddled up in bed.

“How did I do?” He asked, a tang of innocence still present.

“Not bad at all. I think we should do that much more.” You paused. “You know, to practice.” You teased and this earned a laugh from the boy beside you, you couldn’t help but join in. Your love story was far from normal, sure, but you were happy. And you’d like to think that Sicheng was too.

____________________________________________

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

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what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years ago

Text

CSI: Rogers and Barnes- The Serious Cereal Serial Killer

Episode 5- Defrosting

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Episode Summary: So nothing like the possibly one time love of your life being hurt to make you realise that actually, you might just care a little bit… Episode Warnings: Bad Language words.

Episode Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark (The Ice Queen is thawing…)

Song for Episode: For What It’s Worth by Liam Gallagher

A/N: This entire series contains dark humour (CSI + Brooklyn 99=CSI Steeb) Avengers and Stark Spangled Banner Easter Eggs and jokes. You don’t need to have read the SSB series to understand or enjoy this, but we’ve used the Universe to spin this off from so somethings might puzzle a few of you if you ain’t, but feel free to ask.

Also, our knowledge of American Policing and Brooklyn is limited, so bear with us if we slip up, but at the end of the day this is a fiction so we’ll claim any mistakes as creative license!!

As always we live for re-blogs and comments

CSI Rogers and Barnes Master List

Main Masterlist

“I’m so sorry for your loss…” Bucky bowed his head as he stood next to Steve’s mom.

She dropped her eyes to the floor taking a deep breath.

“I’m alive, jerk.” Steve shot back from where he lay on the hospital bed.

“I was talking about the car, punk.” Bucky shrugged “Or the beard. Man you look like 12 years old without it.” “Not like I had a choice.” Steve grimaced pointing to the line of stitches in the corner of his mouth “And is my car really totalled?” Bucky grimaced and nodded “Fraid it looks that way.” “Shit.”

“Language.” Sarah looked at her son. “Steve, it’s just a heap of metal…”

“No, no bad move, he loved that metal.” Bucky shook his head.

“He should be grateful he is getting away wit cuts and bruising.” Sarah narrowed her eyes “Could have been a hell of a lot worse, he’s been in an out of consciousness for almost 5 hours! I mean what was that idiot doing running the light?”

“It happens Ma.” Steve said gently “He’ll get dealt with.” He rubbed his shoulder which felt a little stiff and then looked up as the Doctor that had been looking after him returned.

“Ok Mr Rogers…your recent scan results show there’s nothing going on with your brain…” Bucky sniggered and Sarah slapped him around the back of the head. “Owww.” he said, reaching up to rub at his hair.

“So if you have someone at home with you, I’m happy you can be discharged.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him for the rest of the evening” Bucky nodded. The Doctor smiled and set about sorting out the forms and in a little while they were making their way, albeit slowly, out of the hospital.

Steve was grateful to his ma and Bucky for getting him home. Once his mother had stopped fussing as much as she could do she finally left with the promise of returning in a few hours and Steve went straight to his bed after popping a few painkillers. He was lucky, it was bruising more than anything, and a few stitches to his face where the glass from the car windows had cut him but all in all nothing too drastic.

He couldn’t help but think back to the last time he’d been injured enough to land him in hospital. They’d been on a drugs bust down town and had gotten separated, and thanks to a catastrophic coms failure he had been ambushed by 6 of the gang at once. He’d managed to get the upper hand at one point until someone had crashed him straight round the back of the head with a piece of wood. Thankfully, it hadn’t been too serious and Katie, Natasha and Clint had stormed in a few seconds later and it was all locked down. Katie had been by his side in the hospital for hours until Peggy had turned up and dismissed her, rather curtly actually. Katie had bitten her tongue and simply left with no fuss, and he and Peggy had ended up having a huge argument.

“I’m your girlfriend, Steven, not her.” Peggy crossed her arms and glared at him as she sat in the chair. “It’s ridiculous how much she hangs around you.” “Peggy, for god’s sake.” he groaned “She came in the ambulance with me!”

“Why not Clint, or Natasha?”

“Oh, you know what, I don’t want to do this now. My head hurts and, well, frankly I’m sick of having the same discussion. She’s my best friend.” “She wants to be more than your friend Steve.” Peggy sighed “Ever since her and Ward split she’s been hanging around like a bad smell.” “She needs support.” Steve shook his head

“She has a brother and god knows how many friends.” Peggy shook her head “But you were the one she called to help her kick Grant out, you changed all her locks…”

“Peg, she’s hurting, and I’m not gonna turn my back on her. She wouldn’t do it to me.” “Bet she can’t wait to get me out of the way.” Peggy sniffed, pursing her lips. “Soon as I’m off to London you mark my words…” “Oh stop being ridiculous.” Steve closed his eyes “Katie wouldn’t do that. And I wouldn’t do it to you either, you know that.” Oh the irony. In the end it had been Peggy that had done it to him. She’d departed to London for the 6 month placement, and they’d both agreed to stay together, what was 6 months after all when you wanted to spend the rest of your life with someone and they wanted to spend the rest of theirs with you?

Or you thought they did. Less than a month later he had received the message, telling him that it wasn’t working, that she thought he was a burden and a tie to a life she wasn’t sure she wanted anymore. He’d tried calling, even debated getting a flight over to speak to her face to face but she’d point blank refused to even consider it, telling him if he turned up she wouldn’t see him.

So it had ended and he and Katie had navigated their heartbreak together. In bars, taking weekend trips upstate, hiking…anything that took their mind off things. And he dare say now, in hindsight, that it had brought them even closer. He understood now that he and Peggy were never going to make it. They were too different. Peggy was practical, realistic, stoic in every area of her life whereas Steve, whilst all those things when he needed to be, also had a softer side, showed his emotions, wore his heart on his sleeve.

Like Katie.

Breaking up with Peggy at the time had killed Steve, but now he realised that it was for the best. But he also knew that it had really tainted his views of relationships in general, even almost a year or so down the line. And the only person he had been close to since he had pushed away.

With a groan he lay back on his pillow and closed his eyes, thankfully the codeine did its job and he slipped into a dreamless, painless sleep.

****

“Guys…” Bucky said loudly over the chatter in the briefing room. Everyone turned their attention to the front and he noticed a few puzzled glances. It wasn’t unusual for a Sergeant to take the mid-morning briefing in any other Precinct, but it was unusual in the 101. Steve liked to see his troops in the morning, he felt it was only fair. “Captain Rogers won’t be in today, and probably not for a little while. He was involved in a car accident last night and…” “An accident?” Wanda spluttered out. “Is he ok?”

“He’s fine. The car that hit his wasn’t travelling that fast it just unfortunately hit the driver’s side. They checked him over at the hospital and decided he was good to go home late last night, or earlier this morning even. Few cuts and bruises, no doubt some injured pride and his car most certainly isn’t ok but…he’s good, just needs to rest.” He couldn’t help but glance at Katie who was looking down at the table as she bit at her thumbnail. Her brow was furrowed and he could see in her face she was concerned but trying not to show it. Bucky didn’t say anything, simply carved up the duties. Whilst the murder investigation was taking most of the resource, there were still the other crimes to cope with and as such he ended up sending Clintasha to go and speak to the victim of a mugging. But for him and Stark, the morning was slow, real slow. She had already called through to Peralta and arranged for them both to head over there the next morning once he had been able to pull the files from the archive but until they didn’t have much else to go on.

“I just hope looking at the old case throws something up.” Katie said, looking at him “Because if not, we’re dead in the water. No leads, nothing…”

“Let’s worry about that tomorrow.” Bucky said. “Look, why don’t you finish for the day? There’s really nothing we can do now.”

“I just got a few bits to tidy up and then I might do, thanks.” she looked back at her screen.

Bucky kept one eye on her as he continued clearing the admin from his inbox, and he could see that she was grappling with something.

“Have you errr…spoken to Captain Rogers?” she asked a few minutes later. Smiling to himself, Bucky looked up.

“Careful, Stark!” Bucky smiled “You almost sound like you care.”

She scowled, “I’m not a completely heartless bitch.”

“I never said you were…”

“Just because I hate him doesn’t mean I want him hurt…”

At that, Bucky almost fist pumped the air when he realised that actually this could work in Steve’s favour somewhat.

“You don’t hate him.” he said, matter of factly, looking at Katie. “You hate what he did, but you don’t hate him. And that’s what you find so hard to take about this entire situation.”

She paused, open mouthed for a moment, before she snapped her jaw shut and folded her arms, glaring at him. “What are you my therapist now?”

“No, just someone who the pair of you are starting to really piss off…” he sighed and ran a hand dramatically through his hair “Did you ever stop to consider exactly why Steve did what he did?” “Because he’s an ass hole.” Katie said, “He got what he wanted and then…”

“You and I both know that’s bullshit doll face.” Bucky said “He’s never been one for one night stands. Had a few at Uni but, well, frankly he always told me he hated it, but that’s not the point…the point is he cared about you…”

“Funny way of showing it…” “…and he did what he did because he thought, in his stupid pea brain, that it was for the best.” “The best?” Katie snorted “he thought bailing on me, and ghosting me was for the best?” “If you two had made a go of things, one of you would have had to move, and it would most likely have been you because Captain vacancies are harder to find…” “Yeah, I kinda figured that we’d have to do something about the chain of command, but, for fucks sake, I was contemplating going to DC…we could have sorted this, made it work!”

“I get it, I do…but this is Steve we’re talking about!” Bucky chuckled with affection, he was a dumbass but he was still his best friend. “The guy is an idiot when it comes to women and very rarely lets his heart rule his head…but with you he did. And that shows me just how much you mean to him.”

Katie looked down at her hands, her fingers were twisting around one another. After a little while she looked up and shook her head “That doesn’t make what he did ok.” “No, and I’m not trying to make excuses for him.” Bucky said gently “Just trying to give you the explanation you’re not allowing him to give to you himself.”

Katie turned away from him and wiped at her eyes. Bucky was tactful enough to look away whilst she composed herself.

“If you wanna go and check in on him I know he’d appreciate it.” he said, sowing the seeds of the idea in her mind. “Just think about it.”

She shrugged, but there was a definite softer expression on her face as she turned back to her computer.

About half an hour later Bucky came back from the bathroom to find her gone. Tacked to his monitor was a post-it note.

“Thought about it…thanks Buck.” “Don’t blow it Punk…” he mumbled to himself as he re-read the note before scrunching it up and throwing it in the bin, a huge smile playing on his face as he laced his fingers behind his head, swinging his feet up onto his desk.

“What you looking so smug about?” Natasha asked and he looked over to see he was being watched by her and Clint.

“Well…” he said, leaning back in his chair “Seems that the stupid Punk getting t-boned made Katie realise that she actually still cares about him. So Phase 1 of ‘Operation Cap’n Crunch and Special K” is officially underway. Time to prepare Phase 2 Romanoff.”

“Wait, Phase 1 was getting someone to T-bone him?” Natasha looked at Bucky, her mouth open.

“What?” Bucky frowned as Barton looked at him.

“That’s just sick man…” Clint pointed at him before he frowned and looked at Nat “hang on, what plan?” “Oh after I spoke to her yesterday, I talked to Serge and we decided that we’re fed up of the pair of them moping around and pretend hating each other, when they’re both blatantly still head over heels despite their protestations to the contrary.” Nat shrugged “So we came up with a 3 step plan, of which the first phase, I thought, was simply making them talk…”

“Yeah, and I was gonna lock them in a cupboard or his office until they agreed to do so but hey, I’m all for grabbing the moment, right? This worked a treat” Bucky said, grinning at them both.

“So what’s Phase 2?” Clint asked. Natasha arched an eyebrow and grinned at him.

“Wait and see Barton, wait and see.”

Clint blinked, looked at Natasha who now had a devilish grin spreading across her face an then back to Bucky who was smirking into his coffee cup.

“Man I love you guys!” Clint said with a small laugh as he leaned back in his chair.

***** “Ma for the last time stop fussing…” Steve looked at his mom as she set a mug of coffee down on the table in front of him.

“I’m your mother, Steven…” she looked at him. “It’s my job to fuss. Now, what do you fancy for dinner?” He was just about to tell her he was capable of dialling a pizza when he heard the key in the lock and glanced at his watch, frowning. It was early for Bucky to be home.

“Buck?” he questioned. But the reply wasn’t what he was expecting, or who he was expecting for that matter.

“No, it’s errr, me.”

Steve looked at his mother whose face had lit up at the sound of Katie’s voice and he pushed himself up of the sofa, hissing a the bite of pain in his side and turned to see her stepping nervously into the living room.

“How did…” he asked and she looked at him, sheepishly, holding up her keys.

“Never did give it you back.” she said softly. He watched as her eyes travelled over the bruising and cuts on his face and her brow furrowed somewhat as she swallowed thickly and continued “Thought you might have changed the locks, you know like you did for me when I threw Grant out.” “Not really the same thing.” he said with a soft smile. “But I’m surprised you kept it.” “It was on my keyring.” she said, shrugging “I kinda forgot about it, should have mailed it to you or something…” Steve could tell that wasn’t the truth. There’s no way she would have forgotten about it, but he didn’t pick her up on her white lie. The fact she had kept it made him slightly hopeful she wasn’t quite as ready to give up on him as she made out.

“Hi Sarah…” she said in a small voice, her gaze turning to his ma.

“Oh my little star…” Sarah hurried over to give her a warm hug before she held her at arms length “Let me look at you…I love the hair!” “It’s grown a little.” Katie smiled, running her hand through her hair, the longer side was now an inch or so below her chin.

“How have you been?” Sarah pressed.

“Oh, you know…” she shrugged “Ok.”

Sarah smiled at her and then over at Steve before she nodded. “Well I was just about to head out to the store to pick something up for tonight.” “Ma, I told you…” “And I told you to shut up.” She shot him a look “Does carbonara suit?”

Steve sighed “Yeah, that’s great…” “Ok, so, I’ll be back in a little while…” she said, rushing for her purse.

“Hang on I’ll get my wallet…” Steve made to move and she shook her head

“I don’t want or need your money.” she said sternly. Again he rolled his eyes and noticed a smile on Katie’s face.

His ma made to hug her again “If you’re not here when I get back, you best stop by some time…oh, did he give you your pie the other night?”

“He did and it was amazing as always!” Katie smiled, giving her another hug “And I will, I promise.” With that his mom left them alone, and once the door was shut Katie turned back to him and looked him up and down as she raised an eyebrow “You look like you got in a fight with a bus.” “Not quite, it was a chevvy Blazer.” he said, chuckling slightly at her joke.

“How are you feeling?” “I’m ok, just a bit sore. Be fine in a few days.” She nodded “Ok, well, that’s all I wanted to check…when Bucky said you’d been hurt I just…” she trailed off, taking a deep breath before she sighed, “God why is this so awkward?”

Steve gave her a soft smile “Because I fucked it up?” She gave a soft huff of a laugh.

“Do you want a drink?” he offered “Ma just made a fresh pot of coffee so…” “I err, I don’t…” she looked at her watch, biting her lip. Steve could tell she was searching for a reason to say no so he decided to put her out of her misery.

“It’s fine, honestly.” he said, “You don’t have to make excuses not to stay. I appreciate you popping in.” She licked her lips and looked at him, her green eyes searching his before she smiled softly “Coffee’s great, you stay where you are. I’ll get it.”

“Everything’s in the same place…” he said softly and she nodded. But she didn’t move straight away. Instead he noticed her eyes flickering to the space by the TV where the photo of the two of them used to be.

“It’s in the bedroom.” he said. She looked at him, blushing slightly that she’d been caught but didn’t try and deny what she’d been thinking.

“I’m not gonna lie, my copy is in a drawer.” she replied quietly “I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away but…” She swallowed and headed into the kitchen. He slowly sat back down and he heard her clinking about before she emerged with a mug. She placed it on the coffee table, removing her keys and phone from her pocket before she tossed those just to the left of her mug and took a seat on the sofa, picking up her drink and cradling it in both hands, the way she always did when she was seeking comfort.

“Has the station fallen to pieces yet?” Steve asked and she snorted.

“Not quite.” she smiled “To be honest it’s a bit slow. Oh, erm, I’m going to see Peralta tomorrow with Bucky, dig through the files on the old rape case. I know it’s just a hunch but something feels off.” “Well your instincts have never failed you before.” Steve smiled gently.

She smiled and shrugged “Who knows?” “Stop it.” Steve said.

“Stop what?” She frowned

“Doubting yourself.”

“I’m not.” “Yes you are I can tell. You always do it.” “No I don’t.” Steve chuckled and then winced at the pain in his side “Yes you do. And you’ve no reason to. You’re a damned good detective.”

She took a sip from her drink and looked down before she opened her mouth as if to say something but then closed it. She took a deep breath and swallowed, her eyes remaining on the floor.

“Use your words Doll.” he said, softly.

“I don’t want another argument.” she said quietly. “It doesn’t matter…” “Katie.” he urged, his voice almost stern.

“I just… “ she licked her lips “I was just thinking that, well, I can’t remember the last time we did this, you know, drank coffee in your lounge.” “I can tell you exactly when it was.” he said “It was the morning of the Christmas party. About 12 hours before I sent everything sideways.”

She looked at him, before she looked away and Steve felt a pang in his chest that was totally unrelated to his accident. He yearned for her, longed for the way things used to be before he’d fucked it all up.

“I never thought you would be the man that I cried myself to sleep over.” she said so quietly he almost missed it.

As she placed the mug back on the coffee table Steve took a shaky breath “It wasn’t easy for me either you know?” he looked at her, blinking back his own tears “I hurt too.” “Yes but you did it to yourself Steve!” she said, running her hands over her face

“You think I don’t know that?” he said, his voice a little louder “If I could change it, go back and do it differently I would but I can’t…”

“Bucky told me why you did it, that it was your stupid idea of being noble.” she cut him off, her voice soft as she shook her head “Frankly I’ve never heard anything as ridiculous in my life…all that stuff and panic about getting involved in someone in your chain of command…Steve, I had had feelings for you for a long time before that, do you think for one second that I never considered what it would mean? Fuck, I’d just told you I was considering the DC move, I’d have been well out of your chain then!”

“I should have talked to you, I get that…I do” he pressed “I was an idiot and I panicked and then I didn’t want anything to stop you moving or getting in your way and tying you back here..”

“You thought I’d do a Peggy?” she looked at him, frowning, as if she was understanding something for the first time, which in fairness she probably was. “That I’d move and things would end”

He didn’t reply, he knew that one look in his eyes would be enough to tell her. She always knew.

“Steve, what Peggy did was cruel. The way she left and then ended it, calling you a burden and a tie she didn’t need…I’d never have done that.”

“I know.” he said softly “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t.” She shook her head before she spoke again, her voice cracking slightly. “You know what the worst thing about all this is?”

One look at her was enough to tell him she was struggling to keep herself controlled, he could see from the way her chest was heaving and she was stuttering for words.

“I can’t hate you.” she shrugged “No matter how much I try, and believe me I tried, I just can’t. I wanted so hard not to care when Bucky told me you’d been hurt, but all I could think about was making sure you were ok.”

She stopped for a moment and took a deep breath as her tears began to fall. She looked up and he saw her before him, as utterly broken as he had ever seen her. Her face crumpled and she stuttered to him. “I miss you. I miss my best friend.” With that he felt a tear slide out of his own eye and he moved from his chair onto the sofa besides her, pulling her to him, ignoring the aches and pains in his battered body. She didn’t shy away, instead she pressed her face into his chest, her arms linking round his waist at the back as his hands gently slid up and down her back, soothing her as he had done so many times before.

“I’m sorry.” he managed to stutter “I really am…I never wanted to hurt you sweetheart, I swear…”

He pulled her tighter to him and then instantly winced as the pain in his ribs. She pulled back straight away and looked at him.

“Steve…”

He felt a little light headed then, and it must have shown as she frowned a little.

“Hey, you look really pale.” she said, concern etched across her pretty face “Don’t pass out on me…” “I’m fine, honestly…” he protested. “When was the last time you ate?”

“I errr…” he shrugged, scrunching his eyes shut. “Yesterday, some point. Mac and Cheese.” “You made Mac and Cheese?” she said as a twitch in the corner of her mouth grew into a small smile. “Sorta, well, opened the box…”

“Mac and cheese, from a box.” the smile went and she looked horrified “Steven that is disgusting. I showed you like a million times how to make it properly.” “Yeah well it never comes out as well as yours so…” he blinked again and took a deep breath. No, he definitely felt dizzy.

“You need to lie down.” she said, standing up.

“I’m fine…” he protested, but she wasn’t fooled. She never was fooled by his bullshit. “Stop being a stubborn asshole and do as you’re told.” she said sternly as she grabbed a throw cushion and positioned it against the arm of the sofa. “Go on.” she patted it gently and he slowly moved himself backwards, laying his head where she told him.

“Just need to close my eyes for a moment…” he muttered, and he did.

************

Steve blinked and stirred a bit. He was tired and his ribcage ached. He opened one of his eyes and saw Katie sitting on the armchair beside the couch, her shoes discarded and her legs tucked underneath her as she was reading something on her phone. A warm feeling filled his chest and he closed his eye and smiled at the thought that she was still there, looking after him, keeping him company even though he was sure she’d rather be anywhere else. She had said earlier she had missed him, she had missed her best friend. If only they could go back to the way they were. He was snapped from his thoughts by the sound of keys in the door before it opened, shut and his mother’s shoes tapped down the hallway.

“Shhhh” he heard and opened one eye again, ever so slightly, to see Katie moving her right index finger to her lips and pointing her head at him, where he lay on the couch holding onto a yellow cushion for dear life.

“Is he asleep?” Sarah asked in a hushed voice.

“Apparently” Katie answered, and he didn’t miss the fond look she shot his way. “He was feeling dizzy and I forced him to lie down and rest. I didn’t want to leave him alone so I thought I’d wait for you or Bucky to come back.” she added as if trying to excuse herself for being there.

“Good. Thanks for looking after him.” the old woman smiled at her fondly. And then Steve decided he should make them aware he was awake.

“I wasn’t dizzy.” Steve suddenly said with a hoarse voice. He rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up so fast all his body was in pain and he grimaced again.

“Steven!” Sarah scolded him. “Be careful, love. Have you taken your painkillers?”

“Yes ma.” he answered. “Took them before you left.”

She nodded and smiled at her son and then turned to Katie “And you, my dear, are having Carbonara with us this evening?”

"Sarah, I don’t want….” Katie started but Sarah cut her off.

“I wasn’t asking Star.” she said “It’s the least I can do after you looked after this mad driver I have for a son. Besides, you’re helping me fix it, we have a lot to catch up on.”

“Wait Ma! I’ll help you with those” Steve said as his mother turned to head for the kitchen, taking a shopping bag in each hand.

“No. Stay put. I’m perfectly able to do it myself, Stevie. You rest until dinner’s ready.” she refused her son’s offer.

Katie stood up and sighed. “I’ll better go help her.” she said before smiling at him and ruffling the hair on the top of his head softly, and God that was a balm to his soul. Such a familiar action she had done so many times before, but yet never had it felt so significant as it did then. The ghost of a grin threatened to spread on his face at her show of affection but it was quickly turned into a grimace as she tugged on the longer locks at the top of his head.

“Ouch!” he exclaimed and Katie, who was heading for the kitchen turned to look at him and grinned.

“Serves you well for letting them shave you.”

“I was kind of unconscious so I didn’t have much of a choice” he looked at her “And besides, they had to stitch my lip.” he shrugged innocently.

“Whatever.” she said over her shoulder walking towards the kitchen.

Steve leant against the back of the sofa, closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh. Was it him or was the ice queen beginning to thaw?

He must have dozed off again, but that stupid grin was clearly on his face as he was jerked back to the here and now by another voice about 15 minutes later.

“Are you high?” he heard Bucky ask him. Steve opened his eyes to see a smug smile on his friend’s face who was examining the packet of painkillers the doctors had prescribed him.

“Jerk.”

“I love you too, honey.” Bucky grinned at him and frowned when he heard the two female laughs coming from the kitchen.

“Is that…?” Bucky asked squinting his eyes at Steve and he nodded.

“She came by this afternoon. Ma invited her for dinner.” he said.

“Well, this is getting interesting.” Bucky smirked, tossing the packet of painkillers down onto the table “Very interesting indeed.”

Steve didn’t miss the cunning smile on his friend’s face as he turned and headed for the kitchen.

“Buck.” Steve warned him, but Bucky was already gone. He came back a few minutes later drinking a beer and sat sprawled on the armchair beside the couch and Steve cast a longing look at the bottle.

“Don’t even think of it.” he said mocking Steve’s captain voice “You’re not allowed to drink a single drop of alcohol on those things.”

Steve groaned took the TV remote and started channel-hopping until he found a film that caught his attention.

“Why does Superman wear a cape? I don’t get it. What’s with making superheroes look like idiots with those spangly tight outfits?” Bucky began to rant but Steve ignored him.

Bucky side eyed him for a moment, before he smirked to himself. “Sooo. I guess you and your girl are on better terms now, seeing as she still hasn’t torn your head off.”

“She’s not…”

“Your girl. Hmmm, yet you wanted to punch me in the face for buying her lunch.” Bucky finished for him. “You’re smiling, just saying pal.” he added pointing at him with his beer bottle before turning to the TV screen again. But as he gave Steve another side glance, he could see the blonde was smiling again.

Twenty minutes later Katie emerged from the kitchen cleaning her hands with a tea towel.

“Dinner will be ready in five, so move your asses and help me lay the table.” she said standing in front of the TV screen, hands on the buckle of her belt.

“Yes, Mrs. Captain.” Bucky sat up mocking a salute.

Kate shot him a glare and both turned to watch as Steve was struggling to stand up from the couch with a pained expression to no avail.

“Here, hold on to us.” Bucky offered reaching one of his arms out for Steve to hold at the same time Katie approached the coach and offered hers. But they couldn’t lift his weight.

“Come on, man. Are you on our team?” Bucky asked between gritted teeth.

“Just represent. Pull!” Steve bit back. And with that they were able to lift the Captain’s weight and haul him upright.

“Are you ok? Are you still dizzy?” Katie asked Steve while she rubbed his arm.

“I’m fine, doll. Thanks.”

Bucky flinched waiting for Katie’s outburst at the pet name, but when nothing came he just raised an eyebrow at the pair but they were too busy looking at one another to notice him. He just smiled, shaking his head. He had to remember to text Romanoff later.

“Ok, pal. Lean on me, I’ll walk you to the dining room.” Bucky said ducking under Steve’s armpit and putting his friend arm over his shoulder while holding his waist with his free hand. “We are your sidekicks after all.”

“Yeah, just like Mulder and Scully you two.” Steve scoffed.

“Thought it was Cagney and Lacey?” Katie, who was walking ahead of them, turned to quip.

Soon after the table was ready and Sarah had finished fixing a salad to go with the Carbonara. She passed the bowl to Katie who placed it at the centre of the table and all four sat to enjoy the food. But as Bucky was about to take a breadstick Sarah slapped his hand.

“What’s with people slapping my hands?” Bucky protested

“Have you washed your hands, young man?” Sarah asked. "God only knows where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing.”

“Or who.” Katie muttered under his breath and shared a smile with Steve who was sitting opposite her. He grinned back.

“Yes, I did ma'am.” Bucky answered, taking the breadstick from the bread basket and biting it unceremoniously.

“Are you going to tell us where you’ve been all day?” Steve asked looking at him while he helped himself to some salad.

“Playing Captain Dickhead.” he quipped.

Sarah, who had just stood up to go find a pitcher of water, smacked him on the back of his head.

“Language!” the old lady said and Katie couldn’t help but snigger.

“Ouch!” Bucky dropped the fork on the plate and rubbed the back of his head as he looked at Steve “Doing your job, buddy. Which I must say I did beautifully.” he added with a smug smile.

“Well, he didn’t burn the station down.” Katie shrugged.

“Chasing the bad guys. Looking after your herd.” Bucky continued.

“We’re not goats.” Katie scoffed.

“That is debatable, honey.” Bucky said pointing at her with his fork and Steve smiled at the bickering between the two. “And I met a friend later.” he added casually.

“Oh, anyone nice?” Sarah asked excitedly as she returned with the water.

“Don’t encourage him Ma.” Steve shook his head.

“You could say that.” he looked at Sarah smiling before adding “Name’s Sammy, we’re not a thing yet.”

Steve saw Katie stop eating and try to catch Bucky’s eye but he was avoiding her purposefully. After a second or two she gave in and stood up.

“I’ll fetch the Carbonara, pass me your plates.” she said holding out her hand at Bucky and looking at him intently. He shot her another passive look, but there was a faint tinge of red in his cheeks and as Steve watched Katie smirked, knowingly, before she collected the other plates.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Sarah said to Katie as she headed to the kitchen. “And James, make sure you treat your dame right.” he said looking at him before raising an eyebrow at her son.

“Will do.” Bucky said looking at the woman at the same time he reached for his water glass.

“You’re not a thing? Yet?” Steve asked Bucky leaning an arm on the back of the chair to look at him directly.

“Nope.” he replied, not wanting to go into many details.

“But you could be?”

Bucky shrugged.

“What are you waiting for?” Katie asked placing a pasta plate in front of Sarah.

“Just leave him alone.” Sarah said patting Katie’s hand. Katie shrugged and dropped another plate in front of Bucky before returning for her and Steve’s.

“Thifif delishos” Bucky grunted with his mouth full of food.

“Thank you, I guess. Did you mean the food was delicious?” Sarah laughed and Bucky nodded.

“It is good, thanks.” Steve said, nodding appreciatively.

“It should be after feeding on mac and cheese from a box. Did you know that?” Katie asked Sarah, who nodded resigned and shook her head.

“What’s wrong with box mac and cheese?” Bucky looked up.

“What’s wrong with it? It’s disgusting!” Katie said, affronted.

“Katie cooks the best Mac and cheese you’d ever taste.” Steve told Bucky before he shot her a wink as he refilled her glass with water.

“Thanks, Stevie.” she smiled back softly.

Bucky couldn’t help but grin. “STEVIE?” he mouthed to Sarah who nodded at him, smiling knowingly.

For Steve it was like he had been taken back to before everything went wrong. Sitting with his Mom, Katie, eating dinner…with the addition of Bucky this time. It was nice. The 4 of them ate, chatting, there was no arguing, no frosty moments. Ok, it wasn’t as easy as it had been once upon a time but still, this was progress. And he wasn’t taking it for granted.

Eventually his mother announced it was late and that she should be going. Much to Steve’s disappointment, Katie checked her watch and nodded in agreement.

“I’ll walk down with you Sarah.” Katie said “Tony’s already bitching about me treating his place like a hotel. If I’m much later home he’ll probably threaten to Ground me or something…”

Bucky and Steve both sniggered as Sarah looked at Katie.

“If he’s annoying you that much you can always come stay with me love.” she said and Katie grinned.

“You’d feed me that much apple pie and banana bread I’d be the size of a house.” “Well you do look like you need feeding up….have you been eating properly in DC?” “Ma stop it.” Steve sighed as Katie laughed.

“I’m promise you I eat as much now as I always have.” she assured the woman as they both stood up. “As you’ve just seen. I look like I’m having a food baby.”

Bucky and Steve both rose along with them, Bucky hugging Katie whilst Steve gave his mom a squeeze.

“Don’t blow this…” she hissed into his ear.

“I’ll try not to.” he replied gently.

She stepped back and Steve turned to Katie. Bucky and Sarah were tactful enough to move away to the door, talking loudly to give them some space.

“Think the polar ice caps are melting…” Bucky mumbled to Sarah who smiled as she watched Katie slip her arms round Steve’s waist.

“None so blind as those who will not see.” Sarah mused back.

“Aint that the truth…” Bucky said.

As her arms connected at the base of his back, the familiar fit of her body against his made Steve close his eyes as he gently hugged her back, dropping an affectionate kiss to the crown of her head as he always had done.

“Thank you.” he said softly, “for coming round and…” “It’s ok.” she said, she stepped back and licked her lips and took a deep breath “Look, Steve, I can’t promise everything can go back to like it was before but…maybe we can move forward right?”

“Forward’s good for me doll.” he assured her.

She smiled and turned towards the door. “See you tomorrow Bucky.” “Yeah later Doll Face…” he said to her retreating back.

The two men watched as she paused momentarily, took a deep breath before she held up her right hand and flipped him off over her shoulder, without so much as a look back.

Bucky let out a bark of a laugh and Steve chuckled as the door shut.

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